Defy the World Tomatoes (5 page)

Startled by the unexpected invitation, Darcy hauled herself back to reality. “You realize you’re trashing my life, don’t you?”

Griffin discounted her complaint. “That’s business, it’s not personal. Besides, I’m sick of eating alone.”

Darcy ran her hands down her dusty overalls. “Sorry, but I’m a mess.”

“That’s easily solved. I’ve half a dozen bathrooms. Choose one and shower, or soak in the tub, and I’ll lend you a robe.”

Darcy imagined a black silk robe and, custom-tailored for his impressive size, it would conveniently fall open to provide a provocative glimpse of her petite figure. Embarrassed just thinking about it, she straightened and rested her hand on her hip.

“Does that line actually work for you?”

“What? You’ve lost me.”

“You know damn well what I mean.” Darcy didn’t even try to mimic his accent, but she succeeded in producing a seductive tone. “Come on in, I’ll broil you a steak. Just slip into my robe and get comfortable.”

Griffin raked his hand through his hair. “Granted, you’d not be the first woman to wear my robe, but all I’m talking about here is dinner.”

“How flattering.”

“Flattery had nothing to do with it,” Griffin insisted.

His glance had turned to ice, and Darcy wasn’t even tempted to stay. “Mr. Moore, you are drop-dead gorgeous, but we’re on very dangerous ground here, and I’m going to leave before one of us says something she’ll regret.”

She stepped to the backdoor and rested her hand on the doorknob. “Let’s talk about the grounds tomorrow morning. How’s nine o’clock for you? If you still want me to handle the job, that is.”

Griffin frowned slightly. “Has no one ever told you that you’re drop-dead gorgeous too?”

“Oh, please. On a good day, I’m cute, nothing more.”

Griffin closed the space between them and dropped his voice to a haunting whisper. “Beauty, Darcy, is in the eye of the beholder.”

Darcy watched him lean down and, even knowing what he meant to do, she couldn’t make her feet carry her out the door. He placed his fingertips under her chin to tilt her face up to his and then kissed her so gently, so softly, so sweetly, that it took her breath away.

It was all she could do not to grab hold of his sweatshirt and yank him back down to her level. “I’m out of here,” she cried, and she forced herself right on out the door. She hurried around to the side of the house where she’d parked her truck, but Griffin was right on her heels.

The motion-sensitive exterior lighting blinked on, and she was in no danger of tripping or becoming lost. “I can find my way.”

“I know, but I’m coming with you anyway. A gentleman always escorts a lady to her car.”

He might have excellent manners, but Darcy wondered if anyone ever dared to tell him what to do. As they passed by the four-car garage, she was surprised to find a Land Rover parked outside.

“I thought you’d drive a Porsche,” she shot over her shoulder.

“I got over fast cars in my twenties.”

“I’m sorry I missed that.” Darcy nearly leapt into her truck, then had to fish her keys from her pocket.

“Wait a minute. I owe you some money.”

“I’ll pick it up in the morning. Good-night.”

Griffin shook his head as she drove away, then he began to laugh. Darcy had such lovely, delicate features, and a shapely if petite figure, but clearly she’d picked the right name for her business.

It’d been a long while since a defiant woman had presented him with a challenge and, relishing the prospect, he returned to his kitchen bent on eating his steak rare.

Chapter Three

Christy Joy looked up from a stack of invoices to greet Darcy. “Good morning. I thought you’d be back last night before closing.”

“So did I, but I was so dirty I just went on home.” Dressed in pale blue overalls appliquéd with sweet peas and a pink T-shirt, Darcy looked sparkling clean, now.

“I assume Mr. Moore was thrilled with your work.”

“Thrilled might be an exaggeration. He did seem pleased, though. I’ll pick up the final payment this morning. There’s a lot of work to be done up there. It’ll be like landscaping a small hotel, but I’m not certain the money will be worth it.”

Darcy’s downcast expression puzzled Christy Joy. “Need I remind you that we can’t afford to be choosy?”

“That’s what Griffin said, but I don’t like being around him.”

“Look, if his behavior is out of line
—
”

“No, he’s exceedingly polite.” Darcy regarded Christy Joy as her closest friend, but she was reluctant to confide that Griffin gave her that same dizzying, foot-tingling feeling she got standing atop a tall building and looking down at the tiny ant-sized people below. It was the primal fear of falling, and a gut-wrenching warning that falling for him posed as terrible a threat.

“Then what’s the matter? If you cultivated his friendship, you might be able to influence him to put his recording studio elsewhere.”

“Prostitute myself, is that what you mean? Why don’t you sleep with him?”

“Darcy! What’s gotten into you? You know I’ve got Twink to consider. If Lyle thought I was sleeping around, he’d sue me for sole custody. I won’t take that risk.”

Darcy propped her elbow on the counter. “Is that your only reason?”

Christy Joy smiled as though she were actually considering an affair with the handsome man. “I’ll bet he’s got great hands, but no, I prefer heart to technique. From what little I’ve seen of Griffin Moore, he appears to confine his emotion to the piano. Still, it can’t hurt to be nice to him.”

The thought wasn’t lost on Darcy. In fact, she’d gotten damn little sleep because of it. “It works both ways, though. He might flirt with me in hopes of winning me over to his side.”

Christy Joy laughed. “When a man looks that good, I doubt he bothers to flirt.”

Unable to dispute that insightful observation, Darcy grabbed her clipboard. “Wish me luck.”

“You know I do,” Christy Joy called after her. “Give my love to Griffin.”

Even with luck, Darcy felt as though she’d already gotten herself in too deep, and as she drove up Ridgecrest, she wished Griffin were a dairy farmer who didn’t mind getting his boots muddy rather than a concert pianist accustomed to being pampered by the doting staffs of exclusive hotels.

He was just bored. That had to be why he’d been coming on to her. Either that, or he came on to anything female, which was an even more distressing thought. She dreaded their next meeting, but as she rolled up his driveway, she found a brand new silver Beamer parked in front of the house.

She checked her watch and, while it was a few minutes to nine, she feared she’d come at a bad time. Maybe the car belonged to Jess Stevens, and he and Griffin were plotting ways to move Defy the World Tomatoes out of their building early. Or the beautiful car could belong to an equally attractive woman who had shown up last night after Darcy had left.

That possibility really rankled, and she used her flower-tipped pen to begin making diagonal slashes along the edge of the worksheet attached to her clipboard. When the front door swung open, she was almost afraid to look, then risked a peek.

The woman was tall, slender, blonde and dressed in a bright red suit with matching stiletto heels. She carried a black leather briefcase and appeared to be furious while Griffin leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded lazily across his chest.

He let her rant uninterrupted and, while Darcy’s window was down, she caught only snatches of the one-sided argument. The irate blonde seemed to be accusing Griffin of disappointing someone, but obviously he wasn’t overly concerned. Embarrassed to be eavesdropping, Darcy slumped down in her seat, but Griffin had already spotted her and waved.

He took his guest’s elbow, walked her around her car, opened the driver’s door and eased her inside. She was still sputtering angrily when she drove away.

Darcy climbed out of her truck and met Griffin in the middle of the wide, circular driveway. “I don’t even want to hear it,” she cautioned.

“It’s quite an interesting story,” Griffin insisted.

“I’m sure it is, but irrelevant. Now, if I describe the plants I want to use, will you recognize any of the names?”

“Probably not, but the camellias have survived since the 1920s, so I’d like to keep them.”

Darcy made that notation on her worksheet. “Fine, we’ll prune them so they’re more attractive.”

“Darcy,” Griffin confided, “that was my former agent Karen Randolph. We parted company because I’ve insisted upon cutting back on my concert schedule. She warned it would ruin my career, to say nothing of what it would do to her income, and threatened I’d probably end up performing on cruise ships or in Las Vegas lounges.”

Darcy was enormously relieved to learn she hadn’t just observed a lovers’ quarrel, but she remained flippant. “Whatever. It really doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course it does. I don’t throw beautiful women out of my house for no reason. Although sometimes, as you well know, they walk out on their own.”

Darcy shot him a harshly disapproving glance, but he wore an expression of such tender concern that she instantly regretted it. The infuriating man continually played on her emotions, and she feared she might soon become powerless to resist.

“Look, I’m wise to you, buddy, so give it up.”

“You’re wise to what?”

Darcy propped her clipboard on her hip. “You’re amusing yourself by distracting me, and you are definitely a distraction. But why don’t you just go on inside and practice scales? I’ll make my sketches on my own. I’ll show them to you when I finish and pick up that payment you owe us.”

Griffin’s glance narrowed menacingly. “This is strictly business. Is that what you mean?”

Darcy knew he couldn’t possibly be that dense. “You just came out of nowhere and
—
”

“No, that’s not true. I’ve been to Monarch Bay a dozen times in the last five years.”

“Be that as it may
—
”

“I like it here,” he continued. “The seaside scenery is spectacular. The people, with few exceptions, are friendly. Best of all, no one has any idea who I am.”

“Is that right?” A fiendish possibility took shape in Darcy’s mind. If he craved anonymity, she would post his address on the Internet.

“There’s something dangerous about your smile,” Griffin observed slyly. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing much,” Darcy nearly purred. “I was just considering how hard Christy Joy and I have worked to attract the very tourists you wish to avoid.”

“Don’t try selling maps to my house. I’m not a rock star, so you’d not make any money.”

“I don’t know. San Francisco is filled with sophisticated symphony patrons. They might all love to join you for afternoon tea.”

Griffin glanced away, but he appeared to be more amused than insulted. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I could probably raise funds for some worthwhile charity hosting tea parties here. I could play a couple of tunes, pass a tray with cute little tea sandwiches and convince everyone I’m a lot of fun to know. Perhaps you could wear a French maid’s outfit and serve the tea.”

“That’ll be the day!” Darcy was tempted to hit him with her clipboard.

Griffin took note of the murderous gleam in her eye and backed away. “I’m only kidding, Darcy, but perhaps I should go work on my scales.”

Darcy was more angry with herself than him. When he turned everything she said to his own advantage, she should have been smart enough to keep her mouth shut. Then again, a glimpse of his smile was almost worth the cost to her pride.

Forcing her mind back to work, she stepped off the front yard and made a note of the dimensions. She also checked out the side yards and then paused on her way to the rear to listen, but the house was silent. It wasn’t until she reached the terrace that she found Griffin seated on the new bench.

She’d gloated upon discovering his desire for privacy created an unsuspected vulnerability, but watching him now, all alone, his thick black hair ruffled by the breeze off the ocean, she lost all interest in harming him. Instead, she sat on the terrace steps and made some quick sketches. When Griffin hadn’t moved by the time she’d finished, she took care to rap lightly on the bench before she joined him.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“No, I was just remembering how delicious my steak was last night. I’m sorry you missed it.”

“I avoid red meat.” She tapped her clipboard to focus his attention on her drawings. “In creating a natural landscape, I combine open spaces with carefully arranged groupings of plants so there’s a variety of colors, shapes and textures that appeals to the eye.”

“Fragrances are important too, aren’t they?”

“Yes, of course, I should have mentioned them. Are you allergic to anything?”

“Poison ivy, like everyone else, but you wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

Darcy was truly amazed by how easily Griffin turned even the most innocuous of subjects into a personal comment. “That would be unethical,” she answered.

Griffin began to chuckle. “I admire a woman with principles. The
Architectural Digest
would like to do a feature on my house. I’d insist that they include the grounds. That would help your business, wouldn’t it?”

Darcy’s heart leapt to her throat. “Are you serious?”

Griffin shrugged. “I’d not tease you about something so important.”

“Well, it would be phenomenal publicity, of course, but I imagine you’d have to purchase some furniture.”

“Yes, I thought of that. A decorator from San Francisco has handled everything thus far, so the color scheme is set, and the kitchen and bathrooms have all been redone. Well, not redone, really. I insisted upon keeping the original art deco tile work in the baths. Would you like to see them?”

“You’re inviting me to tour your bathrooms?”

“That does sound rather odd, doesn’t it? Still, I might be able to convince the
Architectural Digest
to do a feature on art deco tile, and then I’d not have to bother with purchasing more furniture.”

Darcy was unable to tell if he were simply pulling her leg. He appeared to be completely serious, but she still found it difficult to trust anything he said.

“I thought we were talking about landscaping,” she reminded him.

“We are. I like your ideas. Go ahead and prepare your written estimate, and I’ll sign it. Now, let’s go.” He stood and offered his hand.

Darcy ignored the gentlemanly gesture, scooted forward and stood on her own. “If there’s a possibility my work might appear in
Architectural Digest
, then I’m going to go ahead and make watercolor versions of the sketches. Not that I wouldn’t have gone all out for you before, but I’d like to be thoroughly professional.”

“For the magazine’s benefit?”

“For yours, actually,” Darcy explained. “I haven’t had a project this large, and I want to do it right.”

“I’m sure you will. Now, I’ve been sitting here thinking this would be a good place to fly a kite. Do you know where I might buy one?”

Had he mentioned a hot air balloon or a blimp, Darcy couldn’t have been any more surprised. “As a matter of fact, I do. There’s a shop in Monarch Bay called Fun in the Sun that carries big, colorful nylon kites. Most people take advantage of the breeze off the ocean and fly them on the beach, but you could certainly fly one up here. You’d just have to watch your step so that you wouldn’t fall off the bluff.”

“Obviously. Come with me. Let’s go buy a kite.”

“Really, Mr. Moore, I have work to do. The Fun in the Sun is just up the street from Defy the World. They hang windsocks out front. You can’t miss it.”

“You complained about not having time to date. Take off an hour now. You’ll not regret it.”

His sly smile made her wonder just what flying a kite with him would entail. All too easily, she imagined him wrapping himself around her to guide the string. She began to fan herself with her clipboard.

“As you so cleverly informed me yesterday, I can’t afford to turn down commissions. Neither can I afford to neglect the ones I already have. I also need to be down at the nursery pushing cacti.”

“Yes, I noticed you have a remarkably diverse collection. Let’s put some around somewhere. There, you just sold several dozen. Now you can fly kites with me.”

Darcy couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Moore, clearly you’re used to women eagerly accepting your invitations, but I really do have work to do.”

“Another time, then.”

Darcy opened her mouth to tell him not to hold his breath, but he appeared to be so sincerely disappointed, she thought better of it. That he could offer such outrageous invitations and then leave her feeling guilty when she refused confused her completely.