A Holiday Romance. Carrie Alexander
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Her cheeks were pink, her eyes large and velvety dark, dominating her oval face. She was almost pretty. “It’s nothing. Only a standard list of things to do and places to go while I’m here.”
“Then it can’t be embarrassing.”
“That depends. You don’t think it’s embarrassing for a thirty-four-year-old woman to admit that she has about as much experience as a potted plant?”
Kyle grinned. “I doubt that’s true.”
She returned the grin, erasing every trace of exhaustion and sadness from her expression. “Nearly.”
He wanted to touch her. Instead, he put his elbows on the table and folded his hands against his chin, holding her gaze while he dug a thumbnail into his bottom lip. “Read me something off the list.”
After a moment, she looked away, blushing even more. “I’ll find an innocuous item.” She pulled the pocket notebook from her bag and flipped the pages where her scrawled handwriting looped.
She saw him peeking and shielded the list from view. She cleared her throat. “Here’s one—see a rattlesnake.”
He raised his eyebrows. “At least you don’t want to pet it.”
“It’s silly, I know. But I’ve never seen a rattlesnake. We don’t have them in Maine.”
“What else is on the list?”
“Get a picture taken with a saguaro cactus,” she read. “That’s not very exciting, is it?”
“Don’t pet the cactus, either.”
She rolled her eyes, but her shoulders relaxed and she took another drink of champagne. Pages turned. “Hmm.” Her smile was almost flirtatious. “I can cross off this one.” She searched in her purse for a pen.
“What is it?”
She clicked the pen. “Drinks on the patio with a handsome stranger.”
“You’re making that up.”
“No, really. See?” She held up the book, showing him the line she’d drawn through number fourteen.
“I was number fourteen?”
“Well after the rattlesnake.” Her eyes met his. “I was working up to the really good ones.”
Warmth seeped into his face. He was glad he’d already loosened his tie. “What’s number fifteen? Maybe we can knock that one off, too.”
She turned the page. “Meet a cowboy.”
Kyle frowned. “Your fantasies aren’t very evolved.”
“That kinda feels like an insult, but I know what you mean.” She laughed. “I suppose I’m a slow starter. Except, well, they’re not fantasies, are they? Fantasies are…”
“Kiss a cowboy?” he suggested, knowing he shouldn’t. Her face turned even redder and she thrust the notebook back into her purse. He’d thought a drink with Alice Potter would be harmless, a mild conversation about resort amenities and the weather forecast. He’d thought he was doing it to make her feel better.
Not to make himself feel human.
Human? Try feeling like a man.
She was not a stunner, not sophisticated or smooth. Nothing like Jenna. But she was clever and gentle. She brought out his protective instincts.
“Why did you come here?” he asked. “This resort, specifically.”
She was concentrating on her champagne, taking tiny sip after tiny sip. “Is this a customer survey?”
“Curiosity. You’re different from our usual guest.”
Her head came up. “Meaning I’m not seventy years old and wealthy?”
“And you’re…single. We’re not known as a singles resort, even though I’ve tried to expand our market.” He was striving to sound professional, which had never been a problem before.
“It’s not a spectacular story,” Alice said. “I just needed to get away from home. One day I was surfing the Internet, looking for interesting places I’d never been to, when I landed on a site that specializes in vacation-home exchanges. Long story short, I swapped two weeks with a condo owner. He’s staying at my cottage in Maine.” She toyed with the stem of her glass, her head bent to one side so her neck was exposed.
Kyle’s eyes lingered. “I see. So you’re in one of the condos.” Master of stating the obvious.
No wonder she’d made the seventy-year-old comment. The Prince Montez chain had plunged into the thriving vacation-condo market as an adjunct to their luxury resort hotels. While the condos were technically under Kyle’s command, that wasn’t an area where he needed to spend a lot of his time. Other than the occasional turnover of ownership or HOA—Home Owner’s Association—tussle, their management was a matter of maintaining the status quo.
“I don’t get over to the condos very often,” he said.
That meant he wasn’t likely to come across Alice after tonight. Probably a good thing. One “welcome” drink was fine, but he couldn’t afford to give her the idea that he was interested in her. The PM policy against fraternization between guests and employees was strictly enforced—by him. Although romantic relationships among employees was also frowned on, they happened more frequently than he would have preferred. Take Gavin, for example.
“I’m kept busy here,” he added, not sure why he felt the need to explain himself to Alice, except that she looked almost forlorn. A fringe of overly long bangs had fallen across her forehead, into her eyes.
“Yes.” She studied her fingers, caged around the glass.
Kyle clenched his jaw. He had fired two employees for fraternization. One a guy who’d played cabana boy a little too well, following up on the offers of flirtatious female guests, even after several warnings. The other had been an office worker, though fraternization had been the least of her crimes. She’d also been more than an employee to Kyle. His sister, in fact. Making her flouting of the rules a most uncomfortable situation.
But he’d done what he had to do. And he would do it again, even if that meant letting down sweet Alice Potter with her nursery rhyme name and her large dark eyes that held so much expectation and hope.
His fault, damn it. She’d have had no hopes if he hadn’t already stepped over the line.
“Thank you for sharing my company,” he said, rising to his feet. For making me number fourteen. “I enjoyed it.”
She looked up at him, blinking, then brushed her hair aside. “I did, too,” she said softly.
“Please let…let the staff know if you need anything at all during your stay with us.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Would