The Tycoon's Christmas Proposal. Jackie BraunЧитать онлайн книгу.
number of the person who was calling, she decided to make an exception.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi. It’s Dawson Burke.”
“Well, this is unexpected.”
He sounded confused when he asked, “Didn’t my secretary tell you I would be calling?”
“Mrs. Stern? Yes, she did. Which is why I’m in a state of shock. I mean, if I had a dollar for every time your secretary has told me you’d get back with me…” She let her words trail off.
“Very funny,” he muttered. “Are you this flippant with all of your clients?”
“Nope. You seem to bring it out in me.” But she moderated her tone and added, “Thank you for returning my call.”
“You’re welcome.”
“The reason I phoned you earlier is that I’m on my way down to an art gallery in Boulder to pick up some pieces by a local artist for another client of mine. Buying artwork for someone is like buying clothes. It has to fit the recipient’s style.”
“Which makes it personal,” he said.
“Exactly. So I was wondering if art might be something that would appeal to any of the friends or family members on your list?”
He made a humming noise, then said, “My parents’ walls are pretty full at this point and I wouldn’t presume to know my sister’s taste in art as she’s made a hobby out of redecorating her home. My friends…I don’t know.”
“Oh, well, it was just a thought.” Her exit was coming up, so Eve shifted her vehicle to the right lane. “How’s the questionnaire coming along?”
She heard him clear his throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“You haven’t filled it out,” she guessed.
“Not yet, no.”
“Mr. Burke—”
“Dawson, please.”
“All right. And you can call me Eve. But I really want that information. I need it, as I explained to you the other night,” she said.
“A matter of principle, I believe you said.”
“Yes.”
“And if I refuse?” he asked. The question sounded almost like a dare.
The dollar signs flashed again, but Eve thought about her father and she remembered her disappointment and heartache. She wasn’t willing to pass on those emotions to someone else. Her tone was firm when she replied, “I’d have to ask you to find another personal shopper. So, are you refusing?”
“No, but I have a better idea,” he said. “Do you have plans for tomorrow evening?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Since moving to Denver, Eve had spent nearly every Saturday night alone. But as it happened, she did have something going on. She’d told Carole she would stop by with Chinese food, a bottle of wine and some Christmas movies for the two of them to watch.
“I see.” Then he surprised her by asking, “Would it be possible for you to change them?”
Her curiosity was good and stoked. “Why? What do you have in mind?”
“Each year around this time my mother throws a really big to-do. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? The Tallulah Malone Burke Charity Ball and Auction.”
She put on her blinker and maneuvered the Tahoe onto the exit ramp. “No, sorry, but I haven’t been in Denver long.”
“That’s all right. Stick around and you will.” There was pride in his tone when he added, “It’s been an annual event for the past twenty-five years, drawing in the well-heeled and well-connected to raise money for the area’s less fortunate.”
“How nice,” Eve said and meant it.
“Yes, well, the party is tomorrow night.”
Comprehension dawned and something Eve didn’t want to admit might be interest danced up her spine. After all, the man wasn’t her type at all. Too arrogant. Too domineering. “Are—are you asking me out?”
“Not exactly,” he said. “I need an escort for the evening. And you will be compensated.”
Indignation blasted along with the horn of the car behind her, and she realized she’d come to a full stop even though she had the right of way. She sent the other driver a wave of apology and turned into the nearest parking lot.
“Eve?”
She waited until the vehicle was in Park before she let loose. “Maybe I wasn’t clear about the nature of the services I provide. I’m a personal shopper, not a personal anything else.”
She heard Dawson cough. Actually, he sounded as if he might have choked a little, which suited her just fine. He deserved it. Then, he said, “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Compensation was a poor choice of words. What I meant by it was that many of the people on my gift list will be in attendance. In addition to my parents, sister and her family, a number of business acquaintances and longtime Burke Financial clients attend.”
“Oh.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize when he added, “I thought seeing them, meeting them, might help you do your job more effectively. You know, live up to those high principles you speak of.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No.” He expelled a breath. “For the record, Eve, I admire you for taking a stand. I haven’t met many people in business whose principles can hold up under pressure from the bottom line.”
He sounded sincere, which went a long way toward soothing her temper. “So, this would be sort of like a business function.”
“It would be exactly like a business function,” he corrected. “But with better food. No rubber chicken or cheap champagne. My mother doesn’t believe in doing anything halfway.”
As Eve was privy to Dawson’s gift budget she decided it was a trait he had inherited.
“It sounds very fancy.”
“Black tie required. Do you have something to wear?”
“I think I can find something suitable in my closet,” she replied blandly. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly between her teeth. “Where and what time?”
“Does that mean you’ll come?” He sounded surprised and maybe even a little relieved.
She was probably going to hate herself for it later, but she said, “Yes.”
“And your other date? I trust that the last-minute change in plans won’t cause any…problems.”
Eve nearly laughed out loud as it dawned on her that he thought the plans she’d mentioned earlier were with a man. She saw no reason to enlighten him.
So she said, “Don’t worry. I can reschedule it. After all, this is work.”
CHAPTER THREE
DAWSON cursed and yanked at his bow tie as he stood in front of the vanity mirror. This was his third attempt at tying it and it still had turned out lopsided. He wasn’t sure why his hands wouldn’t cooperate, any more than he could put a finger on the origin of the nerves fluttering in his stomach.
He hadn’t felt keyed up before either of the other dates, disasters that they’d wound up being. And his evening with Eve wasn’t a date at all. It was business, he reminded himself, as he finished with his tie, checked his watch and called for his driver to bring the car around.
Business was forgotten, however, the moment Eve opened her apartment door. She was wearing red, her lips and nails painted the same dangerous shade. She’d