Читать книгу The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner - Kandy Shepherd - Страница 8
ОглавлениеAS SHE WENT about her lunchtime front-of-house duties at the Hotel Harbourside restaurant, Kate Parker was only too aware of the ill-concealed interest in her. The too-interested glances quickly averted; the undertones; the murmurs.
Poor Kate.
If she heard—or sensed—that phrase one more time, she’d scream.
Her and her big, big mouth.
Why, oh, why had she made such a big deal of her childhood crush on Jesse Morgan? She wished she’d never told a soul, let alone all and sundry in her home town of Dolphin Bay, that the next time Jesse was back she’d finally let him know how she really felt about him.
Because now he was home, now she had kissed him for the first time since they’d been just kids fifteen years ago, and it had turned out a total disaster. She’d felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Instead of turning her on, his kiss had turned her off. She’d fought the urge to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.
And Jesse? He’d been as embarrassed and awkward as she’d been. They’d parted, barely able to look each other in the eye.
She cringed at the memory—as she’d cringed a hundred times already—as painfully fresh today as it had been three days ago when it had occurred.
And now everyone in their small community knew she’d made an utter fool of herself by believing there could be anything more between her and Jesse than the affection due to a family friend she’d known since they’d both been in nappies.
Poor Kate.
The air was thick with pity for her. She looked around the restaurant; many of the tables were already full for Sunday lunch.
She wanted to run out the door, down the steps onto the beach below and get home to lock herself in her bedroom with the music turned up loud.
Instead, she girded herself against the gossip. She forced herself to smile. First, because a warm, confident smile was essential to any role in hospitality. And second, because she couldn’t bear for any of those too-interested townsfolk to guess how churned up, anxious and panicky she was feeling inside.
It meant nothing, people, she wanted to broadcast to the room in general. Less than nothing. I walked away from that darn kiss completely unaffected.
But that wouldn’t be completely true.
Because the Great Kiss Disaster had left her doubting everything she’d believed about who was the right man for her. She’d discovered the man she’d thought was Mr Perfect was not, in fact. So where did she go next? How could she ever trust her judgement of men again?
Smile. Smile. Smile.
The restaurant in the award-winning hotel was one of the best places to eat in Dolphin Bay. More people were arriving for lunch. She had a job she valued. She wanted to be promoted to hotel manager and she wouldn’t achieve that by moping around feeling sorry for herself.
She took a deep, steadying breath, forced her lips to curve upwards in a big welcome and aimed it at the next customer—a man who had pushed his way through the glass doors that led from the steps from the beach and into the restaurant.
She nearly dropped the bottle of wine she was holding with hands that had gone suddenly nerveless. He caught her smile and nodded in acknowledgement.
Where the heck had he come from?
She’d never seen him in Dolphin Bay before, that was for sure.
Dark-haired, tall and powerfully built, his broad shoulders and muscular arms strained against his black T-shirt, his hard thighs against the worn denim of his jeans. His heavy black boots were hardly seaside resort wear, but they worked. Boy, did they work.
No wonder the two young waitresses on duty stampeded past her to show him to the best table in the house. She had to hold herself back from pulling rank and elbowing them out of the way to get to him first.
His stance was easy, confident, as he waited to be shown to a table. Her heart started to pound double-quick time. When had she last felt the kind of awareness of a man that made her ache for him to notice her?
But, when his gaze did turn in her direction, she quickly ducked her head and studiously read the label on the wine bottle without registering a single word.
She looked up again to see the young waitress who had won the race to get to him first looking up at him in open admiration and laughing at something he’d said. Did the guy realise half the female heads in the room had swivelled to attention when he’d strode in?
Not that he looked like he cared much about what people thought. His dark brown hair was several months away from a haircut—shoved back off his face with his fingers rather than a comb, by the look of it. The dark growth on his jaw was halfway to a beard.
He looked untamed. Sexy. And dangerous.
Way too dangerous.
She was shocked by the powerful punch of attraction that slammed her, the kind of visceral pull that had caused her such terrible hurt in the past. That was so different from how she’d felt for safe, familiar Jesse. She never wanted to feel again for any man that wild compulsion. The kind, when it had got out of control, that had led her down paths she never wanted to revisit.
Not now. Not ever.
She let the smile freeze on her face, stepped back and watched the other girl usher the handsome stranger to his table. She would hold off on her obligatory meet and greet to a new customer until she’d got herself together enough to mask her awareness of his appeal with breezy nonchalance. To use the light, semi-flirtatious tone that worked so well in hospitality.
Because, after all, he was just a stranger who’d breezed into town. She’d overreacted, big-time. She didn’t need to fear that rush of attraction for an unsuitable man. He was just a customer she would never see again after he’d finished his lunch and moved on. He didn’t even seem the kind of guy who would leave a generous tip.
* * *
Sam Lancaster knew he should be admiring the glorious view of the Dolphin Bay Harbour with its heritage-listed stone breakwaters, its fleet of fishing vessels and, beyond, the aquamarine waters of the Pacific Ocean. This stretch of the New South Wales south coast was known for its scenic beauty.
But he couldn’t keep his eyes off the even more appealing view of the sassy, red-haired front-of-house manager who flitted from table to table in the Hotel Harbourside restaurant, pausing to chat with each customer about their orders.
Sam wasn’t in the habit of flirting with strangers. He wasn’t the type of man who always had a ready quip for a pretty flight attendant, a cute girl behind a bar or a hot new trainer at the gym. Consequently, he was stymied by his out-of-the-blue attraction to this woman.
She hadn’t reached his table yet, and he found himself willing her to turn his way. In his head, he played over and over what clever remark he might utter when she did.
She wasn’t movie-star beautiful, but there was a vibrancy about her that kept his gaze returning to her again and again: the way the sunlight streaming through the windows turned the auburn of her tied-back hair to a glorious, flaming halo. The sensual sway of her hips in the modest black skirt. The murmur of her laughter as she chatted to a customer. All were compelling. But, when she finally headed his way, the warmth of her wide smile and the welcome that lit her green eyes made him forget every word he had rehearsed.
Her smile was of the practised meet-and-greet type she’d bestowed on every other customer in the room. He knew that. But that didn’t make it any less entrancing. She paused in front of his table. This close, he could see she had a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and that her smile was punctuated with the most charming dimples.
What was a woman as sensational as this one doing in a backwater like Dolphin Bay?
Good manners prompted him get up to greet her, stumbling a little around the compact, ultra-modern chair not designed for a man of his height and build. Her startled step backwards made him realise she was just doing her job and a customer would usually remain seated. He gritted his teeth; he really wasn’t good at this. Where was a clever quip when he needed one?
But she quickly recovered herself. ‘Hi, I’m Kate Parker; welcome to Hotel Harbourside. Thank you for joining us for lunch.’ Her voice was low and throaty without being self-consciously sexy and transformed the standard customer greeting spiel into something he’d like to put on a repeat loop.
He thrust out his hand in greeting. ‘Sam Lancaster.’
Again she looked startled. He’d startled himself—since when did he shake hands with waitresses? But she took his hand in a firm, businesslike grip. He noted she wasn’t wearing a ring of any kind.
‘Hi, Sam Lancaster,’ she said, her teasing tone making a caress of the everyday syllables of his name. ‘Is everything okay at your table?’
He cleared his throat. ‘F...fine.’
That was all he managed to choke out. Not one other word of that carefully thought out repartee.
Damn it.
He was a man used to managing a large, successful company. To never being short of female company if he didn’t want it. But he couldn’t seem to get it together in front of this girl.
He realised he’d gripped her warm, slender hand for a moment too long and he released it.
She glanced down at the menu on the table, then back up at him, the smile still dancing in her eyes. She knew. Of course she knew. A woman like this would be used to the most powerful of men stuttering in her presence. ‘Have you ordered lunch yet? I can recommend the grilled snapper, freshly caught this morning.’
‘Thank you, no. I’ll order when my friend gets to the table.’
One winged auburn eyebrow quirked. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘A lady friend?’ She flushed. ‘Forgive me. None of my business, of course.’
‘Nothing to forgive,’ he said, pleased he’d given her cause to wonder about the sex of his lunch companion. ‘While I’m waiting for him, I’m admiring the view of the harbour,’ he said. ‘It’s really something.’
But the view of her was so much more enticing.
‘No charge for the view,’ she said. ‘It’s on the house.’ She laughed, a low, husky laugh that made him think of slow, sensual kisses on lazy summer afternoons.
He couldn’t look at her in case he gave away the direction of his thoughts. Instead he glanced to the full-length windows that faced east. ‘I reckon it must be one of the most beautiful harbours on the south coast.’
‘Hey, just on the south coast? I say the most beautiful in the whole of Australia,’ she said with mock indignation.
‘Okay. So it’s the very best harbour in Australia—if not the world,’ he agreed, playing along with her.
‘That’s better,’ she said with a dimpled smile.
‘I like the dolphins too.’
‘You mean the real ones or the fake ones plastered on every building in town?’
‘I didn’t see them on every building,’ he said. ‘But I thought the dolphin rubbish bins everywhere had character.’
She put her hand on her forehead in a theatrical gesture of mock despair. ‘Oh, please don’t talk to me about those dolphin bins. People around here get into fights over whether they should go or they should stay, now Dolphin Bay has expanded so much. It was such a sleepy town when they were originally put up.’
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘Me? I have to confess to being a total dolphin-bin freak. I love ’em! I adored them when I was a kid and would defend them to the last dorsal fin if anyone tried to touch them.’
She mimicked standing with her arms outstretched behind her as if there was something she was shielding from harm. The pretend-fierce look on her face was somewhat negated by her dimples.
In turn, Sam assumed a mock stance of defence. ‘I’m afraid. Very afraid. I won’t hurt your dolphin bins.’
Her peal of laughter rang out over the hum of conversation and clatter of cutlery. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ She pretend-pouted. ‘I’m harmless, I assure you.’
Harmless? She was far from harmless when it came to this instant assault on his senses.
‘Lucky I said I liked the bins, then,’ he said.
‘Indeed. I might not have been responsible for my actions if you’d derided them.’
He laughed. She was enchanting.
‘Seriously, though,’ she continued. ‘I’ve lived here for most of my life and I never tire of it, dolphins and all. April is one of the best times to enjoy this area. The water’s still warm and the Easter crowds have gone home. Are you passing through?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m staying in Dolphin Bay for the next week. I’ll check in to the hotel after lunch.’
‘That’s great to hear.’ She hit him with that smile again. ‘I’m the deputy manager. It’ll be wonderful to have you as our guest.’
Could he read something into that? Did she feel even just a hint of the instant attraction he felt for her? Or was she just being officially enthusiastic?
‘Let me know if there’s anything you need,’ she said.
A dinner date with you?
Gorgeous Kate Parker had probably spent longer than she should at his table. There were other customers for her to meet and greet. But Sam couldn’t think of an excuse to keep her there any longer. He was going to have to bite the bullet and ask her out. For a drink; for dinner; any opportunity to get to know her.
‘Kate, I—’
He was just about to suggest a date when his mobile phone buzzed to notify him of a text message. He ignored it. It buzzed again.
‘Go on, please check it,’ Kate said, taking a step back from his table. ‘It might be important.’
Sam gritted his teeth. At this moment nothing—even a message from the multi-national company that was bidding for a takeover of Lancaster & Son Construction—was more important than ensuring he saw this girl again. He pulled the phone from his pocket and scanned the text.
He looked up at Kate. ‘My friend Jesse is running late,’ he grumbled. ‘I hope he gets here soon. After a four-hour trip from Sydney, I’m starving.’
Kate’s green eyes widened. ‘Jesse?’ Her voice sounded strangled. ‘You mean...Jesse Morgan?’
‘Do you know him? I guess you do.’
She nodded. ‘Yes. It’s a small town. I...I know him well.’
So Kate was a friend of Jesse’s? That made getting to know her so much easier. Suddenly she wasn’t just staff at the hotel and he a guest; they were connected through a mutual friend.
It was the best piece of news he’d had all day.
* * *
Kate was reeling. Hotter-than-hot Sam Lancaster was a friend of Jesse’s? That couldn’t, couldn’t be. What unfair quirk of coincidence was this?
Despite her initial misgiving about Sam, she’d found she liked his smile, his easy repartee. She’d found herself looking forward to seeing him around the hotel. No way was she looking for romance—not with the Jesse humiliation so fresh. But she could admire how good-looking Sam was, even let herself flirt ever so lightly, knowing he’d be gone in a week. But the fact he was Jesse’s friend complicated things.
What if Jesse had told Sam about the kiss disaster? She’d thought she’d fulfilled her cringe quotient for the day. But, at the thought of Sam hearing about the kiss calamity, she cringed a little more.
She should quickly back away from Sam’s table. The last thing she wanted was to encounter Jesse not only in front of this gorgeous guy, but also the restaurant packed with too-interested observers, their gossip antennae finely tuned.
But she simply could not resist a few more moments in Sam Lancaster’s company before she beat a retreat—maybe to the kitchen, at least to the other side of the room—so she could avoid a confrontation with Jesse when he eventually arrived.
‘Where do you know Jesse from?’ she asked, trying to sound chirpy rather than churning with anxiety.
‘Jesse’s a mate of mine from university days in Sydney,’ Sam said in his deep, resonant voice. ‘We were both studying engineering. Jesse was two years behind me, but we played on the same uni football team. We used to go skiing together, too.’
So that made Sam around aged thirty to her twenty-eight.
‘And you’ve stayed friends ever since?’ she said.
She’d so much prefer it if he and Jesse were casual acquaintances.
‘We lost touch for a while but met up again two years ago on a building site in India, rebuilding the villages damaged in those devastating floods.’
She hadn’t put darkly handsome Sam down as the type who would do active charity work in a far-flung part of the world. It was a surprise of the best kind.
‘So you work for the same international aid organisation as Jesse?’ she asked.
‘No. I worked as a volunteer during my vacation. We volunteers provided the grunt work. In my case, as a carpenter.’
That figured. His hand had felt callused when she’d shaken it earlier.
‘I’m seriously impressed. That’s so...noble.’ This hot, hunky man, who would have female hearts fluttering wherever he went, spent his hard-earned vacation working without pay in a developing country in what no doubt were dirty and dangerous conditions.
‘Noble? That’s a very nice thing to say, but I’d hardly call it that. It was hot and sweaty and damn hard work,’ he said. ‘I was just glad to be of help in what was a desperate situation for so many people.’
‘I bet it wasn’t much fun, but you were actually helping people in trouble. In my book, that’s noble—and you won’t make me think otherwise.’
He shrugged those impressively broad shoulders. ‘It was an eye-opener. Sure made me appreciate the life I have at home.’
‘I’ve thought about volunteering, but I’ve never actually done it. What made you sign up?’
His face tightened and shutters seemed to come down over his deep, brown eyes. ‘It just seemed a good thing to do. A way to give back.’ The tone of his voice made her wonder if he was telling her everything. But then, why should he?
Sam Lancaster was a guest—his personal life was none of her concern. In fact, she had to be careful not to overstep the mark of what was expected of a deputy manager on front-of-house duty on a busy Sunday.
It was as well to be brought back to reality.
She returned her voice to hospitality impartial. ‘I’m so glad it worked out for you.’ She glanced down at his menu. ‘Do you want to order while you’re waiting for Jesse?’ It was an effort to say Jesse’s name with such disinterest.
‘I’ll wait for him. Though I’m looking forward to exploring the menu; it looks very good.’ Sam glanced around him and nodded approvingly. ‘I like the way Ben built this hotel. No wonder it won architectural awards.’
‘Ben, as in Jesse’s brother? My boss? Owner of Hotel Harbourside?’ She couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.
‘I’m friends with Ben as well as Jesse,’ he said.
‘Of course you would be,’ she replied.
If she’d entertained for one moment the idea of following up her attraction to Sam Lancaster, she squashed it right now. She’d grown up with Ben too. The Morgans had been like family. The thought of conducting any kind of relationship with Sam under the watchful, teasing eyes of the Morgan brothers was inconceivable—especially if Jesse had told him about the kiss.
‘Do you go way back with Ben, too?’
‘He joined Jesse and me on a couple of ski trips to Thredbo,’ said Sam. ‘We all skied together.’
‘More partying and drinking than actual skiing, I’ll bet,’ she said.
‘What happens on ski trip, stays on ski trip,’ said Sam with that devastating smile.
Individually, his irregular features didn’t make for handsome. But together: the olive skin; the eyes as dark as bitter chocolate; the crooked nose; his sensual mouth; the dark, thick eyebrows, intersected by that intriguing small scar, added up to a face that went a degree more than handsome.
Jesse or Ben had not been hit with the ugly stick, either. She could only imagine what that trio of good-looking guys would have got up to in the party atmosphere of the New South Wales ski slopes. She knew only too well how wild it could be.
She’d gone skiing with her university ski-club during her third year in Sydney for her business degree. The snowfields were only a day’s drive away from Sydney, but they might as well have been a world away.
Social life had outweighed skiing. That winter break they’d all gone crazy with the freedom from study, from families, from rules. If she’d met Sam then she would have gone for him, that was for sure. Instead she’d met someone else. Someone who in subsequent months had hurt her so badly she’d slipped right back into that teenage dream of kind, trustworthy Jesse. Someone who had bred the unease she felt at the thought of dating men with untamed good looks like Sam.
‘So you’re friends with Ben, too; I didn’t know. We all went our separate ways during the time you guys must have met each other.’ A thought struck her. ‘Ah, now I get it. You’re in Dolphin Bay for Ben and Sandy’s wedding on Saturday.’
‘Correct,’ he said. ‘Though I’m not one for weddings and all the waste-of-time fuss that surrounds them.’
Kate drew herself up to her full five-foot-five and put her hands on her hips in mock rebuke. ‘Waste-of-time fuss? I don’t know if I can forgive you for that comment as I happen to be the wedding planner for these particular nuptials.’
‘Deputy manager of a hotel like this and a wedding planner? You’re the very definition of a multi-tasker.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you,’ she said. ‘I like to keep busy. And I like to know what’s going on. Jesse calls me the self-appointed arbiter of everyone’s business in Dolphin Bay.’
She regretted the words as soon as they’d slipped out of her mouth. Why, why, why did she have to bring up Jesse’s name?
But Sam just laughed. ‘That sounds like something Jesse would say. You must be good friends for him to get away with it.’
‘We are good friends,’ she said.
And that was all they ever should have been. When they’d been still just kids, they’d shared their clumsy, first-ever kiss. But it hadn’t happened again until three days ago when she’d provocatively asked her old friend why it had been so long between kisses. A suggestion that had backfired so badly.
‘What Jesse says is true,’ she continued. ‘He calls me a nosy parker. I like to call it a healthy curiosity about what’s going on.’
‘Necessary qualities for all your various occupations, I would think,’ he said.
‘Thank you. I think so too. I particularly need to be on top of the details of Ben’s wedding which is aaargh...’ she mimed tearing her hair out ‘...only six days away.’ She mentally ran through the guest list. ‘Now I think of it, there is a Sam on the guest list; I’ve been meaning to ask Ben who it was. I don’t know anything about him—uh, I mean you.’
Sam spread out both hands in a gesture of invitation. ‘I’m an open book. Fire away with the questions.’
She wagged a finger in mock-warning. ‘I wouldn’t say that to a stickybeak like me. Give me carte blanche and you might be here all day answering questions.’ What was she saying? ‘Uh, I mean as they relate to you as a wedding guest, that is.’
‘So I’ll limit them,’ he said. ‘Five questions should be all you need.’
Five questions? She’d like to know a heck of a lot more about Sam Lancaster than she could discover with five questions.
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ she said.
Do you have a girlfriend, fiancée, wife?
But she ignored the first question she really wanted to ask and chose the safe option. ‘Okay, so my first question is wedding-menu related—meat, fish or vegetarian?’
‘All of the above,’ he said without hesitation.
‘Good. That makes it easy. Question number two: what do you plan to do in the days before the wedding? Do you need me to organise any tours or activities?’
With me as the tour guide, perhaps.
He shook his head. ‘No need. There’s a work problem I have to think through.’
She itched with curiosity about what that problem could be—but questioning him about it went beyond the remit of wedding-related questions.
‘Okay. Just let me know if you change your mind. There’s dolphin-and whale-watching tours. Or hikes to Pigeon Mountain for spectacular views. Now for question number three: do you...?’
Something made her look up and she immediately wished she hadn’t. Jesse. Coming in late for his lunch. She swallowed a swear word. Why hadn’t she made her getaway while she could?
Too distracted by handsome Sam Lancaster.
Now this first post-kiss encounter with Jesse would have to be played out in front of Sam.
Act normal. Act normal. Smile.
But her paralysed mouth wouldn’t form into anything other than a tight line that barely curved upwards. Nor could she summon up so much as a breezy ‘hi’ for Jesse—the man she’d been friends with all her life, had been able to joke, banter and trade insults with like a brother.
Jesse pumped Sam’s hand. ‘Sorry, I got held up.’
‘No worries,’ said Sam, returning the handshake with equal vigour.
‘Kate,’ said Jesse with a friendly nod in her direction, though she didn’t think she was imagining a trace of the same awkwardness in his eyes that she was feeling. ‘So you’ve already met my mate Sam.’
‘Yes,’ was all she managed to choke out.
‘I see you got the best table in the house,’ Jesse said to Sam, indicating the view with a sweep of his hand.
‘And the best deputy manager,’ said Sam gruffly, nodding to Kate.
‘Why, thank you,’ she said. For Sam, her smile worked fine, a real smile, not her professional, hospitality smile.
Jesse cleared his throat in a way she’d never heard before. So he was feeling the awkwardness, too.
‘Yes; Kate is, beyond a doubt, awesome,’ he said. Kate recognised the exaggerated casualness of his tone. Would Sam?
‘We’re just friends,’ Kate blurted out. She shot a quick glance at Sam to see a bemused lift of his eyebrow.
‘Of course we’re just friends,’ Jesse returned, too quickly. He stepped around the table to hug her, as he always did when they met. ‘Kate and I go way back,’ he explained to Sam.
Kate stiffened as Jesse came near. She doubted she could ever return to their old casual camaraderie. It wasn’t that Jesse had done anything wrong when he’d kissed her. He just hadn’t done anything for her. He was probably a very good kisser for someone else.
But things had changed and she didn’t want his touch, even in the most casual way. She ducked to slide away.
Big, big mistake.
Sam frowned as he glanced from her to Jesse and back again. Kate could see his mental cogs whirring, putting two and two together and coming up with something other than the zero he should be seeing.
It alarmed her. Because she really wanted Sam Lancaster to know there was nothing between her and Jesse. That she was utterly and completely single.
‘Why don’t you join us for lunch?’ Jesse asked, pulling out the third chair around the table.
No way did she want to make awkward small talk with Jesse. The thought of using her three remaining questions to find out all about Sam Lancaster was appealing—but only when there was just him and her in the conversation.
She pointed her foot, clad in a black court pump, in the direction of the table. ‘Hear the ball and chain rattling? Ben would have a fit if I downed tools and fraternised with the guests.’
Did she imagine it, or did Sam’s gaze linger on her leg? She hastily drew it back. ‘Shame,’ he said. He sounded genuinely regretful.
Not only did she want to walk away as quickly as she could from this uncomfortable situation but she also had her responsibilities to consider. She’d spent way too much time already chatting with Sam. ‘Guys, I have to get back to work. I’ll send a waitress over straight away and tell the chef to fill your order, pronto. I’m sure you both must be hungry.’
In an ideal world, she’d turn and walk away right now—and not return to this end of the room until both men had gone—but before she went there was wedding business to be dealt with.
‘Jesse, will I see you this evening at Ben and Sandy’s house for the wedding-planning meeting? We need to run through your best-man duties.’
‘Of course,’ said Jesse. ‘And Sam will be there too.’
‘Sam?’ Ben had never mentioned that the Sam on the guest list would be part of the wedding party.
Sam shrugged those impressively broad shoulders. ‘I’ve got business with Ben. He asked me to come along tonight.’
She’d anticipated seeing Sam around the hotel, but not seeing him so soon and in a social situation. She couldn’t help a shiver of excitement at the thought. At the same time, she was a little put out she hadn’t been informed of the extra person. Didn’t her friends realise a wedding planner needed to know these things? What other surprises might they spring on her at this late stage?
Ben hadn’t mentioned employing a carpenter. Were they planning on getting Sam to construct a wooden wedding arch on the beach where the ceremony was to be held? She wished they’d told her. They were counting down six days to the wedding.
But she would find that out later. Right now she had to get back to work.
‘I’ll see you tonight, Kate,’ said Sam.
Did she imagine the promise she heard in his voice?
