Dream of Me: A Sweet Contemporary Romance Page 2

  Aubrey ascended the wooden staircase leading to the deck just as the back door from the house flew open. Corbin came striding out, his face expressionless. He halted at the top of the stairs, his fingers drumming on the banister.

  As she came abreast of him, he asked, “Had a nice walk?”

  “Yes, thank you, I did.”

  “If it’s not too much to ask, let either Paul or me know something of your plans. I understand you’re used to coming and going as you please, but it makes things easier if we don’t waste time searching for you every time you feel the urge to leave the house.”

  Aubrey met the bleakness of his eyes with a slight smile. “I’m sorry; I didn’t think about that.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He brushed past her, and a few minutes later she heard an engine start.

  As the black SUV backed out of the driveway, Aubrey entered the house and made her way to her room. “Phoebe Sommers, you have a lot to answer for,” she muttered under her breath. Personable! Yeah, right. Corbin was about as personable as a badger. She kicked off her shoes and stalked into the bathroom. Two weeks! That was how long she’d give this job. If things didn’t improve by then, she didn’t care what Phoebe said, she was moving on.

  A few minutes later, she was lowering herself into the oversized garden tub. The long soak in the warm water eased her tired muscles and improved her grumpy mood. Since she had no intention of leaving her room again that night, she put on a nightgown and sat down in front of the mirror. As she absently unbraided her hair, a faraway look appeared in her eyes. The reflection in the mirror changed to a little girl with pig tails barely able to reach the top of her mother’s dressing table.

  The assortment of brushes, makeup and perfume bottles arranged on the dark surface were a constant temptation. Would she ever be old enough to use such things? Her sister was already allowed to add color to her eyes and lips. Aubrey’s tiny hands reached to open a bottle of nail polish. Did she dare put it on?

  She slowly twisted the cap and stared at the pink polish dripping off the feathery brush. The sound of a slamming door and of her mother’s voice sent a wave of panic through her. She wasn’t supposed to be in here. In the rush to escape, she hurriedly tried to fit the brush back into its tiny opening. By this time, her fingers were shaking so badly she knocked the bottle off the table. She watched in horror as a huge blob of pink appeared on the white carpeting.

  That little adventure had resulted in her being grounded for two weeks. It was sad to think that the pink stain remained, but her mother would never again sit at the dressing table.

  * * * *

  Corbin scowled as he started up the stairs. When would he learn to avoid blind dates? The evening hadn’t been a total disaster, but neither could it be called a success. If he couldn’t manage to find a woman on his own, he needed to stay home.

  He smiled mockingly. Home – his place of sanctuary – was no more. She was here. Why had he allowed Phoebe to saddle him with one of her projects? What use did he have for someone with no practical experience? The worst part of it was he couldn’t get rid of her. How could he fire the sister of the woman who’d opened up so many opportunities for him?

  Corbin knocked more loudly than he intended on Aubrey’s door. He heard the sound of something hitting the floor followed by muttering. What was she doing in there?

  “Just a minute,” her voice called out.

  He rolled his eyes and tried to contain his impatience. The sudden opening of the door took him by surprise. His eyes noted the hastily tied robe as well as the tiny feet with their pink-tinted nails peeking out from beneath the hem.

  “Kind of early to be going to bed, isn’t it?”

  Aubrey’s brows went up. “Not for me. I’m more of a morning person.”

  “Well, what I have to say won’t keep you from your beauty sleep long. I forgot to tell you to print out what you finished today so I could look over it tonight. I won’t always ask you to do it that way, but sometimes I want to read a hardcopy instead of on my laptop.”

  “I can do it now; it will only take a few minutes.”

  Corbin’s glance dropped to her hair, which released from its daytime braid, fell in soft waves almost to her waist. In the light of the lamp, it glowed like a satiny sable cape against the lightness of her robe. Something suspiciously like attraction tugged at his senses. “Just get it started: I’ll do the rest. I do most of my writing at night, and I don’t like interruptions.”

  Aubrey nodded. “My father was the same way. He said he could think better during those hours. Of course, it wasn’t so great for the rest of us. He tended to forget everyone else in the house was trying to sleep. My bedroom was over his office so I was his usual victim.”

  An odd look passed over Corbin’s handsome features. “I hate to tell you this, but you’re in the same predicament here.”

  “Really? Well, I doubt you’re as noisy as my father.”

  “You’ll have to find that out for yourself. If all else fails, we can move you to another room.”

  “I don’t want to do that. I love this room.”

  Corbin shrugged. “I left the décor up to Paul; it appears he surpassed your expectations. Frankly, it reminds me of a little girl’s room.”

  “Then it’s fortunate that you won’t be spending a lot of time in here,” she pointed out.

  His fascinating eyes locked onto her face. “There was never any doubt about that.” He turned to go, not bothering to see whether she followed.

  Aubrey gritted her teeth, tempted to stay where she was and let him figure out where everything was himself. It would serve him right. A few seconds consideration told her that he was unlikely to have any success which meant he’d be back. With an impatient gesture, she stuffed her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers and hurried after him.

  The dimness of the stairway was her downfall – literally. She didn’t realize Corbin had stopped at the bottom of the stairs until she ran into him. It was similar to hitting a brick wall except more embarrassing.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  Something close to a smile crossed his lips. “I should be asking that.”

  Her smile was rueful. “You’re right. I think I broke my shoulder.”

  He motioned her to go in front of him. “After you.”

  They made it to his office without further mishap. She started the printer and checked the first few pages.

  “I can handle it from here. Thanks, Aubrey.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. At his nod, she headed to the door. “Okay, then, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As he watched her walk away, he felt again the irritation of having his hand forced. How had he let Phoebe talk him into what must rank as the most ill-advised hire of his career? Then he remembered why Aubrey had needed to get away. With a mixture of guilt and vexation, he assembled the papers into a neat pile and went to sit at his desk.

  * * * *

  For reasons of his own, Corbin left Aubrey alone to see how she would manage. Though slower than her predecessor, he could find no fault with her work. She didn’t nag him with endless questions, nor did she seek his company. In fact, she showed as little interest in him as he felt in her. He should have been satisfied; things could have been much worse. The only real problem was Corbin himself: every time he saw Aubrey, he remembered how lovely she looked standing in her bedroom.

  The following afternoon Phoebe called him. Her timing couldn’t have been better. He’d just sent Aubrey to deliver a proposal. This was the perfect opportunity to get a little payback. With a faint smile, he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk.

  “You’re fortunate to be separated from me by several states,” he offered in his usual quiet tone.

  “Give Aubrey time; she’ll grow on you.”

  “She probably won’t be here long enough to have any effect on me at all.”

  “Have you told her that?” Phoebe asked.

  Co
rbin laughed shortly. “I don’t have to; I think this is a classic case of mutual dislike.”

  “That surprises me. You have enough charm to make any female like you.”

  “I must not want Aubrey to like me.”

  Phoebe sighed loudly. “You’re impossible, you know that? Are you trying to make her leave?”

  “Not consciously. I want peace, Phoebe. That’s not possible with a woman in the house.”

  “Stop with that nonsense and give her a chance. She’s not like most women her age.”

  Again he laughed. “Well, she’s certainly not like you.”

  “Considering how much you and I argue, that’s something in her favor.”

  When he put down the phone a few minutes later, he realized that nothing in that conversation had been reassuring. Grabbing a roll of blueprints, he moved to the drafting table. He vaguely registered the sound of the front door closing. Aubrey had returned. Hopefully, she remembered this was Paul’s night off and had planned accordingly.

  He wasn’t prepared for her sudden entry into his office just seconds later. Her steps came to an abrupt halt as did the song she’d been humming under her breath.

  “I thought you were gone,” she admitted.

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Don’t you usually take a walk at this time?”

  The fact that he’d studied her movements amused her. She wasn’t the only one playing the ‘trying to avoid someone’ game. “I can come back later.”

  “And interrupt me again? You’re already in the room; you might as well stay.”

  Not liking the challenging look in his eyes, she shrugged and went to sit at her desk. If he could put up with her, she could certainly put up with him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Corbin watched her flip through the contents of a thick binder. He knew it contained the details of a renovation he’d done last year. Was she actually interested in what he did? The thought gave him more satisfaction than it should have. Biting his lip, he returned his attention to the blueprints. He had a deadline to meet.

  For a time, the only sound in the room was the rustle of paper and the occasional creak of a chair. Corbin should have been able to work in such quiet conditions. The fact that he couldn’t was exasperating.

  Why did his glance keep wandering in Aubrey’s direction? It was too often to be labeled coincidence, but he refused to call it anything else. He wasn’t ready to admit to something as obvious as interest. A more likely and much more acceptable explanation was the strangeness of having someone new with him. He was accustomed to Jason, who’d worked with him for years. It would take time to get used to Aubrey and the scent of strawberries that surrounded her like an invisible cloud. Jason had never smelled like strawberries.

  After a long interval during which he grew more and more frustrated, he heard the welcoming sounds of her departure. He acknowledged her parting words with an absent nod that belied the fact that he’d been aware of her every move.

  Once he was alone again, Corbin leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d been sitting there for over an hour and had nothing to show for it. What was it about Aubrey that disturbed him? She was pretty, but no more so than many other women he knew. She wasn’t overly talkative, and she hadn’t yet made the mistake of trying to flirt with him. Why couldn’t he ignore her? There had to be a reason she got under his skin and for his own peace of mind, he was going to find it.

  * * * *

  Aubrey’s faith in her ability to evade Corbin had led her into trouble tonight. He was gone so often in the evening that she hadn’t bothered to make sure his SUV was in the garage. She walked blindly into the office and had to make the best of it. She forced herself to stay because she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she didn’t like being around him.

  This meant she couldn’t do any ‘real’ work. She’d learned the hard way that things went terribly wrong when he was there to see it. And as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t lay all the blame for this irrational attitude on Corbin. He wasn’t nearly as distant as he’d been at first. So why did she still feel so uneasy in his presence?

  In the safety of her room, away from his aura of cool indifference, she took a deep breath. It was over now – she could finally unwind. A long bath would complete the cure. Then she could lose herself in a book, and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep.

  Hours later, she fought her way to consciousness, the terror of yet another nightmare bathing her in a layer of perspiration. Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness of the room, finally settling on the mellow light of the nightstand clock.

  Feeling uncomfortably warm, she freed her legs from the tangled duvet and disappeared into the bathroom to bathe her face. The cool water worked wonders, but the idea of returning to bed had never felt so unwelcome. With the comforting thought that her two housemates were safely in their rooms, she made her way to the kitchen and began fixing a cup of hot tea.

  “Do you make a habit of this?”

  Aubrey jumped at the sound of the quiet words, just managing to hold on to the cup in her hand. The furious glare she gave Corbin brought a faint smile to his face. “You scared the life out of me.”

  He leaned negligently against the doorframe. “I did mention that I work at night.”

  “I know that, but I didn’t hear anything. You don’t make much noise for so large a person.”

  “The same can’t be said for you. You were making enough noise to wake the dead. I got the impression you wanted company.”

  “Whose company? Yours?” she asked with a regrettable lack of tact.

  “Who else? Paul’s old enough to be your father.”

  Aubrey gazed at him in amazement. What was he saying? That she was attracted to him? “You overrate your attractions and my interest. I wasn’t hoping for you or anyone else to keep me company. I was thirsty.” She swung around to leave, but his next words stopped her.

  “Not so fast. How old are you anyway?”

  “Didn’t you ask Phoebe anything about me?” she asked flippantly.

  Corbin laughed softly. “Don’t get me started on that. Are you going to answer my question?”

  “Sure, I’m twenty-one.”

  “You look younger.”

  “I know, but fortunately it doesn’t affect my ability to type.”

  “I don’t think anything could make you slower at that,” he said dryly. When she would have spoken, he held up his hand. “Since we’ve established the fact that I do work at night, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your trips downstairs to a minimum.”

  He had to be the most antisocial person she’d ever met. “No problem. I’ll just take a bottle of water and keep it in my room.” This remark produced an appreciative grin. Maybe he had a sense of humor after all.

  “There’s no need for that. If you go past the turn at the end of the hallway upstairs, there’s a butler’s pantry that Paul keeps stocked with everything you can think of. Feel free to use it.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  “Do you often have trouble sleeping?” he asked after a moment.

  “Sometimes, but it’s getting better.”

  He felt a stirring of sympathy. It couldn’t be easy to deal with losing both parents so tragically. “These things take time. Enjoy your tea; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Corbin didn’t immediately return to his desk; instead, he sauntered over to the window. As he looked out into the blackness of the night, he recalled Aubrey’s words about him having a high opinion of himself. Her attitude didn’t bother him at all. Her dislike was as effective as indifference and at this point, either one would ensure this situation didn’t get out of hand.

  * * * *

  Aubrey waited for Corbin’s appearance at breakfast, hoping their nocturnal meeting would be long forgotten. He came in wearing an old pair of jeans, t-shirt and work boots.

  “I read through the three articles for Renovation Style last night; that’s what I was doing when I heard the r
acket in the kitchen.” He ignored her quick denial. “Anyway, I added material to all of them. I left the packet of changes on your desk. Don’t delete the original articles; I need them for something else. Also, I got two requests for proposals in the mail today. They’re similar to the ones I did on Sea Turtle Lane. You’ll find everything labeled in the filing cabinet behind my desk. See what you can put together. I know you won’t catch everything, but it will give you an idea of what goes into a proposal. If you have any questions, text me. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day. I’ve got a crew starting on a row of rental cottages.”

  “Will I get to see them?” she asked hopefully.

  “The crew or the cottages?” he asked with a laugh.

  “The cottages, of course. I’d like to get a better idea of what you do.”

  “I’ll give you the grand tour once things aren’t so messy.”

  “That would be great.”

  He looked amused by her enthusiasm, but didn’t say anything. Grabbing the newspaper by his plate, he ate with his usual speed and got up to leave. Just as he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry for scaring you last night.”

  Was he actually apologizing? “I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

  Corbin smiled faintly. “It was one of the more memorable interruptions I’ve had.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I’ve already said too much. See you later.”

  Aubrey was finishing her toast when she heard the sound of an engine start outside. Paul came through the open doorway carrying the coffee pot.

  “Need a refill?” he asked.

  She held out her cup. “Yes, please.”

  “Do you need anything from the store? I’m making a trip today.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like some yogurt and a bag of bagels.”

  “No problem.”

  “Paul, what does Corbin do when he’s at the work site?”

  “He makes sure they don’t deviate from the blueprints.”

  Aubrey poured cream into her coffee. “So he doesn’t do any of the actual work?”