One to Love Page 4

“Trust me. He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be there after you drop me off. I don’t think he took his eyes off you once.”

  Belinda deliberately brushed off the remark. The strange ping of excitement blipped on her romantic radar. “Good seeing you, Grandma.”

  “Hmm. As I said, I’ll be back.”

  Belinda waited until her grandmother drove away before she made a U-turn back to the office and pushed down on the accelerator. One thought muscled past her body’s silly reactions to this stranger. How would she stay focused, with Jesse Santiago sabotaging her steely determination with such übersexy maleness?

  Chapter 3

  Belinda stood outside the office for a few seconds to get herself together. Being outed by her grandmother was a bit like someone pointing out a pimple on her forehead, an embarrassing fact that didn’t need to be put on blast. The best solution would be to ignore him as much as she could after she acknowledged that Jesse looked good from head to toe. She would file her reaction under Do-Not-Entertain Thoughts and move on to the matter on hand—the equine-therapy center.

  She kicked off her boots and padded in her socks past Tawny. Her assistant held up several full-size printed pages of Jesse, some solo, some with a female companion. She gave a thumbs-up gesture, which Belinda ignored. Despite being in full agreement that, yes, the man was more than just handsome, fine, drop-dead gorgeous, she refused to confirm it. With the last photo of him on her mind, Belinda stepped into her office.

  “Oh...” She couldn’t help feeling flustered. With all those thumbs-up signs, Tawny didn’t bother to give any indicators that he was already here.

  Belinda stepped farther into the office and took notice of the small details about him. He sat back in the chair which was turned slightly outward as if he waited for her to enter. While some salespersons came on business in a nervous and eager state, this man owned his calm demeanor. Meanwhile, he cupped the bottle of antacids from her desk in his hands, before repeatedly tossing it in the air. His gaze never left her face, except for a casual once-over when she walked toward him.

  In the small space, the disturbing wild energy she’d sensed from him before grew more intense. Close up, the man was more than handsome with his rich, brown skin, striking features and tall stature. His voice hadn’t been hard on the ears, either. Cool and casual seemed to be his signature style, as if the only place that he’d break a sweat was on the soccer field. The dark shades he wore and kept on in her office tossed in a bit of mystery, an attitude that somehow he was detached from, and bored by, the world of regular folk.

  “Is the light bothering you?” she pointedly asked. It was time to get down to business. Not being able to read him wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t make it better.

  He shook his head and removed the glasses. He blinked. Or maybe she did, several times. The corner of his mouth hitched into a half smile. He tossed out the net, and she got caught. Gotcha.

  Gray eyes with hints of olive and amber. Thick, dark lashes to go with the heavy eyebrows. Put the glasses back on. Now her admiration volleyed between the deep-set eyes and his mouth. In between the points of her indecision, the angles and planes of his cheek and chin were chiseled to perfection. Once more, he blinked and her stomach did a flip. She had to cut that out. Right now, her mind was a little preoccupied and her body reacted accordingly like a starved woman at a buffet.

  No wonder he had females ready to lose their common sense. Falling under his spell sounded far-fetched in the gossip magazines. But when the subject sat in the chair a few feet away looking like God’s gift, the reality certainly had a different spin. Her recommendation—he needed a warning label.

  She wouldn’t react to him only if she was dead or celibate, and since neither applied, she stood the chance of succumbing to Jesse Santiago fever. Those good looks had to be all window dressing. She remained unconvinced that there was anything of substance behind the rock-hard physique.

  He broke the silence. “Didn’t realize that I was working with Grace Meadows.”

  “You’re not,” Belinda responded with deliberate sharpness. “You’re working for me.” And that new arrangement wasn’t a given, although it had moved from “heck no” to serious consideration.

  “That’s what I thought until I met Mrs. Meadows. Cool lady.” His mouth twitched. Not really a smile. Again with the casual tilt of the head—he was studying her.

  “She is.” Belinda settled into her seat. “Would you like coffee?” she offered. Personally, between the coffee and tea, she would float away with another cup.

  “No. I’m good.”

  She nodded. No argument there. Time to get down to business. Sharing her vision would be the best way to figure out if Jesse had what it took to do the job. She’d listen to him weigh in on the plans, then she’d evaluate his potential contribution.

  Although construction was near the midpoint of completion, Belinda started her presentation with what had been accomplished and her expectation of the final facility. Several times, she paused to see if he was onboard. He said nothing, but sat poised, leaning forward. Maybe he was a silent thinker.

  “That’s it in a nutshell.” She closed her speech by turning his attention to the final mock-up of her facility in full use with trainers, horses and children.

  “A lot of kids are in need of such a place?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, there is a need. And more doctors and therapists are agreeing on the effectiveness of this alternative.”

  Again, the silent regard. Unnerving.

  Belinda reiterated, “The project must be completed by September.”

  “Really?” He pushed himself out of the chair and strode around the desk.

  Remaining in her chair set her at a disadvantage. It didn’t help that his hips were too close to her eye level. The jeans, even with the way they loosely draped his lower body, couldn’t diminish certain assets. Retirement had not reduced him to a squishy mound of flesh. The corded muscles of his forearms, with tattoos winding around one limb, provided a visual sampler of a man who once seemed fond of celebrating his goals with a massive roar while gripping his soccer shirt in one hand.

  Thanks, Tawny, for flashing me that photo treat.

  “Barely three months to finish.” Now he looked closely at her vision board.

  “Is that a problem?” She stood and matched his crossed-arms stance.

  “Why are you building such a large riding ring? Plus, you’re adding a building.”

  “Renovating,” she corrected, not liking his accusatory tone.

  “A lot of horses.”

  “A lot of children.”

  He frowned. “Thought it was also a horse-training stable for jumping.”

  “Why would you think so?”

  “I figured you competed. You’ve got the body for it.” He spread his arms wide and offered the first real smile she’d seen with a flash of bright white. “Just being on the up-and-up. No harm. No foul.”

  Immediately, her cheeks warmed. The compliment rushed at her like a rogue wave and covered her in tingly excitement. But enough willpower kicked in to keep her from giggling like a nitwit.

  “You’d wear those skintight pants. The little black helmet tied under your chin.” He grinned. “I’ve seen it on TV.”

  “Are you quite finished?”

  He opened his mouth to respond.

  She waved off any further trek down this strange, winding path. “Don’t answer that.”

  “Hey, I’m just paying you a compliment.” He returned to his seat and settled in, resting his elbows on his knees. “I see the brains with all of that on the wall and the beauty right in front of me.”

  “Thanks.” Holding off this man and his penchant for flirtation needed to be handled like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Cheesy compliments are unnecessary.”

 
“But, I’m sure they were not unwelcome.” Again, the smile flashed.

  Did he wink his left eye? Her gaze narrowed. Unfortunately, her body’s reaction wanted to listen to his drivel. Her cheeks hadn’t cooled down over his last comments, and the temperature in the room had escalated a notch.

  Belinda struggled to stay on firm ground. “You do realize this is an interview.”

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t know? Or don’t care?”

  “I’m open to whatever you may need.”

  “What I need is someone who is serious about working. What I want is for this job to be completed on time.” Talking about her dream project was the perfect wall to ward off the effects of his flirtation. “Are you up for the job?”

  “My father seems to think so.”

  “You sound doubtful.”

  “Not really. I’m holding down the job until Dad gets better.”

  Belinda didn’t care for his plain speak, in this instance. “Because you may head back to playing soccer?”

  Light to dark. Amusement to irritation. Expressions flitted across his face, accompanied by the stiff set of his shoulders. A nerve had been plucked. It was accidental on her part, though, since she didn’t know enough about him to judge potential landmines.

  “My only plan right now is to help out with projects,” he replied with a measured tone. “Yours included.”

  In other words, she had to back away from soccer chitchat.

  “Do you mind if I get a cup of water?” He headed for the nearby cooler before she nodded. “You?”

  “Sure. Thank you. I should’ve offered.” Belinda waited for Jesse to bring the water. This man intrigued her, with his steady level of confidence evident as he moved around her office. Despite him being off the field, his body appeared fit. Even her inexperienced eye spotted the overall well-toned physique. Her imagination guessed that the rest of him was equally hard and ripped. She couldn’t stop recalling the photo of Jesse celebrating a goal with his shirt off. Sweaty and victorious looked damned good on him.

  “Here ya go.” He handed her the cup.

  She carefully took the drink from him, afraid to touch his hand, no matter how briefly. There was no need for a repeat of the shock to her system that had taken her by surprise. She sipped the water in an attempt to cool her emotional jets. “Let’s get back to our discussion. This is a personal endeavor that has nothing to do with equestrian competition or training show horses. Far from it. It’s about bringing joy and changing the lives of a special group of children through the use of horses.” She wanted him to understand. Otherwise, there could be no business connection between them.

  “Is there a great need for this type of business? In this area?” His continued doubt poured out with each question.

  “Whether I help one person or twenty, it’s worth it. Do you have any experience with working on stables, riding rings, fences?”

  “Yeah.”

  She waited for further explanation. None seemed to be forthcoming. “How did you learn?”

  “My father. Shoulder to shoulder, we worked on a lot of things when I was younger. I can show you all my scars.” He raised his hands and flicked them to show the back, and then the palms, of his hands. No scars or calluses were visible. Instead, she noted the long, blunt fingers with veins and muscles leading up to lean forearms. “These hands have seen a lot of action.” He interlocked said hands and rested them on his lap.

  A lot of action. Her truth? She loved a man’s hands. You could see strength and beauty, gentleness and caring—all necessary parts of a man’s character—there. Her analysis had never steered her wrong. Nice hands meant a sensitive touch, from casual communication to intimate cuddling, sexy foreplay and beyond.

  Belinda took another sip of water.

  “What have been some recent projects that you’ve worked on?”

  “I’ve helped out my father on several assignments around town. There was nothing that I couldn’t do.” His blasé tone turned curt, precise. “And references aren’t a problem.” His cell phone rang with a horrendous series of chimes. He looked at the screen and pushed to connect. “Do you mind if I get this?”

  Belinda waved him on.

  With the phone at his ear, he strolled out the office.

  After Jesse left to take his call, Belinda worried. In all the scenarios of her dreams, she’d never envisioned the project incomplete. The image of things unraveling made her panicky. And the arrival on the scene of Jesse, equipped with more blatant sex appeal than possible construction management expertise, didn’t quiet her unease.

  Waiting for him to finish his call, all she could do was take a seat, cross her arms and stare at the timeline. One option would be to wait for Ed to recuperate and get the facility built to her specifications without drama. Another option was finding another contractor, but Dreamweaver Riding Program had a scheduled start date in three months. And nothing so far was supporting that time frame. She reached for the bottle of antacids.

  “And where the hell is Tawny?” Belinda muttered. Her assistant had the knack of calming her. As she exited her office to look for Tawny, she heard Jesse still on the phone. By now, she didn’t care if he had a call. He was on her time. But there wasn’t any sign of him.

  Instead of holding his call in the office, apparently he’d taken the call outside. Before she took another step, his voice escalated. It was intense, possibly angry. She froze.

  “I’m not going to change my mind. Olivier, it’s been over. Chapter closed. A documentary on my life? Are you kidding me?” Jesse’s laugh held little humor. “Not happening because I know it’s going to somehow get twisted in my supposed comeback as the final point of this publicity stunt to get the fans worked up. I don’t need the pressure.” His footsteps marked the small area.

  Belinda pressed against the wall. Her heart thudded its rapid drumbeat.

  Not until she heard his feet resume their pacing did she exhale. His angry statements were now indecipherable mumbles. She inched closer, pushing away any guilt at eavesdropping. She would save feeling guilty for when she was caught. To hear him so agitated shocked her. What happened to his casual cockiness?

  “Pop is on the mend. At home, grumbling. Driving Mom crazy.” There was a mix of a snort and chuckle. “I’m safer on the outside of Santiago and Sons Construction. That’s Diego’s domain. I pop in when needed.” He paused for a while. “Call me all the names you want. I’m not meeting with anyone to be browbeaten. I get enough of that here.” He quieted, even his pacing slowing until he stood still. “For your information, I’m on a job. With horses. Yes, horses—smell and all! Stop laughing. I can smell the stable a mile away.”

  Belinda was interested, now that the heated conversation had turned to her business.

  “The owner? She’s cool. A bit over the top with all these plans.” His pacing brought him closer to her hiding spot. “What do I think?”

  Silence.

  “Of her? Man, I’m not heading down that road. Stop laughing. Okay, she’s not hard on the eyes. Bumpin’ body. Got a smile that can light up a dark room. See...right there, you’ve got me talking nonsense. I’m going to be busy with my demons. Not on board for anything. End of that discussion.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Belinda almost jumped out of her skin when Tawny whispered in her ear. “Shh.”

  Now they both listened.

  “I know that she wants my father, not me, on the job. Too bad Diego is working on a project for the mayor’s office.” He paused. “In the meantime, I’ll push around the hay until Pop’s back. Then I’ll move on to find my next chapter.”

  His feet shuffled closer. Belinda backed up, pushing Tawny away from the area.

  “Thanks for the heads-up about the documentary. I’m sure my agent will be lighting up my phon
e. Bye.”

  Belinda continued pushing Tawny ahead of her as they hurried back to her desk. They made it to her office before Jesse rounded the corner. Tawny froze into position with an exaggerated lean over the paperwork on the desk. Meanwhile, Belinda pointed to a random spot on the paper. By the time Jesse entered, Tawny came to life and nodded, as if in agreement with a point they’d discussed.

  “Done with my call. Sorry about that.” He didn’t walk over to the desk. Instead, he remained in the doorway. The way his face was set meant that he hadn’t shaken off the effects of his call.

  Belinda stepped away from Tawny. Regardless of the chiseled good looks, she only had one message for him. “Mr. Santiago—”

  “Jesse.”

  She ignored the casual interjection. “Upon careful consideration, I will only work with your father. The bid was accepted based on his ability to do the job. His reputation is pretty stellar. I respect how he treated the project, and how he managed the team to stay on task. I knew what I was getting and wasn’t ever disappointed.” Deliberately pausing to deliver the closing blow, she clasped her hands. In a soft, but frigid tone, she finished, “In other words, Jesse, I’m not interested in using you as a substitute. I will be making alternative arrangements for another company to take over. Of course, this will delay my plans. Quite unexpected, although I realize that it was unforeseen. This program is important and I want the best. Having you push around hay is the last thing that I’m going to settle for.”

  “What?”

  “Have a good day. I’ve got to get back to some pressing matters.” Belinda returned to sit behind her desk.

  Tawny had turned into a statue. Her gaze locked on to Belinda. Her eyes open wide, her expression frozen.

  “When is the next appointment, Tawny?”

  “Um...now,” her assistant squeaked. “I’ll go...maybe they’re here...now.” Tawny sidled her way out of Belinda’s office, probably to the safe zone of her own area. Belinda was too irritated over the situation to find the humor in Tawny’s comedic contortions to avoid looking at Jesse.