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"John? We're ready," a woman called from somewhere out in the sunshine.

"Looks like they're all loaded up," John said, holding out a hand to shake yet again. "If you're going to be in the area for a while, I hope you'll get in touch. I’ll buy you lunch at the club."

"I’d like that. I’ll let you know."

The man said his goodbyes and walked out from beneath the building and around the corner. A few seconds later, a six-person golf cart scooted by with a honk of its horn, followed by a second one equally loaded with people, while a third cart loaded with luggage brought up the rear.

Everett watched them go, his thoughts returning to the logistical side of his relationship with Isabel.

He loved New York, the challenge of mastering and excelling in the business world. But this? This was good, too.

If he and Isabel were able to make it work, would she prefer the Carolinas? Maybe split their time between New York and Carolina Cove…or here? Would they be able to come to a compromise that fit both their needs?

You have to win her first.

And that wasn't proving to be easy. Which only made it more fun. Hedidlike a challenge.

"You seem deep in thought."

Everett nodded toward the map and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "It looks like a nice place to live."

"It is. But you need deep, deep pockets to live here. Which reminds me, what do you do again?"

A smile tugged at his lips at the suspicious sound of her voice. "I'm a businessman."

A huff left her and he watched as her expression became uncomfortable. "What? Do you not like entrepreneurs? Are we too boring for an up-and-coming artist?"

"No, it’s just you're very evasive."

"I am?" He didn't want to get her suspicions up, but he liked that she seemed to see him just as a man rather than a bank account.

"You are. Which makes me wonder if businessman means...other things."

He watched as she shook her head and bit down on that lower lip so hard he lifted a hand to cup her jaw, using his thumb to save the abused flesh. "What other things?"

"If you're"—her voice lowered—"connected?"

"Connected?"

"You know," she said, exasperation clouding her voice. "In themob?"

The surprised laugh that burst from his chest echoed throughout the open-air enclosure. He used his hold to tug her closer, and her eyes widened as she lifted her hands between them. He ignored the warning and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips, smiling the entire time.

"It wasn't that funny," she said, eyes open on his. "And besides, you didn't answer."

He kissed her again before lifting his head. "No, Isabel, I'm not in the mob. Do you think your cousin would be associated with such people?"

It wasn't uncommon for just about anyone to have some tie to the underworld when it came to the business dealings in New York, but Everett had made it a point to avoid such connections. If there was even a remote chance that Michael…

"No, of course not. I only asked because ofyouand your evasiveness."

"Ready to go, Mr. Drake," Tomas said, joining them.

Tomas handed one of the keys to Everett, but Isabel quickly plucked the key from his palm.

"This way you get to look around more," she said, her smile a bit forced.

Driving also gave her a modicum of control of where they went, and after her mob question, he supposed he didn't mind her insistence. Whatever made her comfortable.

Everett lifted a hand toward the waiting carts. "After you."

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