inches from Cassie watching a deep shudder run through her. “You ’ ve got a draft in here,” she called out to Mrs. Higgins.
Busy talking on the phone, Mrs. Higgins didn ’ t respond.
Ethan leaned away from Cassie to let the warmth wash over her body again, yet continued to study her. She appeared so focused, so determined, and so adorable.
His cold soul lit up with a heat he ’ d long yearned for.
* * *
A month passed since Cassie left her home in New York City to accept the job to build her design portfolio. A complete restoration of a Victorian home, not something she could ’ ve passed on. Besides, Mrs. Nash had offered her a ridiculous amount of money. Too many goods came from the job.
She missed home, though. Staying in a house under renovations didn ’ t appeal to her, but the contractors she ’ d hired finished today and she ’ d have the peace she sought. The physical renovations she could do without. Walls re-plastered, paint applied, all the wood in the home, including the hardwood floors, refinished. Now, onto the part she lived for, the reason she got into interior design. Giving a home personality with furniture and accents gave her a high like nothing else.
Mrs. Higgins seemed sweet enough, but if she called her dear once more, she ’ d blow a gasket. Such endearments weren ’ t for her. Granted, she looked younger than her twenty-five years, calling her such things though made her feel like a child. She ’ d worked hard to get here, put in long hours to prove herself capable. Hell, she ’ d moved into the empty house to renovate it while Mrs. Nash stayed in South Carolina. Being treated like an equal was not something she wanted, but demanded .
Mrs. Higgins, approached her. “Mr. Pitts will be along soon with the truck.”
“Wonderful,” she said, happy she wouldn ’ t have to lug all the furniture to the house herself. She scanned the antique shop, pleased with what she saw. “You have some wonderful pieces here.” An aged distressed dresser caught her eye, perfect for the vintage theme.
“Ahh, a beautiful piece I obtained not long ago,” Mrs. Higgins said. “Does the dresser interest you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Mrs. Higgins spun on her heels. “I ’ ll grab a piece of paper and we ’ ll write down what you want so Mr. Pitts and his crew can load them up.” The woman hurried off and Cassie chuckled to herself. Clearly, the store made small sales and Mrs. Higgins ’ eagerness to sell off some of the larger pieces showed in her fast pace. Moments later, the woman returned, clipboard in hand.
Cassie strode around the store to find treasures of all kinds. Her imagination ran wild with the design. “I ’ ll take these two wing back chairs.” Not looking back at Mrs. Higgins, she heard the pen moving against the paper.
“You do realize they don ’ t match?”
“Victoria-themes don ’ t require matching furniture. In fact, the design works better if they don ’ t.”
“If you say so, dear. I love the era, however, don ’ t know much about design,” Mrs. Higgins replied with a shake of her head.
Cassie continued on, choosing items to fill the home. Tables, throws, a couch, pillows, any item she thought would add to the home ’ s beauty. Last week, she ’ d bought a four-poster bed from a furniture store on the other side of town. A near impossible find at an antique shop, along with the outrageous price. Sticking to a modern piece of furniture fit her budget. She needed a place to sleep while staying at the house, so finding a bed had been her top priority the moment she arrived.
Not fifteen minutes later, Cassie stopped at a gorgeous chaise lounge. Fitted with crimson velvet, the fabric looked rich against the dark wood edging.
“Ahh, a real treasure,” Mrs. Higgins admired.
Cassie wanted to agree, although her mouth wouldn ’ t function. A cold wave washed over her, freezing her in place. Not a draft, but something made her stop.
The piece of
Busy talking on the phone, Mrs. Higgins didn ’ t respond.
Ethan leaned away from Cassie to let the warmth wash over her body again, yet continued to study her. She appeared so focused, so determined, and so adorable.
His cold soul lit up with a heat he ’ d long yearned for.
* * *
A month passed since Cassie left her home in New York City to accept the job to build her design portfolio. A complete restoration of a Victorian home, not something she could ’ ve passed on. Besides, Mrs. Nash had offered her a ridiculous amount of money. Too many goods came from the job.
She missed home, though. Staying in a house under renovations didn ’ t appeal to her, but the contractors she ’ d hired finished today and she ’ d have the peace she sought. The physical renovations she could do without. Walls re-plastered, paint applied, all the wood in the home, including the hardwood floors, refinished. Now, onto the part she lived for, the reason she got into interior design. Giving a home personality with furniture and accents gave her a high like nothing else.
Mrs. Higgins seemed sweet enough, but if she called her dear once more, she ’ d blow a gasket. Such endearments weren ’ t for her. Granted, she looked younger than her twenty-five years, calling her such things though made her feel like a child. She ’ d worked hard to get here, put in long hours to prove herself capable. Hell, she ’ d moved into the empty house to renovate it while Mrs. Nash stayed in South Carolina. Being treated like an equal was not something she wanted, but demanded .
Mrs. Higgins, approached her. “Mr. Pitts will be along soon with the truck.”
“Wonderful,” she said, happy she wouldn ’ t have to lug all the furniture to the house herself. She scanned the antique shop, pleased with what she saw. “You have some wonderful pieces here.” An aged distressed dresser caught her eye, perfect for the vintage theme.
“Ahh, a beautiful piece I obtained not long ago,” Mrs. Higgins said. “Does the dresser interest you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Mrs. Higgins spun on her heels. “I ’ ll grab a piece of paper and we ’ ll write down what you want so Mr. Pitts and his crew can load them up.” The woman hurried off and Cassie chuckled to herself. Clearly, the store made small sales and Mrs. Higgins ’ eagerness to sell off some of the larger pieces showed in her fast pace. Moments later, the woman returned, clipboard in hand.
Cassie strode around the store to find treasures of all kinds. Her imagination ran wild with the design. “I ’ ll take these two wing back chairs.” Not looking back at Mrs. Higgins, she heard the pen moving against the paper.
“You do realize they don ’ t match?”
“Victoria-themes don ’ t require matching furniture. In fact, the design works better if they don ’ t.”
“If you say so, dear. I love the era, however, don ’ t know much about design,” Mrs. Higgins replied with a shake of her head.
Cassie continued on, choosing items to fill the home. Tables, throws, a couch, pillows, any item she thought would add to the home ’ s beauty. Last week, she ’ d bought a four-poster bed from a furniture store on the other side of town. A near impossible find at an antique shop, along with the outrageous price. Sticking to a modern piece of furniture fit her budget. She needed a place to sleep while staying at the house, so finding a bed had been her top priority the moment she arrived.
Not fifteen minutes later, Cassie stopped at a gorgeous chaise lounge. Fitted with crimson velvet, the fabric looked rich against the dark wood edging.
“Ahh, a real treasure,” Mrs. Higgins admired.
Cassie wanted to agree, although her mouth wouldn ’ t function. A cold wave washed over her, freezing her in place. Not a draft, but something made her stop.
The piece of
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