A Holiday Romance (13 page)

No signature, either, but she knew the flowers were from Denver. She couldn’t tell if he’d got her message or not, the one saying she’d go on the trail ride but only as a PM guest. With Denver, that might not even matter. He was as easygoing as his brother was rigid.

She reconsidered. Neither was offering more than a temporary flirtation. That shouldn’t be a disappointment when she was lucky to have the attention of even one man.

Choose Denver and the rest of her vacation would be a breeze, aside from the fact that he might lose his job.

Choose Denver, and Kyle would be permanently crossed off the list. If he wasn’t already.

Alice sighed.

Choose Denver and she’d go home with pleasant memories of a few laughs, a few kisses, the ego boost of a sexy cowboy’s flattery and attention.

Choose Denver and she’d never know if there might have been something real with Kyle.

T
HE NEXT NIGHT
,
as Alice was dining at the Roadrunner Café, Rivka came from the kitchen to present a special dessert—a rustic-pear tart drizzled with Riesling syrup. “This is a thank-you for helping us with the wedding cake,” the pastry chef said. “You saved our butts—twice. Once with the cake and once with Mr. Jarreau.”

Something of an overstatement, but Alice appreciated the thought. “You don’t owe me a thing. But since it looks delicious, I’m glad you thought you did.”

Rivka winked behind her round, wire-frame glasses. “It never hurts to stay on the good side of the boss. You seem to have influence with him.”

Alice blushed. “Oh, no, really I don’t.”

This wasn’t good. Kyle would not like to hear that the staff had noticed his interest in her. He’d withdraw even more.

“He’s only being nice to me,” she insisted.

Rivka departed. Alice slowly ate the dessert, reliving her day so that she wouldn’t think about Kyle. It had been a long one, and unexpectedly strenuous. The condo crew had taken her to Lake Pleasant, where the St. Gregorys moored their motorboat. She’d returned hours later, stuffed with grilled burgers and
fruit salad, dead tired from the effort to learn waterskiing, her sunburn another degree hotter. A nap and a cold shower had revived her enough to come to the hotel for a light dinner.

She signed the bill and walked through the lobby, looking unobtrusively for Kyle. No sign of him. A pair of women with deep tans and big diamonds loudly discussed the photo shoot going on at the grotto. “Wedding dresses, in this heat. Can you imagine? Just like that real bride earlier.”

Alice had never watched a photo shoot. She walked around the main hotel, past the luxury
casitas
in lemon, strawberry and lime, each with its own small pool bordered by thick acacia and oleander hedges for privacy.

The grotto was at the edge of the massive water park, in a quiet area overhung by willows. She sat on a bench, well out of the way of the crew from
Southwest Bride.

The normal nighttime illumination of the sixteen-foot waterfall and series of gladed pools was artfully subdued. The crew had set up bright lights on standards. The photographer, a short, wiry black woman in a tank and running shorts, alternated between looking into her camera and ordering the assistants from place to place to adjust the lights.

A makeup and wardrobe tent had been established off to one side. After the set had been pronounced ready, the models appeared, each in a different style of wedding dress. They came one by one out of the tent, attended by helpers who lifted their trains, dabbed their brows, smoothed their hair.

“Beautiful,” Alice said, thinking she was alone. “Like swans.”

“Do you think so?”

She jumped. “Kyle! I didn’t see you.”

He circled the bench. “I’ve learned to stay out of the way of these things.”

“Why?”

“You see beauty. I see disaster. What do you want to bet that in about five minutes someone will have the bright idea to perch one of the models on the rocks? The slippery, mossy rocks.”

Sure enough, the models were being arranged around the grotto-like living statuary. Jenna Malloy was the centerpiece of the scene, tall, slim and pale in a column of white lace.

Alice didn’t feel envious. Only hopeless. “She’s stunning. I can see why you went for her.”

“It wasn’t only her looks.” He sat. “We were similar in many ways. We had the same lifestyle, the same sort of ambition. Neither of us was interested in marriage.”

“Sounds ideal. What happened?”

“I didn’t love her.”

“Does that mean…” Alice bent her head. “No, never mind.”

“Go ahead. Say it. Your observations are always illuminating.”

“I was going to ask, seeing how alike you two were, if that meant that you don’t love yourself, either.”

He was quiet. She watched as the photographer, finally satisfied, began to take photos. She stopped for minor adjustments, a camera change, then started again. The models were asked to pose differently, which required another round of fussing.

“Was that too personal?” Alice finally asked.

“No, I’m thinking.” Kyle had his elbows on his knees. He swung his head around to look at her. “It’s
not a question I’ve ever considered. Do you? Love yourself?”

She smiled abashedly. “I don’t suppose I ask myself that, either. But maybe that’s what this trip is about. Loving myself, for a change. Or trying to.”

“You should treat yourself very well.” He took her hand. Squeezed it. “You deserve it.”

“I’m not some kind of saint or…or martyr because I devoted myself to my sick mother.” She pulled her hand away. “I did what almost anyone would do for someone they love.”

“You left your own life behind. That’s admirable. I couldn’t do—I
didn’t
do that.”

“My ambition doesn’t run as strong as yours.”
Or Jenna’s, Miss Perfect Match. Except,
she reminded herself, feeling her hopes rise like a helium balloon,
he didn’t love her.

“Wait. What do you mean, you didn’t do that?”

Kyle gave a small grunt. “Just that I’ve had opportunities to put my family before my career and I didn’t. I always thought that giving them money and other kinds of assistance was enough to show that I cared.”

“You gave your brother a job.”

“I expect I’ll end up firing him, too.”

“Well,” Alice drew out the word and they smiled at each other, agreeing before she finished, “he’ll probably have done something that deserves it.”

Kyle sobered. “Like dating you?”

“The trail ride is scheduled for my last night here. Would you fire him for that?”

“I’d be jealous of him for that.”

“I’m having a hard time believing you. There’s Jenna—” she pointed at the model, who was returning
to the tent for a wardrobe change “—and there’s me. We’re not anything alike.” Same claim he’d made about Denver. But
she
was right.

“I told you,” he said. “I wasn’t in love with her.”

Alice was having a hard time catching her breath. “Last night. You said—”

“I didn’t get to say enough.” Her hand was on the bench and this time he didn’t merely hold it. He stroked it, threading and unthreading their fingers. “I’m trying to work it out, Alice. Us. I like spending time with you, and I want to do more of it, but with my position here, that’s difficult.”

“I do understand. Really.” She gulped. “I’m not being sarcastic the way I was last night.”

“It’s okay.”

“I have to tell you—Denver’s not really any competition. I like him, he’s fun to be around, but there’s nothing there. The message I left him was not the same message I left you, even if it was accepting a so-called date.”

“That’s a relief. Except I should have figured that out myself, knowing you.”

She lifted her head. “You said that you
don’t
know me.”

“What I meant was that I don’t know
enough
of you.”

“Same here.” Crazy, intoxicating hope fluttered in her throat. “How do we change that?
Can
we change that?”

“Sunday,” he said abruptly. “I’m going away for the day.”

“Oh.” She counted the days remaining of her vacation. There weren’t enough.

“Would you come with me?”

Her eyes widened.

“I’m stretching the rules,” he acknowledged. “But look at it this way—when I’m away from the job, I’m
my own man, on my own time. I can share my time with anyone I want.”

“You’d have lots to say if one of your employees tried that line.”

“We’ll consider it a friendly outing. Nothing romantic intended.”

“Mmm.” He must have seen her disappointment.

He turned her hand over, touched their palms. “There may be more truth to that than I’d like. I have a…it’s a kind of obligation, I guess you’d say. I hadn’t intended to go at all, but someone said something that hit home. About…about the way I don’t let anyone into my life.”

Alice’s interest was piqued. He didn’t often stumble over his tongue like that.

“We’d be going to visit my family,” he continued. “It’s my mother’s birthday. I haven’t seen her in quite a while.”

Nothing, not even an invitation to the No Tell Motel, could have surprised her more. “And you want to take
me?
To meet your
family?
” That was a big deal where she came from.

“It’s not as much about that as it is a way for us to get to know each other. They live in Nevada. It’s a two-or three-hour drive. Plus, if anyone asks, a family birthday party is a damn good cover, especially considering my family.” He gave her a slightly lopsided grin, but she could see his nervousness. He was letting her in.

Alice tried to think the invitation through, but there was something wrong with her brain. She couldn’t hold on to a single thought except that Kyle was not aloof, he was not uninterested. He truly liked her.

He studied the activity by the waterfall. “You’ll learn a lot about me there. More than I might want you to know.”

The models were back, freshly coiffed and gowned.
Alice scarcely noticed. A cool mist had lifted off the lagoon. It felt delicious, but a longing for the fresh breezes of Osprey Island came over her. Home was easy, familiar. Safe.

Not like this strange place with its searing heat and jagged rock. And men like Denver and Kyle, one so fast and the other already more important to her than she was prepared for.

Prepared?

For once, she would
not
prepare.

“That sounds fine to me,” she said, wanting to touch him but aware that someone might see. She leaned, pressing her shoulder to his. “Sunday, then. It’s a non-date.”

“H
IS NAME WAS
Henry Humbert,” Alice said a few minutes later, entertaining Kyle with stories of the day’s outing with the Cocktail Shakers. “But he told me to call him Hank. He’s Harriet’s nephew.”

“Clearly, that family has a thing for alliteration.”

“The man was not a Hank. But he was a Humbert.”

“No sparks?”

“Not even a flicker. He might have been fifty-five, under the toupée. I don’t know what Harrie was thinking.”

“I’ll have to send her a thank-you note.”

Kyle liked the way Alice blushed.

“Then there was the St. Gregorys’ grandson,” she said. “Colton. Whew, he was handsome. Tall, well built, with teeth so big and white you could have watched movies on them. He used enough product in his hair to fill an oil tanker. He taught me to waterski.”

“Hmm.” Kyle abruptly decided that he didn’t care to talk about other men.

“You’re red,” he said, grazing a hand across her shoulders. They had moved to stand on the bridge that overlooked the waterfall, still watching the photo shoot, which had moved to a backdrop of sago palms. The models stood around looking bored while Jenna posed with flowers in her hair.

“My sunblock wasn’t as waterproof as it claimed.” Alice wiggled her shoulders. “Your old girlfriend is staring at us. Have you ever waterskied?”

“Yes, and I’ve surfed, too. I once held a position at a PM hotel in San Diego.”

“You’re lucky to have a job that takes you all over the country.”

“It’s been an experience.”

“I always thought I’d travel during my summers off. Except that most teachers end up taking a second job, and then comes marriage and children, and before you know it you’re thinking about retirement accounts, instead of expeditions to Machu Picchu.”

“Do you want children?”

“Yes.” No hesitation there.

“With Colton St. Gregory?”

“Ha. I must have forgotten to mention that he’s ten years younger than me.” She looked up at Kyle. “And you? Any ambition to have children?”

“We’ll see. The right woman has to come along first.”

“Yeah, you men,” she teased. “You all have plenty of time.”

“I’m getting up there. Thirty-six.”

“Positively ancient.” She pretended to stagger before gripping the arched railing. Blue-green water swirled beneath them, propelled by hidden jets. “Are you a
wunderkind,
or what? To be manager of a huge resort like this before age forty seems an impressive feat.”

“I’m exceptionally dedicated.”

“I suppose that’s what it takes.” Now she sounded dubious. He usually had no trouble impressing women. “Do you ever think about easing up on yourself?”

“Maybe after the next promotion.”

“Or the next.”

She cocked her head to one side. She had a way of appraising him that was a bit unsettling. He was never quite certain what she saw, especially since she’d admitted comparing him to her ex-fiancé.

He wanted to win.

But it wasn’t a game.

“Tell me about your family,” she said.

“Sunday’s soon enough for that.” The decision to go to the party, not to mention asking Alice along, was a big step for him. If she knew what she was in for, she might back out. And he really wanted her to come.

Alice’s gaze slid toward the models. “Your girlfriend’s finally gone.”

He didn’t look. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Not anymore.”

“She never was, really. We weren’t…like that.”

“Like what?”

“In love.”

“Have you ever been?”

“Sort of.” He’d loved, but never all the way in love.

“Then the answer is no.”

She was right. He’d just felt too chagrined to admit that he’d never been willing to fall in love. “You have, huh.”

“Yes, with Stewart,” she said with a frown. “There’s a temptation to say it wasn’t really love because of the way it ended. But that’s revisionist history. I did love him. Maybe it wouldn’t have lasted for the long haul, but at the time he seemed like the man for me.” She turned her head, and the ends of her hair brushed over the pink skin on her shoulders and neck. “Who’s to know?”

He pushed away from the railing. “I would want to be certain. To
know,
without a single doubt.”

“Yeah, well, when you come up with a way to guarantee a relationship, clue me in.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

She looked quickly at him. “You sound like a man on a mission.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a mission. But I am taking a look at where I want to go from here.” He turned toward her, unable to resist touching her hair. With her, he wasn’t in control, and he was starting to realize that was what he needed. Lani would have laughed at him and said she’d told him so.

“The view in this direction is very nice,” he whispered.

The smallest smile turned up the corners of Alice’s mouth. Her eyes drew him in. She was reaching up to put her hands on his chest when someone called to them.

“Hey, you two on the bridge! You’re in our shot.”

They jumped apart. The models had been repositioned while he and Alice were talking, putting the two of them directly into the picture.

“No!” a second person yelled. “Don’t move. You’re perfect. Stay where you are.” The photographer. She held a finger up to keep them in place while gesticulating for an assistant to give her a handheld camera.

Her authority kept even Kyle from disobeying, but he protested. “I can’t be in your photos.”

The models turned. They’d been lined up along the bank so that the bridge was behind them, with the waterfall cascading beyond. Jenna, holding a massive bouquet made up of sprays of orchids, seemed amused by Kyle’s inadvertent participation. She smirked.

Bettina Brown came to stand on the bank of the lagoon. She planted her hands on her hips and gave Kyle a stern look. “Don’t be a stick in the mud. You’re
only background for the shot. You’ll be an unidentifiable blur.” She twirled her fingers. “Look at each other the way you were before. Get closer. That’s right. Put your hands on her waist. Lean in. You’re young and in love and you’re making us a very pretty picture, thank you very much.”

Kyle followed the editor’s instructions. The mood wasn’t quite the same, but Alice still had the liquid eyes and the tentative smile. He bobbed his head. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I never thought I’d be a model, even if it is only as background scenery.” Her eyes went to the real models. Jenna was no longer all that amused. “This is fun.”

“Watch out. They might put you in a wedding dress.”

“That’d be new. The first time, I never got the chance to try any on.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that I’m saying this is the second time, but it may be as close as I come to participating in a wedding party.”

“Not likely.” He pressed his fingers against the thin cotton of her dress, almost no barrier at all to the warmth of her skin beneath it. Above his thumbs, her rib cage expanded. “You’ll be a sweet bride.”

Her breathing hiccupped. “Maybe.” She looked away.

Lucky guy,
Kyle thought automatically, before he remembered that he didn’t believe in luck. But what would he call it, having Alice stumble into his path?

Fate? He didn’t believe in that, either.

“Love it!” called the photographer. “Jenna, give me serene, instead of ticked off. You’re a bride, not a wife.”

Bettina barked out a laugh.

Kyle and Alice locked eyes. “Is this okay?” she asked softly. “I wouldn’t want you to get fired for posing with me.”

He winked. “That’s not going to happen.”

“When the case goes to court, they might use the photos as evidence.”

He leaned in even closer. Yes, there was a definite glint of mischief in her dark eyes. “Oh, yeah? Evidence of what?”

“Of our…”

Their…?

“Our illicit flirtation.”

“You over there, yoo-hoo!” someone called. “Lovers on the bridge.”

“That’s us,” Kyle said.

Neither of them turned.

“We need a kiss,” the voice said. Probably the photographer.

“Yes! Yes!” That was Bettina. “Give us a kissie, Kyle.”

“I only kiss one woman at a time,” he said, though only Alice could hear.

“I’m conservative that way, too.” He felt the warm whisper of her breath on his chin.

“Too conservative to kiss me in front of an audience?”

Her head moved an inch. “Who, them?”

“Nobody.” He lowered his mouth to touch hers. “There’s nobody but us.”

She stretched up on her toes and he tightened his hands around her waist and just like that they were alone, despite the onlookers and the corporate rules and the rivalry with his brother. Their kiss was not deep except in feeling, but that was entirely new for Kyle. If he’d been a reflective man, he might have recognized right then that he’d fallen in love.

He did know something had happened—something special.

“Hold it,” called the photographer.

They didn’t listen. Alice sank down on her heels again. He pulled back, enough to see that the light shining from her face had nothing to do with the photographer’s equipment.

She smiled. “I wonder if I can get a copy of that photo.”

“No need. I’ll be glad to recreate the moment anytime you like.”

B
Y
S
UNDAY
,
Kyle was king of the world. The resort was running like a well-oiled machine, as it should, since he’d been oiling the machine for the past three years. He wondered briefly if he
should
take the day off, even so, but he’d already promised his mother and sister. Or at least Lani had for him. They also knew that he was bringing a guest.

Sweet naive Alice. She didn’t know what she was getting into.

It ought to be an interesting day. Lani had said that his family sounded excited and happy on the phone. He hoped they were.

He was going to try his best not to keep his emotional distance. Alice would see that he wasn’t as closed off and rule-bound as she believed.

He got his own car from the parking facility rather than the company car, then washed the clean windows and shined the hubcaps while waiting for the air-conditioning to cool the interior. He repositioned the floor mat. He adjusted the passenger seat.

Driving up to the condos, he had an urge to tap the horn to announce his arrival. His father had done that. Long blasts as whatever run-down vehicle he’d been driving at the time rattled up the dusty road to their house. Kyle and his brother and sister would fly home from all directions. Their mother, if she wasn’t working, would bang open the screen door and stand with one hip cocked, unmoved until her wayward hubby gave the high sign: windfall or bust.

Eventually Kyle had stopped waiting for his dad. He’d made up his mind that his only way out was on his own. But the rest of them were either more stubborn or more hopeful. He never could decide.

A distressed Alice opened the door to his knock. “I don’t know if I should go with you,” she said, holding her arm in front of her at an awkward angle. “I went on the early-bird mountain bike ride and I had a run-in with a cactus.”

He took her arm. The skin was red and tender.

She winced. “Careful. It’s sore. The bike guide pulled
the needles out and dosed me with ibuprofen, but it still hurts.” She brushed at her straight white skirt. “My leg, too.”

Kyle looked closely. “There are still some tiny pieces of cactus in you. We need some glue.”

“What for? I don’t have any glue.”

“Let me see.” He went into her kitchen, a sleek galley-style with dark cabinets and granite counters. A small cooler sat open on one. She’d been packing drinks and snacks. He opened drawers until he found one with the accumulation of flotsam that even vacationers collect. A few tools, menus from the resort restaurants, extra batteries and a full bottle of Elmer’s Glue.

“Sit down,” he told Alice, crossing to the bathroom for a warm washcloth. She sat, her face pinched.

“Nothing to it,” he soothed, returning to sit beside her. He put a rolled-up towel beneath her arm and squeezed a large dollop of glue over the infected area.