Baby Bombshell Page 2

  “Don’t worry,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal. “I know an architect who’s willing to do a reciprocal stamp for you. Whatever you don’t know, he can fill in the gaps.”

  “Then why aren’t you using him?”

  “Because we want you.”

  “Well, you can’t have me,” Anna said tartly. Silly as it seemed, refusing him helped her regain some of her equilibrium. She had found a toehold and she wasn’t going to let him knock her off balance again. Eyeing him, suspicion began to percolate through her brain. “How did you get Ma and Pop to agree to this, anyway?”

  “They’re not as inflexible as you like to think they are,” Evan said impatiently. “They know the property’s going to waste as it is. Do you know what houses are selling for around there? And George Green got an offer for his bar that—”

  A buzz from her phone cut his words off midstream. Anna picked up the handset, grateful for the interruption. “Yes?”

  “Anna, it’s Carl. Do you have a minute? Ed and I are going over the plans for the Jepsen project, and we have a few glitches you might be able to help us with.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Anna hung up the phone and looked over at Evan. “I’m going to have to kick you out.”

  “So we’ll meet later—”

  Anna held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t see the point. I’m not interested in this job. For one, I have way too much on my plate as it is.”

  “Come on, Annie. We need you.”

  “If you don’t want to use a local architect,” she said, ignoring his plea, “I can recommend someone else.”

  “You’re really turning me down?” Evan’s face was unreadable again, eyes narrowed.

  “I really am.” Anna folded her hands on her desk. “You and Patty will have to look elsewhere.”

  “What can I say to change your mind?”

  “Not a thing, Evan.” She stood and he followed suit. “Goodbye. I’m sorry you made the trip for nothing.”

  “Oh, it hasn’t been wasted.” Evan smiled slyly. “Not yet.”

  With that, he turned and walked out of her office. Anna watched him go down the hall. She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling a knot of tension. His last words sounded a lot like a threat. She knew him too well: Evan was not one to give up so easily. But nothing he could say would change her mind.

  EVAN PUSHED THROUGH THE revolving doors, exiting the building with a muttered curse. He walked to the edge of the sidewalk, then looked up to Anna’s office, high above the street. “Don’t think this is over, Anna-Banana. I’m not leaving San Francisco until you say ‘yes.’”

  A man in a dark suit slowed and stared at him. Evan raised an eyebrow in cold inquiry and the man hurried away. With a harsh sigh, Evan turned and walked down the street, his fists in his pockets. How the hell was he going to convince her now? His cell phone rang and he pulled it out, groaning when he saw Patrick’s number on the screen.

  “What do you want?”

  “So the big deal guy got shot down,” Patrick said. “It’s Master Deal-maker, thank you.”

  “Whatever. Anna just called and blasted me. What happened?”

  “First recon mission accomplished. Preliminary strategic data on target collected.”

  “Come on, Evan. You blew the mission, buddy. The target is pissed.” Patrick sighed. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

  “A bad idea? You’re the idiot that came up with it!” Evan stopped dead on the sidewalk, the pedestrian behind him snarling as she swerved to avoid collision. He pulled the speaker from his ear. Since his best friend was not there to punch, he wanted to chuck the phone across the street. He brought the phone back and said furiously, “‘Go talk to Anna, Evan. You’re the man. You haven’t lost a deal yet.’”

  “And you fell for it, sucker. You owe me a hundred bucks.”

  “I haven’t lost the bet. Not yet. I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “From what Anna said to me, she’s not going to say yes now or a hundred years from now.”

  “My plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning,” Evan reminded him. “I’ve got seventeen hours to change her mind.”

  Patrick was silent for a long moment. “So what’s the Master Deal-maker’s next big move?”

  “That’s classified information. Need-to-know basis only. I’ll report back to HQ tomorrow. In person.” Evan flipped the phone off and dropped it in his pocket.

  Brave words, he thought as he meandered down the street. Now he just had to come up with the deeds to back them up. He walked toward his hotel, then, still stewing, continued on past it, down to the Embarcadero. The weather was sunny, mild, glorious, not what he expected for San Francisco, even in the middle of August. He had assumed there would be lots of fog, wind and a damp chill. Instead, it was a welcome change from the heat and humidity of the Chesapeake summer.

  He crossed the broad boulevard and made his way to the ferry terminal. Threading his way through the waiting cars, he took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of Gandhi’s statue. Walking over to the pier’s edge, he took another photo of a ferry arriving, just to prove he had been here. It was probably all the sightseeing he would get on this quick trip.

  Standing at the edge of the water, he leaned his elbows on the steel railing. A light breeze from the Bay blew into his face, bringing with it the crisp, tangy scent of the Pacific. Eyes narrowed against the sparkle of light off the water, Evan considered his options. He could go back to her office and try again, but that would no doubt fail; Anna was too businesslike sitting behind her desk. In that setting, she felt in charge and could say no too easily. He had also hammered on the business side of their plans too much. A more personal approach might be a better tactic. He needed to get her to relax, away from her own turf. Distract her, then hit her with both barrels.

  The prospect of getting personal with Anna Berzani sent a flash of heat through his veins. Evan reined it in instantly, with an ease that spoke of years of practice. The first time he had felt that spark had been the summer she turned sixteen. Anna had pranced around in a bikini that left little to the imagination. It had nearly killed him, but at twenty-one, he knew he couldn’t touch her; she was jailbait for certain. Besides, she was his best friend’s sister. If he made a move, Patrick would have killed him, or worse.

  That summer had been torture, but it had ultimately saved him. She had hung around the docks when he and Patrick went out sailing, temptation personified. She and her friends sat in the bleachers at the ball field, laughing, joking, flirting and taunting him as he covered third base for his team. Evan had learned to fight the regular flashes of lust he had for Anna Berzani—fight them and win. He was not getting involved with her, not then and not now.

  Even at sixteen, Anna might as well have had forever tattooed across her forehead. She was and always would be a Berzani. And the Berzanis were about family and all it entailed: a house, two cars in the driveway, a swing set in the backyard and a horde of kids running everywhere. All the obligations made Evan shudder and break out in a cold sweat.

  He wondered, not for the first time, why she fought her connection with that tradition. The Berzanis were saints compared to his folks. When he was twelve years old, he had found sanctuary in her lively, loving family. That summer, he and Patrick had forged an unbreakable bond over their love of sailing and boats. When school began again and his parents’ marriage started imploding, Evan had been practically adopted by Elaine and Antonio Berzani. They had given him respite from the battles in his own house, battles waged over money, love and a child’s loyalty to each of his demanding parents. He loved being a part of the Berzani clan, but when she turned eighteen, Anna couldn’t leave them fast enough. Why? What was she running from?

  If Anna had any weakness, it was her relationship with her family. That’s where he should attack, Evan realized. The love-hate relationship she had with her parents as a teenager hadn’t changed much. He could use that to his advantage, convince her that they
had a problem only she could solve. No matter how much noise she made to the contrary, she could not refuse to help them. He grinned and slapped the railing: she was as good as hooked.

  Evan turned away from the water and walked back across the street. Stopping at one of the stands set up on the Justin Herman Plaza, he surveyed the bouquets arranged by a florist to tempt passersby. He reached for a bunch of flaming orange roses that reminded him of Anna’s fiery red hair. He put them to his nose. The petals against his lips felt as soft as her skin had when he had kissed her cheek.

  He paid the exorbitant price for the bouquet and returned to his hotel. Armed with her address and flowers to soften her heart, all he needed now was a favorable field of conquest. He would take her out to dinner, at the restaurant of her choosing. A little wine, good food and intimate conversation: Evan imagined the scene. She wouldn’t be able to resist the full force of his charm, especially when he was pleading on her family’s behalf.

  And if she proved unassailable? He would just have to pull out all the stops. The possibilities sent a shiver over his skin and he pushed the thought away. Some methods were off-limits, no matter how worthy the prize and tantalizing the victim.

  Chapter Two

  Anna closed the door to her condo behind her. She dropped her purse and keys on a small table just inside the entry, then sifted through the mail she had collected from her mailbox. Nothing was of interest: bills, statements, junk mail. She tapped the envelopes back into a pile and tossed them beside her keys. Kicking off her shoes, she walked to the kitchen. The polished oak floors cooled her tired feet. Twelve hours in high heels was too much. There ought to be a law against that kind of torture.

  Slipping off her suit jacket, she draped it over a chair, pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed an open bottle of wine out of the rack. There was just about one serving remaining; exactly what she needed to recuperate from the day.

  The chardonnay was cold and tart, with just a hint of sweetness. She sipped and walked back into the living room, tugging on the hem of her blouse as she went, freeing it from the waistband of her skirt. Sitting on the red leather sofa that faced a wide wall of windows, Anna put her feet up on the coffee table. She sipped the wine again, then rested the stem of the glass on her stomach. A small sigh escaped as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes: peace, at last.

  While it hadn’t been the day from hell, it had scorched her enough. Evan McKenzie had disrupted everything. Sarah had twittered around the office like a drunken canary, rhapsodizing over his handsome charm. Anna was more rattled, not less, after yelling at Patrick. She had been unable to concentrate in her meetings or on her design work. Finally, she had closed herself in her office and brooded, wondering about Evan’s motives and what he would do next.

  Anna lifted her head and took another drink of wine, frowning when the door buzzer sounded. Since it wasn’t the intercom in the lobby, she assumed it was one of her neighbors at the door, probably Jill from the fourth floor wanting to go out for sushi. Anna wasn’t up for the latest installment of “Pigs I Have Slept With.” She liked the woman in small doses, but her dating life was a running promotion for celibacy. Anna took another sip and ignored the summons. She groaned when it buzzed again, more insistently. Setting her glass on an end table, she went to the door. Hand on the doorknob, she peered through the peephole. Her heart nearly stopped. Not again.

  She turned and leaned back against the cold metal panel, as if to prevent it from flying open. There was no way she was opening this door. Hadn’t she gotten rid of him once today? What sins had she committed to deserve this? She pretended she wasn’t home, but the door buzzer seemed to know better. It sounded again. This time it didn’t end. Droning on and on, the noise grated on her nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. Finally, Anna spun around and wrenched open the door.

  “Stop pestering me!”

  “Whoa! Easy there, girl. A bit high-strung, are we?” Evan McKenzie asked with a grin. His gaze slid over her. “And my, aren’t you looking lovely tonight.”

  Shoeless, shirttail flapping, looking as tired as she felt, Anna knew otherwise. She glared at him. “How did you get in here? As I remember, there’s a security system in the lobby.”

  “A very nice woman let me in as she left. Tall with blond hair?”

  Jill. Anna steamed. Of course she would have granted Evan whatever he asked for—just like every other woman in the world. Well, Anna wasn’t going to run in that particular stampede. “What do you want now?”

  “To take you to dinner of course.”

  “I’m not hungry. Go away.” She started to close the door, but he stepped forward, stopping her.

  “Take pity on this poor stranger, a lost soul left to wander aimlessly in your fair city,” he said. His face was serious now, long lashes screening the expression in his eyes. “You’re my only hope for a dinner companion.”

  “Go find Jill, the woman who let you in. Unit 408. She prefers sushi.”

  “She’s no substitute for you. Come on, Annie,” he added, his voice low and coaxing. “For old time’s sake.”

  Anna wanted to growl. She did not want to go out to dinner with Evan. The more she saw of him, the more aggravated she would become. Before she could answer, he produced a bunch of roses from behind his back. They were a bright flame in the dim light of the hall. Anna couldn’t help reaching out to take them.

  “They’re lovely.” She buried her nose in the blossoms and breathed in their heady sweetness. Irritated with her own weakness, she held the roses at arm’s length, trying to give them back to Evan. He put his hands in his pockets, foiling her efforts. “I’m sure they would impress Jill.”

  “Probably, but they’re for you.”

  “Why are you bombarding me with heavy artillery?”

  “Because I’m hungry and want to take you to dinner.” A sly smile tilted one corner of Evan’s mouth. “Your mother’s going to be very disappointed when I tell her you wouldn’t even have dinner with me.”

  The ridiculous threat brought a reluctant smile to Anna’s lips, then she sighed, knowing she had been beaten. She stepped aside, motioning him to enter. “Come in. I have to change.”

  “Not on my account.”

  “No, on mine,” she said sourly. There was no way she was going out in public looking like she did. For one, she needed the armor that only good attire could provide. And, though he had changed clothes, Evan still looked like a fashion model. His charcoal wool suit fit so well, it had to be custom-made. His tie was green this time, echoing the color of his eyes and intensifying their pull.

  “Have a seat. Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

  “No, I’m fine.” He walked a few steps into the room and stopped as Anna closed the door. “So, this is your secret lair.”

  Anna refused to rise to that bait. She went to the kitchen and brought a tall glass vase out of a cupboard and filled it with a little water. Peeling the tissue paper away from the stems and clipping the rubber bands that secured them, she arranged the roses in the vase. As she worked, she watched Evan from the corner of her eye. He walked to the middle of the room and turned a slow circle.

  “No wonder your parents can’t pry you out of San Francisco,” he remarked.

  Anna smiled as she poured more water into the vase, feeling a flush of pleasure at the implied compliment. She loved her high-ceilinged, airy condo. And she did think of it as her lair, her hideaway. A former sugar warehouse, the oak floors showed the scars and stains from the pallets and crates of raw sugar that had been slid across them. Overhead, the ceiling was crisscrossed with ducts and an exposed sprinkler system, all painted navy blue. The walls were exposed brick with plaster still clinging in rough, ragged sections—except for the front wall. That was entirely windows, floor to ceiling. Long drapes which could be drawn over them framed the view, but Anna seldom bothered to close them. With the panorama of the Bay, there was no one outside who could easily see into her home. The seagulls didn�
��t seem interested in whatever they saw.

  Evan prowled across the hardwood floor, stopping in front of three paintings hanging on the far wall.

  “Is this Tangier Island?” he asked, looking away from the middle canvas.

  “Mmm. And that one’s up the Sassafras River. The other is the entrance to Queenstown Creek.”

  “Can’t take the Chesapeake out of the girl, can you?”

  “It’s always good to remember where you come from.” She shrugged. “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time.” Evan had wandered over to the bookcase and pulled out a volume on French architecture as she escaped into her bedroom.

  Anna sat on the bed for a moment and closed her eyes. Drawing a deep breath into her lungs, she held it, then let it out slowly. It’s just dinner with a family friend. He would be gone tomorrow. Rising, she went to the closet and pulled out a dress. Surveying her random pick, she decided it was perfect for this nondate date. A golden-tan silk, it was slim-fitting, but sedate, sleeveless with a slightly scooped neckline. The skirt ended just above her knees, flaring out at the bottom in a series of pleats.

  She quickly changed, then fixed her makeup before brushing her hair. The bright red curls bounced as she ran her fingers through to settle them into submission. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if Evan would see the edgy nerves that she saw lurking in her dark brown eyes. Not if you don’t let him. She turned away and slipped on shoes, then picked up a pair of earrings and carried them with her to the living room.

  Evan was standing with his back to her, staring out the window. As she came to his side, she noticed that he had her glass in one hand. “Excellent wine,” he said, raising it to her, then taking a sip. “Nice view, too.”

  “I believe you complimented me on that earlier today. You’re repeating yourself already and we’ve been together less than an hour,” she said.