Holt took a bite of his lobster roll, trying to distract himself from the blush staining Caitlin’s cheeks. So she’d realized, just as he had, that his earlier statement could be taken several ways, as could her response.
He’d like to explore her favorite spots, the ones that had nothing to do with food. Or sightseeing. Only with her. He dropped his gaze to his basket to keep Caitlin from seeing the desire for her in his eyes. He had no business letting such thoughts overtake him. Better he kept his gaze and his thoughts on the heaped fries and the soft roll bursting with lobster meat. He was about to be gone for three days, and after that? He might be stuck here through the winter, but she wasn’t.
Still, he could see himself arriving in Scotland at her door, which made him wonder. Did she live in a house? An apartment, or flat, if they used that term in Scotland and not just in England? Would there be a roommate in the way? If so, he would let Caitlin take him to her favorite spots of a different kind. While showing him around her country, they would find the privacy he imagined they would want.
He wasn’t sure what their relationship was at the moment. Boss and employee? Contractor and client? Friends? Potential lovers? Going to Scotland to see Caitlin could lead to more than either of them were prepared for at this moment. The hell with playing tourist. He could easily imagine what would happen between them, at least up to a point. It bothered him that he didn’t know what it would mean to either of them. At the end, he would leave, and she would remain. Was it worth the pain of that leave-taking? Or of reinventing a relationship neither was certain of while they were here? When she left for home, she might forget all about him. He might meet someone and forget all about her. He could be wasting his time enjoying any sort of future encounter with her. He should let this drop before he said or did something monumentally stupid.
So why couldn’t he?
She certainly recognized the double entendre she’d used, whether she did it intentionally or not. Her color had climbed quickly soon after she spoke, giving her skin a rosy hue that made him imagine that heat spreading to other parts of her body. And making him hard.
Using the vinegar to try to disguise her reaction was clever, but an act of desperation to hide the desire her blush gave away. Or was it embarrassment? That thought sent a cold wash of disappointment through him. Perhaps she wasn’t as into him as he’d been convincing himself with his daydreams. They might be a foolish waste of time, but if he was right, there was something going on between them. No, they weren’t foolish. He was right.
He hid a smirk, amused at himself, but also intrigued and getting more and more interested in her, despite what his head and his recent experience with another woman were telling him. Something was developing between them. Something that might be worth exploring, if only they had the time. He made a mental note to have his office look into her background, surprised he didn’t think of it before. The lawyer could give him whatever bona fides his firm used to decide to hire her, but Holt’s interest went well beyond that. Whether it should or not.
He hated the necessity, but he’d learned he needed to be more careful than he had in the past. No matter how much Caitlin Paterson intrigued him, he would take whatever this was slowly. His upcoming trip to the city was well-timed. Their adventure on the beach had brought them closer very quickly. His desire for her had spiked while he held her up in the rough surf. He had felt her heart pounding in her chest and watched it pulse in the vein in her throat. And carrying her to the house had made it clear to him that she felt the pull, too. There was no question that both of them were interested in the other. But one important question remained— should they be?
CHAPTER6
After his trip to the city, Holt was impatient to hear what progress Caitlin had made during the days he’d been gone. He told himself that was all he was eager for, but in truth, he’d missed her. He’d been busy, but that hadn’t stopped him from thinking of her when he spotted an auburn-haired woman on the sidewalk ahead of him. Even a bit of overheard conversation in an accent like hers at a coffee shop could make him look for her, then feel like a fool.
For a change, he came downstairs to find Caitlin hadn’t yet made an appearance. They both must be getting over the jet lag from their respective time zones. “Good morning,” he greeted Mrs. Smith. “Just some coffee and toast will do for me,” he told her.
“Nonsense,” she replied, reaching for a skillet. “Bacon and eggs, at least. You won’t get far on toast.”
He gave in and settled back with his coffee while she made his breakfast. “No sign of Caitlin yet?”
“No,” she told him as she slid eggs next to the bacon on his plate. “She must be sleeping in.” Mrs. Smith set toast, butter, and jam in front of him while he dug into his breakfast, then puttered about, putting the kitchen to rights. “What do you have planned for today?”
“Nothing this early,” he told her. “California isn’t awake yet.”
“Have you looked up anyone you used to know since you’ve been back? Friends from school? Neighbors?”
“No, not yet.” Given that his initial plan had been to do a quick survey and leave as soon as possible, Holt hadn’t considered going back to any of his old haunts. But once the idea took root, he decided even if he didn’t contact anyone he used to know, today was as good a day as any to spend some more time away from the estate. After devoting an intense three days in meetings in the city, taking a break from his business might do him some good. He considered waiting for Caitlin to see if she wanted to go with him, but after he thought about it, Holt realized he didn’t know what he’d find, or how he’d react to being in his old neighborhood. He decided it would be better to go without her. He’d talk to her when he got back to the estate.
He finished eating and thanked Mrs. Smith. Then he gathered his jacket, gloves, and hat and headed to the garage, jangling a set of keys in his hand as he walked from bay to bay to the vehicle he wanted. Not the Mercedes SUV this time. Something less noticeable, less ostentatious. A jeep with a few years on it caught his eye. Perfect.
His memories of this end of Long Island were far from fond. But he found Caitlin’s enthusiasm and his lawyer’s revelation that his great-aunt paid his college bills were starting to open him to the possibility that his recollections were skewed by the bitterness he’d inherited from his mother. He’d have a look around and see if things were different enough to put old resentments in the past, where they belonged. There was so much about his mother’s history— and his own— he didn’t know. Perhaps Caitlin was right, and it was time for him to start finding out.
He headed west and south toward the village where he and his mother lived until he went away to college on an academic scholarship— one he believed he’d won through diligent study and the ethos of hard work he’d learned from her. Until his meeting with Thornton, who told him the truth, he’d never known otherwise. He’d jumped to the conclusion that his great-aunt had sent him as far from his mother as she could, but perhaps her motive had been more benign, or even more altruistic, wanting to ease her guilt, and to ensure that he could escape the life he’d lived with his mother. It was a novel idea, and one he wasn’t sure he believed in, but it was a crack in the hard shell of bitterness he’d built up all his life. His great-aunt was actually behind the scholarship, and Holt could either let that news eat at him until the day he died or take advantage of his time in the area to learn as much as he could.
Their old neighborhood wasn’t far from the estate, but it could have been another world. He shouldn’t have been surprised by how much the village had changed since he’d moved. But he’d always thought the south fork of Long Island had a timeless quality, so the differences surprised him. More traffic, more strip shopping centers, more apartments, balconies draped with colored lights and the occasional wreath to mark the season. To him, this area had always suffered by contrast with the area around the estate, but over the years the contrast had sharpened. If this was the alternative, no wonder Caitlin wanted to preserve what he had at the estate.
He turned onto the street where he and his mother had lived. After driving for several blocks, he began to think his memory was faulty. The tree-lined streets, the little house, in fact, the entire area, was gone, replaced by more apartments and parking lots, with not a soul in sight. The transformation saddened him. Their little neighborhood hadn’t been much, but now that he was here, he recalled a sense of community, kids playing outside until dark, riding bikes in the shade of grand old trees in the summer, neighbors who knew and looked out for each other’s kids.
He made a few turns and found the small office building where his mother, who had always been good with math, had done bookkeeping for several local businesses. The accounting firm’s name was missing from the sign outside. Another link to his past gone.
He turned the car back toward the estate, passing the library where she’d worked part-time so he could check out unlimited amounts of books. They’d both been voracious readers, and it had been one of the few places he felt he belonged— back then. Seeing it changed inside— that last vestige of a love he shared with his mother— would hurt too much. He didn’t stop.
Instead, he drove a few blocks farther and pulled into Charlie’s, his favorite hang-out when he’d been in high school. If the family still owned the business, maybe he could ask some questions. Charlie’s son, Jack, had been a classmate.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” Jack’s voice was unmistakable, even after more than a decade, as was the grin he directed Holt’s way from behind the counter. “I’d know you anywhere, Holt Ridley.”
Holt held out a hand. “Jack Romano. Good to see you.” Jack looked heavier, a bit more lined, but other than that, much the same. They’d played on the school lacrosse team together.
“Damn, it’s been, what, nearly fifteen years?”
“Since graduation, yes.”
