Ghost nodded. “You kind, even if you don’t want people to know.” He ushered the boy out of sight, and after one more scan of his neighbor’s windows, Ed entered the house.
Cora appeared on the stairs dressed in a beautiful, bright-blue dress that fit her to perfection. His heart smashed against his ribs and fell to his gut. The bright color brought out her eyes and accentuated her hair. She was dangerously breathtaking. Beautiful enough to make a man forget his purpose in life. “Stunning,” he mouthed more than said.
“I thought I’d make sure you approved before our outing tomorrow night.”
“I approve.” He hung his coat and hat on the rack and offered his arm, hoping she’d wear that to dinner just for his eyes. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Cora patted his arm. “If it isn’t too much trouble, can I speak with you in your office for a minute?”
“Yes, of course.” Ed guided her to a chair in his sanctuary near the window, where the light flooded in around her.
“Close the door please. We don’t want the servants listening.” She sat tall in her seat. Her ankle slipped out from the bottom of the dress, and he thought he’d collapse at her feet.
“Yes,” he choked out. He wished Ghost was here to chaperone or hit him if he got out of line, but he was busy with the boy. Certainly Ed could manage to maintain his self-control the way he always had before Cora came into his life.
He closed the door and sat opposite Cora, straight and against the back of the seat. “What is it? Did Grous come by?”
“No. Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She leaned forward, brushing her fingers over his knee, making his pulse beat against his neck. “I wanted to show you these.” She retrieved three small wooden figures from a purse he hadn’t noticed she was carrying that matched her dress.
He took the objects from her and ran his fingers down the smooth surface, studying the way the fur looked like it moved in the wind, despite it being nothing more than a carving. “They’re so real.”
“I know. When you took me to Woodward Gardens, you inspired me.” An excitement dusted her beautiful face. “We need this event to be extravagant to show how wealthy you are and that you’re only hosting out of friendship and to provide opportunity to those around you by allowing them to invest with you.”
“Yes. You have a mind for business,” he said with pride bubbling to the surface. Never had he ever met a woman with such intelligence and drive.
“You’re kind, but those are words my pa always spoke.”
“Your pa sounds like he was a smart man, and he raised a brilliant daughter.”
“He was.”
Her downcast gaze drew him to sit forward in hopes of comforting her. He longed to pull her into his arms again and feel her melt into him, to surrender to him.
She touched the bear resting in his palm, sending a zap up his arm. “Each of these will be constructed to a larger scale and placed inside the foyer and ballroom. I’m going to drape fabrics of various colors around the house and hang paper lanterns. All of this to represent the areas of the world you are connected to or can expand to with your shipping business and how San Francisco is ready for such exotic goods. That you are the man to procure anything a man can imagine they want.”
In that moment, he realized Cora way more than a beautiful face and curves. Her mind and spirit outshined her physical beauty—something he never thought possible. She really was the most impressive woman, more ingenious than any man he’d ever met in business.
“You don’t approve?”
“No. I mean yes. It’s brilliant.You’rebrilliant.”
The sound of feet parading down the stairs and childlike giggles drew his attention to the door, but Cora grabbed his hands without gloves, sending fire through his body. “You really think I’m brilliant?”
Her chest rose and fell with distracting quick breaths.
“Yes, I do.” He cleared his throat of the rugged want in his tone. “But how do we afford all of this?”
“It’s already handled. We won’t have to pay until after the event.”
“Won’t that raise suspicions? Mr. Grous could hear of this.”
That coy smile appeared again. “No, I don’t think he would.”
“People in these circles talk about anything noteworthy.”
“Yes, but I don’t think they’ll be talking to the man who carved these or the women who are designing the lanterns, or any of our workers.”
“How can you be sure?”
