Belinda deliberately brushed off the remark. The strange ping of excitement blipped on her romantic radar. “Good seeing you, Grandma.”
“Hmm. As I said, I’ll be back.”
Belinda waited until her grandmother drove away before she made a U-turn back to the office and pushed down on the accelerator. One thought muscled past her body’s silly reactions to this stranger. How would she stay focused, with Jesse Santiago sabotaging her steely determination with such übersexy maleness?
Belinda stood outside the office for a few seconds to get herself together. Being outed by her grandmother was a bit like someone pointing out a pimple on her forehead, an embarrassing fact that didn’t need to be put on blast. The best solution would be to ignore him as much as she could after she acknowledged that Jesse looked good from head to toe. She would file her reaction under Do-Not-Entertain Thoughts and move on to the matter on hand—the equine-therapy center.
She kicked off her boots and padded in her socks past Tawny. Her assistant held up several full-size printed pages of Jesse, some solo, some with a female companion. She gave a thumbs-up gesture, which Belinda ignored. Despite being in full agreement that, yes, the man was more than just handsome, fine, drop-dead gorgeous, she refused to confirm it. With the last photo of him on her mind, Belinda stepped into her office.
“Oh...” She couldn’t help feeling flustered. With all those thumbs-up signs, Tawny didn’t bother to give any indicators that he was already here.
Belinda stepped farther into the office and took notice of the small details about him. He sat back in the chair which was turned slightly outward as if he waited for her to enter. While some salespersons came on business in a nervous and eager state, this man owned his calm demeanor. Meanwhile, he cupped the bottle of antacids from her desk in his hands, before repeatedly tossing it in the air. His gaze never left her face, except for a casual once-over when she walked toward him.
In the small space, the disturbing wild energy she’d sensed from him before grew more intense. Close up, the man was more than handsome with his rich, brown skin, striking features and tall stature. His voice hadn’t been hard on the ears, either. Cool and casual seemed to be his signature style, as if the only place that he’d break a sweat was on the soccer field. The dark shades he wore and kept on in her office tossed in a bit of mystery, an attitude that somehow he was detached from, and bored by, the world of regular folk.
“Is the light bothering you?” she pointedly asked. It was time to get down to business. Not being able to read him wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t make it better.
He shook his head and removed the glasses. He blinked. Or maybe she did, several times. The corner of his mouth hitched into a half smile. He tossed out the net, and she got caught. Gotcha.
Gray eyes with hints of olive and amber. Thick, dark lashes to go with the heavy eyebrows. Put the glasses back on. Now her admiration volleyed between the deep-set eyes and his mouth. In between the points of her indecision, the angles and planes of his cheek and chin were chiseled to perfection. Once more, he blinked and her stomach did a flip. She had to cut that out. Right now, her mind was a little preoccupied and her body reacted accordingly like a starved woman at a buffet.
No wonder he had females ready to lose their common sense. Falling under his spell sounded far-fetched in the gossip magazines. But when the subject sat in the chair a few feet away looking like God’s gift, the reality certainly had a different spin. Her recommendation—he needed a warning label.
She wouldn’t react to him only if she was dead or celibate, and since neither applied, she stood the chance of succumbing to Jesse Santiago fever. Those good looks had to be all window dressing. She remained unconvinced that there was anything of substance behind the rock-hard physique.
He broke the silence. “Didn’t realize that I was working with Grace Meadows.”
“You’re not,” Belinda responded with deliberate sharpness. “You’re working for me.” And that new arrangement wasn’t a given, although it had moved from “heck no” to serious consideration.
“That’s what I thought until I met Mrs. Meadows. Cool lady.” His mouth twitched. Not really a smile. Again with the casual tilt of the head—he was studying her.
“She is.” Belinda settled into her seat. “Would you like coffee?” she offered. Personally, between the coffee and tea, she would float away with another cup.
“No. I’m good.”
She nodded. No argument there. Time to get down to business. Sharing her vision would be the best way to figure out if Jesse had what it took to do the job. She’d listen to him weigh in on the plans, then she’d evaluate his potential contribution.
Although construction was near the midpoint of completion, Belinda started her presentation with what had been accomplished and her expectation of the final facility. Several times, she paused to see if he was onboard. He said nothing, but sat poised, leaning forward. Maybe he was a silent thinker.
“That’s it in a nutshell.” She closed her speech by turning his attention to the final mock-up of her facility in full use with trainers, horses and children.
“A lot of kids are in need of such a place?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, there is a need. And more doctors and therapists are agreeing on the effectiveness of this alternative.”
Again, the silent regard. Unnerving.
Belinda reiterated, “The project must be completed by September.”
“Really?” He pushed himself out of the chair and strode around the desk.
Remaining in her chair set her at a disadvantage. It didn’t help that his hips were too close to her eye level. The jeans, even with the way they loosely draped his lower body, couldn’t diminish certain assets. Retirement had not reduced him to a squishy mound of flesh. The corded muscles of his forearms, with tattoos winding around one limb, provided a visual sampler of a man who once seemed fond of celebrating his goals with a massive roar while gripping his soccer shirt in one hand.
Thanks, Tawny, for flashing me that photo treat.
“Barely three months to finish.” Now he looked closely at her vision board.
“Is that a problem?” She stood and matched his crossed-arms stance.
“Why are you building such a large riding ring? Plus, you’re adding a building.”
“Renovating,” she corrected, not liking his accusatory tone.
“A lot of horses.”
“A lot of children.”
He frowned. “Thought it was also a horse-training stable for jumping.”
“Why would you think so?”
“I figured you competed. You’ve got the body for it.” He spread his arms wide and offered the first real smile she’d seen with a flash of bright white. “Just being on the up-and-up. No harm. No foul.”
Immediately, her cheeks warmed. The compliment rushed at her like a rogue wave and covered her in tingly excitement. But enough willpower kicked in to keep her from giggling like a nitwit.
“You’d wear those skintight pants. The little black helmet tied under your chin.” He grinned. “I’ve seen it on TV.”
“Are you quite finished?”
He opened his mouth to respond.
She waved off any further trek down this strange, winding path. “Don’t answer that.”
“Hey,