Читать книгу Slippery When Wet - Kristin Hardy - Страница 8

ELIOT HAD GOTTEN IT WRONG. April wasn’t the cruelest month, thought Taylor DeWitt as the needle sharp bits of ice whirled down in her face, February was. Late February, more precisely, the month of bone-chilling sleet, the month when winter seemed endless, the month of her worst ordeals.

On the other hand, February had been the month she’d gained her freedom, the month she’d found her strength, the month she’d launched her business three years before. An uncommonly successful launch, she thought, shivering at the edge of the crosswalk in the biting wind that blew in off Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and plastered her chin-length blond hair down to her head. The city’s picturesque Chesapeake Bay location lost some of its charm in winter. Farther inland, powdery snow might blanket the rolling Maryland countryside, but here in Baltimore the winters were just icy, clammy and bleak, making people eager to go somewhere warm.

Small wonder then that February was the busiest time in the local travel industry, especially for an agency that specialized in tropical getaways the way hers did. Or had up to now, she thought balefully. She scowled at the scaffolding and construction barriers surrounding the skyscraper that housed her office. Being downtown kept her close to her corporate clients while bringing her walk-in business from the shopping and conference area. The location had been pure gold for her, but for months now, the loss of business due to construction had her company teetering on financial worry. Meanwhile, Alan Champlin of Champlin Travel kept hanging around to tempt her with flattery and a juicy buyout offer.

Another blast of icy wind whisked up under her coat as she crossed with the light and she gave a heartfelt curse. Thank God she was headed south soon. If construction was going to have her offices closed anyway, it only made sense. Her agents could still work at home. Taylor had warmer plans: two weeks of reviewing properties in the Caribbean, and then a few precious days for herself in Mexico.

She worked her way around the pedestrian detour that led to her office. The agency had only just begun making a comfortable profit the year before. She had a bit of a cushion from that and from the modest trust fund she’d used to launch the venture, but no firm could sustain such a revenue hit month after month. Four weeks, she reminded herself. In four weeks it would be done.

Or so the landlord had promised.

Despite the financial woes that dogged her, Taylor couldn’t help smiling at the gold palm trees stenciled on the glass, the curling letters that spelled out DeWitt Travel. The business was hers, and she’d made a success of it, even with her current challenges. No way was she going to sell out to some mall chain. The chime jingled as she pushed open the door.

“Hi, Allie,” she said to the receptionist, who sat behind her modular breakfront. “Did I get any messages while…”

“That’s a crock,” a voice said angrily. A male voice. “I bought the insurance, I did everything I was supposed to. Don’t tell me it’s no good.”

Taylor looked over the ivy-topped barrier behind the receptionist. Whoever he was, he was tall enough for her to see his tousled light brown hair, not to mention a not-inconsiderable pair of shoulders clad in a dark blue parka.

“You need to fix it. Now.” The words held the snap of ire and command. Taylor stepped swiftly into the office area.

He stood in front of Glynnis’s desk. Glynnis was her newbie agent, who looked half alarmed, half mesmerized. All Taylor could see was faded jeans, heavy work boots, and the parka.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked in the calm, reasonable voice she’d developed to soothe even the crankiest customers.

He spun around to look at her and she understood the expression on Glynnis’s face. He was tall. He was intimidating. He was obviously angry.

And he was undeniably gorgeous.

It took a conscious effort of will to remain cool. Cool, she found, was the best way of defusing anyone’s anger. Except Bennett, who’d only ever gotten angrier, but he was only a dark memory.

This one had the carved cheekbones and strong chin of a Viking, and the menacing Viking had only fury in his eyes. His jawline might have been as taut as it looked, or maybe it was just because it was currently clenched in anger. She could imagine him clad in leather and fur, striding ashore from his galley to lay waste to a helpless town. His eyes, though, surprised her. Deep set and long lashed, they were a sea-green.

And currently narrowed in irritation.

“A problem? I’ll tell you what the problem is. I bought travel insurance nine months ago when I booked this trip. Now I need to cancel and your agent is telling me that I can’t.”

“We can cancel it, sir. We just can’t get you your money back.” Glynnis looked at her helplessly. “He got the basic insurance package.”

“Let me see.” Taylor reached out for the policy. “This is trip interruption insurance. It’s standard. Covers family death or hospitalization. Why are you canceling, Mr….”

“Carson. Dev Carson.” His words were clipped. “The trip was a honeymoon. The wedding’s been called off.”

Wedded bliss wasn’t for everyone, that much she knew from bitter personal experience. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” he said shortly.

“Yes, well…” She scanned the insurance contract but she already knew the terms by heart. “Unfortunately, this policy doesn’t cover your reason for cancellation.”

“Then why do you sell it?”

She needed to concentrate on the discussion, not on the alarmingly fascinating angles and planes of his face. “It covers what most people need,” Taylor said automatically. “On occasion, when we know people’s plans call for something more comprehensive, we have that as well.”

“It’s not like I planned to call off my wedding. I didn’t get a detailed explanation of the coverage choices. Under the circumstances, I think I should get my money back.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Carson. There’s nothing I can do. If the trip were just a couple of days perhaps we could work something out, but this is—” she scanned his file “—three weeks. We simply can’t swing it, especially since you’re scheduled to leave in four days.” Especially now, when the company was as cash poor as it could be.

His brows lowered. “Do you think I can afford to throw away that kind of money on nothing?”

“Perhaps you could still go. We could try to get the tour company to allow you to substitute companions. Maybe you could take a friend.”

“I’m not feeling like company at the moment,” he snapped. Just for a moment, an emotion other than anger flared in those sea-colored eyes. “Look, I bought the insurance I was offered. What are you going to do to make good on it?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

It was Taylor’s turn to bristle. “Let’s not get personal about this.”

“Oh, but it is personal, Ms. DeWitt,” he said silkily, reading her name off her badge. “My fiancée and I chose a destination—and insurance—based on your agency’s recommendation. You look like the sort of person who believes in standing behind her business.”

Those extraordinary eyes held steady on hers. Guilt pricked at her. If times had been better, she’d probably have offered to make good on his trip. But times weren’t good, Champlin was stalking her agency, and taking an $8,000 hit was simply out of the question.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Carson. I’ll check into whether any of the resorts or the tour company will give you a break. I warn you, though, at this point it’s unlikely.”

“What’s unlikely is that I or anyone I know will use your agency again,” he said tightly.

“I’d urge you to reconsider taking the trip. Cozumel is lovely this time of year. I’ll be down there myself soon on business.”

“Yeah? Well, I hope you make a better choice of travel agencies than I did,” he said cuttingly and stalked out, letting in a blast of cold, damp air.