Home > Cinderella & the CEO (Kings of California #7)(11)

Cinderella & the CEO (Kings of California #7)(11)
Author: Maureen Child

“Good.” Ivy interrupted before either man could speak again. She appreciated her grandfather’s support, but she was the one who’d taken out the loan It was her responsibility to pay it off. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks to make that payment, Steve. You can count on it.”

When she stood up, so did the bank manager. He held out one hand across his desk and Ivy took it in hers. Mike nodded at him, and as they left, Steve said, “You know I only wish you the best, Ivy.”

“I know that,” she assured him and didn’t speak again until she and Mike were in the main room of the bank.

The old building shone like a well cared for jewel. Wood walls were polished and the windows and floor gleamed from careful cleaning. Three or four people were lined up waiting for the tellers. Even a whisper carried in the room, since the high ceilings acted like an echo chamber or something. So Ivy was very quiet as she told her grandfather, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

He slung one arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the front door. “I know you do, Ivy girl. I just want it all to go well, is all.”

“It will. I promise.”

As they stepped outside, Ivy took a deep breath and made a solemn, silent vow. She would make the balloon payment, then finish paying off the loan. She’d keep her farm, her family’s legacy and once this loan was paid off, she’d never again take such a high-risk gamble.

Three days later, Tanner was no closer to solving the problems with the game. He blamed it on Ivy, of course. The woman was everywhere. And even when she wasn’t actually in the house, her scent lingered, the thoughtful touches she’d left in her wake remained.

The fresh flowers she brought in and arranged in vases and pitchers to leave all over the house. The sandwiches she made and left wrapped for him in the refrigerator. The fresh fruit that he’d become accustomed to snacking on when he wandered through the empty rooms searching for inspiration.

Everywhere he looked, Ivy was there.

He should be trying to find a way to get rid of her, he knew. Instead, he’d spent most of his time wondering when she would be back. A dangerous situation but one he didn’t seem to be able to avoid. Thoughts of her stayed with him long after she was gone.

Even the Christmas tree farm seemed different lately. He’d noticed that the volume on the damn carols had been cut way back—a fact for which he was grateful. Now the incessant music was no more than a background hum of irritation rather than the overpowering aggravation he was used to. Though he was curious as to why they were suddenly being so accommodating.

He looked out the window at the tree farm and the late afternoon sun speared into his eyes. That was another thing. He’d been waking up earlier since Ivy had been coming around. The only explanation he could come up with for the switch in his sleeping pattern was that his dreams were so full of her, his subconscious was waking him early so that he had more time with her.

Not that he was making use of that extra time. No, he was determined to keep his distance from the woman. She was clever and funny and sexy enough to make him want to grab hold of her every time she entered a room. But the fact was, he wasn’t going to risk a brief fling with a woman who had permanent practically stenciled on her forehead.

Ivy was white picket fences and children at her knee.

Tanner was a solitary man and he liked it that way.

Never the twain would meet.

“Great. Now you’re getting poetic.” He turned from the window, walked to his desk and sat down. Glaring at the computer screen where his muscle-bound warrior knight stood glaring back at him, Tanner muttered, “Work. Damn it, keep your mind on the damn game and get it done.”

This was the solution that had seen him through his life. As soon as he was old enough, Tanner had laid out a pattern for how he wanted his life to be. Orderly. Might seem boring to others, but for him, there was peace in rules. His childhood had been barely restrained chaos with a mother who drifted from one adventure to the next, always dragging her reluctant son behind her.

He’d long ago decided that his life would be different. It would be steady. Controlled. Organized. There was no room for chaos when structure ruled the situation. And his main rule was that when it was time for work, nothing else intruded.

Tanner had never had trouble with that self-imposed imperative until Ivy Holloway had come into his life. Now, he was forced to struggle to keep his mind on what used to be the most important thing in his life. His company. His designs. His future.

Shaking his head, he picked up a pen and tapped it against the sketch pad in front of him. He focused on the image of the knight on his computer screen, standing in a barren field of rocks and dead grass, the body of an evil troll at his feet.

“If the knight uses the enchanted sword against the troll, then there has to be a consequence,” Tanner muttered, glaring at the knight as if this problem were all the character’s fault.

When the truth was, Tanner’s focus was still shattered. It seemed thoughts of Ivy were never far away no matter how much he fought them. Hell, how could he keep his mind on the problems faced by his game’s hero when he knew Ivy Holloway was just downstairs?

He shoved one hand through his hair. One woman shouldn’t have this kind of effect on a man. For God’s sake, less than a week ago, he hadn’t even known she existed.

Gritting his teeth, Tanner told himself that he might finally end up firing Mitchell over this all too alluring housekeeper.

“Troll,” he muttered. “Keep your mind on the damn dead troll.”

“I’m guessing there aren’t many people in the world who get to say that during an ordinary work day.”

He spun around to face the bane of his recent existence. She stood in the open doorway to his office, one hand resting lightly atop a vacuum cleaner. Her jeans were faded and her dark red T-shirt clung to her br**sts and narrow waist in a way that made a man want to define those curves with his own hands. She was a temptation, pure and simple. And he was losing the battle to stay indifferent.

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

She grinned and that dimple he so looked forward to seeing appeared in her cheek. “That was the deal, remember? Quiet as a mouse. Not disturbing you.”

“Right. Yeah, I know.” He frowned at the vacuum. “Judging by that, you’re about to disturb me though, right?”

She patted the upright, pale blue appliance. “I sure am. So I thought I’d warn you first. Tell you to close your door against the noise.”

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