She laughed. ‘You hate it.’
‘I don’t hate it. It’s just… not somewhere I’ve been before.’
‘You should spend some real time there. You might like it.’
And hell might freeze over, he thought.
‘I go where the work is.’
‘And that’s in Wellington. You still haven’t told me exactly what you do.’
There was a reason for that.
‘I buy things that aren’t working and develop them… into something profitable.’
She held his gaze, and his stomach dipped. ‘And what’s not working in MacLeod’s Cove?’
He forced a charming smile. ‘Nothing I’ve seen. I was just… curious.’
His reply clearly didn’t wash. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she thought she was on to something. So much for keeping things vague.
‘So when you say you “develop them”… What do you actually do?’
‘I’m in urban planning and development strategy,’ he said. True, he reassured himself. Vague, but true. ‘Mainly in Australia,’ he added, hoping to head off questions about local projects. He really didn’t want to go there.
She crossed her arms on the table. ‘A Sydney developer in MacLeod’s Cove at 8am on a Wednesday. That’s not curiosity, Oliver. That’s reconnaissance.’ She’d barely dropped the bombshell before continuing. ‘I wonder if you know my sister’s boyfriend, Sam Boyd?’
Sam Boyd? What the hell?
So much for keeping things vague. He’d forgotten how small New Zealand was. For a moment he longed for the anonymity of Sydney, or New York, or anywhere else. As soon as Lucy spoke to Sam, the cat would be out of the bag. That bigger bombshell had just changed everything.
He had only tonight to win her over. If he didn’t, he’d be forced into Plan C — and he didn’t want to smear his grandparents’ legacy by bribing officials if he could avoid it.
He pretended to think. ‘Name sounds familiar,’ he said with a tight smile.
‘Hm.’ Lucy grunted softly. ‘I’ll have to ask him to dish the dirt on you.’
His smile stayed in place. ‘And what makes you think there’s any dirt to discover?’
She tipped her head, leaning back, one arm folded, the other cradling her glass as if she were appraising him. ‘You just strike me as someone very determined to get what he wants. I bet you’re a tough negotiator. And tough negotiators tend to leave a trail of damage behind them.’
This was heading somewhere he really didn’t want to go. But if she knew Sam, the clock was ticking anyway. She’d know everything sooner rather than later.
He shrugged. ‘I always win. I make sure of it.’
‘Sounds like business is a contest to you.’
‘No. More like a war.’
Her brows lifted. She sat back and took a thoughtful sip of wine. ‘That’s… quite fierce. Puts you in the warrior category.’
‘It’s a jungle out there — at least in the cities.’
She pulled a wry face. ‘You’ve obviously never lived in a village. There’s as much drama in a village as in a city. Which brings me back to my original question. Why were you really in MacLeod’s Cove?’
He leaned in, folding his arms and locking his gaze to hers. ‘Perhaps,’ he said, gratified to see her eyes darken with interest, ‘I needed my preconceptions about village life confirmed.’
‘And why would you need that? Looking to widen your portfolio?’
