Page 22 of Then There Was You


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He didn’t stop.

“I’m sorry,” she called. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He looked over his shoulder, but didn’t pause, making good time toward his bedroom, where she assumed he meant to lock himself for the foreseeable future. Unless, of course, he’d had enough and was leaving. She didn’t want him to leave on these terms. Especially not when she suspected he needed Sanctuary more than ever. He strode through the foyer, down the hall, and reached the bedroom door.

“I really didn’t mean anything by it,” Kat repeated. “You look adorable. Please, let me help.”

He unlocked the door, went inside, and shut it firmly behind him.

Guess that’s that.

* * *

After he’d showered—again—Sterlingperched on the edge of the bed and wondered how he’d managed to make such a fool of himself in a short amount of time. Not only that, but he was failing at his job. Miserably. Staying in the bay served only one purpose: to convince Kat to sell. So far, he was no closer to accomplishing that than he had been yesterday.

To make matters worse, she probably thought him a pompous idiot. He certainly hadn’t done anything to persuade her otherwise, but for some reason, that grated. Perhaps because he wanted her to respect him enough to do business with him. Or perhaps, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered, it has nothing to do with business and everything to do with your attraction to her. Few women interested Sterling, which was how he preferred it. He’d dated when he was younger, but during recent years he’d been too focused on helping Eli grow the company for anything else. Romantic entanglements complicated life. He’d seen it with Eli. While his friend seemed happy, it had taken a lot of heartache to get to that point, as well as a drastic change of lifestyle.

But he wasn’t opposed to relationships, on principle, and Kat interested him, both physically and mentally. She was good with people—something he could never claim to be—and with her height, fit figure, and scars, she was striking. She wasn’t a wilting violet or a young sprout that had yet to be challenged by the world. She was a hardy purple rose who’d survived the winter and emerged out the other side more beautiful for it.

God, listen to him wax poetic. Next, he’d be serenading her with a violin.

He fetched his laptop and googled dry cleaners in the area. The nearest was half an hour away, in a neighboring town. Seriously? What kind of place doesn’t have a dry cleaner?

He packed his work suit into its plastic carry-case and took it to his car, then followed the GPS directions out of Haven Bay, relieved when the town disappeared in his rearview mirror. On his way along the coast, he brainstormed. He needed to take action. Not only had he looked like a fool today, but he hadn’t made the smallest step toward accomplishing his goal. Being at Sanctuary wasn’t working for him. He was too far out of his element. He needed to take Kat somewhere he was more comfortable. To get her into his element, and show her what she’d be missing out on if she didn’t sell. Tempt her with the things she could have or places she could go if she had a healthy bank balance.

He pondered this. What kind of things would Kat miss out on by being completely absorbed by her business? Social time? From what he could see, she managed to center her social life around her guests and colleagues. Time to relax? Contrary to the advice she espoused, she’d been on the go constantly since he arrived. Dating? Based on Sterling’s intel, her husband had died three years ago. She was still young. Surely she’d want to find another life partner.

His fingers drummed the steering wheel. Thinking, thinking… then it struck him. Two birds, one stone. He could give her an evening away from work and reintroduce her to the dating scene by taking her out for dinner at a top-notch restaurant. Yes. Excitement grew, and he assured himself it was because he had a plan and not because he wanted to take Kat out on a date.

* * *

After Trevor knockedSterling on his ass, Kat didn’t see her guest for hours. At first, she thought he must be hiding in his room while he nursed his injured pride, but when she knocked with a tray of lunch, the door was locked and she couldn’t hear any noise inside. She checked the parking lot and his car was gone. Had he left? For good? No, she decided. He couldn’t have. No matter how wounded his ego, he’d have had to check out. Hopefully he’d headed into town to buy an ice cream and a pint of beer and take a load off.

She was explaining the layout of Haven Bay to an American couple when he walked into the foyer, wearing a pale blue t-shirt and dark jeans. Her mouth went dry. Yowza. If ruining his suit was what it took to get him into more casual attire, she didn’t regret his misfortune quite as much as she had a minute ago. The shirt hugged his lean torso and brought out the color of his eyes like two pops of summer sky on a cloudless day.

Her tongue tripped over itself. She swallowed and repeated what she’d been saying to the couple, then she handed the map to the woman, and said, “Good luck. You can call me at the number on the bottom if you get lost or run into any trouble.”

“Thank you, Kat.”

“No problem.” She shifted her attention to Sterling. “Have you been exploring?”

“I drove to the nearest dry cleaners and dropped off my suit.”

She winced. “Oh.” Not relaxing with ice cream and beer, then. And now that she took the time to look, his shoulders were stiff and his bearing upright, despite the casual clothes. Not at all how someone on holiday ought to be holding himself. Damn. She had her work cut out for her. “What’s the plan for the rest of the afternoon?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t decided yet, but while I’ve got you here, let’s talk.”

That sounded ominous, but also piqued her curiosity. “Okay, so talk.”

“Have dinner with me at Figaro.”

Kat had two thoughts simultaneously. One: how would going out for dinner help his cause? Two: hell no.

She addressed the first. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “My reasons are my own. Will you join me?”

“Is this a date?” Because she flat-out didn’t date. Ever.

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