‘Something like that.’
‘I hate people like that,’ she said. ‘The level of entitlement always astounds me.’
‘It doesn’t bother me anymore. Used to, back when we first got started. But it helped us smooth things out.’
‘What is the most ridiculous thing a person has ever complained about?’
Maverick thought about it. ‘I don’t hear about all of them anymore. We have a concierge who deals with those things, typically with Sierra’s buyoff. But back in our first year, we had a woman complain that her towels weren’t soft enough.’
Nina turned to stare at him. ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’
‘Nope.’ Maverick grinned. ‘She had sensitive skin.’
‘Bullsh-nap,’ Nina caught herself before the word left her mouth.
But Poppy tucked her head and giggled anyway.
‘I swear.’ Maverick laughed. ‘The funniest thing about it is that our resort towels are imported from Turkey. They’re top of the line. Cost an arm and a leg. But when she complained, the only place open at nine p.m. was Target. The ones I replaced them with cost me like thirteen dollars.’
Nina laughed. ‘What did she say?’
‘She thanked me, gave me a long lecture about quality, and how if we wanted to make it as a resort, we’d have to up our game.’
‘She did not.’
‘Cross my heart.’
She shook her head. ‘Unbelievable.’
Poppy saw the gesture and mimicked it. She shook her head seriously, said, ‘Unbelievable,’ making Mav laugh out loud.
He chanced a glance at Nina.
She smiled back at him. It might have been the first full smile she had ever given him. Her dark eyes lit with it, stunning him senseless.
It shocked him that something as simple as a woman’s smile could take him out. It worried him for so many reasons, least of all that he had only known her a week. It terrified him, because even as he told himself she was heartache waiting to happen, Maverick burned for her.
Chapter 12
When Markus came down, dressed in taupe pants, a white linen shirt, a Stetson, and snakeskin cowboy boots, he found Sierra alone in the kitchen, drinking a glass of white wine. He’d met her only briefly the day he’d checked Nina in, but their short acquaintance didn’t detract from the fact that Sierra Hunt probably knew more about Nina’s new living situation than he did. And Markus needed to know how Nina was really doing and why she’d been moved into the Hunts’ private home. If he’d thought it was just because of the blatant attraction between Maverick and Nina, he wouldn’t have worried so much. But Markus sensed there was more to it than that.
Still, he took his time, started with: ‘Where is everyone?’
‘They got a head start. Figured I’d wait for you and sneak an unofficial glass of wine before heading back.’ She swirled her glass in his direction. ‘Want one?’
‘Always.’
Markus watched her as she went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay. He figured good looks ran in the family. While Maverick and Poppy had dark chocolate hair, Sierra’s was closer to honey-blonde in colour. But their skin was that same warm tone he thought of as Perpetual Tan in colour. While the strength in Maverick’s body and the gentle wear on his face matched the fact that he worked outside and with his hands, Sierra had a tall, slender figure and smooth, unlined skin that hinted at a woman who looked after herself militantly.
‘Do I have something on my face?’ she asked, catching his direct perusal.
‘Who does your Botox?’
‘Au naturel.’
He might have called bullshit had he not seen the smirk on her face, so settled for a pout instead. ‘I hate you.’
She shrugged. ‘Good genetics.’
