FOUR
CLAIRE SWALLOWED THE COFFEEAND fought the waves of exhaustion threatening to pull her under. At the rate she was consuming the strong black liquid, she’d be better off taking it in intravenously. She hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep a night for the past ten days. Until the asbestos crew finished last Thursday, she’d been staying late, working on the rough-in in the ballroom and common spaces.
She didn’t want to let herself think it, but even if she could convince Luke to do the draws out of order she didn’t think she’d be able to finish this section of the job on time. She’d been pushing her crew as hard as she could, but she couldn’t afford to pay them overtime or take on additional help, and they were running out of days. She had four days left before she had to come up with the money for her dad’s care and paying for the asbestos abatement tapped her out. At least now that the flip house was clean she could keep going, but it also meant she had to divide her nights between the two jobs, trying to keep everything moving forward.
She glanced at the plans spread out on the floor, but she already knew where the cans for the recessed lighting were supposed to go. She’d drawn the fixture placement herself when she saw the changes that needed to be made to the lighting plan. She was just putting off climbing the ladder to do the install. Ceilings in the offices and hallway weren’t as high as the ballroom. She could work off a ladder instead of scaffolding, but nine feet off the hard concrete was high enough.
Maybe she ought to get one of her guys to help her, but they were paired up and making progress. She hated to pull them away from what they were doing.Just get over it and get it done, she thought, blowing out a breath. She picked up one of the metal cans and started to climb, the driver drill hanging from her tool belt bumping her knee with every step.
Balancing the fixture on the top rung of the ladder, she reached for her drill and the screws she needed to fasten the can to the metal studs. She started to raise the fixture over her head and the edges of her vision went gray. Before she could stop herself she was slipping from the ladder and falling backwards to the concrete below.
The fixture crashed to the ground and popped apart into a handful of pieces, but instead of hitting the concrete herself, Claire landed with a wumpf in strong masculine arms. She looked up momentarily stunned and into Luke’s eyes. He pulled her tight against his hard chest, his heart beating wildly under the polished cotton of his dress shirt.
“Claire, sweetheart, are you okay?” His arms around her trembled slightly either from the stress of holding her or anger at her stupidity, but his gaze held nothing but concern.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m okay. Put me down.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “You could have killed yourself.” He shifted her weight so he could hold her more comfortably and started to walk away with her still in his arms.
“But I didn’t.” She spoke the words slowly. The fierce set of his jaw made her feel like she was dealing with an enraged bull and not a reasonable businessman. “You need to put me down now.”
He never faltered, stepping over stacks of metal studs and around boxes of screws all the while muttering to himself. “Damned unreasonable woman. So fucking sure she knows it all. Works herself to fucking death. Don’t have time for this shit.”
“Listen,” she said, deliberately gentling her voice. “I know you’re busy. Put me down and we can both get back to work.”
He kept walking, ignoring her, and she started to panic. They were almost at the door to the outside. The last thing she needed was her guys seeing the client carrying her off of the jobsite. She’d worked hard to earn their respect. She couldn’t risk losing it because an overbearing caveman didn’t think she could take care of herself. She chose to momentarily ignore the fact that he’d saved her.
“I mean it, Luke,” she said, smacking his chest for emphasis. “Put me down. Someone is going to see us.”
He glanced down at her and the look in his eyes made her flinch. This was not a man who would be easily deterred.
“I said no. If you can’t take care of yourself then I’m going to have to do it for you. I mean it, Claire,” he said, the warning clear in his voice. “I’m not bending on this. You either listen to me now or I will break the contract and get someone else to do the job. I am not going to let you kill yourself on my project.”
Well just hell.
He walked through the doorway and into the sun. She had to squint to help her eyes adjust to the light as he jostled her around to reach for his keys. The man was strong; she’d give him that. He chirped open the door to his Veyron and dumped her on the front seat, reaching across her for the seat belt and buckling her in like an errant child.
“Wait, where are you taking me?” she managed to say before the door slammed, and she was talking to herself.
Nice. Fucking Neanderthal. She had a job to do and a crew to run. If he thought he could just kidnap her, he had another thing coming. The problem was now that she was sitting in the car, the nerves of almost crashing to the concrete had caught up to her and she’d started to shake. Even in the oven-like interior her skin felt cold and clammy, and her teeth had started to chatter. Before she could pull herself together enough to climb out of the car, Luke was sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.
“W-w-where are you taking me.” God, she couldn’t stop shaking. She was proving his point for him.
“My place.” He glanced at her, reaching over to cup her cheek. His hand was the only thing that felt warm to her even though she knew the car must still be hotter than was comfortable for him. “I’m going to feed you. You’re going to take a nap and then we’re going to talk.”
“But my crew…”
“Will be fine without you for an afternoon. I’ve seen the way they work for you. They’re the most disciplined crew on the job. Wish some of it would rub off on the fucking framers.”
He tapped a few buttons on the dash and Spark’s familiar voice came out of the speakers.
“’lo,” said the construction manager.
“Hey Sparks, Could you let the electricians know Ms. English is off the job for the rest of the day?”
“She okay?” The concern in the gruff old man’s voice warmed Claire even as she fumed over Luke’s high-handed approach to her business.
“She’s fine – or she will be. She’s under the weather, but I’m sure she’ll be back on the job tomorrow. Just let them know if they ask.”
