Page 31 of On His Terms

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Page 31 of On His Terms

She shuddered. “Warning heeded.”

“Ready?” Done with the conversation, wanting to put the brooding behind him, he stood and offered his hand. “This time, follow me. Stay back about two feet. No more. No less.”

Though she didn’t reply, she didn’t protest. He knew his behavior kept her off-balance, and that was his intention.

He walked her to her car and waited while she programmed his address, that was near Golden, into her navigation system. He intended to drive so that she could follow, but he would expect her at his house again, and he didn’t want to hear that she’d got lost.

It took less than fifteen minutes to arrive at his home. “I never expected you to live in a place like this,” she said when he opened her door and offered his hand to help her out.

Her comment intrigued him. “Like…?”

“Homey.” She studied the house and him. “I guess I thought you might have a loft or something modern. But this is amazing. How old is it?”

“It’s considered Victorian style, even though it was built after 1940,” he responded. “It was on the market for a steal because of the extensive amount of work it required—electric, plumbing, everything, basically. You may have heard of Master Marcus from the Den. His company oversaw the restoration. It took about eight months, but I think it was a good investment.”

“It’s charming.”

He didn’t add that he’d bought it with the expectation that he and Liz would live out their days together, maybe have children. So she was right that it was homey. Nice garage, yard, plenty of space. Not that he needed it. But he’d been so busy rebuilding after the Bartholemew deal that he hadn’t gotten around to listing it and moving on to someplace better suited to his bachelor lifestyle.

“The grounds are spectacular.” Standing together on the sidewalk, she took in the trees and flowers.

“Landscaping company,” he explained. “I wouldn’t know a pansy from a petunia.”

“You have both.”

“Do I?”

“In those pots.” She pointed.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He led the way to the three steps leading up to the wraparound porch.

As he unlocked the heavy wooden door, she wrapped her arms around her middle, despite the mild evening weather.

“After you.” He held out his hand, palm up, indicating she should precede him.

Inside, she gasped. “Oh my God. It’s even better than I imagined. Do you mind if I have a look around? This would be a perfect location for a charity fundraiser.”

He shook his head, as bemused as he was enchanted. “Do you ever stop?”

“Are you kidding me?” she countered. “This house was designed for entertaining.”

When he’d outlined his vision to Marcus, Alex had envisioned hosting parties for business associates, along with an occasional lifestyle function. That she saw the same potential that he did pleased him. “You can place your purse on the side table.”

“Would you like me to take off my shoes?”

“It’s not necessary. Yet.” But he appreciated her consideration.

He showed her the study, then the great room with its gas fireplace and stone hearth. Next he showed her the dining room, then the kitchen.

The largest chunk of his funds had been spent on this part of the house, ripping down walls, opening the space, adding a glassed-in breakfast nook. Since he didn’t eat at home much, he’d taken Marcus’s word that the appliances were a chef’s dream.

“I love the combination of classic and contemporary throughout the whole place,” she said, running her fingers over the marble counters. “It really works. Seriously, Sir, you have to let me plan a party here.”

Alex enjoyed her enthusiasm. What he wouldn’t have given for Liz to have fallen in love with the house like Chelsea seemed to. “There’s a media center downstairs,” he said. “And the bedrooms are upstairs.”

As if she were a guest rather than a sub who’d be screaming within half an hour, he gave her a tour of the upper story, including the guest room, home gym, and his suite.

“You weren’t kidding about the hook in the footboard of your bed.” As she stared at it, she rubbed her forearms.




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