for the women he usually lusted after. Dusty cowboy boots completed the look.
She took a sip of her coffee, staring straight ahead. Cameron grabbed the opportunity to take in the details of her face. High cheekbones and dark eyes betrayed a Native American heritage, but there was something else there, something that softened her stunning features just a bit.
“Is it considered polite to stare at people where you come from?” she asked, her gaze still fixed on the coffeepot. She slowly turned and gave him a cool look, her raven eyebrow raised quizzically.
“Sorry,” Cameron murmured. “I’ve just been stuck on a bus for the past few days with nothing interesting to look at.” He chuckled softly. “And you’re the absolute last thing I thought I’d see in this place.”
“And what exactly am I?”
“Interesting,” he murmured. Cameron took another sip of his beer. “Sorry. I’ll keep my eyes to myself.”
She turned away, as if embarrassed by the compliment. “You have been on a bus too long,” she said.
“I have.”
A long silence grew between them as they both stared straight ahead, enjoying their drinks.
“What are you doing in Vulture Creek?” she asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“Where are you from?”
“Seattle,” he said. “Washington.”
“I know where Seattle is,” she said with a smile.
“Of course you do,” he said. For someone who didn’t want to be noticed, she sure was trying awfully hard to strike up a conversation. Cameron had never been an expert at small talk, but just this once, it might be nice to make an effort. “Do you live around here?”
She seemed to be understandably suspicious of him. “Around,” she replied.
“That’s a little vague,” he said. “Around here? Around New Mexico? Around the Southwest?”
“Albuquerque,” she said.
“And what are you doing in Vulture Creek?” he asked.
She smiled. “It’s a long story.”
Cameron chuckled softly. “Well, that does it, then. I’ve found someone who is worse at small talk than I am. Maybe we should just stop talking altogether before we bore each other to death.”
She shrugged. “Fine by me. You’re the one who started the conversation.”
“Actually, you were the first one to speak, as I recall. I was just staring.”
“Well, I’m done speaking. Starting now.”
Millie appeared a few minutes later with Cameron’s lunch. She set the plate in front of him, then nodded toward his empty mug. “Another beer?”
“Sure,” Cameron said as he dug into his meal.
Millie turned to the woman sitting next to him. “What can I get for you, Sofie? Breakfast or lunch?”
“The meat loaf is good,” Cameron said between bites. Sofie. Was that short for Sofia? The name suited her, he thought to himself. Sofia, the dark, exotic beauty with the lush mouth and the sparkling eyes.
“I’ll have a grilled-cheese and a cup of soup,” Sofie said.
“Can I get you anything else?” Millie asked Cameron.
“A job. Do you know of anyone who’s looking to hire? I need work. And a place to stay.”
She nodded toward the group sitting at the tables near the front of the diner. “You could talk to the professor over there,” she said. “He has a dinosaur dig out in the desert. They’re always looking for help.”
Cameron gasped. “Really. A dig?” He shook his head in disbelief. Was this why his grand father had sent him to Vulture Creek? Did he know about the dig?
“They don’t pay,” Sofie said. “Other than meals. They’re looking for volunteers.”
“Aren’t you looking for someone, Sofie?” Millie asked.
“No,” Sofie said.
“Sure you are. You mentioned it yesterday. I distinctly remember you saying you didn’t have enough eyes or ears to cover all the ground you needed to. I do believe those were your words.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Cameron asked.
“She’s a private investigator,” Millie said. “Working on a big case.” The waitress wandered back to the kitchen, leaving Sofie and Cameron with another uncomfortable silence.
Cameron sighed softly. Though the dinosaur dig was intriguing, he’d have to find a way to make some real money. And if Sofie, the private investigator, had a job, then he ought to explore that option. Who knew if there would even be other opportunities in Vulture Creek?
“So do you or don’t you have a job you’re looking to fill?”
Millie set a cup of soup in front of Sofie. “Maybe you ought to interview him. He looks like a clever young man.” She winked at Cameron. “Careful, now. If you have any secrets, she’ll find a way to get them out of you.”
Cameron stifled a smile. Actually, that sounded like a lot of fun. Though he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, he was enjoying the back-and-forth with Sofie. Beneath that cool, composed exterior, Cameron suspected there was a fiery, passionate woman. He was curious to catch a glimpse of that side of her.
“Why are you here?” Sofie asked.
Cameron wiped his hands with his napkin and swallowed the mouthful of meat loaf. “I’m here because my grandfather sent me here. I’m supposed to take the next six weeks to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”
“Why would you need to do that?”
“My grandfather owns the family business. I work there. He needs to make some decisions about the future of that business. He wants us all to be sure of where we want to be.”
“All?”
“Me and my three brothers. We all work for the company.”
“What do you do? I mean, for a job?” she replied.
“I design sailing yachts,” he said.
Sofie laughed and nodded to Millie. “Well, we have a lot of sailing yachts here in the desert,” she said. “I really don’t think I have—”
“Sofie,” Cameron said.
She stopped talking and watched him warily. “Yes?”
“I’m a smart guy. I’m pretty sure I can handle
