Blueprint for a Wedding. Melissa McClone

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СКАЧАТЬ shielded the surprise in her eyes. “You’re Gabriel Logan?”

      He didn’t say anything. Just gave a single nod.

      She had expected a balding middle-aged contractor, not sex in a tool belt.

      Curly brown hair fell past his collar. Long khaki shorts and a green T-shirt showed off his lean-but-strong body. A far cry from an Armani suit, but the casual style fit him. Nicely.

      Tall, dark and…

      Ruggedly handsome was the only way to describe him. He could easily give Hollywood’s latest “it” boy a run for his money. Long, dark lashes fringed sapphire eyes. Fine lines at the corners of his eyes softened the chiseled planes of his face, a strong jaw and a nose that looked as if it had been broken at least once.

      Her heart pounded, and her stomach tingled.

      Uh-oh. It always started like this. The shiver of awareness. The air of anticipation.

      She was in trouble. A whole lot of trouble.

      The last thing she wanted was a man in her life. She wasn’t looking to fall in love. She’d fallen more times than she could count, but she hadn’t found “the one.”

      Her one true love.

      The way every other Addison had before her. No one had divorced or even separated during the past two hundred years of her family’s recorded history. Faith wasn’t about to ruin the streak. She’d failed enough.

      Broken engagements. Broken hearts. Broken promises.

      She wasn’t giving an encore performance.

      That’s why she’d sunk every penny she had into this B and B project. Renovating an old house had to be easier than finding her one true love. She might not join the ranks of her family who had found their soul mates, but she could certainly join them in their successful hotel business, Starr Properties and Resorts.

      A much saner business than acting.

      Faith would prove to her mother—to her entire family—that despite making some huge mistakes in the past, she didn’t need a man to take care of her. She could do it herself.

      “Henry’s told me a lot about you,” Faith said. But not enough. Not nearly enough. She’d wanted a contractor who was competent, experienced and safe. Two out of three…

      “He told me nothing about you,” Gabriel said.

      “I asked him not to.”

      He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

      “I didn’t want you to accept the job because of who I am.”

      “Not likely.”

      At least he wasn’t starstruck. Men often treated her differently because of who she was, or rather who they thought she was. Their reactions disappointed more than hurt. She tucked a strand of hair back into her cap. “I also didn’t want my involvement leaked to the press.”

      She needed this project to remain a secret. She wanted to fix up the house, sell the renovated B and B to Starr Properties without her family knowing it was hers and show her family she was not only ready but capable of taking her rightful place in the business. She was as much an Addison as they were, even if she had never made it to “I do” and had made a mess of pretty much everything in her life.

      Gabriel stared at her in disbelief. “You thought I’d call the Berry Patch Gazette and brag that I was working for some movie star?”

      Gabriel sounded affronted. Disgusted, too. But it had happened to Faith before. A tabloid had paid one of her ex-fiancés for an exposé of their relationship. “It’s not the Berry Patch Gazette I’m worried about. Tabloids pay a lot and I don’t want the publicity.”

      “I thought there was no such thing as bad publicity.”

      “Try remodeling a house with sixty photographers taking pictures of you all day.”

      “I wouldn’t want to.”

      “Then it’s a good thing no one knows about this house.” Faith forced a when-is-this-press-junket-going-to-end smile. “Or me.”

      Gabriel’s jaw tensed and she wondered what had caused the sudden change in him. A few minutes earlier he’d been flirting and asking her out on a date. Now he looked as tense as her stomach felt. She didn’t want him to quit. According to Henry, he was the best and she needed all the help she could get. She couldn’t afford another mistake. Not now. Not with this.

      Time to make nice. She removed her sunglasses, stuck them above the brim of her cap and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

      He didn’t say anything.

      Faith extended her arm. A second passed. And another. Finally his large hand engulfed hers. His skin was rough, his grip firm. Strong. He drew his hand back and she was relieved not to be touching him. He was too warm, too male. Too much.

      She waited for him to say something. Anything. A false nicety. An insincere compliment or two.

      Nothing.

      A flicker of apprehension coursed through her.

      Faith fought against it. Gabriel had picked the wrong woman if he thought she was going to give up so easily. “So you’re a licensed contractor?”

      Another nod.

      “And you own your own business?”

      “Yes.”

      This was worse than trying to get an extra ticket on Oscar night. Maybe he was sulking because she’d shot him down.

      Luckily she hadn’t accepted his dinner offer. She’d been tempted. That whole knight-fantasy thing when she’d been in the tree had been very appealing. Knights were heroic. Knights were romantic. Knights took charge. But for once that wasn’t what she needed. Or wanted. Thank goodness she’d listened to her head, not her heart, and avoided making a huge mistake.

      She would continue to do the same where Gabriel Logan was concerned.

      “How many employees do you have?” she asked.

      “Four.”

      If only she could get four words out of him. “Thanks for sending me the remodeling plans. Did Henry give you the questionnaire with my comments?”

      Yet another nod. “Did you receive the revised plans?”

      Six words. Maybe Gabriel hadn’t failed Customer Service 101 and they were starting to get somewhere. “Yes, I did. Thank you. I like what you did with the kitchen.”

      Her compliment didn’t draw the reaction she’d expected. If anything he looked annoyed. “Do you have any questions or…changes?” The words seemed to stick in his throat.

      Definitely annoyed. “Yes. A few things.” Several, actually. “My notes are in the carriage house.”

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