Alysia’s eyes widened. He might be referring to business, but somehow the air had gone from crackling with animosity to being supercharged with sexual innuendo. She thrust her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans, not wanting to be betrayed into covering her breasts. It was bad enough that her nipples had hardened into revealing awareness, but she didn’t want to act as if it mattered.
“It depends,” she drawled. “On the individual customer and the work needed.”
“Really? Give me an example. How much do you charge for restoring, say, Queen Anne chairs?” He leaned forward, a slight smile playing on his mouth and looking uncannily like hisseafaring great-grandfather.
Alysia’s pulse jumped. The man beneath the stuffed suit had potential, and he was lethally attractive when he wasn’t frowning. “Er, it depends on the condition of the chair, and who’s asking for restoration.”
“You charge different amounts for different customers?”
“Why don’t you just ask me what you want to know,” Alysia snapped. She didn’t like subtle games of ambush and snide innuendo, and she suspected Jacob Reynolds was trying to scare her off. Buying her off hadn’t worked, nor had threats of legal maneuvering. Maybe he thought she would turn tail if he made a sexual pass. Fat chance.
“I was wondering about the house. How much would you charge for the restoration? Provided I’m willing to pay.”
His tone sounded more normal, but she remained suspicious. “I’ll give you a bargain. Ten thousand. And you pay for the materials, plumbers, electricians and carpenters.”
“That’s ridiculous. I thought you said you were a businesswoman,” he said, disgusted. “Restoration on this scale could cost fifty thousand, maybe more.”
Alysia breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Reynolds had returned to his normal persona—self-righteous, insulting and snooty. “How I run my business is none of your concern.”
Her tawny hair was a golden halo in the fading light and Jacob stepped forward, gaze fixed on her cat green eyes. She was just like a feline. Unpredictable, unreasonable, all silken fur and steel claws. He didn’t like cats and he didn’t like Alysia McKenna. He especially didn’t like the way he felt when he was near her—turned on and inclined to abandon control.
“You’re a disaster,” he said deliberately. “I don’t like earthy women with dirty faces and bare feet. Your hair is a mess,” Jacob touched the shimmering mane. It felt clean and soft. He tugged his finger through a snarl and caught a faint whiff of fresh mint. “You’re pushy and in my way.” His thumb stroked the line of her jaw, then drifted around her ear.
“You’re not my type, either.”
He swallowed. He’d only intended to startle her with his suggestive approach, but the throaty, hoarse sound of her voice did something to his gut. He flattened his palms on the wall on either side of her shoulders.
“I don’t think…type is the issue,” he whispered.
“You never know. But I guess it doesn’t matter, since we’re stuck with each other.” Her faint smile challenged him.
Jacob leaned closer and caught her mouth. He was right, she had a delicious mouth, pure fire. He fought an insistent urge to lift her against the wall and fill her body with his own. It wasn’t like him, but neither was the ill-tempered maniac who had yelled and tried to pay her off.
There was something about Alysia McKenna that knocked him off balance. Her clear gaze seemed to look straight into his soul, which was absurd; he couldn’t trust a woman like that.
He pushed a few inches away and looked into her changeable eyes. No longer catlike, they were the dusky green of a stormy sea. Angry? Aroused? He couldn’t tell. Quick, shallow breaths lifted her breasts and the worn fabric did nothing to conceal their thrusting, unfettered shape.
“Was that supposed to prove something?” she asked.
“Chalk it up to letting off steam, clearing the air.” Jacob glanced down her body again. He had the overwhelming feeling she would be sensational in his bed, but dynamite in his life—dynamite as in exploding, disastrous, upsetting and utterly a problem.
Alysia cleared her throat. His hands were still planted on the wall beside her shoulders. “Are you done?” she asked.
He smiled lazily. “When I’m done you’ll know it.”
“Is that a reference to your sexual prowess? Or were you referring to the matter of my lease?”
“You’re direct.”
“I try to be.” Alysia slid her hand around Jacob Reynolds’s neck and drew his face down. She could play this game, too. Her kiss was brief but expertly placed. “There,” she breathed against his mouth, her tongue flicking his lower lip. “Now the air is clear.”
“Is that the only reason you kissed me?”
“Sure,” she said smoothly. “We’ll soon be living together. Even people who dislike each other can wonder what it would be like to kiss that other person. Any possible curiosity is now satisfied. You’ve taken a turn and I’ve taken a turn. Nothing happened. End of problem.”
Her eyes were back to that catlike glow, and Jacob knew it wasn’t so simple. Something had definitely happened. “Then I’d better leave while the count is even.”
In the hall, Jacob shook his head in an attempt to clear the sensual fog surrounding him. Deep in thought, he failed to notice the feline conveniently situated on the staircase. A lightning paw reached through the railing and swiped down his shoulder, missing his ear by a fraction of an inch.
Jacob whirled and snarled wordlessly. The Captain spat back. The battle lines had been clearly drawn.
“This is my house.”
The Captain spat again.
“You’re as unreasonable as your owner.” But nowhere near as tantalizing.
The staccato raps of the cat’s tail against the staircase echoed in the quiet house.
“I hope you break that tail.”
He heard Tracy from the car. Incredibly, she was laughing. It had been a long time since he’d heard her laugh. “Lay a paw on my daughter and you’re cat soup,” he warned.
Whiskers twitched.
“Damn,” Jacob muttered. “Threatening a cat. I’m losing my mind.”
The sun was just peeking above the horizon when Alysia opened her eyes. She yawned, then groaned. For a glorious moment she’d forgotten about her soon-to-be-resident problem, Jacob Reynolds.
Resident. As in living together. Naw…she dismissed that description. It sounded too much like…well…living together. He’d upset her life already, and certainly her sleep. Twice she’d awakened during the night. Each time because of an erotic dream involving horizontal calisthenics with the man.
“Maybe I’m attracted to Jacob because he looks like Captain James,” she speculated out loud, then dismissed the thought.
The unpleasant truth was she found Jacob Reynolds dangerously attractive and didn’t know how to handle it. If his kiss was anything to judge by, a man of infinite passion existed beneath his starched appearance, a man who could rival the sexy Captain James Reynolds in every way.
Swiping a lock of hair from her eyes, Alysia sighed. She could forget her X-rated dreams and Jacob. But making friends with his mother and daughter would be nice. In the few minutes Alysia had spent