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“I’m good. Do whatever you need to do.”
Whatever she needed to do…
She felt her face flushing for the umpteenth time. Sharing a bedroom and a bathroom with the guy? She really hadn’t thought this out.
Fortunately she knew of at least four other guest bathrooms she could avail herself of if it became necessary. Grabbing her carry-on, she headed to the bathroom.
With the door shut and locked behind her, she dug out one of her new swimsuits.
A few minutes later, swimsuit on, she stood in front of the mirror trying to decide how fearless she really was in this new life of hers.
Accepting and learning to love her curves was one thing. Flaunting these curves in front of everyone else was another.
She sighed. Do or die, right?
Next she pulled out her coral-colored swimsuit cover-up and wrapped it around her body then tied it closed at the waist, grateful to have a little more material to hide under until the big unveiling arrived.
When she finally reentered the bedroom, she found the patio doors open and Reynolds standing at the bannister and looking out at the view of the ocean.
“This place is unreal. An enormous pool surrounded by six umbrella-covered tables, a dozen lounge chairs, a gourmet outdoor kitchen, and a little rotunda thing at the other end of the pool—what is that for anyway?”
Waverley followed his gaze down to the pool that stretched out toward the white sandy beach. “That’s the hot tub.”
He shook his head. “All of this land and luxury owned and used by one family? Ridiculous.”
“True,” she said. “But I wouldn’t lead the introductions with that.”
He turned to face her and froze. The heat and appreciation in his dark brown eyes as he studied her was making it nearly impossible to breathe, and any doubt she’d had earlier about whether this outfit was the right choice was dismissed.
He clamped his mouth shut and swallowed visibly. “I-I guess I should throw on my suit.”
And before she could offer any kind of response, he stalked back into the room, where he grabbed his bag and took off for the bathroom.
Waverley smiled in satisfaction.
Maybe Meg had been right. Maybe this was exactly the place they needed to be to test out whatever it was between them.
* * *
“How did you and Waverley meet again?”
Reynolds turned his head to meet the eyes of the guy he’d been introduced to an hour before and tried not to appear annoyed by the renewed interest. Bryant Foley, or Bry as everyone called him, seemed harmless enough, like a guy who was used to having everything handed to him and who wouldn’t risk rocking the boat of the establishment if it could cost him anything in his life.
“Waverley and I met about a year ago when she was hosting an event for her family’s foundation. We ran into each other again in Denver a couple months ago and got to talking and one thing led to another and…” He shrugged his shoulders. “Here we are.”
“Did you know her husband, Spencer?” Ronnie Jackson asked as he took a slug from his beer and tried to appear as benign as Bryant, but something told Reynolds not to buy it. In fact, some of his early digging had him convinced that Ronnie Jackson might have known and benefited from Spencer’s schemes over the years.
“I know of him but we never had the occasion to meet. Do you guys still stay in touch with him?” he asked, keeping his voice casual.
“Afraid not,” Porter Thorne said, who had just arrived a few minutes before with his new fiancée. “But it’s understandable under the circumstances.”
The circumstances being that Spencer was a wanted felon.
He noticed the other two men didn’t say anything either way as they took pulls on their beer.
“So you guys have all known each other since college?” Reynolds asked, pretending he didn’t already know the full biography of every man here today.
“Yeah. Except for Ronnie and Spencer. Their families knew each other before. Used to spend time together up in Nantucket. Isn’t that right, Ronnie?” Bry asked.
