Chapter Four

In that first moment that Mia set eyes on Ford, looking gorgeous and strong as he stood in the tower, her heart had leapt as if he were the fairy-tale prince finally coming to wake her from her emotional slumber with his kiss of true love.

By moment two, thank God, she’d remembered the truth of who he really was.

Even so, she couldn’t possibly deny that seeing him again hadn’t just been a punch in the gut. It had been a punch in her heart...and her libido, too.

The week she’d met Ford five years ago had begun as the best of her life, and ended as the worst...all because her every fantasy of love had been kindled, then left to burn out and smoke, her eyes watering long after he’d gone.

Ford walked just a little too close behind her as they made their way down the staircase. Close enough that she could smell his clean, masculine scent, the same one that had driven her wild on those nights when they’d lain skin to skin, their hearts racing from their fierce, wild lovemaking. She had never been able to get close enough to him, and at the time, she’d thought it was just a physical manifestation of how badly she wanted him.

Only after he’d gone had she understood that there had been an actual distance between them, because for every part of her heart that she’d given to him, he’d returned little of his own.

Unfortunately, Mia could feel his warmth again now in the small stairwell, and her skin automatically heated up as if he’d touched her. A bolt of pure, instinctive need shot through her at the thought of his hands on her skin again. Just like the first time she’d seen him on stage, he was in dark pants and a T-shirt that was worn enough for her to see that he was even more muscular, as if he’d grown into his body. With a half-dozen new tattoos snaking up his arms and even along the base of his neck and broad shoulders, it made her mouth water just to look at his incredible masculine beauty.

No matter how much she hated him, the truth was that no one had ever made her feel so good, so alive...or, she harshly reminded herself, so devastated.

Until Ford, Mia had been the heartbreaker. Not because she relished hurting men, but simply because she had never returned any of her boyfriends’ feelings with the same intensity. But after Ford had broken her heart, as much as she hated the thought of being the forlorn woman, it was nearly what she’d become after he left. She’d almost given up everything for him, had almost lost her own identity in the name of love.

Frankly, she still wasn’t sure whom she’d hated more: him for being a bastard, or herself for being so weak. And so stupid.

Although, she reminded herself as they headed back through to the main part of the house, she really shouldn’t be too hard on herself for the past. After all, she’d been only twenty-three the first time she saw Ford on stage in that club downtown, young and full of dreams. The fact was, any woman would have been hard-pressed not to feel special when his eyes had locked with hers in the crowd and he’d sung directly to her. It was only natural that someone as young and idealistic as she had been would have believed the fantasy that she’d be Yoko to his Lennon, that she could be the only woman who mattered when he could have had anyone...and that it would be okay to let her own passions and dreams dissolve into his just because she loved him.

Well, Mia thought as she stopped in the kitchen and slowly turned to face him, she was a hell of a lot smarter this time around. No matter how great a guy was, she would never again lose sight of her own dreams, her own identity, or her career. And she definitely wasn’t going to fall for Ford’s charm, or his good looks, or her memories of how good making love with him had been, or—

Damn it, enough already. He was a client. And she was here to sell him a house. Nothing more.

Reaching into her leather bag with a steady hand, she pulled out a color flyer and handed it to him. “Okay, Rutherford, here are the details on the house.”

He gripped her hand along with the flyer. “You know how I feel about people calling me that.”

He didn’t hide the emotion in his eyes, and she got lost in the dark brown depths for a moment too long. “You’re right,” she replied as she yanked her hand out of his. “Anyone who’s read Rolling Stone knows you don’t like your given name.”

It was a perfect reminder that she’d never been any more important to him than any other groupie he’d slept with, since the reason he hated his full name was just one of the many things he hadn’t cared enough about her to explain.

She’d spat the Rolling Stone comment out in an offhand, albeit bitter, way, but was surprised when he seemed to be warring with himself. Was he finally going to confide in her? Five years too late, but still...

His too-beautiful mouth tightened down right before he said, “That name doesn’t fit me. It never has and it never will.”

She waited for him to say something more, to explain why Rutherford didn’t fit but Ford did, until she realized she was being a fool again.

Nothing. He’d shared precisely the same nothing he’d given her before.

Disappointment came before she could pretend it hadn’t. How many times did she have to learn this lesson?

Ford took everything...and then gave just enough to keep her hooked.

Still, she shouldn’t have been so petty as to use his formal first name when she knew he hated it, even if she didn’t know why. It wasn’t just mean of her, it was sinking to his level. And if there was one thing she absolutely needed to do, it was rise above.

Not fall any deeper.

Mia forced her pride far enough to the side to be able to say, “I apologize. That was unprofessional.”

He looked momentarily surprised by her apology, before moving toward her. “Mia—”

She cut him off as she took a step away from him. “This home has six bedrooms, five and a half baths, an Olympic length pool, a custom-built wine cellar that was featured in Wine Spectator magazine, and, of course, you’ve already found the tower.”

“Alana told me it was where she would go when she wanted to be alone to think.”

“You know Alana?” Her mind immediately swam with visions of just how intimately he likely knew the owner of the house they were standing in.

“She’s my business manager’s sister,” he said, and then clearly reading her mind, added, “And she’s never been anything but a friend.”

Pushing aside the relief, she snapped, “I don’t need a list of everyone you slept with before or after me.” Realizing too late that she was doing a terrible job of remaining cool and unruffled, she said, “Look, Ford, I think you’ll agree that the best way to do this is to keep things strictly professional.”

“No, Mia,” he said in as steady a voice as she’d used on him, “I can’t agree with that.”

Heat—and senselessly desperate desire—shot through her before she could stop it. “If you want me to be your Realtor,” she informed him, “you’re going to have to agree with it.”

His eyes were dark and as mysterious now as they’d always been. “I won’t promise anything about the future, Mia, but for today, I’ll try.”

It wasn’t much of a concession to the rules she was setting up between them, nor anything close to a promise. She shouldn’t have accepted it, should simply have turned and left. Instead, she found it impossible to walk away from him. Telling herself she was just doing her job, she asked, “Have you spent much time in this house apart from the tower?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t we start with the ground floor?” Reminding herself to treat him just as she would any other client, as they moved from the kitchen into the large formal living room, she began to ask the questions she would normally already know the answers to if her client hadn’t insisted on remaining anonymous until the first showing. “Will this be a primary residence or a vacation home?”

They were standing side by side in the elegant room that looked out on the exceptional water views when he answered, “Primary.”

She only barely stopped herself from whirling to face him in surprise, and quickly had to clarify, “But since you’re on the road all the time, I’m assuming you’ll probably use it about as much as you would a vacation home.”

“No,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “I’m not going to tour anymore.”

This time she couldn’t hold back her surprise. “Wait a minute. You aren’t going to tour anymore?” When he shook his head again, she had to ask, “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’ve finally figured out some things are more important than being on the road.” His gaze intensified as he turned from the water to look her in the eyes. “Much more important. So as soon as this tour ends next week, I’m done.”

Keeping her voice scrupulously professional even as she reeled at the thought of Ford giving up the touring that was clearly his life’s blood, she asked, “And how many people will be in full-time residence?”

“Just me, at first. Though I’m hoping it won’t remain like that for too long.”

Odds were, she suddenly decided, this whole home-buying thing had come up because he had a gorgeous—and annoyingly insipid—girlfriend who was dying to play house with him and redecorate down to the last inch of trim along the floorboards of the laundry room. Even though the house and the furnishings that came with it were already perfect as they were.

But what kind of woman would claim to care about Ford and then ask him to give up everything that mattered to him for her?

Telling herself it was none of her business, and that it shouldn’t matter to her what he did with the rest of his life, Mia pointedly didn’t ask any more questions about his personal life as they walked through the rest of the ground-floor rooms. Instead, she pointed out the many features of the beautifully built house. And all the while, she did her very best to ignore the way Ford always seemed to stand a little too close to her, or worse, brush up against her as he went to take a closer look at something.

Finally, they reached the master suite, and Ford’s mouth curved up as he walked over to the large bed. Running a hand over the plush cover, he said, “Nice bedroom, isn’t it?”

Professional. She needed to remain professional even when he was purposely trying to push every single one of her buttons. Mia was self-aware enough to know that with her passionate temperament, she had quite a few...

“Yes,” she agreed, “the architect did a fabulous job of giving Alana and her husband a great view of the lake while keeping the room extremely private, both from the rest of the house and the grounds outside.”

Of course, Ford had to get on the bed, cross his hands beneath his head on the pillow, and settle in as if he’d already bought the place. “You’re right, the view is just as good even when you’re lying down.” He turned his dark gaze from the stunning water view back to her. “Any chance you know how well soundproofed the room is?”

She’d expected him to hit her with something blatantly sexual in the bedroom, so despite the fact that her body instantly responded to the implication of loud, crazy sex, she was able to sound unruffled as she replied, “You’ll probably need to do some extra soundproofing for playing your electric guitar if you don’t want the sound to get out through the rest of the house.” Or whatever else it was he was actually going to do in here with his beautiful, brainless girlfriend whom Mia couldn’t help but hate. She pointed toward the bathroom. “There is a large his-and-hers bathroom and two big walk-in closets. If you’d like to take a look at those, we can go check out the second floor next.”

Though Ford slid his long legs over the edge of the bed, walked over to poke his head into the bathroom and the closets, and said, “Looks good,” she couldn’t escape the feeling that he was barely holding himself in check...or that his testing-out-the-bed escapade wasn’t even close to the full extent of how far he was going to try to push her today.

Extremely glad to get out of the master suite, she took him up the stairs to the second floor, and when they reached the landing, she said, “In addition to the master suite on the ground floor, there are three other bedrooms upstairs.”

“Only three, huh?” He went into one of the smaller bedrooms and picked up a soccer trophy that the home stager had put out on a boy’s desk. “Well, I guess the kids could share rooms.”

“Kids? Sharing rooms?” She shook her head, wondering how on earth he could possibly have kids she didn’t know about. Because no matter how much she’d wanted to keep her head buried in the sand whenever his name came up on TV, on the radio, or in a magazine over the years, it had simply been impossible. He was too famous. “Whose kids are going to live here?”

“Hopefully, mine, one day. You had five in your family, right?” Still reeling from the brand-new information that he was clearly planning on having a big family, she couldn’t manage anything more than a nod. And when he asked, “Didn’t you say one of your uncles had six?” she immediately corrected him with, “Eight.”

“Wow, eight kids.” He grinned at the thought of it. “Must have been a pretty fun house for them, growing up with all those kids in it.”

“It was,” she agreed, before she realized just how strange a direction their conversation had taken.

“Your uncle and his wife must have really been into each other, given all those kids they couldn’t help but make.”

“My uncle died when I was little, but from what my mother and father say about Uncle Jack and Aunt Mary, they were crazy in love with each other.”

“Crazy in love,” he said in a low voice that sent warmth rolling through her, head to toe. “I know just how that feels.”

Wait...what was she doing telling him all this personal stuff? And why on earth would she ever have been stupid enough to bring up love in his presence, when he was the last person who could possibly understand what real love was?

“Let’s head out to the grounds.” It would be good to get out of the house. Because even as big as it was, standing in the same room with Ford had been way too close.

Directly off the back patio was an incredible rose garden. Between the tower, the roses, and the water view, this property always felt close to heaven. Even when she was doing a showing, she couldn’t resist stopping to smell the roses. But the last thing she expected was for Ford to do the very same thing.

“I’ve only seen this October Moon rose in a handful of places outside of Seattle.” He inhaled their sweet scent, then said, “It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

During their week together, they hadn’t often emerged from his luxurious hotel suite—particularly the king bed—but on one of their few spontaneous outings, he’d asked her to take him to her favorite place in Seattle. She’d brought him to the Rose Garden at Woodland Park Zoo and together they’d smelled every rose in the garden. By the time they’d returned to his hotel, ravenous for each other again after less than two hours out of each other’s arms, she’d learned that when Ford had stepped away in the garden to make a quick phone call, it hadn’t been to discuss business. He’d ordered buckets of roses to be delivered to his hotel room while they were out.

Long into the night, he’d brushed the soft petals over her skin until she was begging for more than just the petals touching her.

With the potent memories washing over her, she couldn’t lie, couldn’t do anything but nod. All these years, Mia had forced herself to bury the good memories of being with Ford. But with the scent of her favorite rose perfuming the air, it was nearly impossible to push away the heady visions of the two of them laughing and loving together. He’d thrown her off balance by appearing unannounced as her anonymous client. But it was the sweetness of these memories that were really throwing her off.

Badly wanting to shift things away from their past and back toward the house, as they headed toward the pool patio, she asked, “So how do you like this house so far?”

“How do you like it?”

Telling herself it wasn’t that strange a question to parry back at her—clients often wanted to know if she thought a house was a good investment before getting attached to it—she said, “It’s well designed, well built, and in an exceptional location. And even though the tower is unique, it manages to add to the property rather than being something that would turn off future prospective buyers.”

“But can you see a family living here?”

Mia had never done anything but her very best for a client, so she made herself push away her personal feelings for Ford and take in the house from the standpoint of a woman with a husband and kids.

“Yes,” she told him as they walked around the pool. “I can see how much fun it would be for kids to run and play on the grass, and to use the tower as a secret playhouse. And even though it’s a big property, I think it’s just the right size for a parent to make sure no one’s getting hurt or being too nuts with their brothers and sisters.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want a place where people felt like they had to worry about breaking things, or where I’d need a staff to run it.”

Finally, she felt like she was getting to know something about the real Ford. Too late, yes, but still interesting, despite herself. “Honestly, while the house is great, what you’re really paying for is the location. I actually know a lot of local families who live in similar houses and I definitely don’t think it’s too fancy for a handful of messy kids to feel perfectly comfortable tracking mud into the kitchen.” Thinking about how often she and her brothers had done that, much to the consternation of her parents, she grinned. “When we were kids, the amount of mud on the floor was directly equivalent to the amount of fun we had playing outside.”

Before she could remember why they shouldn’t be smiling at each other, Ford was heading across the bricks to a slight grassy rise on the side of the house that looked out over the water and was completely surrounded on the other three sides by tall, leafy shrubs.

“This spot reminds me of that day we found that small park with the great view,” he said. “Do you remember?”

How could she ever forget? Blue skies had turned to drizzle by the time they’d laid out a blanket in Kerry Park behind the thick shrubbery that hid them from the rest of the neighborhood, but Ford had kept her warm with his body over hers. She’d believed his was the love she’d been waiting for, and that no other man could thrill her the way he did.

Unfortunately, while she’d been wrong about the love...she’d been dead right about the thrill. No other man had ever come anywhere close to making her feel so wild or so good.

She shook the memories away as she kept her gaze focused on the water at the edge of the property. “The view here really is beautiful.”

“You were a thousand times more beautiful that day than the view could ever be,” he said, each of his softly spoken words landing right in the heart around which she’d momentarily forgotten to keep up her guard. “You still are, Mia.”

“No.” She backed away from him, from his sweet yet loaded words and the way they made her feel things that she could never again let herself feel for him. “We already agreed that you can’t talk to me like that.”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever done is not touch you during the past hour.” He dropped his gaze to her lips. “No, that’s not true,” he said almost to himself as his eyes darkened further with desire. “It’s been a hell of a lot harder not kissing you.”

Five years ago, she hadn’t known any better than to let him sweep her off her feet so that she forgot everything but him. But now, even though she did know better, she still badly wanted his forbidden kiss.

“You think I don’t know your game? Showing up as an anonymous client to catch me off guard, brushing up against me when you go through a doorway, toying with me with your hot glances and sexy words? We both know it’s what you do, Ford. You’re a master at making women want you. You don’t need to try to reel me back in to prove that.”

“There’s only one woman I want to want me, Mia.”

Determined not to let anything he said or did affect her from here on out, she rolled her eyes. Honestly, at this point, it was ridiculous to think that she could look for a house for him in any kind of professional way. “I’m sure I’m supposed to be flattered that you thought one look at you standing in the tower like the conquering hero come home would make me drop to my knees and unzip you with my teeth.” She laughed out loud to let him know what she thought of that vision, praying he believed she was actually disgusted at the thought of being with him again. Her heart and mind were, of course—it was just her body that was busy trying to betray the rest of her. “Scrubbing the kitchen floor with a toothbrush sounds a thousand times better than that.”

“So,” he said with deceptive ease, “just to be clear, you’re saying you’re not interested in me anymore?”

“Not the slightest bit.”

“And you haven’t felt any sparks jumping between us the way they always did?”

“Nope.” She shrugged as if the answer to his question were totally obvious. “Nothing.”

“Funny, I was thinking just the opposite was true.”

“Then you were thinking wrong.”

“How’s this, then? You let me kiss you, and if you’re right and there’s nothing between us after all, I’ll stop pushing you where you don’t want to go. But if there is—”

“Do you really think I’m going to fall for some stupid dare where you’re going to declare afterward, no matter what happens, that there are sparks between us?”

“You’re the one who’s saying I leave you cold.” He hadn’t taken his eyes from hers, and in the span of a handful of words, they’d grown darker, more intense. “One kiss, Mia. Surely you can walk away from that.”

What had she done to deserve his return into her life? She’d packed up every beautiful moment, every sweet and sinful memory of being with Ford, and had buried them all in the deepest, darkest part of her heart. She’d worked so hard to put the past to rest. She’d been over him.

He couldn’t just come back like this, couldn’t make her want him like this, couldn’t send her emotions into turmoil with nothing but a dark look and a few tossed-off words in his deep, mesmerizing voice. Heck, she had a date tonight with a really great guy who could very well end up being the one.

But now, after less than an hour alone with Ford, she was grappling with all of her old demons.

She needed to take a step away from him, and then another and another until she was far enough that she couldn’t see him anymore, couldn’t smell him, couldn’t reach out to find out if his skin was still as hot to the touch as it had once been.

Pride be damned, she was going to have to let him win this round by running from him...if only to make sure he didn’t win back the one thing that really mattered.

Her heart.

Or worse, her soul.

But her feet still weren’t listening, because instead of taking her further from him, they were moving her closer, then closer still, until he was right there within kissing distance.

“One kiss,” she found herself agreeing though she knew better. “And when you realize that it, and you, mean absolutely nothing to me—” She shouldn’t need to pause, shouldn’t feel even the slightest hesitation in stating what she knew needed to happen. “—you’ll promise never to come near me again.”

He didn’t so much as blink before agreeing with a husky, “You have my word.”

And then he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head to hers...