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Neil stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, almost as if he had been pushed. He glanced around the site before answering. “We’re not going to get into that here. Now.”
“We certainly are.” She stepped forward around the table and pointed at his solid chest. “You had no right to kiss me.” Wrong move. He now towered over her, all powerful, masculine energy.
“I deserved a kiss.”
Her pulse quickened at his rough voice. No matter the time of day, it always sounded as if he’d just woken up. She found it sexy as hell and completely distracting.
“Plus you were the only person I knew so I went after what I wanted.”
She gasped. “You wanted to kiss me?”
Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say you want to do it again. Carson shook out the thoughts that repeated inside her head.
“I wanted a kiss. It didn’t necessarily have to be you. And I suspect Hector Diaz wouldn’t have been appreciative if I went after one of his women.”
She sneered. “I never understood that barbaric ritual. The sex after a race.”
“What do you know about it?”
She froze. Again saying too much.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “You’re really uptight. You should find a way to get rid of some of that energy.”
“Like racing?”
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Whatever floats your boat.”
Despite that kiss, Carson was no dummy. She knew Neil Harrison thought of her as a ball-busting bitch. All work and no play, more argumentative than not. She shouldn’t care. She was hired to do a job—build a multi-million dollar facility—not socialize with the man who paid her to build it.
“Look, we don’t have much time left on this project. Can we at least try and be civil?”
“Civil or not. I know this project will get done to my satisfaction.” He walked away, leaving Carson to quiver at the scent of his spicy aftershave.
The second he was out of sight, she raced out of the building to the large maple tree outside. She rested her body against the bark and slid down, letting her hand fall against her knees.
Things were going to have to change if she expected to stay in this line of work. She wouldn’t be able to work with her father hovering, wouldn’t be able to live her own life with her father constantly interfering.
And now this sudden thing with Neil.
She remembered his muscular body pressed against hers, his strong hands roaming over her curves while his mouth plundered hers.
A familiar ache settled between her legs as she grew more aroused.
Thank God the project was ending soon. Then she could leave Neil and this unwanted attraction behind.
Chapter Three
Neil sat in his cottage-turned-office and scrolled through the list of emails on his BlackBerry for the tenth time. No new messages. He’d contacted everyone on his to-do list, replied to everyone who’d sent him a text. Even his brothers weren’t online.
Construction was complete. Permits and plans finalized. All that remained was the final inspection and then the interior designer could do her thing. For once, he could actually relax. Not that he was big on relaxing.
The Madewood Farm would be a state-of-the-art facility and include a five-star restaurant, a barn venue to host private events like weddings as well as an exclusive family site with berry picking in the summer, hay rides, and farm animals. The site would also house one of the Madewood gourmet food stores. Neil had hired a pastry chef to oversee an on-site bakery where pies and desserts would be available daily.
He even kept the tiny cottage at the top of the property thinking he’d eventually renovate. The previous owners of the farm had called the space home, but rustic didn’t even begin to describe his surroundings. He had turned it into an office for the construction’s duration. It had running water and electricity and even a bed, since he crashed here most nights, spending almost twenty-four hours a day on site.
It was off the trail and not accessible from the road. Maybe he could make it a honeymoon suite. There were so many things he could do with this space. The sky was the limit.
The farm was the most elaborate project the Madewood family had ever taken on. Neil had dreamed up the idea one day when he was riding his bike. He’d merged off the highway and followed the twisted and turning roadway. About two kilometers from the main road, he had come upon a for sale sign for a berry-picking farm.
