Full House Seduction. A.C. Arthur

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      His house was gorgeous. As far as spacious rooms, hardwood floors and a terrific view of the water went. However, it was a little on the empty side where furniture was concerned.

      The concept that less meant…well, less, continued on into the kitchen where alongside the stainless steel appliances and on top of the blue-flecked granite countertop was a coffeemaker, with the smallest coffeepot Noelle had ever seen. Next to the pot was a medium-sized canister of decaffeinated coffee in a pretty average brand. There was a dishwasher but it looked barely used, no fingerprints at or near the handle as you’d usually see with stainless steel. Beside the dish drainer to the right of the double sink she spied a mug, one bowl and one spoon inside it, probably left over from his breakfast. It was quite neat for the kitchen of a man, riding close to the definition of sterile. However, it fit right along with Brock’s seemingly uptight demeanor.

      But it was when they walked out onto the screened porch with its brick-encased fireplace that Noelle felt something slightly different. The furniture was made of heavy oak with deep, inviting cushions in a soft caramel tone. Rugs, not Oriental but plush and functional, aligned the tiled floor. There were coffee tables and end tables, but they only held lamps and the remote control to the entertainment system that lined one entire wall, she assumed. The fireplace looked well used, just as the chair closest to it. He sat there, she imagined, put his feet up on the table and read one of the books stuffed into the bookshelf in the living room.

      “You spend a lot of time out here?” she asked, letting her hand touch the softness of the chair before sitting down.

      “I do,” he admitted with a slightly questioning tone.

      “You’re not a man of many words, are you?” Noelle asked, already assuming she’d get another one- to two-word response.

      “I get by.”

      She nodded and retained a knowing grin. This was going to be a long, dismal summer for her—getting by on his sparse answers and trying to make sense of them.

      “So let’s talk about the casino,” she said because there was no use trying to discuss anything else. Brock Remington was not a talker. That was fine—she wasn’t here to talk or to get to know him. She was here to work and that’s all she planned to do, no matter how well he wore his jeans.

      Chapter 3

      It was all about business, Brock reminded himself as he pulled out the blueprints he’d retrieved from his office and laid them on the coffee table on the porch in front of her. She bent forward, letting her elbows rest on her knees as she surveyed them.

      She wore jeans, fitted to perfection, he might add, and a T-shirt with “Las Vegas” in glittering, swirling letters across her breasts. If Brock had ever wanted to be something in his next life it would be those letters. Looking as if it was costing her dearly to sit still, she tapped her feet on the floor while she studied the papers.

      For a moment Brock wondered if she even knew what she was looking at, then chastised himself for assuming that just because she was gorgeous and stacked like a Playboy magazine model that she didn’t have an ounce of sense. Linc had told him how she’d obtained her degree and still took managerial classes to keep sharp on the job. He’d be wise to remember that instead of the way that denim hugged her plump bottom.

      “This is a different concept you’ve used,” she was saying.

      Taking a seat in his favorite chair, Brock nodded. “Most casinos are designed to spread out, with gaming facilities going horizontally and hotel towers on top. My architect and I decided to break from the norm. Luckily Linc approved.”

      She nodded. “I can see why he did.”

      Taking that as a compliment, Brock cracked a small smile. “Do you like it?”

      He СКАЧАТЬ