When the doorbell rang, she jumped, startled, then grumbling under her breath, headed for the front door. It didn’t take long. Her house was small. An old beach cottage, with one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, a serviceable kitchen and a living room only big enough to hold her worktable, a love-seat-size couch and one chair. There were built-in bookcases, though, and room for a TV and stereo. It was small, but it was hers and she loved it, since it was the first real home she’d ever had.
She glanced around, making sure everything was tidy before she opened the door. Jesse stood on her small front porch lined with terra-cotta pots bursting with petunias, pansies and marigolds. The spicy scent of the flowers filled the sultry night air and rushed into her lungs as she inhaled sharply with her first sight of him.
He looked…edible.
His dark blond hair was a little long, hanging over the collar of his white, long-sleeved dress shirt. The collar was open, displaying just a bit of his tanned chest. He wore black slacks, black shoes and a smile that was designed to tempt angels out of heaven.
“You look nice,” he said, his gaze resting just a little bit longer than necessary on her breasts. “Are you ready?”
Bella’s stomach swirled with nerves that she tried to believe would fade away. But one look into Jesse’s eyes assured her that the nervous feeling in her stomach was only going to get worse. All she had to do, she told herself, was to stay strong. Sure, she thought as his gaze locked on hers, no problem.
“Probably not,” she admitted with a shrug, “but let’s go anyway.”
He laughed softly. “That’s the spirit!”
Bella had to smile despite the butterflies still swarming in her stomach. Then she turned, picked up her purse and keys and stepped onto the porch beside him. He closed the door behind her, took her hand in his and said softly, “I’ve been waiting three years for tonight.”
Jesse’s house was, naturally, gorgeous. Bella knew it would be from the moment he steered his sports car up a winding driveway to a house that seemed to be perched on top of a hill. It was.
It was also the first shock of the evening.
“It’s a ‘green’ house?” she asked, as they walked toward the front door.
“Right down to the bamboo floors and the recycled glass windows,” he told her, grinning at the stunned bemusement on her face. “The builders use concrete. Good insulation, less steel needed for reinforcement and the foundations are easier to lay with less of an impact on the land and—” He broke off, staring at her. “What?”
Bella shook her head. She simply couldn’t believe this. He was…more green than she was.
The house was designed to look like an old adobe Spanish-style home. It was surrounded by flowering bushes and dozens of trees. There were solar panels on the roof and wide windows overlooked the ocean, and even the front door looked…rustic.
“I don’t believe this,” she whispered.
He grinned even more widely. “Surprised? Maybe even…shocked?”
She snapped her head up and stared at him. He’d tricked her neatly because he had to know she never would have believed that he was so environmentally conscious. Why, he was the destroyer and pillager of historic districts. He was the man who was personally turning her beloved hometown into a cookie-cutter community.
And he had jute welcome mats.
Oh God.
She was really in trouble now.
“You set me up, didn’t you?”
“You set yourself up, Bella,” he said, laughing as he opened the door and ushered her inside. “You assumed you knew everything about me and you were willing to bet on it.”
“But you let me,” she countered, sweeping past him into the house. Just as she’d thought. It was even more perfect inside than out. Dammit.
“Hell, yes, I let you,” he said, chuckling low in his throat so that it sounded like a rumbling freight train.
“You cheated. You knew I’d never expect something like this,” she waved both hands out, encompassing the entire house. “I mean, I try to do things the ‘green’ way, but this is…”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“Are you kidding?” she demanded, glaring at him. “You’re the guy who ripped out the heart of the business district and gave it all the personality of a damp rock.”
He frowned at her. “That’s business. And, just so you know, the materials used were all ‘green.’”
“Why? Why do you care?”
“I’m a surfer, Bella. Of course I’m interested in the environment. I want clean oceans and air, I just don’t broadcast what I do.”
“No, you hide it.”
“No, I don’t. If you’d bothered to look a little deeper at me, you’d have found plenty of information. The ‘Save the Waves’ foundation? Mine. King Beach supports it.”
She needed to sit down. Bella stared at him, amazed and…impressed. How was she supposed to reconcile her image of the corporate raider with this very unexpected side of Jesse King? Was it possible she’d been wrong about him? And if she were, what else had she been mistaken about?
Her gaze swept the interior. Bamboo floors, shining under coats of polish. Skylights cut into the ceiling allowed moonlight to drift into the foyer, giving the whole house a magical look. And it was working on Bella. She was beyond shocked. She was pleased. And almost proud. How ridiculous was that?
He tucked her hand through his elbow and led her down a long, wide hallway. “Come on. I asked the housekeeper to serve dinner on the patio.”
On either side of them, the whitewashed walls were studded with family photos. Her heels tapped against the bamboo floor as she walked beside Jesse. She glanced at the photos as they passed, trying to take them all in. But there were just too many of them.
“Told you I had a lot more at home,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to all of them after dinner if you want.”
Dinner. And, she thought, since he’d managed to absolutely shock her, she would be dessert. Unless she backed out. Ran away. Told him she’d changed her mind. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but she had no doubt he’d let her leave. He might be arrogant and pushy, but he wasn’t a bully.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“I knew you’d be shocked, but I still can’t help wondering why,” he said, leading her through a set of French doors onto a flagstone patio, Bella’s breath caught in her throat.
A full moon was up and shining down on the ocean, laying a wide, silver ribbon of a path that looked as though all you had to do was follow it to find something wonderful. Stars winked out of a black sky and a sea wind slid over her skin like a caress. A small, round table was set with white linen, fine china and crystal. A bottle of wine stood open and “breathing” in the center of the table, and candle flames flickered wildly in the protective circle of hurricane-glass globes.
“Wow,” she murmured.
“I agree.”
She looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at the view, or the setting. He was watching her. Was it part of his game? His routine for charming women? Or was this something