Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

She swallowed. He looked tough and sexy, rumpled and just rough enough around the edges to turn that low hum of desire up a few notches.

This was where a flirting lesson would have been helpful. She could have said something that would have defused the situation and made them both laugh. Then they could have moved on. Instead, she felt as if she was being boiled in oil. The atmosphere rippled with sexual undercurrents she had no idea how to handle and it didn’t help that he was standing so close to her. Far too close. In fact, all he had to do was lower his head and—

“This roof terrace is roasting,” she said lamely. “I could fry an egg on the deck.”

“Maybe you should take a layer off.” His husky voice stroked across her skin and her gaze skidded to his.

What the hell was he playing at? This was Matt. Matt. And he was telling her to take her clothes off? She was so far out of her comfort zone it was like hanging off a sheer cliff by her fingernails.

“No, thanks. Talk me through the project. I took a look at Victoria’s plans. They’re good. I’ll stick with her suggestions and maybe add a few more ideas. What are your thoughts on furniture? Seating?” Other women flirted. She talked about furniture. Not only that but she was babbling, too, her torrent of words a direct contrast to Matt’s watchful silence.

She had a feeling he was waiting for her to talk herself out.

And there it was again, that strange electric feeling behind her ribs. Her skin felt sensitive, as if all her nerve endings had suddenly woken from a deep sleep.

“The main seating will be three log benches.” His calm, steady voice was a direct contrast to her fluttering nerves. “They’ll blend with the rustic environment, and the weight will mean they won’t be blown around by the wind.”

“Sounds good. Are you building those yourself? You’re so good with your hands. I mean in the sense of making things, not anything else.” Oh, what was wrong with her? His soft laughter was the final straw and she covered her eyes with her hands.

“Enough! I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Still laughing, he eased her hands away from her face. “What can’t you do, honey?”

His fingers were warm and strong and she wondered if he could feel her pulse racing. “Have these conversations!”

“What’s wrong with the conversation?”

“I’m saying all the wrong things.”

“There is no wrong thing with me.” He paused. “And you’re right. I am pretty good with my hands.”

She had no idea whether the log bench was still part of this conversation or whether they were talking about something else. And if they were talking about something else, then—

Her head was spinning.

She stood, face burning in the heat, both her tongue and her tummy in knots.

Finally, he stepped away from her, giving her space.

“You should come and see the bench I’ve already made. It’s down at the workshop. We have other stuff there you might be able to use.”

Okay, so now he was talking about work. Work she could handle.

Back in her comfort zone, she felt herself relax. “Given any thought to shade?”

“I’ve recommended a pergola. They were checking their budget but it looks as if they’ll go with that.”

“How are you going to get the construction equipment and supplies onto the roof?”

“I’m using materials that can be carried up in the elevator, otherwise we would have had to hire a crane and then you can kiss goodbye to $25,000. Is this the point where you tell me you’re going to need a crane to haul all the soil you’re planning on using?”

She tucked her thumbs into her pockets. “No. It’s a roof terrace, so a lightweight, fast draining soil mix will keep the weight to a minimum.” She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed the challenge of designing a roof terrace. There were so many aspects to consider, from privacy and outlook to the extremes of weather.

“Planters?”

“There are a couple of options.” She glanced around, picturing it in her mind. “You could use lightweight fiberglass planters, or fiberstone. The mixture of stone and fiberglass would be a good choice.”

“When they’re weathered, they look like stone.” He nodded. “That would work well. You should definitely take a look at what we have in the workshop. There might be something there you can use.”