Shelter In The Tropics. Cara Lockwood
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The formality wasn’t lost on Tack. He’d been kicked back from first-name basis to formal stranger. As the two walked into the hotel’s lobby, Tack felt a cool blast of air-conditioning, and the air smelled like coconut oil. White marble tile lined the floor, and dark wicker furniture made up the spacious check-in area. Tasteful, he thought. A man with gray, nearly white hair, wearing khaki Bermuda shorts, sprang up from the love seat.
“You okay, Cate?” he asked in gruff voice, concern etched in his face.
“Mark, I’m fine. Uh...Mr. Reeves helped with the flat.” Cate turned and nodded. “Mr. Reeves...this is Mark Gurda. He co-owns the resort with me.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tack said, and extended a hand, noticing that Mark eyed him with suspicion, taking in his build and his seabag.
“Marines, huh?” Mark said, but it didn’t sound like he approved.
“Yep.” Tack nodded. “Retired, though. If you can ever be retired from the marines.” He’d leave out the part about the dishonorable discharge. No need to split hairs.
Mark gave a curt nod but quickly shifted his attention back to Cate. “I...need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
Cate hesitated. The man wasn’t just a business partner, that much was clear. And Tack knew more than anyone that being married didn’t mean he wasn’t sleeping with Cate. He’d been hired to catch more than one cheating spouse. As Tack glanced down at Cate’s long, tanned legs, he thought, Who wouldn’t throw away marriage vows for that?
“Mr. Reeves, if you’ll head to the front desk...” Mark nodded curtly away from them, leaving no mistake about his meaning. Get lost. Tack eyed the older man. He hadn’t heard of Gurda before now. She must’ve met him after she’d run away, and somehow convinced him to invest in the resort. But, given all she was said to have stolen, why would she need a coinvestor? Tack would find out.
“May I help you, sir?” called a pretty fortyish woman with short, bobbed hair and a quick smile. She stood behind the front desk. Reluctantly, Tack left Mark, who was speaking in low tones to Cate about something he wanted to overhear. “Don’t mind my husband,” she added. “He’s gruff on the outside, but a teddy bear on the inside. I’m Carol Gurda. Welcome to St. Anthony’s Resort.” She tapped on the computer behind the desk, and when she looked up again, Tack was leaning on the counter near her. “Oh...my...you’re tall.” She craned her neck to look up at him. “Bet you get that a lot.”
Tack shrugged. “A little bit.” He grinned. While Carol looked up his reservation, Tack couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Mark and Cate. They’d walked off a few more paces and stood by the window, talking in low tones about something a little too serious for Tack’s liking. Lover’s tiff?
“Cate’s great, isn’t she? Just a doll,” Carol gushed, watching Tack watching Cate.
“She’s captured my attention, that’s for sure,” Tack said, which wasn’t a lie.
Carol eyed him with interest. “You’re staying for a week?” she asked him.
“So far,” he said smoothly. “But I’ve got a flexible schedule, so could I extend the trip if I wanted to?”
Carol brightened further. “Absolutely, you can.”
“I might want to get to know one particular local better.” He grinned at Carol and she returned the smile.
“Cate? You know, Cate’s just the best. I keep hoping she’ll find someone, though my husband tells me to quit meddling. That it’s none of my business, but look at her. Why is she single?”
“Indeed. She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” Tack said. This was also not a lie.
Carol beamed as she grabbed the newly minted key card from the register. “Beautiful inside and out. She really is a sweetheart. Honestly.”
Here’s someone else who thinks she’s nice. Tack had interviewed every person he could find who knew Cate, down to her high school algebra teacher. They all said the same thing—about how sweet she was. Still, people could be fooled. Besides, what sweet person would take a son away from his father? It didn’t make sense.
“Are you single?” Carol asked, glancing at Tack’s empty ring finger.
“You running a matchmaking service?” Tack joked, and Carol grinned.
“Maybe.” Carol sighed. “I just want Cate to be happy. She’s been very—” she hesitated “—unlucky.”
“Her husband dying.”
Carol hesitated a beat too long.
“Right.” Carol nodded. She kept her eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of her.
“Sometimes feeling normal again takes a while,” he added. “My dad died when I was twelve, and it took me years to get over it.”
Instant pity registered on Carol’s face, and her mothering instincts seemed to take over. “Oh, you poor thing.”
“Bad things happen sometimes.” He shrugged. “If I did want to get to know her better...” Tack let the insinuation linger. “What would you suggest?”
Carol’s eyes brightened. “Well, dinner for guests starts at seven, but Cate...she always eats in the dining room around six.” Carol lowered her voice and leaned over the counter. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Hear what? You told me what time dinner was, but darned if I just couldn’t remember.” They both shared a little laugh. “I’ll just be early to be on the safe side,” Tack said, exchanging a conspiratorial grin with Carol.
“I like you already,” Carol said, and handed him his room key.
HE’S GONE. MAYBE I can avoid him for the coming week he’s here, Cate thought as she watched Tack’s tall, lean form leave the lobby and felt a little breath of relief escape her. Something about him... And it wasn’t just his intelligent eyes and capable hands, either. Something about him just screamed trouble. Just because she went all gooey in his arms didn’t mean she ought to ignore her instincts. They’ve got me this far. I’ll need to keep my guard up. Cate almost laughed to herself. When did she ever let her guard down? She’d chosen a life where she now had to look over her shoulder every day. But it was better than the life she had with Rick. There was no doubt in her mind about that.
“Did you hear me?” Mark asked her as he drew her attention back to him. “We’re in the red, Cate. Big time. I’m not sure how we’re going to keep the lights on next month if we don’t get more guests here.”
Cate sighed. This was becoming nearly a daily conversation with Mark. “I know.”
“We need to do more marketing,” Mark insisted, tapping his open palm. “More Yelp. More