Her head tilted and ribbons of hair fell over her shoulder, reaching nearly to her nipples. An image of her sitting there naked flashed through his mind and his cock began to throb. With another woman, he might have tried to hide it or will the erection away.

Not with Kate. He wanted her to see how she affected him.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean he knows what makes people feel good, whether it’s visual or tactile. The art he collects is a perfect example. Yes, most of it’s erotic but he chooses the pieces because they evoke an emotion, a response. That’s what he wants to do with the spa.”

She nodded, her lips curving in a smile. “And what do you bring to the table?”

“You know that already. I handle the business angles. The money, the staff. All those finer details Jed doesn’t want to be bothered with.”

“And you didn’t offer anything at all to the feel of Haven?”

He considered saying no, but that would be a lie. Still, his contribution to the aesthetics of Haven had been relatively small. And for the spa it would be even less. He just didn’t have the time. “I designed the atrium.”

Her smile told him she’d already known but was pleased he’d confided in her. It wasn’t something he bragged about. Not that he wasn’t proud of it. He was. But his work in the atrium had been one of the things that had gotten him through Mia’s death and he really hated to talk about that.

“Tell me about it. Where’d you get the idea?”

Setting her coffee cup on the nearest table, she let her head fall back against the chair cushion, her body relaxing. He wondered what she’d do if he walked over to her, slid her to the edge of the chair, and brought her off with his mouth. She’d certainly seemed to enjoy it last night.

Or would she think he was trying to avoid her questions? That he only wanted her for sex?

Better to stay where he was.

Later, he’d see if she’d be interested in riding him right here on the couch.

“My grandmother. My mother has been . . . ill most of her life, and Jed and I spent a lot of time with my grandmother at her home on the Main Line. Nana would spend hours in her gardens. And when I say gardens, I mean at least two acres of cultivated beds. Yes, she had help, but she was in charge of every aspect. What to plant, when to plant, where to plant. She should have been a landscape architect. Those beds are works of art.”

“And you helped her with those.”

He grinned. “Under protest, at first. I remember when I was ten, Nana had to drag me out of the house to help her. I used to think she loved torturing me by having me deadhead and weed. I mean, gardening was for girls. Or the hired help.”

“Not for a mighty Golden.” Her raised eyebrows held a challenge.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I had an oversized ego back then.”

“Don’t all ten-year-olds? But somewhere along the line, yours got deflated. How did that happen?”

He’d learned that life didn’t always go your way. “When I realized my mother would never be completely healthy or mentally stable. It was reinforced when my fiancée died.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother. I didn’t realize she had problems.”

“Neither did I until I was thirteen. I knew she had violent mood swings, and I realized pretty early on that her personal assistants were really private nurses. But we didn’t talk about our problems in my house. Jed became our mom’s jester. He was the only one who could put a smile on her face sometimes.”

“And you were the one who took care of everything else, weren’t you?”

“Why do you think that?”

She gave a short, little laugh that went straight to his balls. “Because that’s who you are. You take care of things. And you always expect things to go sideways so you’re not surprised when they do.”

It shook him to realize she’d seen that part of him so easily. Yes, he worked damn hard to present an unruffled appearance. Jed always said Armageddon could be happening and he would be stockpiling cases of water and caviar for the aftermath.

Which was probably true.

“So,” she started without waiting for his response, “tell me what you’ll expect from me and the boutique.”

“Does this mean I can have a contract drawn up?”

He hadn’t realized until now how much he wanted to tie her to him. At least through the boutique. Did that make him a bad person?

Her lips quirked into a wry little smile. “No. Not yet. I’d like to know a little more about what I’d be getting into. What my liabilities will be. What I’ll be expected to do.”

He appreciated that she wanted all her ducks in a row before she signed on the dotted line. “The way we work the boutique at the hotel is that Jed and I own the space. We hire a manager for the shop and she decides on the clothing she wants to stock. Then we work a deal with the designers. Every deal is different. Some of the pieces we take on consignment. Some we buy outright.”

“So I’d be just one of several designers in the boutique?”

He couldn’t tell if she liked the idea or not. “No. Because of the size of the boutique and the nature of the merchandise, we’re only planning to feature one designer. And from what I’ve seen, I think one will be more than enough. Your designs are beautiful, Kate. Sexy and sensuous, but they still manage to be tasteful. What I’ve seen is more than enough to make me confident your designs are perfect for what we’re looking for.”

Her cheeks blushed with the barest hint of color. “Thank you, Tyler. And I can’t deny that this is a major opportunity for me. I’d be a fool to pass it up.”

“Then say yes.” He wanted her to say yes. Wanted to work with her on this, help her build this.

Until now, he’d only ever trusted Jed to be his business partner. He’d even kept Mia on the sidelines about the hotel.

But Kate . . . He wanted Kate to want this, to want to work with him. Wanted it with a teeth-grinding need that shocked the hell out of him.

He trusted her judgment. Trusted her ability. Trusted her.

She drew in a deep breath, like she was preparing to take a plunge into deep water. “I need just a few more days to decide. Is that okay?”

No. But he couldn’t say that. “That’s fine. Now come over here and let’s not talk business.”

There was that half smile of hers again. “I still have a lot of questions—”

“And those can all be answered later. Right now, I want you.”

He barely reined in the urge to demand she get off the chair and come to him. Turned out he didn’t need to.

With her chin stuck in the air, she rose from her chair . . .

And turned toward the kitchen.

“Would you like some more coffee?”

He was on his feet and only steps behind her when she stepped into the tiny kitchen. Leaning against the wall, he watched her pour another mug for herself then held up the carafe at him.

“Did I frighten you last night?”

He needed to know. Needed to know if he had to curb his appetite if he wanted to continue to see her.

Because he really wanted to continue seeing her.

She didn’t answer right away and, for a few seconds, he wasn’t sure she was going to. Then she sighed and set the pot back into the machine.

“No, you didn’t scare me.”

Her emphasis on that one word made him hesitate and take a mental step back. “Then what did?”

She didn’t answer right away as she set her mug on the counter. Crossing her arms under her breasts, she stared up at him for several seconds before shaking her head. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for that type of lifestyle.”

What was he missing? “I’m not asking you to change the way you live, Kate. I’m not looking to take over your life or put a collar on you.”

Her expression showed nothing of her thoughts, and he wondered how she’d gotten so good at that. “I’m just not sure I enjoyed how it made me feel.”

Now, he knew that was bullshit. She’d enjoyed the hell out of it.

Why would she not want more of that pleasure?

His first inclination was to argue with her, but he bit back the urge. He could push her away and that’s exactly what he didn’t want to happen.

“Okay.” He shrugged as if he wasn’t beating back the very dominance that she found so distasteful. “Would you like to discuss terms for the boutique instead?”

For a moment she looked stunned, as if she hadn’t expected him to give in so easily. Then she nodded and gestured toward the tiny table against the wall. “Why don’t we sit down? Let me get a pad and pen to take notes. I’ve got lots of questions.”

Yeah, he was sure she did. Just not all of them were about the boutique. But it didn’t seem like they’d be talking about those anytime soon.

* * *

“So do you want to talk about it or are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room?”

Kate made a face at Annabelle as she pressed the hem on Mr. Morrissey’s new suit pants. The retired banker had to have the most expensive wardrobe of anyone in town. And she’d know because she’d been doing all of his alterations since she’d taken this job at Parisi Dry Cleaning.

His suits were Hugo Boss and his shirts custom made in Italy and shipped to his home for final fittings. He owned a huge horse farm outside of Adamstown and bred racing stock. He also dabbled in stocks, according to the town gossip mill, otherwise known as Cuppa Joe, Tracy Tate’s coffee shop on Main Street.

“There’s no elephant. Yes, we had amazing sex. Then he gave me details on the boutique at the spa to think over and then he left.”

No, Kate didn’t think there was an elephant. It was more like a voracious black bear, waiting to rise up on its hind legs and bite her in the ass.