“This project, this location, it has to be handled delicately. Discreetly. I can’t hire any designer off the street. I need someone I can trust to keep their mouth closed and not leak what I have planned.”
“You haven’t even told me what you have planned,” Gage points out.
“Exactly, and I’m not going to either. That’s why I think Ivy is the perfect fit.” This part is true. I do want her to work for me. I trust that she won’t blab what I have planned for the remote location. An even sexier, more intimate resort than Hush, it will cater to wealthy couples that want an indulgent getaway with their significant other.
Private gourmet meals, couples massages, the small hotel will be exclusive to only eight couples at any given time. The location will be the ultimate in intimate, quiet luxury.
“Well, good luck. Give her a call. I’m betting she’ll say no.”
“Why does everything circle back to a bet?” I ask irritably, not needing the reminder. “And how do you know she’ll say no?”
But she doesn’t count toward the bet, right? Didn’t Gage and Matt count her out? After all, she’s just Ivy.
“She doesn’t particularly like you, Archer. You know this.” Gage makes it sound like common knowledge. “And besides, I’m going to guess her boss won’t let her take on the project. Sounds like it’ll be over Ivy’s head.”
“I want her. Only her.” I clear my throat, realizing how that sounds. “For the project,” I add weakly.
“Good luck. I doubt you’ll get her, but more power to you.”
Gage’s words are just the challenge I need to hear.
Chapter Nine
Ivy
“CHICKEN, I NEED your help.”
Icy shock moves through my veins at the first sound of Archer’s familiar, deep and sexy-as-hell voice. The very last person I expected to call me at my office on an early Wednesday afternoon—and just how did he get my work number anyway?
Duh, your brother.
Freaking Gage.
“No, ‘Hello, Ivy, how’s it going?’ And I really, really wish you wouldn’t call me chicken.” I’m trying to joke. Or more like trying to figure out if he really does need my help. I mean, come on. Like hearing from him out of nowhere nearly a month later, after what happened between us, is no big deal.
It’s such a big deal.
“So nice to hear from you, Archer. What’s it been, a couple days?” Almost twenty-five days, not that I’m keeping count.
“Very f**king funny, Ivy. I’m not kidding,” he growls irritably. “I need your help, and I needed it yesterday.”
“And you’re calling me? Why? How exactly can I help you?” Wow, I sound remarkably cool and calm, but deep within my insides are trembling. And for whatever crazy reason, my ni**les are hard. All from his gruff, commanding tone. So ridiculous, but it’s like the second I hear his voice, my body reacts. I haven’t been able to get that night out of my mind. Images of a naked Archer above me, kissing me, buried deep inside me are burned on my brain.
“You’re still single, right?” he asks, knocking me from my thoughts.
“How is that any of your business?” My heart lodges in my throat. As if he would care. “And who told you that?” Fine. I so am. I haven’t talked to Marc, the jerk, since I broke it off with him. And I haven’t talked to any other guy either, let alone gone out on a date since my night with Archer.
Has he somehow ruined me forever? God, I hope not. I’m only twenty-four. I don’t want to die a shriveled up old lady pining for a man who had sex with me once and then walked away.
“Gage told me.”
I’m going to kill my brother. “Why do you care if I’m single or not?”
“I have a proposition for you.” He pauses and my heart falls into my stomach with hope. “A business proposition.”
Of course. Not that I expected a sexual one. Hello, been down that road once before and look where it got me? A lot of lonely, achy nights waking up after sweaty, too-graphic dreams involving me and him naked. “What sort of business proposition could you possibly have for me?”
“We’re getting ready to open a new set of suites at Hush. There’s only a handful, but they’re bigger, much more exclusive—and expensive—and I need someone to design the interior.” He pauses and my heart squeezes. “I want you.”
Hearing his familiar, deep voice say he wants me in that commanding way of his sets my legs shaking. And I’m sitting down. Ridiculous. “Maybe I’m busy,” I say haughtily, which is true.
“Come on, Ivy. You’re not too busy for me, are you?” He’s teasing me, but there’s a sexual edge to his voice. One I want to ignore.
“Actually, I am. I have a lot of projects I’m working on currently for clients.” I sound like a prim schoolteacher, but damn it, I know I have an appointment I need to get to soon. I really don’t have time to listen to him go on and on about how much he needs me. Getting my hopes up only for them to come crashing down when he never contacts me again.
He’s real good at that.
“I’ll make it worth your while.” His voice lowers, deceptively soft yet edged with smoky, sensual heat.
Tingles sweep over my skin. “I’m sure you will,” I say sarcastically. I refuse to let him know how much he still affects me, especially after he so callously ignored me this past month.