A Holiday Romance. Carrie Alexander

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A Holiday Romance - Carrie Alexander Mills & Boon Cherish

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licked raspberry purée from the corner of her mouth. “Bring it on.”

      “That’s what I like to hear.” Chloe consulted the folder. “What do you say to a hike up Camelback Mountain? There’s a group leaving tomorrow morning at six.”

      “That early?”

      “You know what they say. Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun.” The sally seemed forced, as if Chloe had used it many times before. She wrinkled her nose. “Okay. The truth is, we have to make adjustments for the summer months. It’s our off-season and we’re at lower capacity. Most of the guests only want to hang out at the water park.” She smiled again. “You’re really livening up my day.”

      Alice took a breath. “All right. I’m game. But I also wouldn’t say no if you scheduled me a few siestas.”

      Chloe dashed off a note. “I’ll leave you plenty of downtime. Now, what about cycling? Do you know how to ride a bike?”

      “Yes.” Alice was relieved that for once she could answer in the affirmative. Bicycles were popular on the island, which was small enough that cars were more of an encumbrance than a convenience. She pedaled the same Schwinn she’d had since she was fourteen, complete with a wicker basket for toting home groceries and buckets of clams.

      “Then I’ll sign you up for mountain biking. I’ve gone myself, and it’s a super experience, just super. But remember to stick to the marked paths or you might find yourself skidding down a mountainside. The sandstone can be kind of slick.”

      Alice hadn’t counted on biking being an adventure sport. “That sounds fine,” she said slowly, “but is there anything I can try that doesn’t risk broken bones?”

      Chloe considered her lists. “There’s trail riding. The horses are very tame. How did your lesson with Denver go?”

      “Denver,” Alice said. “Wow.”

      “I know.” Chloe giggled like the girlfriend she was rapidly becoming. “Isn’t he a hoot?”

      “He’s a hoot,” Alice agreed. “Except I was thinking more about his…um…”

      “Good jeans?”

      “Yeah.” Alice’s eyes went to the wide rattan paddles of the fan circulating above the table. The ceiling was painted a cool green-blue. “They were very nice jeans.”

      “Tight,” Chloe said with admiration.

      “Is he single?” The question was bold for Alice. She wasn’t usually open about being interested in a man.

      Chloe’s response was emphatic. “One hundred percent.”

      “A player?”

      “Mmm.”

      “That’s what I suspected. I mean, he was flirting. With me. ”

      Chloe’s brows went up. “Why not you?”

      “I’m not really the kind of woman men flirt with all that often.”

      “I don’t see why not. You’re cute.”

      Alice did feel as if she’d at least made it onto the “cute” scale, even if she was hovering at the low end. The new clothing she’d bought for the trip was a minor factor. Shedding her Osprey Island persona as everyone’s favorite pal and all-around substitute worker was major. She was not nearly as drab and used-up as she’d been feeling the past few years.

      Even her mother would have approved. Dorothy Potter had fretted over her youngest daughter’s lack of a social life, but she’d wanted Alice close. The small sum she’d set aside in her will as Alice’s “mad money” had been a total surprise.

      Alice decided to confide. “I did have a drink with Kyle Jarreau last night.”

      “Kyle Jarreau?” Chloe opened and closed her mouth, emitting only a faint squawk. She leaned over the table. “You’re serious? Kyle Jarreau? ”

      “Is that so strange?”

      “Hell, yeah. He doesn’t…um, well, he just doesn’t. ”

      “It was only a friendly gesture.” But they’d flirted, or at least Alice had. Unless she’d built their twenty minutes together into a legend in her own mind. “He wanted to welcome me to the resort.”

      “Ohhh, then, that’s different.” Chloe still seemed puzzled.

      Alice dropped her gaze. “He was nice.”

      “Mmm. I don’t think of him that way, but then, he’s my superior. And I’m only a cog in the wheel, far beneath his notice. It’s just that I’ve heard how he’s very strict about…”

      Alice waited. Chloe’s hesitation seemed uncharacteristic.

      The young woman blinked. “About everything, I suppose.”

      Alice was oddly let down. “I sort of had that impression.”

      “See,” Chloe went on, lowering her voice, “it’s that Prince Montez has this policy, all spelled out in the employee handbook actually, about how employees are not to ‘associate’ with the resort guests. Socially, that is. When I came aboard, I was told that engaging in hanky-panky would get me fired. No exceptions. Jarreau’s edict. Except for…”

      Alice’s pulse picked up. Her lips felt strangely tender.

      “…workers like Denver, for instance…” Chloe continued with a small grimace, and Alice’s expectations sank. They’d been absurd, anyway. Had she really expected Kyle to make an exception for her?

      “He flirts very openly. And no one says a thing. He’s practically encouraged, because the female guests like it. Or the servers, for instance, and the pool attendants. They depend on tips, so of course some of them use what they’ve got to act extrafriendly with guests.” Chloe sat back. “But of course no one crosses the line. Not without consequences.”

      Alice traced a finger along the edge of the waxed pine table. “I see.”

      “I’ve said too much.”

      “No, I’m glad I know. Not that I was taking Denver seriously. He was pretty obvious.” Alice flicked her bangs out of her eyes. Kyle was another matter. “But I suppose I did like it. I was flattered.”

      “Sure, why not?” Chloe’s smile was a bit strained. “Enjoy the heck out of it. You’re on vacation!”

       The cowboy tradition is alive and well in the American Southwest. Visit the authentic frontier town, Rawhide, at Wildhorse Pass.

      July 22

      Dear Jay,

      Well, your big sister made it through her first full day of vacation relatively intact, except for sweating away about five pounds in the heat and suffering a bruised ego after a fall—my first attempt at horseback riding. It’s not as easy as it

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