Was she wrong to have been so relieved when Christopher came to her rescue? He’d been like a dashing hero from the pages of a romance novel, gallantly turning up in her moment of great distress. She’d launched herself into his arms.
His hug? Her skin tingled. She nestled deeper into the bedding, wrapping herself up tight, almost like he held her again. His warm embrace had reactivated all the memories locked in her muscles. How he had always treated her like a treasure to be admired with tenderness. The way he had created a protective cocoon, demanding nothing of her in return, had made her knees buckle until she had gone limp in his arms.
Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. Had she really lost him to her hurt pride? Why had she let anything, specifically anyone, rile her enough for such rash nonsense?Because I’ve only been part of what he wanted, I’ve never been enough on my own.
She couldn’t argue with herself over that topic. Luckily, last night, he hadn’t noticed how she melted in his embrace. If their situation was lopsided, she’d rather he didn’t realize it played in his favor.
He had been too absorbed in the disaster unfolding on his property. Or rather hers. He’d doused the flames, and she had recollected herself and her purpose. She didn’t need him. Not anymore. He’d made his choice, and she was no longer hurt. She knew where she stood with him. She was the bonus but not the prize. And now she would reclaim her hotel and push him out. He’d lose it all. Maybe then he’d regret not choosing her.
With a good night's sleep, she was clear-headed but remained unsure how to remove him from the property. She needed him gone for one night to restart the clock. Finding a reason for him to leave couldn’t be too difficult. She shuddered, hating the underhandedness after he saved her.
He wasn’t hers anymore. She had to claim her inheritance, or she had nothing. Now that she was back, he’d undoubtedly hand her divorce papers before she took off again, and then she’d really not belong.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She crossed the room and grabbed it.
The hubs:let me know when you’re awake. I have an idea.
Seeing his official title flash on her screen sent a shiver down her spine and pierced her heart. She forgot she hadn’t changed his identification on her phone. She should have deleted the number. Not that she could have erased it from her memory.
She stared at the phone. Her curiosity overrode any thoughts of stalling. She was the schemer and would offer help in improving whatever plan he formed. He was a novice at creative thinking. Or, he had been when she left.
She texted back.I’m up now.
A knock pounded the entry door, loud enough to carry through the foyer and into the studio suite.
“Coming.” She stared down at herself and her bare legs. The bright light of day bouncing off them encouraged her to cover herself and add a little dignity to this meeting.
She grabbed a robe from the closet, slipping her arms into the plush sleeves. She purred at the touch of soft velour, rubbing her cheeks into the collar. She tied the belt at her waist and ran her palms over the front.
Had this been one of Dad’s choices or Christopher’s? The luxurious in-room extra seemed like Dad, but Christopher also cared about details. She glanced at the messy bed and half-heartedly tugged the duvet over the top. She hated making a bed, but it was one of those chores he insisted on.
The knock came again.
She strode out of the room and into the foyer, pulling open the door and glaring at him.
With his fist raised, he was poised to knock again. Was he intent on waking all of his guests? She scanned him, hair neatly combed and dressed in a two-piece suit with a tie. Well, at least she’d grabbed the robe.
She stepped to the side, shielding herself behind the door. She wasn’t sure why she made the effort. Staff wouldn’t be upstairs yet. If a maid or bellhop saw her, so what? Showing up in her family’s hotel was hardly remarkable. And many of the employees would have no idea who she was. Her stomach dropped. No one would recognize her.A stranger in my family's home.
“Good morning.” He tipped his head and shut the door.
He sounded a little wooden and moved stiff and jerky. She remained in place. Without the door, she was fully in view. She didn’t shy away from him.
Any conversation between them would have to be short, if not terribly sweet. She didn’t need to offer him hospitality or make him comfortable. Which was wrong, considering he had given her exactly that. But now that she was out of the lighthouse, she’d lost the upper hand and the element of surprise. And he seemed determined to capitalize on the security of his home turf.
He cleared his throat. “Mind if we sit down?”
She arched an eyebrow. Direct and no-nonsense, he wasn’t the people-pleaser she’d left. The man who asked but never demanded. Otherwise, he’d barely aged in the past decade. There were no obvious fine lines or wrinkles or gray streaks near his temples. Her fingers itched to cover the roots she needed to touch up. Her skincare regime helped her maintain a rosy glow.
“Please?” he asked. “No more games.”
“What do you mean?” She kept her tone light.
He stared at her hard. “You arrived at ten-twenty on Monday morning but waited until dusk to move into the lighthouse. You thought you wouldn’t be seen? I have eyes all over the property and town.”
She blew out a heavy sigh. Either he had extensive surveillance on the property or a gut feeling about her return. She liked the second option but also feared his ability to predict her next step. He liked to say he knew her better than she knew herself. For a while, the statement was true. Until she left.
“I have a plan that’ll help both of us. You can trust me.”
