Owen opened the front door for them

Owen opened the front door for them. Nonie entered first, chattering away as she did. Jordan, who’d been examining the carved doorframe, followed more slowly. As she stepped over the threshold, she was stopped by his hand.
Her brows drew together in a questioning frown as she instinctively pulled her arm away from the warmth of his fingers. With an effort, she resisted the urge to rub the spot on her arm that still tingled from the momentary contact. She really wished he’d stop with all this casual touching. “Yes?” she asked.
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about the awkwardness of the situation. I don’t think Nonie realizes—”
That shows how little you know her. “Please don’t apologize. Your presence makes absolutely no difference to me.” A part of her couldn’t believe how rude she had just been. She wasn’t usually churlish. But few people succeeded in irritating her with so little effort. Indeed, he was so irritating that she decided she wasn’t going to apologize for the remark. Her chin rose defiantly.
If he was offended, he didn’t show it. “Well, I won’t worry then,” he said.
She caught the thread of amusement in the low rumble of his voice. What could he possibly find so entertaining, she wondered, before stifling a gasp as he suddenly leaned forward.
His strong-boned face was far too close. For some reason, though, she stood rooted to the spot, watching as his angled head came even nearer. My God, was he going to kiss her?
Mere inches away from her trembling lips, he halted his progress and simply inhaled. Deeply.
Jordan nearly jumped out of her skin. Had he just sniffed her?
“What … what are you doing?” The words came out in a panicked rush that matched the speed of her pulse.
His smile was as innocent as a choir boy’s. “Nothing. I was trying to identify your perfume.”
“I … I’m not … I’m not wearing perfume.”
His face was still far too close. The gold chips glittered in his dark eyes, brilliant and mesmerizing. They made her system go haywire. She couldn’t move, not even to take half a step backward.
“Are you sure?” He frowned. “How strange, because you smell wonderful.” That he sounded abstracted, as if he weren’t intentionally trying to fluster her, only rattled her more.
“I—” She had no idea what to say.
She was saved by Nonie, who called out, demanding to know what was holding them up.
Owen straightened, a smile playing over his lips. “I guess it’s time to show us what you’ve got, Jordan.”
Okay, now she was truly convinced he was playing some kind of mind game to throw her off balance. Perhaps he was exacting revenge for her earlier comment. Her dislike ratcheted up a notch. And, no, her antipathy had nothing to do with the fact that this man had been able to make her heart stop and then pound like a kettledrum just by bringing his classically carved face a warm, coffee-laced breath from hers.
With a parting glare she turned and strode in the direction of Nonie’s voice, determined to ignore Owen Gage and to dazzle Nonie Harrison. The former now seemed the greater challenge.
Afternoon sunlight poured in through the living room’s twin Palladian windows, illuminating the space and highlighting the restored plaster moldings and decorative columns. Beneath Jordan’s feet the parquet floor was freshly sanded and finished. Its warm honey tones gleamed. She stopped in the center of the room, taking in the airy proportions and the vertical rhythms created by the windows and columns and the large marble fireplace on the opposite wall.
If this were her home, Jordan thought, she’d do as little decorating as possible, letting the architectural details speak for themselves.
But Nonie’s aesthetic was best described as “more and more is more,” so the trick to satisfying her tastes would be to suggest just the right number of knickknacks and patterned silks, without burying the elegance of the interior space under a mountain of visual clutter.
The feat would have been challenging enough without Owen listening in. Stationed by one of the windows, he was peering intently out at the garden as if fascinated by the reddish-green leaves on the still bloomless rosebushes. She supposed she should be grateful that he was attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible, yet somehow she couldn’t muster even a smidge of gratitude. His silent presence was too distracting. And she was furious with herself for continuing to notice him at all—he was the last person she should be thinking about at a time like this.
The time had come to act like the professional she was supposed to be. If that weren’t enough inducement, she reminded herself that the sooner she finished talking to Nonie about design ideas for the cottage, the sooner she could say good-bye to Owen Gage. With luck she’d never see him again.
She took a moment to fish a notepad and fountain pen from her large leather tote. Fixing a bright smile on her face, she said, “The restoration work is simply wonderful, Nonie. I can’t wait to see the other rooms. Let me give you an idea to consider. When I started thinking about the décor for the cottage, I realized it might be neat if we could create a pretty, carefree echo of the style you’ve achieved in the larger house.”
“How interesting. Tell me what that would look like.”
“Well, as the cottage is a smaller version of the main house, I’d like to connect the spirit of the two houses so that when your guests and family are here in this space, it’ll be like an extension, a riff on Overlea.”
Nonie’s brow furrowed, a feat considering the number of botox sessions she’d had. “But I don’t want just a repeat of what I have.”
“Of course not,” Jordan agreed lightly. “The purpose of the guest cottage is very different—you don’t want, for example, to worry about things being broken or damaged here, so we should select pieces and fabrics that are a bit more playful, carefree, and above all maintenance free.”
“And what about colors?”
“Well, I know how much you like lavenders and blues. I think that palette would go especially well in this room. We could work those colors into the fabrics and keep the walls an off-white with an accent trim for the woodwork. The whites will keep your blues and lavenders purer and also enhance the wonderful sense of light and air in the room.”
“I like that. And what about over here by the fireplace?”
“Bookshelves.”
“Bookshelves?” Nonie repeated vaguely.
She nodded. “One of the joys of staying in someone’s home is discovering the library, a wonderful mix of classics and all different kinds of genres, and then curling up with a book in front of the fireplace. We can place two wing chairs and ottomans on either side of the fireplace and have the sofa over there. Your guests will have lots of room to curl up with a book in the afternoon between lunchtime and cocktails—those hours when, as a hostess, you really value your privacy. Remember, the mission of the cottage is that it’s as much for you as it is for your guests.”
Nonie laughed in delight. “You’re so wonderfully clever, Jordan. Isn’t she clever, Owen?”
He turned from the window and his gaze settled on her. “Yes, she is.”
Why did her cheeks have to warm like a schoolgirl’s simply because he hadn’t said her ideas were garbage?
“This is tremendous fun! Now, tell me what you envision for the other rooms, Jordan. And in case I forget, when we get to the bedrooms, I’d want one of them to have a younger look.”
Jordan nodded easily. “Jane Churchill has some exquisite papers and fabrics for children’s rooms. They’re so beautiful and classic an adult would love falling asleep surrounded by them, too. That sort of flexibility is important when you’re decorating a guest house. I brought a sample book of her papers and fabrics to show you as well as some other designers I thought you might like.”
“You are a marvel, Jordan. Truly.”