A frown chased across his perfect features.She couldn’t read his expression with the sunglasses.She wondered if her own Chanel knock-off pair, which made her feel like a starlet at the Cannes Film Festival, was equally disconcerting.
He shook his head as if he was waking up and stepped off the path, agilely joining her.
“Fancy a swim?”
“In Confluence Park on the kayak run?No thanks.Don’t have my fishing pole to pluck you out downstream.I prefer you unbruised and unbattered.”
“Me too,” she said quickly turning away so he wouldn’t see how the image disturbed her.Nearly nine years, and a careless word or phrase could still drag her back to hell.
“And I don’t believe you have a fishing pole.You have the patience for it, but not the time.And even if Cam had someRiver Runs Through It, Montana fly fishing fantasy, he doesn’t seem like a man who’d be interested in wading into glacier-fed water, standing in ugly waders silently, perfecting his overhead cast.”
“You discern a lot from a matchmaker’s profile.”
Direct hit.He had his footing again.She’d need to be careful now.
“Barely glanced at it.Couldn’t be bothered.”
“You accepted the ticket and the suite, offering yourself up on the altar of alternate mail-order bride and didn’t do the research?”Disbelief was thick in his deep voice.
“No.”
“Yes.Otherwise, why be here?”he demanded.“I smell deception in your… fairy in a field of wildflowers appearance.You are a woman who thinks things through.You hide it well, but you are wary and definitely would do your research before meeting Cam.”
She tried to hide her flinch.She’d been right.He was observant.
Careful.
But excitement skittered down her spine.She couldn’t remember a man who’d intrigued her.
“The way you walked into the office—your eyes, your awareness.The way you held still, pretended a casualness you didn’t feel gives you away.You’re smart and calculated.”
“Fairy in a field,” she repeated.
That was new.And insulting.Fairies sounded cute and playful, easily dismissed.The stray she’d felt she’d rescued now had teeth and a sharp bite.
“Ordering the champagne was a test,” he surmised.
“I’m not offering myself up as a bride.”She was offended to her core.She’d run from that as a teen.She had to stifle the urge to push him into the surging river.
“What then?”he challenged.
The water wasn’t as startlingly chilly now, but soothing as it tugged and rushed past and around her foot.
Kinda like life.
You could get used to every discomfort if you let yourself.She was always on the lookout for signs of the compliance that had been drilled into her.She looked up at him, as he stood on the boulder above, clearly not wanting to get his expensive-looking footwear wet.
“Still deciding.Leaning toward leaving.”
A frown kissed his spectacular, thick, dark brows as if he was unaccustomed to not being in possession of all the facts.“You boarded a flight from Atlanta and flew to Denver to meet a rich man you don’t want to marry.”Skepticism coated his reply like oil.
She wasn’t the only one who’d done some research.“Cut the sarcasm.Thousands of women board flights daily not expecting to meet their future husband.I’ve never been to Denver.Vesna gave me a ticket and a paid weekend away because she was heading out with her carpenter Mr.Right.”She could feel the way her face scrunched in distaste.
Not that Ryan hadn’t been hot and sweet, but still… marriage, moving, giving up a solid job and changing your life for a man.
“What I did with it was up to me.”She was firm on that.“I debated not even meeting Cam.Just enjoying the city on my own.I’m not on the hunt for Mr.Right to complete me.”
Or boss her.She knew she shouldn’t feel desperate.She had savings.She wasn’t a scared, fleeing teen, thrust into a modern world she hadn’t understood, but losing her job, compounded by Vesna giving up the lease, had forced another pivot when Ayana hadn’t been prepared for either.
