anymore. She wasn’t trying to get his attention—at all.
The Carleton House kitchen door slammed. Bess straightened. She could do this. She could work with Daniel. All it would take was a lobotomy. Or maybe Daniel could get a personality transplant.
“Hey.” Daniel nodded. His brown eyes did a hit-and-run with hers.
Right. Hard to believe they’d ever gotten naked with each other.
Bess got down to business. “How do you want me to walk through our changes?”
Daniel blinked. “Show me what you want.”
She led the way to the dining room. “We’d like a pass-through between the butler’s pantry and the dining room.”
Daniel knocked on the wall and checked out the room from the pantry. He came back. “Okay.”
He made notes on his copy of blueprints.
“Here are the notes I worked up.” Bess held out a copy.
“This will help.” He moved closer.
She caught a whiff of his woodsy aftershave. Like Pavlov’s dog, her body flashed with unwelcome heat. Thrusting the paper at him, she hurried to the library.
His footsteps echoed behind hers.
At the exterior wall that looked out on the backyard, she waved her hands at a tall window. “We’d like double French doors here.”
Daniel moved around the room. He shook his head. “That’s a lot of structure work. Why not change this window—” he pointed “—and this into single doors? We’d make the doors as tall as the current windows, and the lines from outside will match.”
She frowned. “Double doors would be elegant.” And it would bring the garden into the room.
“But you’ll change the lines from the outside. You want the height of the windows and doors to stay the same and keep the room’s symmetry inside and out.”
She chewed on her thumbnail. “Could each window be changed into a door?”
He examined all four windows.
“For balance I’d suggest two doors.” He pointed. “One on each side of the room.”
Bess pulled out another set of sketches and set them on a library shelf.
He leaned close. His breath made the hair escaping her bun dance on her neck. “Did someone else do architectural sketches?”
“These are my garden plans.” She’d sketched the combined Fitzgerald and Carleton House courtyards. “You’d recommend the doors be here—” she drew a circle “—and here?”
He took her pencil, his golden head dipping next to hers. “Is this to scale?”
She nodded, clenching her fingers to keep from brushing the silky hair that slipped across his forehead.
He measured the windows and drew in the doors on her layout. His shoulder bumped hers, and another flash of heat zipped through her. “There.”
“Good.” She rolled up her work, planning to escape.
“Can I get copies of those?” he asked.
“Why?” The gardens were her concern.
“I like a complete picture of everything happening on my projects.”
“So you have total control?” she asked. “You really do have a control hang-up, don’t you?”
“I anticipate problems.” A lethal smile broke across his face. “And that requires absolute control.”
“I’ll send you copies, but these are preliminary sketches.” Sometimes the land didn’t conform to her drawings. She pointed at him. “I have absolute control of the patios and gardens.
“Sure.” He laughed. “Anything else in this room?”
She checked her list, avoiding his eyes. “All doors need card readers.”
“That’s the plan.”
“We can head upstairs.”
They moved to the main staircase. Bess stared at his butt. The work of art was right in front of her as they climbed. The two times she’d seen him naked, she hadn’t truly appreciated it. She regretted that almost as much as sleeping with him.
At the top of the stairs, she pointed to the first bedroom. “We’d like to open this bedroom to adjoin with the old music room.”
He flipped between the pages. “You’ve got a furnace run between these rooms.”
“Is it in right now?”
“If the plans are right, it’s already there.”
“Can you work around it?” She chewed on her thumb.
He tapped at her hand.
Her eyes flared open. “What?”
“You were gnawing on your thumb.” His words rasped out. His eyes locked on her mouth.
“Bad habit.” She tucked her hand into her back pocket.
He turned, but not before she caught the flicker of heat in his gaze.
“Is there a way to put a connecting door in?” she asked, trying to stay on task.
He assessed the plans. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
She frowned. “We’ve got a couple more adjoining-room requests.”
Daniel determined only one was possible. Then they looked at the tub and shower placement changes Bess and her sisters wanted.
In the master bedroom, she asked, “Can you create a larger balcony here?”
He opened the door. They peered out at the rickety wood floor.
“When we tear off the old balcony, we’ll assess whether there’s enough support to expand.”
“Good.” She brought her thumb near her mouth.
He shook his head.
“You’re as bad as my sisters.” She frowned. “We want French doors and balconies on all the courtyard bedrooms.”
Daniel smiled again. “This project will keep our staff and subs busy. I’ll check with the architect and engineer.”
Would it cost more money? “Thanks.”
On the stairs, Daniel set his hand under her elbow. “I don’t trust the railing.”
She didn’t know what was more dangerous to her health, a loose railing or Daniel. If he kept touching her, she might burst into flames and burn the place down.
“So how’s the job search?” he asked as they headed down the next flight of stairs.
She shrugged. “Nothing yet.”
“Did you do something impulsive like quit?” he blurted out.
“I loved that job!” Why couldn’t he see that she’d changed?
He raised one eyebrow. “Then what happened?”
“I was laid off.” Her face grew warm. “Mid-August. Not the optimum time to be searching for a job in my field.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid.”
“Kid?” She wanted to poke him, but he held her elbow.
“If you need to delay your rent payment, let me know,” he said.
“I’m fine.” Now her face was on fire. She hated Daniel’s sympathy. “I need to work on a wedding consult.”
“I thought you didn’t have a job?”