‘Let me guess again. She’s getting anxious about filling me in on how it all works?’
‘Correct again,’ he said. ‘I promised to return with you ASAP to complete the mission.’
‘Funnily enough I have no other pressing social engagements in Dolphin Bay.’ She turned and started to walk back into the room, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him. ‘Do you want to come in while I get dressed?’
His glance went briefly to her open neckline. He cleared his throat. ‘Not a good idea.’
She blushed even redder and clutched the robe tighter. ‘I mean... I didn’t mean...’ she stuttered.
‘How about I come back to get you in half an hour?’
Her voice came out an octave higher. ‘Twenty minutes max will be fine. Where will you be if I’m ready earlier?’
‘Downstairs in my office.’
‘Pick me up in twenty, then.’
He turned to go.
She swallowed against the sudden tension in her throat. ‘Ben?’ she said.
He swung back to face her, a question on his face.
‘Thank you for the Snickers. I won’t say I’ll treasure them for ever, because they’ll be devoured in double quick time. But...thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘It was—’
Afterwards she wondered at the impulse that had made her forget all caution, all fear of rejection. Before she could think about whether it was a good thing or not to do, propelled by pure instinct, she leaned up on her bare toes and kissed him lightly on his cheek.
Then she staggered at the impact of his closeness, at the memories that came rushing back in a flood of heat and hormones. The feel of his beard-roughened cheek beneath her lips, the strength of his tightly muscled body, the out-and-out maleness of him. She clung to him, overwhelmed by nostalgia for the past, for when she’d had the right to hold him close. How could she ever have let go of that right?
His hands grasped her shoulders to steady her. She could feel their warmth on her skin through the thick cloth of her robe. Swiftly, he released her. He muttered something inarticulate.
Reeling, she lifted her head in response, saw the shutters come down over his eyes—but not before she’d glimpsed something she couldn’t read. It could have been passion but was more likely panic.
Bad, bad idea, Sandy, she berated herself. Even a chaste peck is too much for him to handle.
Too much for you to handle.
But no way was she was going to let herself feel ashamed of a friendly thank-you kiss. She was used to spontaneous expressions of affection between friends.
She forced her breath to steady, tilted her chin upwards. ‘See you in twenty,’ she said, praying he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice.
* * *
Ben stood back and watched as Sandy talked with his great-aunt in her room at the brand new Dolphin Bay Memorial Hospital. He might have known they would hit it off.
On doctor’s orders, Ida was lying flat on her back in her hospital bed. She’d been told she had to hold that position for six weeks to heal her cracked pelvis.
Sandy had pulled up a chair beside her and was chatting away as if she and Ida were old friends.
Why, although they were talking about authors and titles of favourite books, did he sense this instant alliance could mean trouble for him? Trouble not of the business kind—hell, there was nothing he couldn’t handle there—but a feminine kind of trouble he was not as well equipped to deal with.
Sandy was laughing and gesticulating with her hands as she spoke. His aunt was laughing too. It pleased him to see a warm flush vanquishing the grey tinge of pain from her face.
‘What do you think, Ben?’ Sandy asked.
‘Me?’
‘Yes. Who is the primary customer for Bay Books?’
He shrugged. ‘People off the boats looking for something to read? Retirees?’
His aunt nodded. ‘They’re important, yes. But I sell more books to the telecommuters than to anyone else. They’re crazy for book clubs. A book club gives them human contact as an antidote to the hours they spend working away on their computers, reporting to an office somewhere miles and miles away.’
Ben rubbed his hands together in simulated glee. ‘All those people fleeing the cities, making a sea-change to live on the coast—the lifeblood of commerce in Dolphin Bay. They’re buying land, building houses, and spending their socks off.’
Sandy wrinkled up her nose in the way he remembered so well. It was just as cute on her at thirty as it had been at eighteen.
‘That seems very calculating,’ she said.
‘What do you expect from the President of the Dolphin Bay Chamber of Commerce?’ said Aunt Ida, her voice dripping with the pride all his family felt at his achievement. ‘The town has really come on under his leadership.’
Sandy’s eyes widened. ‘You’re full of surprises, Ben.’
On that so expressive face of hers he could see her wondering how he’d come from fisherman’s son to successful businessman. Her father had judged him not good enough, not wealthy enough. He’d had no idea of how much land Ben’s family owned. And Sandy didn’t know how spurred on to succeed Ben had been by the snobby older man’s low opinion of him.
‘We have a lot to catch up on,’ she said.
No.
More than ever he did not want to spend more time than was necessary with Sandy, reviving old feelings that were best left buried.
She was modestly dressed now, in a neat-fitting T-shirt and a skirt of some floaty material that covered her knees. But she’d answered the door to him at the hotel wrapped in nothing more than a Hotel Harbourside bathrobe.
As she’d spoken to him the robe had slid open to reveal the tantalising shadow between her breasts. Her face had been flushed and her hair damp. It was obvious she’d just stepped out of the shower and the thought of her naked had been almost more than his libido could take.
Naked in one of his hotel bathrooms. Naked under one of his hotel’s bathrobes. It hadn’t taken much to take the thought a step further to her naked on one of his hotel’s beds. With the hotel’s owner taking passionate possession.
He’d had to grit his teeth and force his gaze to somewhere above her head.
When she’d kissed him it had taken every ounce of his iron-clad self-control not to take her in his arms and kiss her properly. Not on the cheek but claiming her mouth, tasting her with his tongue, exploring her sexy body with hungry hands. Backing her into the room and onto the bed.
No.
There’d be no catching up on old times. Or letting his libido lead him where he had vowed not to go.
He cleared his throat. ‘Isn’t this conversation irrelevant to you running the bookstore for Aunt Ida?’
Sandy met his gaze in a way that let him know she knew only too well he was steering the conversation away from anything personal.
‘Of course. You’re absolutely right.’
She turned to face the hospital bed.
‘Ida, tell me about any special orders.’ Then she looked back at him, her head at a provocative angle. Her eyes gleamed with challenge. ‘Is that better, Mr President?’
He looked to Ida for support, but her eyes narrowed as she looked from him to Sandy and back again.
It