.

      “No, that’s complete.”

      She conducted him to the door and shut it behind him with relief. Trent Hawkins might be near perfection in the appearance department—the perfect image of a rugged Western male—but he was also rude and pushy. She wasn’t sure she liked him, and was definitely sure he made her nervous.

      Before he’d come, she had made up her mind that if the estimate was reasonable, she’d go with Big Sky because of their reputation. They really were the best. But now she needed to think it through again. It gave her a peculiar sensation to know Trent wanted the house for reasons he refused to explain.

      But surely he would do a good job, regardless. Or rather, his employees would. It was just as well, because she’d rather not deal with the owner of the company in person again.

      * * *

      TRENT’S JAW ACHED with retraining his frustration as he drove back to Big Sky. He’d been certain Emily would sell the house to him. What kind of idiot hung on to a wreck when offered a profit after only six weeks of ownership?

      It didn’t make sense.

      By all accounts she was a successful businesswoman, and he’d offered her a sweetheart deal. She should have snapped it up, no questions asked.

      Trent let out an impatient breath and tried to sort out his impressions of Emily George. Medium brown hair, and he thought her eyes were brown, as well. She was around thirty and attractive, albeit somewhat nondescript, with loose clothes that concealed her figure. A huge point in her favor was that she hadn’t come off as a single woman on the prowl.

      She was stubborn, though. It was obvious from the way she’d reacted when urged to sell the house to him. He should have just told her that he’d lived there as a kid. She probably would have assumed he had a sentimental reason for wanting the place; she seemed the type to sympathize with that sort of thing.

      On the other hand, she might have raised unholy Cain later, when she saw what he really wanted to do with the property. Besides, he wasn’t good at subterfuge.

      His thoughts continuing to churn, Trent walked into the office and saw his sister.

      “Hey, what are you still doing here?” he asked, trying to sound normal.

      “I’m taking care of some things for the Firefighters Auxiliary. You said it was all right to use the photocopier and office supplies.”

      Trent shrugged. “Sure, just don’t ask me to get involved with that silly bachelor auction they hold every year.”

      “It’s for a good cause.”

      “No, thanks. I’ll make my usual donation and leave it at that.”

      Alaina looked wistful. “You’d make such a wonderful bachelor for the fund-raiser.”

      For some reason Trent thought of their new client and how poorly he’d handled his meeting with her. Granted, by a purely business standard she ought to have accepted his offer, but he hadn’t been at his best. The loud screech of the doorbell alone had evoked a flood of sensations, none of them positive. And it had been worse after he’d walked into the living room. Strange, how clearly the memories had come back. And he hadn’t been there since he was ten.

      “You’re forgetting my terrible social skills,” Trent told his sister.

      “Then it’s a good thing you have me to run your office,” Alaina told him brightly. “I’m great with people.”

      “True.”

      Alaina was another puzzle Trent hadn’t figured out. Why had she come back to Montana? After graduating with honors from Stanford with an MBA, she’d been recruited by a large New York firm and had risen rapidly in its ranks. Then a year ago, when his old office manager had announced she was retiring soon, Alaina had begged Trent for the job, saying she was homesick. He wasn’t sure he’d gotten the whole story.

      Nevertheless, she was terrific with people. She had all the social skills he lacked, though he worried that she let herself be too vulnerable and it was hard not being overprotective. Still, she had to make her own decisions, which Trent hoped would be better than those their mother had made. Why had she stayed with such a lousy husband?

      Trent’s mouth tightened. He’d wanted to protect his mom as well, and childhood conditioning was hard to escape. He still felt the old instinct, the urge to rush in and save people, but he’d discovered that some women were willing to use those instincts to their advantage. It hadn’t taken long before he’d got tired of the games.

      His sister looked at the clock and began gathering her belongings. “Much as I’d love to stay and convince you to get involved with a worthy cause, I have a meeting to attend. See you tomorrow.”

      “Be safe.”

      Dropping into his office chair, Trent pulled out the 320 Meadowlark Lane estimate. A lot of work was needed on the place and other things would undoubtedly crop up along the way. All of Big Sky’s estimates included a warning to that effect, and advised clients there was often a 20 percent, or higher, overage. His estimate consultant tried hard to check everything ahead of time—even doing a quick termite inspection—but something always got uncovered in such a large renovation.

      Uncovered.

      Damn.

      Emily wanted walls removed. Depending upon which walls and how curious people were about what they might find, a lot of questions could be asked.

      Trent rubbed his temples. It had been years since he’d taken the lead on a construction job. He checked on crews and sometimes lent a hand for a day or two, yet being the company’s owner gave him less and less time for work at a basic level. But he would take the lead on 320 Meadowlark Lane. That is, if Emily chose his company to do the renovation.

      A cold sensation went through Trent and he had a sudden impulse to reduce the estimate, anything to convince her to sign a contract with Big Sky Construction. But it would seem suspicious after his offer to buy the place, so he’d have to wait and hope.

CHAPTER TWO

      AFTER SLEEPING ON the subject and looking around the house in the early-morning light, Emily was almost ready to tell Trent Hawkins that he could have it after all. Then she saw an early rose blossom dangling over one of the living room windows and decided nothing had changed. Besides, with both of her businesses doing well, she could afford the indulgence.

      At 8:00 a.m. she phoned Big Sky and the office manager promised to have the contract ready by the end of the day.

      When Emily arrived at Big Sky Construction the following morning, she found the office building to the right of the gate. It didn’t surprise her to see that it was built to last, but the nicely maintained flowerbeds were unexpected—Trent Hawkins seemed a no-frills kind of guy.

      The door opened as she walked toward it.

      The woman holding it ajar smiled at her. “Hello.”

      “Hi, I’m Emily George. I’m here about the contract on my house.”

      “Nice to meet you. I’m Alaina Hawkins, Big Sky’s office manager.”

      Trent’s sister. He and Alaina shared the same dark hair and green eyes, except Alaina projected far more warmth than her brother.

      Alaina took a sealed envelope from her desk and handed it to Emily. “Go ahead and take this home to read and digest. There are two copies. When you’re ready, sign each of them and initial the pages. I’ll make copies of both for your records after Trent signs.” The office manager grinned. “We’re kind of redundant at Big Sky.”

      “I’ll read it here if you don’t mind,” Emily replied. “I’m really anxious to get this going. Until the house is done, I’m only camping out. A little of that is okay, but...”

      “It