“So what were you and Mark talking about?” he asked.
She looked away from him. So that was why he’d run out to talk to her. Not to see how she was doing or flatter her ego. To ask about Mark. “He was warning me away from you.”
“Really?” he asked, his full attention now on her.
“Yep. He suspects you were the reason the Donald Hunt deal fell through.”
He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “He told you about Hunt? Did he normally mention client names to you?”
She shook her head. “Never. He was adamant about client privacy when we were together.”
“So he must really want you to stay away from me then.”
“Be careful with him. He obviously already suspects something. If he’s as devious as you say, I’m sure he isn’t afraid to play dirty.”
Simon raised a brow and looked her over. “Are you worried about me?”
“I’m a worrier in general. It’s in my nature.” A breeze ripped through the trees around them, rustling a few leaves free, and sent a shiver through her.
“Shit,” muttered Simon as he pulled his jacket off. “Here.” He set it over her shoulders.
As his warmth enveloped her, she let her eyes drift shut. “It will probably look better if I’m wearing your jacket,” she murmured.
“And you won’t freeze to death,” he said.
“It’s June in the Hamptons. I don’t think freezing to death is likely.”
She wrapped the fabric tightly around her, enjoying the protection from the wind way too much. “I’m probably going to get it all wrinkled,” she admitted.
“I can get it pressed later.” He didn’t seem all too concerned.
Once again silence fell over them and she ran through possible conversation topics. She had to constantly remind herself that they were working together. This wasn’t some close friend who she could joke with about the various figurative, and one literal, fires that had been put out that day. She couldn’t tell him how cute Princess had been as she bit at the waves during her four a.m. walk.
“A few people told me that you’d said some very complimentary things about my work tonight. I might be getting a few new clients, thanks to you,” she said.
He shrugged. “Anyone there tonight knows that you’re good at what you do. It’s not like I had to say much. Your work speaks for itself.”
She beamed up at him. “You really think everyone had fun tonight? I mean, everyone told me they enjoyed it, but it’s always nice to hear from someone else.”
“Fishing for compliments now?” he asked.
“Honest feedback.”
He stopped and stared down at her. “No lies. You’re the best at what you do. Anyone can see it.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she met his serious gaze. “Don’t do this, Simon.”
His brow furrowed. “Do what?”
She took a step back. “Act like this is real. As though you actually like me.” He reached out for her, but she twisted away.
“I do like you,” he said, following her retreat.
“Do you?” She held her ground now and looked up at him. “Or am I just convenient?”
“What are you talking about?” he bit out.
Something about his tone and rigid back told her he knew exactly what she meant. “You need something from me. You need me on your side. Wouldn’t it be easier for you if our fake tryst became real?”
He clenched his jaw as he stared down at her. “What do you want me to say?”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes as exhaustion set in. The endless events of the day finally caught up to her.
She didn’t even know what she wanted from him. “I want…I mean, listen. I admit that I enjoy being with you, and I don’t think anyone in their right mind wouldn’t find you insanely attractive. But as long as I know you want something from me, I’m not going to believe anything is genuine.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You think I’d lie to you?”
“I think you’d lie to yourself if it would help you get a job done. I’ll help you. I promise. But don’t turn me into a pawn that you manipulate. We’re partners, Simon. Purely platonic partners.”
“You’re wrong.” His dark eyes met hers and the intensity of his gaze pulled her in like a trap. “I want you, Grace. And that has nothing to do with DuFord, or your company.”
For a brief second, she let herself believe his words. That this all-powerful, all-knowing sorcerer somehow wanted her for her. Because he enjoyed her company and liked what he saw. But in the short time she’d known Simon, he’d never acted without calculated purpose and reason. Every action had a reaction that he’d planned down to a T.
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head and break the spell. “Dean will give me a ride home.” She turned away and refused to look back. “I’ll see you back at the cottage.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“What?” Simon barked into the phone.
“Rough night?” Victoria’s sultry voice didn’t lose any of its impact through the tiny speaker.
“You could say that.” He fell back into the wood rocking chair on the deck that overlooked the steady waves. “How are things on your end? Did you get a chance to look at those projections?” Victoria was silent and Simon sat up straighter. “Victoria. What’s going on?”
“Dad’s in the hospital.” Her tone was as calm and collected as ever, and he couldn’t get a read on her mood.
“Shit,” he whispered. “What happened?”
“I need you back here, Simon. Dad’s heart is failing him faster than anyone ever expected. They put him in a medically induced coma for now, but no one knows if he’s going to come out of it. Terry’s back in town, and I need some more people on my side here.”
Simon clenched the phone in his fist. Richard Green had always had the grand plan to leave his chain of hardware stores to his family. Only he’d never planned on his daughter being the only business-minded one of his two kids. Hence the ineptly titled Green & Sons hardware chain.
“Do you think Terry’s going to cause trouble?” he asked.
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, West. You’re better than that. I know he wants control back. I just don’t know how far he’s willing to go to get it.”
Simon rubbed at his temples as his mind formulated all the ways Terry could use Richard’s rapidly declining health to his advantage. “I’ll be in your office first thing tomorrow morning,” he promised.
“Good,” she said simply. “I’ll see you then.”
The line went dead and he slammed the phone down on the armrest.
“Whoa. What’s going on?”
He twisted in the chair and his jaw dropped. “What are you wearing?” he blurted out. He blinked a few times to clear his head. He didn’t blurt things.
Grace frowned. “What’s wrong with this dress?”
He sucked in a deep breath. Nothing was wrong with the dress. She looked amazing. Her hair falling against the thin, white sundress made her look like an angel. She looked so different from the sleek, sophisticated woman who’d thrown two hundred socialites in a room together and managed them successfully the night before.