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I’m wide-eyed as I meet his gaze across the workbench. A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me any research he did on me or my business wasn’t out of due diligence for his event tomorrow. But two can play this game.
“White Glove has succeeded not because of what I want and need, and not because of a single event or transaction. We’ve come this far because of the relationships I’ve forged over time and the fact I make sure every single thing we do exceeds customer expectations.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”
My brow furrows as I move the finished crystal vase to the cart at my side and clear the station now that we’re done. “I’m not sure we are.”
A devilish smile graces his face. “We are.”
My head falls to the side as I study him. A man used to getting exactly what he wants. But, first and foremost, Garrett is a client, so rather than question him, I defer. “If you say so.”
He must not have liked that answer because he circles the workbench and stops my cart with two firm hands on the end. “Give me a chance to prove it?”
I should be checking on my staff, making sure our orders are ready to go, but somehow the fact he wants to prove we’re on the same page seems much more important at the moment. “How?”
“You’ll need a coat.”
CHAPTER4
GARRETT
I hopeVeronica’s not a poker player because her rich mahogany eyes are a tell. One I’m thankful I can read like a fourth quarter market forecast, because otherwise her professional facade is locked tighter than a safe with a biometric key required. A key I don’t have. At least not yet.
But just like yesterday when the mask slipped for just a second when I complimented her instead of her flowers, this glimpse into her inner thoughts buoys my hopes that I’m on the right path and it’s only a matter of time before Veronica’s mine. Or, more accurately, I’m hers.
Not that it’s going to be easy. She’s been through a lot. But so have I, and age brings a double-edged sword when it comes to patience. On one hand, I’m willing to strike fast when I’ve made up my mind, but on the other, I’ve learned how a certain finesse when it comes to timing can make all the difference.
Within minutes of being introduced yesterday, I knew, just like I did all those years ago, Veronica Charles was the woman I didn’t even know I’d been searching for. And, if the sensual smile she tried to disguise as a purse of her lips when I mentioned convincing her we’re on the same page is any indication, she feels it, too.
Time to get to know this beauty. And break down her defenses one holiday delight at a time.
* * *
Two magnificent horses who,as Kendall would say, are sporting their holiday finest, are hitched to a carriage decked out in twinkle lights on East Drive just inside Central Park. Feathery white snowflakes land on Veronica’s long dark hair, dust the shoulders of her black bubble jacket, and melt on her rosy red cheeks as I clasp her gloved hand and help her up the step. I’m cursing the layers of leather and lining between our fingers, but her delighted smile as she sinks onto the thick cranberry velvet-lined cushioned bench more than makes up for the lack of contact.
I’d give anything to kiss the dewy moisture on those cheeks. I’d sell my soul to press my lips to that smile, stealing the taste of this woman I’ve craved since yesterday. The irony isn’t lost on me that after ten years of being alone, of barely giving any woman a second thought—in a romantic sense—the universe seems hell bent on teaching me self-restraint after less than twenty-four hours of Veronica in my life.
Her denim clad thigh brushes mine as I climb up and settle in next to her. She stares down at the connection, and I drink in the sight of her dark eyes as they study the length of her warm thigh pressed along mine from hip to knee. A holiday horse-drawn carriage ride is either the best idea I’ve had in a long time or the worst, but when Veronica tugs the red and green plaid blanket over our laps and tucks it snuggly around us, I’m thankful for the coverage. The next hour with this woman cuddled up at my side is going to be torture in the best possible sense of the word.
“Perfect afternoon for a romantic Christmas ride for two,” our gray-haired driver says with a wink as he passes back two steaming cups of hot chocolate. I’m not about to correct him and breathe a sigh of relief when Veronica opens her mouth to clarify, but then closes it again without a word.
There’s the briefest pause and I wonder what she’s thinking, but she slings me a sidelong glance and murmurs, “You’re still my client,” as the driver lumbers up to his perch and grabs the reins.
I can’t help it. “Until tomorrow,” I murmur back, and the catch of her breath in her throat is like music to my ears.
The horses start to move, and we’re rocked against the back of the carriage. A moment later, it’s like we’ve passed through a magical portal, leaving the hustle and bustle of a city in full holiday panic mode behind, and emerging into a snowy, peaceful white winter wonderland.
My heart thunders in my chest when Veronica looks around, delighted, and sinks against me. Her delicate frame, just like her, is so strong and yet somehow vulnerable. I can’t shake the feeling that this ride is just the beginning of something between us if I play my cards right and am the lucky bastard who wins her heart.
* * *
“What was it you needed?”she asks, turning to me a few minutes later. “The personal request you ventured all the way out to Brooklyn in the snow for?”
Does this woman ever relax? Does she ever think about anything that isn’t business? Does she let her mind wander, as I do when I study the clouds from my favorite spot on the balcony? Hell, I haven’t given my inbox a single thought since yesterday. No, I’ve been occupied wondering how her long silky hair would feel running through my fingers. How she would kiss hello after a long Tuesday apart. How she would look on Sunday mornings without makeup when I come back to bed with the Times and fresh coffee.
With effort, I focus on the conversation. “Dying to know, are you?”
Her chin lifts. “I’m just doing my job. Plus, it’s not like I didn’t warn you.”
