In truth, she tended to want to delve too deeply into what made people tick. Well, her mother said so anyway.
A short silence fell before Linc cleared his throat and addressed his brother. ‘Have you discussed accommodation options with Fiona yet?’
‘That was next on my list.’ Brent turned to her. ‘You’re welcome to do whatever you like about your living arrangements, but Linc owns an investment property you might be interested in renting. It’s a one bedroom flat about a ten minute drive from here. The complex it’s in has courtyard parking for a car, if you own one.’
‘Are you serious? I thought I’d be looking all weekend and maybe end up staying in a pub or hostel before I managed to pin something down.’ Fiona tried to stifle her grin, and failed.
A smile lurked in the backs of Brent’s eyes in response, a beautiful, lovely smile. The man was lethal, and she didn’t understand the connection she felt towards him.
Fiona drew a steadying breath and turned to Linc. ‘How much are you asking for the flat per month? I’ll have to stick to a budget.’
Linc named the figure.
‘I’ll be able to afford that rent.’ That was a relief, and she simply needed to concentrate on the tasks and necessities at hand. Not on eyes that smiled at her through shields that made her think of her own life, its hurts and triumphs, and what Brent’s might have been and might be now. ‘When can I sign a lease agreement? I don’t need to see the place first. If you recommend it, that’s all I need to know. I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to pin this down, if that’s at all possible.’
She smoothed her hands over her thighs and told herself to stop babbling.
Though Brent had remained silent during this interchange, his gaze followed the movement and she thought she heard him make a soft sound in the back of his throat before he glanced away.
If so, it was probably because she had drawn his attention to just how non-slim those thighs were.
On this lowering thought Fiona suppressed a sigh. Her body was what it was. There was no changing her build, or her height, or what she preferred to refer to as her curviness but her mother said was the result of far too much self-indulgence and couldn’t Fiona try to eat less?
She didn’t overeat. Her tiny mother couldn’t see that, though. To Eloise Donner, Fiona was the stork among the pigeons and someone needed to shrink her somehow. Preferably while shrinking her into a far more practical mould at the same time.
And Brent had simply followed her movement with his gaze. It was completely meaningless. It wasn’t as though her employer would be noticing her in that respect.
Which was a good thing, she reminded herself.
Linc drew a folded document and a set of keys from his back pocket and handed both to her. ‘Once you’ve read the lease, you can go ahead and sign it and leave it with Jaimie. She’ll pass it on to me the next time I’m here. Brent will explain where the place is and about getting you moved in, if you need help with that.’
The two brothers excused themselves and left then, and Fiona curled her fingers around the keys and lease and turned to her employer. ‘That was generous of you and your brother. Thank you.’
‘It was no trouble. Linc deals in a lot of that kind of property investment.’ Brent watched his brothers exit the room and the building before he allowed his gaze to return to his new employee. He hadn’t meant to follow the slide of Fiona’s hands down her thighs moments ago.
He hadn’t meant to notice her at all, but he had. She was a striking woman. Tall, beautifully built and curvy in all the right places. A woman who wouldn’t blow away in a strong breeze, who a man could hold in his arms without fear of crushing her.
She was also femininity through and through. From the dark blonde hair tied back from her face in a high ponytail to the robin’s egg blue eyes and fine arched brows, the straight nose and generous mouth, she looked softer than a flower, and equally as sweet.
The thoughts surprised him. Not the appreciation of her beauty. How could any man fail to notice that? But the intimacy of where his thoughts had taken him—thoughts of how it would be to hold her, of wanting to protect her from harm. Brent’s life had been all about protecting himself, his brothers. His father had put him in a place where he’d had no choice but to be strong. To hide his flaws from the world so they wouldn’t judge him as Charles had done. Brent hadn’t reached out to a woman for the kind of intimacy that would result in wanting to protect her as well as protect his own interests in a long time. Actually…he never had.
He never would do that. His limits would forever prevent that. And Fiona looked the kind of woman who would deserve exactly that kind of…care.
Which simply reminded him that he needed to appreciate her attractiveness from the distance of an unconnected observer.
Right. And he did. He’d simply become distracted for a moment. The same thing applied to the head twitch he’d experienced earlier. It wouldn’t happen again in front of her. He’d make sure of that as he did in all other circumstances.
Brent nodded in a completely concise, controlled manner as he came to this conclusion. If he felt somewhat relieved to have arrived back at a more known, comfortable place in his thinking, he told himself this was a good thing, anyway. ‘Let’s take you to Jaimie so you can sign your employment agreement and leave the lease with her.’
Once Fiona had done that, Brent gestured to his office area. ‘Would you like to hear about some of the projects I’ve got going? Some preliminary information to give you an idea of what’s in store for you?’
‘Oh, yes, please. That will give me a chance to think over the weekend before I start work officially on Monday.’ Fiona half-reached one hand towards him, dropped it self-consciously to her side, and her face pinked slightly.
His gaze locked onto that blossom of colour and his breath caught…
He pushed the door of his office open and stepped through to open the adjoining door. ‘You’ll be working in here. It’s a decent-sized room. I hope it’ll suit your needs.’
His voice was deep. Too deep. He cleared his throat.
Fiona’s gaze tracked around the long room, dodged his. ‘I’m sure it will. It’s a generous working space. There’s good light for my easel work, and plenty of desk space for computer monitors.’
‘I imagine there’ll be times when you’ll need all of that space.’
‘Is it okay to dress casually for when I’m painting? I realise there’ll be times when I need to look smart. Client discussions…’ A little ridge formed between her brows. ‘Perhaps I should just dress smart all the time, and wear a smock or something when I paint. I’m inclined to be a bit messy during that process, but I could try to change that.’
‘There’s a dressing room. I keep clothes here. You can do the same. Messy is fine, anyway.’ The thought of her using his changing room, shedding clothes and putting on new ones, wasn’t a place he needed to go.
So get on with it, MacKay. ‘On Monday we’ll be helping to finish up a landscaping project, and I’ll want you to take photos and think about a painting for the clients. They’re an elderly couple, very agreeable. They’ll be happy with whatever you put together. The photos will go into a Progress Album for the clients and our stock here for showing clients how we work. Nothing for newspapers or magazines, though. I accept the occasional interview to keep the media off my back but I’m selective, so if you’re ever approached I expect you to shoot the enquiry straight to me.’
‘I will do that.’ Her expression showed she didn’t understand the ‘why’ of it, but her acceptance was enough. ‘And I can certainly take the photos and also use them to help me create an