she looked startled. He’d startled himself—since when did he shake hands with waitresses? But she took his hand in a firm, businesslike grip. He noted she wasn’t wearing a ring of any kind.
‘Hi, Sam Lancaster,’ she said, her teasing tone making a caress of the everyday syllables of his name. ‘Is everything okay at your table?’
He cleared his throat. ‘F...fine.’
That was all he managed to choke out. Not one other word of that carefully thought out repartee.
Damn it.
He was a man used to managing a large, successful company. To never being short of female company if he didn’t want it. But he couldn’t seem to get it together in front of this girl.
He realised he’d gripped her warm, slender hand for a moment too long and he released it.
She glanced down at the menu on the table, then back up at him, the smile still dancing in her eyes. She knew. Of course she knew. A woman like this would be used to the most powerful of men stuttering in her presence. ‘Have you ordered lunch yet? I can recommend the grilled snapper, freshly caught this morning.’
‘Thank you, no. I’ll order when my friend gets to the table.’
One winged auburn eyebrow quirked. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘A lady friend?’ She flushed. ‘Forgive me. None of my business, of course.’
‘Nothing to forgive,’ he said, pleased he’d given her cause to wonder about the sex of his lunch companion. ‘While I’m waiting for him, I’m admiring the view of the harbour,’ he said. ‘It’s really something.’
But the view of her was so much more enticing.
‘No charge for the view,’ she said. ‘It’s on the house.’ She laughed, a low, husky laugh that made him think of slow, sensual kisses on lazy summer afternoons.
He couldn’t look at her in case he gave away the direction of his thoughts. Instead he glanced to the full-length windows that faced east. ‘I reckon it must be one of the most beautiful harbours on the south coast.’
‘Hey, just on the south coast? I say the most beautiful in the whole of Australia,’ she said with mock indignation.
‘Okay. So it’s the very best harbour in Australia—if not the world,’ he agreed, playing along with her.
‘That’s better,’ she said with a dimpled smile.
‘I like the dolphins too.’
‘You mean the real ones or the fake ones plastered on every building in town?’
‘I didn’t see them on every building,’ he said. ‘But I thought the dolphin rubbish bins everywhere had character.’
She put her hand on her forehead in a theatrical gesture of mock despair. ‘Oh, please don’t talk to me about those dolphin bins. People around here get into fights over whether they should go or they should stay, now Dolphin Bay has expanded so much. It was such a sleepy town when they were originally put up.’
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘Me? I have to confess to being a total dolphin-bin freak. I love ’em! I adored them when I was a kid and would defend them to the last dorsal fin if anyone tried to touch them.’
She mimicked standing with her arms outstretched behind her as if there was something she was shielding from harm. The pretend-fierce look on her face was somewhat negated by her dimples.
In turn, Sam assumed a mock stance of defence. ‘I’m afraid. Very afraid. I won’t hurt your dolphin bins.’
Her peal of laughter rang out over the hum of conversation and clatter of cutlery. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ She pretend-pouted. ‘I’m harmless, I assure you.’
Harmless? She was far from harmless when it came to this instant assault on his senses.
‘Lucky I said I liked the bins, then,’ he said.
‘Indeed. I might not have been responsible for my actions if you’d derided them.’
He laughed. She was enchanting.
‘Seriously, though,’ she continued. ‘I’ve lived here for most of my life and I never tire of it, dolphins and all. April is one of the best times to enjoy this area. The water’s still warm and the Easter crowds have gone home. Are you passing through?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m staying in Dolphin Bay for the next week. I’ll check in to the hotel after lunch.’
‘That’s great to hear.’ She hit him with that smile again. ‘I’m the deputy manager. It’ll be wonderful to have you as our guest.’
Could he read something into that? Did she feel even just a hint of the instant attraction he felt for her? Or was she just being officially enthusiastic?
‘Let me know if there’s anything you need,’ she said.
A dinner date with you?
Gorgeous Kate Parker had probably spent longer than she should at his table. There were other customers for her to meet and greet. But Sam couldn’t think of an excuse to keep her there any longer. He was going to have to bite the bullet and ask her out. For a drink; for dinner; any opportunity to get to know her.
‘Kate, I—’
He was just about to suggest a date when his mobile phone buzzed to notify him of a text message. He ignored it. It buzzed again.
‘Go on, please check it,’ Kate said, taking a step back from his table. ‘It might be important.’
Sam gritted his teeth. At this moment nothing—even a message from the multi-national company that was bidding for a takeover of Lancaster & Son Construction—was more important than ensuring he saw this girl again. He pulled the phone from his pocket and scanned the text.
He looked up at Kate. ‘My friend Jesse is running late,’ he grumbled. ‘I hope he gets here soon. After a four-hour trip from Sydney, I’m starving.’
Kate’s green eyes widened. ‘Jesse?’ Her voice sounded strangled. ‘You mean...Jesse Morgan?’
‘Do you know him? I guess you do.’
She nodded. ‘Yes. It’s a small town. I...I know him well.’
So Kate was a friend of Jesse’s? That made getting to know her so much easier. Suddenly she wasn’t just staff at the hotel and he a guest; they were connected through a mutual friend.
It was the best piece of news he’d had all day.
* * *
Kate was reeling. Hotter-than-hot Sam Lancaster was a friend of Jesse’s? That couldn’t, couldn’t be. What unfair quirk of coincidence was this?
Despite her initial misgiving about Sam, she’d found she liked his smile, his easy repartee. She’d
