Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby: Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby. Lilian DarcyЧитать онлайн книгу.
you’ll help me find the women who’ll live here and the employees who’ll work here.”
She blinked, trying not to be overwhelmed, trying not to panic at what was going to be expected of her. Breathe, Gen, breathe. Take it easy. Take it one step at a time, she thought. Just take one tiny step. “Okay. That all makes sense. For now, I guess—I should probably get started on the cleaning. There’s a lot of building here.”
A whole lot of scrubbing for a woman who had never done anything like that.
There was that elusive hint of a smile again, the straight, hard line of his mouth barely curving up at one corner. What had she said that was so amusing?
“I’m sure this isn’t what you grew up doing and I don’t expect you to single-handedly tackle this mess. I have two helpers coming in. They’ll be assisting you as the project progresses and they’ll be doing most of the repairing, painting and cleanup. But they’ll respect you more if they see that you’re not afraid of getting a little dirt beneath your fingernails.”
Was that a dare? Genevieve had no idea and no real idea of how to begin. She wasn’t even sure how to make use of her helpers who would be coming soon. She’d never been in this kind of position, and her parents had been flighty, self-absorbed people who probably weren’t typical employers, so there was little use in trying to utilize her past experiences. Still, she didn’t want to ask too many questions. If she was supposed to be a project manager, shouldn’t she appear … managerial? She especially didn’t want to ask anything that would make her look foolish. Barry had often made fun of her naïveté.
“All right. That makes sense. And I’m not afraid.” Not of getting dirt under her fingernails, but of Lucas, a man who overwhelmed by his presence and his manner and his looks …? Yes, she was afraid, but she didn’t want to think about that.
Instead, she picked up a broom and began to sweep. With vigor and determination. Soon the dust was swirling, flying all around, clogging her throat.
She couldn’t hold back a cough.
Lucas appeared at her side. He touched her hand.
Just the lightest of touches, but when his flesh met hers, fierce heat swirled through her, her breath caught, her whole body became aware of him as a man. She jerked back, stopped sweeping.
“Easy, Genevieve. It’s just dust. You want to push it, not attack it. Like this.” He demonstrated.
She took back the broom, embarrassed that she couldn’t even manage the simplest of tasks. With some effort, she tried not to think about how Lucas’s fingertips had felt against her skin.
It couldn’t matter. Nothing could matter except succeeding. Moving on. Moving up. Learning. And getting good at being alone.
A mere two hours into the day, Lucas looked up to see that Genevieve was soaked to the skin. She was a total mess.
A beautiful mess, he corrected, then frowned at the thought. She was washing walls and water was sluicing down her arms, slicking away the layers of dirt she’d accumulated dusting and sweeping. The moisture turned her creamy skin shiny and damp and then sloshed onto her pale blue blouse, making it cling to her body.
But she wasn’t complaining.
A sliver of admiration slipped through him followed by something else. Something hot when he stared at that damp fabric encasing her slender form.
Knock it off, McDowell. She’s your employee. Your very temporary employee. And off-limits. In all ways.
Stifling a growl, Lucas threw down the cloth he was using to wash windows and went into the closet, where he had stashed a few changes of clothing. Removing a faded chambray shirt from a hanger, he walked over to
Genevieve. “You might want this. And … you probably don’t need to use that much water.”
She looked up at him through dazed eyes. Tired eyes. He realized that she’d been working like a dog since she arrived two hours ago. When she looked at the shirt and then glanced down at her chest, he could see the jolt of embarrassment rip through her. That creamy skin turned almost as rosy as her hair.
“I—thank you. Yes, less water. I’ll remember that,” she said as she hastily reached out, took the shirt and slipped into it. It was miles too big for her. Baggy. Good.
“Time for a break,” he said.
“No, I … I’m fine. I need to get this done. We’re on a tight schedule, right?”
“We are. But even bosses need breathers. Thomas and Jorge will be here any minute. They’ll need us to give them orders, to guide them. A boss that looks beat-up doesn’t instill confidence in the employees.” Which was true but sounded like a made-up excuse. Still, she gave him a tentative nod. She stopped long enough to have a drink of water and rest for a minute. Then she went back to her wall-washing.
When Thomas and Jorge showed up, Lucas introduced them. Thomas bowed slightly. “You are … muy bonita, Ms. Patchett,” he said.
Jorge elbowed Thomas in the stomach. “Thomas, Ms. Patchett is our boss. Show some respect. Forgive my brother, Ms. Patchett. This is his first job.”
To Lucas’s surprise, Genevieve laughed. “There’s nothing to forgive, Jorge. This is my—”
Uh-oh, the princess was going to tell Thomas and Jorge this was her first job, wasn’t she? That would be a mistake.
Lucas coughed and glowered at her.
Her eyes widened and she looked at him. A flush climbed from the neck of his shirt to her cheeks. She turned back to Jorge. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Jorge. And Thomas, thank you so much for the compliment. I’m wet and dirty and I appreciate your efforts to make me feel better about that. I look forward to working with both of you.” Wiping her palm on her pants, she held out her hand. The pink polish that had graced her nails this morning was chipped and her nails were ragged, but Thomas took her hand and bowed over it as if she were royalty. Jorge gave her a big smile and did the same.
Lucas had met the men before. He’d hired them, and Jorge had worked on a previous job. Now he said hello. and waited for his project manager to make the next move. When she said nothing, he glanced her way.
Genevieve stared him directly in the eyes, that pink glow growing rosier. Then she raised her chin and cleared her throat. “Lucas and I have been concentrating on cleaning the living room and entranceway. Thomas, why don’t you work on the kitchen, and Jorge, take the family room. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.”
“I have a question. Will there be plaster work required? I have some experience in that area, but Thomas has none. If there’s a lot of it to handle, we might need help.”
A brief look of panic sprang into Genevieve’s eyes. Lucas inwardly cursed, then opened his mouth to bail her out. But she was shaking her head. “I’m not sure yet. Let me get back to you on that. For now, let’s just concentrate on getting rid of all the dirt.”
The two men nodded, then wandered off. When they had gone, Lucas turned to her. “Good save.”
She stared up at him with big eyes. “It was all I could think of. I don’t know anything about plaster work.”
“You know what a smooth wall looks like. Jorge knows enough to handle any problem areas. There are a few but not much. I’ll take you on a tour. We’ll discuss what basic repair needs to be done. I should have done that already.” Except a part of him had needed to see how “the debutante” handled the tough, dirty stuff. To his surprise, she was handling it. Not with any finesse, but with determination.
“Let’s go,” he said.
He led her through the rooms, pointing out problem areas, the general plan for cleanup, repair and renovation and the big picture. “When we’re done, each woman will need her own private space but there needs to be plenty of flow and room for interaction.