It was so much more than that, but Morgan knew he wouldn’t understand until they began their project. Better not to mention he wouldn’t be able to breathe without her knowing. “Close enough.”

“You pick out their throw pillows, too? What happens if they’re the wrong color?”

The jab didn’t bother her. Morgan was used to the critics, but with a long trail of success stories and a book full of celebrity clients, she could afford to be gracious. “Yes, I pick out the throw pillows. And I never make a wrong decision.”

“Never?”

She calmly met his gaze and refused to veer off course, even though that strange breathlessness was seizing her lungs again. The man was so very . . . vital. “Never.”

“Must be nice.” He remained silent for a while, but she waited him out, her face smoothed out in a mask of endless patience. Morgan noticed he seemed to have no twitchy habits. She’d studied men in countless confrontation situations, and most of them slipped up, giving her a sign of how they dealt with emotion. Some paced. Others tapped an object or finger. Some shifted in their seats or crossed a leg over an ankle or beat a foot against the floor.

Caleb Pierce never moved. Didn’t blink. Just kept a stillness of thought and body that both fascinated and impressed her. He would be a worthy opponent.

What would he be like as a lover?

Demanding. Patient. Hot.

How sad her career was so important, she’d forgotten to take care of her sex life. Of course, the man was a raw specimen of primitive male, from his rock-hard body to those come-and-let-me-do-very-bad-things-to-you eyes. Wasn’t her fault she hadn’t enjoyed a lover for a long time. She was too busy. And most of the men she met were off-limits as her clients or not worth her energy. Morgan didn’t think she was picky. She just wasn’t one to scratch a physical itch and walk off in the morning, and with her job traveling all over the place, settling down wasn’t in her immediate future. Her rambling thoughts got cut off by his sudden, terse words.

“As interesting as this conversation has been, I must end it. I’m sorry, Ms. Raines, but my original answer of no stands.”

“Why? The pay is quite generous.”

His brow rose in mockery. “Money is nice but not the deciding factor.”

“Tell me what you want to take this job, and I’ll get it for you.”

His gaze heated. “I’m tempted to test your claim.”

She barely managed not to roll her eyes. “Please be original, Mr. Pierce. I’m sure you have much higher demands than me.”

Was that an expression of humor flicking over his face? No, just a shadow thrown by the window behind him. Morgan already figured he’d have a wretched sense of humor. He seemed way too intense and focused for a few light laughs or jokes. “I’m sure you’re right. But you’re not understanding me. You won’t be able to meet my price, because I don’t have one. Pierce Brothers is already overbooked, and I’ve just signed an important client I’ll be involved with for the rest of the year. When I personally oversee a job, I never take another one. I like to concentrate on the one I’m with in all aspects.”

The words drilled at her seemed filled with buckets of meaning, all leading to sex. But Morgan now accepted that Caleb Pierce turned her on, and she’d have to get over it. She had no time for silly weak bodily reactions just because she was hot for him. Their short conversation already confirmed she wasn’t his type anyway.

Morgan sifted through his explanation, probing the holes and what she needed to do so that he’d change his mind. “Who’s your client?” she asked.

“That’s confidential.”

“No, it’s not. You just don’t want to tell me.”

“You have excellent instincts.”

Morgan pursed her lips and thought hard. “You have a large team. You couldn’t shift your assistants to take care of your other client? The Rosenthals will be quite grateful. They’re known for calling in huge favors, so Pierce Brothers will be set up for a long, long time.”

“I don’t have that problem now,” he pointed out. “We have more business than we know what to do with. I pick and choose what jobs I want to work on and don’t have to deal with any horse heads in my bed.”

His acerbic wit was almost fun. Almost. Her instincts screamed that he was lying to her. He wasn’t booked up. He just didn’t want the project. A faint smile coasted over her lips. “You knew from the first you wouldn’t take on this job, didn’t you? Why are you so against it?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I like building houses people will actually want to live in and settle into? Houses they can actually love? I know what your clients really want. They want a cushy home to settle into rather than a cold hotel. They’ll spend buckets of money, move in, and stay six months. Then the novelty will have worn off, and they’ll move on to the next interesting location, and all my blood, sweat, and tears would’ve been for nothing. Sorry, not interested.”

Fascinated, she leaned in, studying the distaste on his face. Goodness, he was more passionate about his work than she’d imagined. A faint pang of regret coursed through her. He was right. Her celebrity clients didn’t really care about a home they could raise children and build a history with. It was a means to an end, and when the film wrapped up, they’d probably move back overseas to Europe or to sunny, perfect California.

Morgan hardened her heart against such silly emotions. Her job was simple. Only Pierce Brothers would be able to take on such a complicated project and do it perfectly. She’d done the research. In the Northeast, they were simply the best, their reputation spreading far and wide even after losing their father, who had been the patriarch and main force behind the company. Already time was ticking, and they needed to break ground soon to meet her deadline.