they landed on their latest guest. It would appear that being left in the lurch by the father of her child wasn’t enough to make Sandy immune to Mr. DeLuca’s charming smile.
“Do you need something, Sandy?” Reese asked, hoping the girl would quit openly ogling the man.
Sandy came to a stop next to them. “I...uh...finished cleaning all of the rooms.” She tore her gaze from Mr. DeLuca and turned to Reese. “Do you need anything else today? I don’t mind staying longer.”
“Thanks. But we’re good. Enjoy your evening off.”
“Um...sure. Thank you.” Sandy almost tripped over her own feet as she kept glancing over her shoulder at Mr. DeLuca.
Reese turned back to him, refusing to let his tanned features, mesmerizing blue gaze and engaging smile turn her into a starstruck teenager. “Where were we?”
“We had just resolved my accommodations until the wedding party checks out. Now, if you’ll show me to my room.”
She pressed her lips firmly together, holding back her response until she gave it some thought. The truth was most women would probably stumble over themselves to have this hunk of a man sleep in their bed. But she wasn’t most women. Men couldn’t be trusted—no matter how well you thought you knew them.
But this arrangement was all about business—nothing more. What was a few nights on their old, lumpy couch? As it was, she didn’t sleep all that much anymore. The concerns about meeting this month’s payroll on top of the loan payment kept her tossing and turning most nights.
“I must warn you that the room is nothing special. In fact, it’s rather plain.”
“Is it clean?”
She nodded. The linens had just been changed that morning. “But I’m certain it won’t be up to the standards you’re used to or even the normal standards of The Willows. And...and—”
“And what?”
She shook her head. “Nothing important.”
She couldn’t bring herself to let on that it bothered her to share her tiny apartment with him. And no matter how much she reminded herself that it was business, it still felt personal having him slide between her sheets and lay his head on her pillow. Her pulse picked up its pace. Her gaze strayed to his bare ring finger before she realized her actions and refocused on a nondescript spot just over his left shoulder.
Maybe if he wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous she wouldn’t be overreacting. But for the first time since she’d started the inn, her hormones were standing up and taking a definite interest in a man. Not that he’d be interested in a college dropout like herself—even if quitting school hadn’t been a choice but rather a necessity.
He looked pointedly at her. “If you have something else on your mind, you might as well get it out in the open now.”
Heat crept up her neck as her fingers tightened around the check. No way was she confessing to her nonprofessional thoughts. “I was just concerned about where the rest of your party would be staying.”
“There’s no one else coming. I am the only guest.”
“Just you?” Her gaze moved to the check that was now a bit wrinkled. “But this deposit covers all six rooms.”
“I am a man who values his privacy.”
That or he was so filthy rich that he didn’t have the common sense God gave a flea. But hey, who was she to argue with some sheikh or eccentric recluse?
But the money in her hand came with some sticky strings. She’d have to open her home up to him for five days and four nights. She suddenly regretted not doing more with the upkeep of the apartment. But her limited funds had to go toward the debts her father had left as her inheritance. Soon the creditors would be calling and she wasn’t sure what she would tell them.
She glanced up at the staircase and balcony with the large stained-glass window. Her mother’s family had owned the mansion for generations. She didn’t want to think about the tailspin her mother would go into if they had to turn this place over to the bank—not now that her mother had almost recovered from her father’s deception. So if it took bunking with this man to secure the necessary funds, she didn’t see where she had much choice in the matter.
“Well, Mr. DeLuca, it looks like you’ve rented yourself a mansion.”
What would it be like having a sexy roommate? Did he sleep in boxers? Or perhaps in the buff? And more importantly, did he walk in his sleep? Heat swirled in her chest and rushed up her neck. After all, a glimpse wouldn’t hurt anyone.
The lines on the man’s tanned face eased and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his full lips. “Now that we’re housemates, you may call me Alex.”
She wasn’t so sure getting personal with him would help her roving thoughts, but she wasn’t about to turn away his kindness. “And you can call me Reese.”
THIS WAS WHERE he was to stay?
Alex followed Reese into the tiny apartment. He wondered who lived here or if it was just kept as a spare unit. Although seeing the older furniture and the coziness of the place, it didn’t resemble any of the inn’s photos he’d observed online. This place definitely wasn’t meant for guests.
Reese swung open the door to a small bedroom. “This is where you can sleep.”
He stepped up behind her in the doorway and peered over her shoulder. The decorations consisted of miniature teddy bears of all colors and designs. He’d never seen so many stuffed animals in one room. It was definitely interesting decor.
The most important feature was that it had a place for him to sleep. In the middle of the room stood a double bed sporting a royal-blue duvet with white throw pillows. Definitely nothing fancy, but at this point it didn’t matter. He didn’t think he could take one more step.
And to be honest, staying in these private quarters, as primitive as they were, would only make him that much harder to find. It’d been way too easy to tease the press with a juicy morsel of information about how he’d lost his heart to an American. But what no one knew was that he wanted no part of the L word. He’d witnessed firsthand how devastating it could be when you’ve lost the one person you loved with all of your heart. He refused to let himself become that vulnerable.
“Dinner is at six.” Reese backed out of the doorway. “Do you need anything else?”
He stepped past her and hefted his suitcase onto the bed. “Your mother mentioned the room has a private bath.”
Reese’s brows rose sharply. “She was mistaken.”
“I don’t think so. She sounded quite certain.”
Reese crossed her arms and tilted her head until their gazes met. “Well, she was mistaken, because she was talking about her room and she’s not about to give it up to you or anyone.”
“You seem very protective of your mother.”
“She’s
