she wanted to make sure she understood his meaning. “So you’d rather I didn’t mention anything of what you’ve been through to the others in the wedding party?”
He shrugged. “I just don’t see the point. This weekend is supposed to be about Stuart and Kim, not me.”
The sheer nobility of that sentiment made her weak in the knees. Most men would welcome an audience so they could revel in the glory of their accomplishments, but this particular man didn’t want his spectacular story to overshadow the wedding.
Then Kate realized something else. He’d trusted her with the tale, and now they shared a secret. She would be the only one at the wedding who would know that he was a bonafide hero. That was pretty darned cool.
“Okay,” she said. “And may I say that’s a wonderful attitude.”
“Thanks, but I don’t see it as anything spe—”
“It is,” she said softly. “Now why don’t you go over and relax on that sofa by the window and let me check you in?”
“Listen, I’m really fine. I can check myself in.”
She put a hand on his arm, and her gold bangles jingled. “Yes, you could, but everything’s all arranged, anyway, and it would be my pleasure.” She looked into his eyes. “I promise not to bring up your ordeal again if you’ll agree to let me pamper you a little.”
His blue eyes warmed again as they had back in the car when he’d awakened. “A man would be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”
HUGH DID AS HE WAS told and eased down upon a red and white patterned sofa just as a trim woman in a print blouse and khaki skirt came into the room and greeted them. Hugh stood up again.
“We’re with the Cooper-Thorpe wedding party,” Kate said. “I believe you have a room available for Mr. Armstrong.”
“Certainly.” The woman took her place behind an antique desk.
Kate glanced over at Hugh. “Just relax,” she said, waving him back to the sofa. “I’ll handle it.”
Harry must have gotten his phone message, Hugh thought. Otherwise no one would have known to reserve him a room here. Oh, yeah, it was becoming very obvious that old Harry was trying to instigate a little romance between his brother and the maid of honor. The plan was almost too obvious, considering that Kate was totally Hugh’s type.
Sitting down again, he used the time to study Kate. She wasn’t very tall, only about five-five, but those snug capri-length jeans and high-heeled mules made her look taller. He had no idea how women maneuvered in those things or even how they kept them on. It was one of the sweet mysteries of life. However they managed to navigate in shoes with no back, some women had a flair for it, and Kate was one of those who could turn the whole exercise into poetry.
A multipaned window behind him looked out on the bustling harbor. He gave it a quick glance and hoped his room would have a different view. Boats and water didn’t hold much appeal for him today, although he liked the idea of staying in this historic inn. Walking from the parking lot he’d smelled the saltwater tang of the bay and the aroma of fish being cooked in the area’s restaurants. But in here, the dominant scent was of bread baking, which was more comforting to his battered body.
Still, he was happy to be here, harbor view and all. Visiting New England always reminded him of working on The Patriot, which brought good memories. He’d enjoyed getting to know Mel. And there had been a sexy member of the camera crew, Charise. He’d enjoyed getting to know her, too.
But Kate made him forget all about Charise, or any other woman he’d been with in recent memory. As he pretended to lounge casually on the wing-backed sofa, his thoughts were anything but casual. Kate had offered to pamper him. He wondered if that meant what he’d love it to mean.
In L.A. he’d know exactly what to expect after a woman made such an offer, especially when she had that special look in her eyes that he’d seen in Kate’s. From the fit of her jeans to the daring neckline of her T-shirt, she radiated sexual confidence. Except for her height, she had the figure to be a runway model. Thank God that no longer described a woman with a flat-chested, boyish shape. He’d been delighted to see that trend disappear. Kate’s breasts were perfect for the new, more womanly look.
She’d taken off her purse, one of those sling types that looked big enough to carry a small child, and propped it beside her on the floor. As she leaned over to sign the guest book, her cropped T-shirt rode up to reveal a strip of ivory skin. Hugh gazed at that tempting spot, focusing on the slight depression formed by the small of her back.
He had an almost uncontrollable urge to go over and rest his hand against her exposed skin. The heel of his hand would fit into that warm niche, while his fingers would curve around her waist. She would be soft to the touch, humming with energy.
He imagined her leaning into the pressure of his hand and turning her head to smile at him. His groin tightened. He’d have to control those thoughts, though, on the chance that he was misreading the signals she was giving him. Still, he couldn’t believe that she looked at every guy the way she’d looked at him back there in the car.
There was the slight possibility that the atmosphere of the wedding had put her in a romantic mood. But if Harry had sent Kate on purpose, he would also have briefed her, letting her know that Hugh wasn’t interested in anything serious.
Maybe Kate wasn’t, either. Hugh had discovered that quite a few women in their twenties were focused on their careers and had no intention of tying themselves to a husband or even a steady boyfriend. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that Kate felt that way, too.
From the way she’d talked about her photography, he guessed that she was dissatisfied with the status quo and wanted a change, even if she wasn’t quite ready to admit that. Women in the midst of a career change weren’t usually eager to settle down to a steady relationship. If she fit in that category, they were a perfect match for the weekend.
She finished signing the guest book and murmured something to the other woman that Hugh couldn’t hear. The woman glanced over at him, so he could be fairly sure the conversation concerned him. Curious, he strained to hear what was being said, but noise filtering in from the busy street made it impossible.
The woman made a phone call, then another. Finally she shrugged and looked up at Kate with an air of regret. Whatever Kate had been trying to cook up, it hadn’t worked.
There was more hushed conversation, and then Kate turned and came toward him, a key folder in one hand. “We tried to arrange for an in-room massage for you,” she said. “But both recommended people were booked. If we were in Providence I’d have more of a selection, but I hate to take potluck.”
He stood. “No problem. But it was a nice idea.” A very nice idea. He was damned stiff, and a massage would have helped him be ready for…anything.
“I can upgrade you to a suite with a whirlpool,” she said. “If you want it, that is. The only problem is that it’s a little guest cottage out back instead of in the main building here, so there’s no view of the harbor. No view at all, actually.”
“To be honest, I didn’t want to look at water and sailboats, anyway.” And a whirlpool sounded like heaven to him. He wondered how big the whirlpool was, and if Kate…no, he was getting ahead of himself.
She
