“You must have done a good job.”
“I don’t know about that. I guess. I do know that even though I was still in high school, the owner put a great deal of trust in me and I didn’t want to let her down. It was the very best on-the-job training I could have received.”
Eliza had fantasized about taking over the Seaswept Inn eventually, but then the economy in the area took a hit and Karen had been forced to sell.
“After I graduated from high school, I was able to get a scholarship and obtained a degree in hotel management. I always wanted to open a small inn somewhere.”
Nothing big, just something she could dabble in while raising her family, too. How many times had Trent promised that when all his plans became reality, he would be able to buy her any inn she wanted? Countless. Like so many other plans they had made together when things were good, those dreams had died along with him.
“When my family arrives, you should talk to Lucy, my brother Brendan’s fiancée.”
“Oh?”
“This summer, she turned one of the historic silver-dynasty mansions in Hope’s Crossing into a bed-and-breakfast. I stayed there during my dad’s wedding and was really impressed.”
“It sounds lovely.”
“Yes. The thing is, Lucy is relatively new to the hospitality industry. I think it’s safe to say she’s still trying to figure things out. With your years of experience, you could probably give her all kinds of great tips.”
She couldn’t deny she was flattered. “Of course. I don’t know how much insight I can offer but I would love to talk shop with her.”
“Lucy is a marketing genius. Knowing her, by now she probably has network connections throughout the industry, including people who might be looking to hire someone with exactly your skills. I can have her put out some feelers for you, if you would like.”
She couldn’t afford to turn down his help. “Thanks.”
“I’m assuming you want to stay in Idaho.”
“If possible. Maddie’s doctors are all in Boise. I don’t want to have to start over somewhere new.”
“That makes sense.” He was quiet for a long moment. “How is she, really, if that’s not too intrusive a question? She seems perfectly healthy to me.”
“Right now she is. We’ve had a really good year. There’s a chance that will continue indefinitely. Some children with atypical cardiomyopathy never end up needing a transplant. Their condition is managed with a pacemaker and medication.”
“I hope that’s how things go for you and Maddie. She’s a great kid who deserves a normal, happy childhood.”
She smiled, touched by his words. “I agree. That’s been my prayer for her from the day the doctors first suspected her condition.”
“You’re a good mother. She’s lucky to have you.”
His quiet words seemed to seep into her own heart, past all her fears and inadequacies, warming a tiny space that had been cold and alone for so very long. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. I know it can’t be easy to have a child with health issues, especially when you’re on your own.”
“I’m not some kind of a saint, Aidan,” she said, her voice low. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that. Sometimes the strain and worry over her seems more than I can bear by myself. I cry myself to sleep some nights, wishing with all my heart that we could have that normal childhood you were talking about. Sometimes I’m so damn angry at God or fate or whatever for making my baby have to suffer. Other times, I just want to pick her up and run away to some tropical island somewhere and pretend everything is fine.”
She had never told anyone that before. Not even Trent. By the time he died, their relationship had been so strained, she’d kept most of her deepest emotions locked away for fear of completely unbalancing the precarious load that had become their lives together.
Why she had confided in Aidan, she didn’t quite know. Something about the night and the fire and the snowfall seemed conducive to sharing secrets.
She shouldn’t have said anything. She barely knew the man—and he was her employer. He didn’t need to know how tangled and chaotic her psyche could be.
“You’re probably wondering what kind of hot mess you’ve hired.”
He smiled a little and she was happy to see no trace of the pain that had etched his mouth earlier. “Actually, no. I was just thinking that while I truly regret the circumstances that led to meeting you, I can’t be sorry I did.”
His low words and the expression in those vivid blue eyes seemed to shiver through her. He wasn’t looking at her like he thought she was crazy. She saw admiration and respect and something else, a spark of something hot and hungry that sent nerves suddenly jumping through her stomach like butterflies doing the paso doble.
She caught her breath. She was imagining things. She had to be. It was only a trick of the firelight. Aidan Caine, gazillionaire tech genius and all-around geek hottie, couldn’t possibly be interested in her, the perpetually stressed single mother he had rescued literally off the street the day before.
“I should go. It’s late and I have a busy day ahead tomorrow.”
If she didn’t leave, she would make a complete fool of herself over him. Hadn’t she just told him how she wanted to escape her problems and pretend they didn’t exist? He was the ultimate fantasy, the gorgeous and insanely wealthy man who would swoop in and rescue her from the stress and angst of her life.
And the whole brain-tumor thing, knowing he had walked through the valley of the shadow and all that. It brought out all her nurturing instincts and made her want to cradle his head to her breast and take care of him.
She could just see herself falling hard for him—and ending up battered and bruised emotionally. Not what she needed.
He rose as well. “Sorry I kept you up so late.”
“You didn’t. I...enjoyed talking with you.”
The flames flickered over his features, making him look rakish, slightly dangerous and infinitely appealing. She swallowed, trying to will herself to move toward her room but something seemed to hold her in place.
“Good night,” she murmured, at the same moment he said her name. Only her name, and then he murmured something that could have been a curse or a prayer and the next moment he stepped toward her and lowered his mouth to hers.
YES. THIS.
Eliza caught her breath at the first touch of his mouth on hers, firm, minty, delicious. He smelled so good, leather and sage and perhaps a hint of peppery citrus.
Some little voice in her mind whispered this was a lousy idea but she shoved it hard into a corner, tossed a big pile of mental debris on top of it and turned back to relishing his mouth against hers.
The attraction she had been fighting since she walked into the darkened kitchen—okay, let’s be honest, since she opened her eyes the day before and found that lean, compelling face gazing down at her—seemed to simmer through her, frothy and bright.
He kissed like a man used to taking what he wanted from the world, with single-minded concentration—as if he wanted to tease out every secret, every fantasy.
She was completely unprepared for the riot of sensations he evoked.