The ballroom of the Halifax Hotel had the atmosphere of a forgotten underwater cave. The atrium skyroof had been boarded up, allowing only a few spears of sunlight to fall into the cavernous space. Faded wallpaper peeled from the walls like giant strips of seaweed. Dust lay everywhere, dulling the few bits of furniture that lay scattered about. Large mirrors spotted with age threw back dim reflections of the neglect.

Despite the gloom and grime, Holly couldn’t help being impressed by the expansive proportions, soaring ceiling, and elegant columns. As she gazed about her, she pictured her parents dancing on the polished wooden floor, her mom’s gown floating around her, her dad adoring her. If only her mom were still alive…

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” someone murmured close by.

She turned to find a man admiring the room. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

Smiling, he held out a hand. “I’m Chad Litchfield.”

“Holly Rochester.” She shook his hand.

“Yes, I saw you last Friday at the Gilberts.” He held her hand a fraction too long before releasing it. About thirty, in pressed jeans and expensive polo shirt, clean shaven, neat hair, Chad exuded a preppy handsomeness.

“So, we’re rivals then?” she asked.

“Friendly rivals, I hope.”

She laughed. “Oh, sure. I’ll buy you a drink when I win.”

“And I’ll buy you a drink before I win,” Chad said with a toothy grin.

Cocky, she thought. But only as cocky as she was. “So, who do you represent?”

“Naxos, a private investment company. We’re planning to convert the building into condos.”

“Condos? You mean you won’t preserve it as a hotel?”

Chad shook his head. “We’re not interested in hotels. We’ll buy it, restore it, and flog it. Should make a good profit.”

“But what about this ballroom?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to restore it. Historical significance and all that. It’ll make a nice members’ lounge or exhibition space.”

No dancing, no band, no romance. Just boring condos. Oh, she couldn’t let her dad down.

“Looks like the others are arriving.” Chad motioned his head toward the entrance.

Several people were filing into the ballroom. First were the Gilberts with the journalist who’d been at the meeting last week, his camera slung over his neck. Behind them were two men, and bringing up the rear were Dane and a statuesque redhead, laughing and chatting together.

Holly’s stomach clenched at the sight of Dane looking dangerously hot in grungy jeans and a chest-hugging, blue, Metallica T-shirt. He seemed to be enjoying the redhead’s company quite a lot. She didn’t blame him; the woman was tall and striking, with thick, long hair and a voluptuous figure.

“That’s Simone Connaught,” Chad murmured in her ear. “She won Olympic silver in skiing while studying for an MBA at Harvard. Now she’s a vice president at Gecko Investments.”

Great, successful at sports and business, and gorgeous to boot. No wonder Dane couldn’t tear himself away from her. Holly frowned. Was she actually jealous? No, dammit, of course not.

At that moment Dane lifted his head and looked straight at her. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes grow a little brighter? A tingle snaked up her spine, a sure sign that her body was still intimately attuned to him. Was he remembering how she’d melted in his arms not once but twice last Friday? Did he know she’d spent the weekend at her grandmother’s place in Napa Valley with her cell phone turned off just to avoid any hint of temptation? He’d have a good laugh if he knew. Tilting her chin, she returned his stare. From now on he wouldn’t get the better of her.

“Ah, it’s lovely to see everyone here so full of beans and raring to go.” Lizzie beamed as everyone gathered in the center of the dance floor. She gestured about her. “As you can see, the ballroom is sadly neglected, but hopefully it will inspire you all to do your best at our little challenge. Now, perhaps we should introduce ourselves first.”

They took turns introducing themselves. The two men were from out of state, Hector from Florida, and Donald from New York. The journalist reintroduced himself as Pete Martell.

“Try to ignore me,” he said. “I want to get as many candid shots as possible. The first story went out yesterday, and our readers are very intrigued by the challenge, so expect to see a lot of me.” As if to emphasize his words, he aimed his camera at Holly and Chad and fired off several shots.

“Right, well, let’s get started!” Humbert Gilbert rubbed his hands, looking quite excited. “We’ll begin with a tour of the hotel. Follow me, please.”

An hour later, they were back in the ballroom, their shoes a lot dustier. They had inspected the lobby, the restaurant, the bar, and the crammed kitchen quarters. They had ascended in the rickety lift to the top floor, where they examined the penthouse suites with their stunning views of the San Francisco skyline. Everywhere they went Holly noticed the sublime Art Deco features beneath the grime. This place was a sleeping beauty waiting to be revived. Even if she didn’t win she’d be glad to see it restored.

By accident or design, the six competitors seemed to have paired off. Chad stuck to Holly’s side, Hector and Donald appeared to have a lot in common, while Simone seemed determined to monopolize Dane.

As everyone trooped back into the ballroom, Holly stepped away from the others and leaned her hip against a grubby, broken sofa. Chad edged closer to her with a bland smile. Dane stood near the back wall, arms folded, his tight T-shirt making the most of his impressive biceps. Holly determinedly forced her gaze away and focused on the Gilberts.

Humbert stepped forward. “Now that you’ve seen a little of our grande dame, I hope it’s inspired you for our first round of the challenge. Your task is to refurbish one of the guest suites in the Halifax Hotel. You’ll each be given a suite, and you will have a week from today to complete your assignment. No outside help whatsoever is allowed, and we’ll have observers and security guards patrolling the premises to make sure you stick to the rules. There’s a storeroom stocked with ladders, drop sheets, and plenty of tools for everyone. And remember the waivers you all signed on Friday, so please be careful as we wouldn’t be held liable for injuries. Any questions?”

“Do we have a budget?” Simone asked.

“No. You can spend as much or as little as you want, but remember that Lizzie and I aren’t necessarily impressed by money, so be careful.”

“Any restrictions on design?” Dane asked.

“Naturally we don’t want any walls knocked down, but other than that the sky’s the limit. This is your chance to show us your creativity and flair.” Humbert spread his arms wide like a magician about to do his latest trick. “Dazzle us, amaze us, seduce us!”

Holly fought down a chuckle. The Gilberts were truly original, and in their own way rather sweet and loveable.

“I have personally chosen rooms for each of you.” Humbert scooped up a bunch of heavy keys and began distributing them. When he reached Holly, he pressed the final key into her hands. “Ah, yes, I chose the Vienna Suite for you. It was a favorite among our visiting opera singers. I look forward to seeing what you make of it, Miss Rochester.”

Holly’s heart sank a little. What did she know about opera singers and Vienna? How was she going to dazzle the Gilberts, not to mention amaze and seduce them?

With a theatrical flourish, Humbert pulled out a pocket watch and held up his hand for silence. “It is now ten o’clock on Monday morning. Lizzie and I will be inspecting your rooms at ten o’clock a week from now. Until then, a bientot and best of luck.”

Holly almost expected him to make a bow, but instead he held out an arm to his sister, and the two septuagenarians sailed out of the ballroom, leaving the contestants with Pete, the journalist.

“Looks like we’re all on the sixteenth floor,” Chad said.

“Good.” Simone nodded. “That means we can keep an eye on each other and make sure no one cheats.”

Holly lifted her eyebrows. “You think one of us might cheat?”

“I’m prepared for anything. Some of us are more talented than others.” Simone lifted a shoulder. “I’ve just had my home done by the top designer in California. I think I’ve got this covered.”

“Must be nice,” Holly couldn’t help retorting. “Having so much confidence.”

Simone blinked like she was surprised at being questioned. “I’ve been competing all my life. I know what it takes to win. I wasn’t born into a rich family, like some of us here.”

Someone smothered a cough. Holly sucked in a breath. Okay, so she and Simone weren’t destined to be besties. And the woman was right; Holly was only here because she bore the Rochester surname. Unlike Simone, she hadn’t had to claw her way up the corporate ladder or fight for every promotion. In fact, in the past she’d rebelled against her name and the family business, even caused embarrassment and trouble for her relatives.

She dawdled behind while the others left the ballroom and headed for the bank of elevators.

“I’m only here because of my surname, too,” Dane murmured, right behind her.

She spun around and realized they were alone in the ballroom. Damn, how had that happened?

“Don’t let Simone get to you,” he added.

“I’m not.”

“Good. You shouldn’t waste any energy on her.”

“Oh, yeah?” She folded her arms. “I should be wasting it on you?”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t be wasting it.” His eyes glimmered like sea glass. “You’d be getting exactly what you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

He cocked his head. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”

She had no comeback. It was a good thing she’d hidden at her grandma’s this past weekend, but how on earth was she going to survive two weeks in close proximity with Dane?

She marched ahead of him into the lobby. The others had already disappeared upstairs. She punched the elevator button, and the doors to an empty car slid open. They both stepped in. The car began its rattling journey upward. How long was she going to be trapped with Dane? He looked so deliciously hot leaning against the wall in grungy jeans and skintight T-shirt. Her temperature inched up. This was no good.

“So,” she blurted out. “You seemed very pally on the tour with Miss Olympic-Silver-Medal-Harvard-MBA. Is she your type?”

His black eyebrows arched. “She’s very accomplished,” he said smoothly.

Holly clenched her room key tighter. Wrong question. Now she was definitely green. “Super.”

“How about you and Preppy Boy?” Dane lifted his chin at her. “He stuck to your side like a burr.”

“Oh, so you noticed?”

“I notice everything.”

The elevator pinged, and the doors creaked open. Thank heavens, Holly thought as she hurried out. Now to focus on her room and getting through the first round.

***

Later that day, Dane was walking down the corridor on the sixteenth floor when the sound of muffled thumps from a nearby suite reached him. He stopped in the doorway and looked in. At the far end by the windows Holly was precariously perched on a stepladder while she reached out to the top of the velvet drapes.

She cursed loudly as she struggled with the hooks.

Dane moved forward. “Need some help?”

She glanced over her shoulder, strands of silver hair falling in her eyes. “Nah, I got this,” she said. “The hooks are all rusted together, but they just need a good yank.”

She turned back to her task. Dane stood at the bottom of the ladder, gazing unashamedly at Holly’s butt. Her faded jeans were low on the hips, tight on the ass, just the way he liked them. From this angle, with her black T-shirt riding up, he had a tantalizing glimpse of smooth skin and a small waist. As he watched, she angled her upper body to the left and pushed out her ass.

Dane’s mouth dried. Damn, the woman knew how to wear jeans. Were they buttoned or zipped? How easy would it be to slide them off her? An image of her lacy thong disappearing between round cheeks got the blood pumping in his groin. Ah, hell.

“Watch out,” Holly called out.

Before he could move, heavy fabric fell over him in a choking cloud of dust. He pulled the curtain off him and wiped his forearm across his eyes.

Holly clambered down the ladder. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s just dirt.” He ruffled his hair, causing another shower of gray particles. “I’m used to it.”

“Are you? I have to admit I’m not. In fact, this is all a bit daunting.” She gestured around the room. Her suite, like the one he’d been assigned, consisted of a living room, bedroom, and bathroom. “There’s so much to do, and some people are way ahead of me. Like Simone. She’s already cleared out both rooms and ripped out all the wallpaper.”

“You know the story about the tortoise and the hare.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely the tortoise.” She gave him a rueful smile. “But I’m not giving up. I’ll just have to work extra hours to keep up with everyone else.”

“I never thought you were a quitter.” He motioned at the remaining curtain still hanging up. “Why don’t I help you with that one?”

“Would you?” Her eyes widened appealingly. “That would be great. I’m too short, or the ladder is, or both.”

“We can see if there’s a taller one somewhere, but I’ll get this for you.”

He picked up the ladder and shifted it to the other curtain. He clambered up and made short work of the rusty old hooks. He let the curtain drop without thinking, and only when he heard a muffled shriek did he realize that Holly must’ve been standing right beneath him.

He jumped down to the ground as she emerged from the fabric, coughing and spluttering and covered in dust, just like he was.

“Why were you standing so close?” he asked.

In answer she shook her head and wiped at her face, leaving behind dusty streaks of grime.

Dane grinned. “Couldn’t help checking out my ass, huh?”

She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to smile. “I needed a break.”

“Anytime you need a break, just call me.”

She let out a sigh. “Oh jeez. Why is it we can’t go five minutes without the talk turning dirty?”

“You know my theory, and my solution.”

“Sorry, not gonna happen.”

“All right, then.” He pointed at the piles of drapes. “Let’s get these down to the dumpster. Shouldn’t take long.”

“But you’ve already helped me enough. You’ve got your own work to do.”

Dane was already folding up the dusty velvet. “Get a move on, honey. Unless you’ve changed your mind about taking a break.”

She immediately set to work gathering up the other curtain.

When they were in the elevator going down, she said, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

“It’s not against the rules, is it?”

“No outside help, remember? This is fine.”

She smiled. “Good. I’d hate for you to be penalized.”

He gazed at her. It felt like they’d reached some kind of truce. Or maybe they’d forgotten they were on opposite sides for a while. The elevator car rattled. “Hey, while we’re downstairs, we can see if there’s a longer ladder for you.”

Her cornflower eyes lit up. “That would be great. I was wondering how I’d reach the chandeliers.”

Later that afternoon, Dane was passing Holly’s suite again when he heard a male voice coming from inside. Pausing on the threshold, he saw Chad holding the stepladder—the taller one that Dane had helped her carry upstairs from the basement—while Holly stood atop, ripping the ancient wallpaper off.

Dane’s spine instantly stiffened. Preppy Boy was squinting up at Holly’s butt, and she didn’t seem to notice or care. Shit. Still, he’d done the same. And this was none of his business. He turned away.

“Huh, looks like Holly’s conning the competition already,” Simone said next to him.

Dane frowned as he continued on his way. “Don’t know what you mean.”

Simone kept pace with him. “Really? You don’t see how she’s flirting with poor Chad, getting him to help her and stealing time from him at the same time?”

Like she’d done with him earlier? Dane shook his head. He refused to believe that had been in anyway calculated.

“I doubt she’s that devious.”

Simone wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like her. She’s so full of herself.”

“Maybe it’s confidence.”

“Based on what? Last time I checked, she’d never gone to Harvard or won any Olympic medals.”

Now who’s full of herself? “Well, then you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”

“Oh, true.” She tossed back her red ponytail. “Holly’s just a spoiled princess who’s never lifted a finger. I’m going to win this competition, whatever it takes. Sorry, Dane, but I’m just used to winning.”

“Don’t apologize. You haven’t won yet.”

***

Dragging a forearm across her brow, Holly slumped on the crate and exhaled a deep sigh. She was covered in gunky sweat, her grubby T-shirt was sticking to her back, and the muscles in her upper thighs were aching. The Stairmaster at her gym was nothing compared to the workout she’d received today clambering up and down the stepladder.

Despite her efforts, she was still behind the others. As she gazed at the acres of tattered wallpaper still waiting to be removed, and the debris on the floor that had to be swept up, her shoulders sagged. Why had she ever thought she could do this? She was going to crash out on the first round. Her father would be disheartened, her brother would be disappointed, and she’d be mad with herself. And what if Dane went on to win the Halifax for the Schofields?

No, she couldn’t let that happen without a fight.

Her cell phone, sitting on a window ledge, started to beep. She heaved herself to her feet and crossed over to check it.

An alert from a local Italian restaurant telling her that her takeout delivery would be arriving downstairs in two minutes.

She had her brother to thank for this. When Kirk had called earlier and found out she was working back, he’d insisted on organizing dinner for her. Sometimes it was easier not to argue with him, and besides, she’d been eager to get off the phone in case he detected any signs of dejection in her.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was now past eight pm.

“Thanks, Kirk,” she muttered as she headed for the elevators.

Ten minutes later, she returned to the sixteenth floor with her takeout. She’d assumed everyone had left, but the door to Dane’s suite stood ajar, with light spilling out into the hallway. She walked up and pushed the door open.

Dane was sweeping the floor. He glanced up and lifted his eyebrows. “I thought you’d gone for the day.”

“Nope. Went downstairs to pick up my dinner.” She lifted the large paper bag from which delicious, mouthwatering scents were wafting. “There’s plenty here. Want to share?”

“Sounds good.” Using his broom, he pointed at an old, upholstered sofa in the middle of the room. “That should be clean enough now.”

She crossed over and sat down while Dane dragged a crate to use as a makeshift coffee table. She set out the large lasagna and crusty garlic loaf from the paper bag together with plastic cutlery and napkins. She quickly divided the lasagna in two and lifted one of the portions onto the container’s lid.

“Oh, god, I’m starving!” she declared as she dug into her serving.

Dane ate more slowly, watching her with an amused tilt to his lips. “Reminds me of that night in Lake Tahoe. You demolished your steak like a zombie eating brains.”

Holly bit off a large chunk of garlic bread and wiped the crumbs from her lips. “I like my food.”

Plus, there was something about Dane’s presence that sharpened all her senses, including her appetite and her libido. That night in Lake Tahoe she’d never eaten such succulent steak or drunk such smooth red wine. Or had such incredible sex. It had been a night of sublime experiences. Was it the same for him?

She studied Dane, noting the contours of his cheekbones, the nicks and scratches on his large hands, the enigmatic sheen of his emerald eyes.

“What made you break with your dad all those years ago?” she suddenly asked.

His hand, lifting a forkful of food, stilled in mid-air. “You really want to know?”

“Uh, not if it you don’t want to tell me.”

He lowered the fork, his eyes veering away. “Nothing that interesting, really. Just the usual teenage rebellion. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

“Right.” What she knew was that he didn’t want to tell her the real story. Dane’s barriers were subtle but definite. “I’m no stranger to rebellion. I once joined a protest against a hotel my family was trying to build. Chained myself to a piece of machinery. The cops sawed me off and arrested me, along with a few other protesters. The journalists had a field day with that.”

Dane’s eyebrows lifted. “What happened next?”

“My cousin was furious with me. He wanted the police to press charges, but my brother persuaded him not to. Things weren’t too smooth between us and Lex for a while. One time, Lex even suspected me of industrial espionage. But we’re all good now.”

Though she still had a way to prove herself. Not that Dane needed to know that.

“Family’s important to you,” Dane said.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. I used to hate the baggage that came with the Rochester name, but I’m more mature now. I’ll always be a Rochester, and I’m proud of that.”

He finished his mouthful of food before saying, “What kind of baggage?”

“Oh, you know.” She toyed with her fork. “People being friendly just because I’m a Rochester. Guys more interested in my money or my access to rich folks than me.”

His eyebrows drew together in a deep furrow. “Leeches. Disgusting.”

Ugh. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? She didn’t want him thinking she was so pathetic she couldn’t identify a moocher. She sat up and grabbed a paper napkin.

“It happens. Luckily I cottoned on in time.”

Except once. A couple of years ago she’d fallen for a vegetarian, hippy-bearded idealist. She’d thought she’d met her soul mate, until she caught him with her checkbook, forging her signature. It wasn’t enough that she’d paid for everything; he wanted more, and he didn’t see why she shouldn’t keep him in clover.

She’d booted him out of her life. Reinforced the steel and concrete around her heart. Dated other men, forgotten about him. Until three weeks ago when she’d learned he’d married a brewery heiress. She didn’t want him, but the old hurt still smarted, reminding her of her mistakes. Which was why she’d decided to take an anonymous break in Lake Tahoe. And boy, had she managed to forget everything about him. She had Dane to thank for that. He’d managed to shake the walls surrounding her. But it was all due to the amazing sex. Nothing else.

Dane was still looking at her with a strange expression in his eyes. Was it pity? The last thing she needed was him feeling sorry for her.

“Don’t take any notice of my blabbing, okay?” She gathered her used utensils and napkin and shoved them back into the paper bag before standing. “Well, that was great, but I need to get back to work.”

He pushed to his feet, towering over her. He didn’t say anything, but she sensed his quiet strength. For once the aura radiating from him was less sexual, more emotional. A tremor ran through her. She had a sudden urge to rest her head against his chest. How would it feel to have his solid arms around her, to hear the steady beat of his heart?

Then Dane spoke. “I’ve just about finished here. I’ll come over and give you a hand.”

She blinked up at him. Damn, he was feeling sorry for her. She couldn’t have that.

“No.” She stepped back, shaking her head. “You’ve helped me enough already. I might not be used to the physical stuff like you and the others, but I’m no cream puff. So thank you, but I’ll manage on my own.”

“Then I’ll hang around until you’re done. It’s not safe being alone in a rundown building.”

Again she shook her head. “There’s a security guard downstairs and another doing patrols. I’ll be fine, honestly. I won’t have you staying back just to watch over me.”

He sighed. “All right. I can see you won’t budge.”

“You’re finally starting to get me.”

“Yeah, I am.”

His answer seemed loaded with a different meaning, but she didn’t want to dwell on it. She walked toward the door, waving over her shoulder to him. “Goodnight, Dane.”

“Goodnight, Holly. Don’t stay up too long.”

“I won’t.”

She returned to her room and resumed her attack on the wallpaper. Those twenty minutes with Dane had felt strange. Different. Like always, the sexual tension had been there all along, bubbling beneath the surface. But this time there’d been something else, an extra element, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

No time for navel-gazing, she told herself. She had too much work and not enough time.