Читать книгу Her Man To Remember - Suzanne McMinn, Suzanne Mcminn - Страница 9

What drugs had she been on when she’d decided this was a good idea?

Okay, she didn’t do drugs. Had never done drugs. That she knew of. But Leah was pretty sure she’d been high on something when the words, If you still want me to, I can show you around, had popped out of her mouth.

Morrie had asked her to get to know his potential buyer. He wanted to sell the bar, but not to just anyone. He wanted to know the bar wouldn’t be torn down or all the staff fired. But she hadn’t had to offer to take Roman around town. It had been an impulsive, stupid idea. It wasn’t even like her to be impulsive. At least, if it ever had been like her, it wasn’t like her now. She was careful, cautious, wary.

But she knew what’d had her high.

Roman Bradshaw’s dimple that—when he smiled—made her think he wasn’t scary at all. But it was an illusion. He was scary. Her strong reaction to him was proof.

And now she was stuck with him for the whole morning. Thank God they weren’t alone.

Smugglers Village teemed with activity. The boardwalk included a bookstore, a sandal shop, a sportsman’s paradise, the standard touristy T-shirt booth and a cozy little restaurant offering a menu of Keysy food. The Artisans Cove was full of New Age samplings like incense, candles, oils, yoga guides, along with jewelry and clothing. A number of artists showcased their work on consignment, taking turns to work in the shop. Leah manned the counter one morning a week.

“So these are yours.” Roman touched a display of beaded bracelets. He’d dressed in jeans today, with a white T-shirt that clung to his shoulders and pecs. He was an eye-catching man, and she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

The artist working the cash register had lifted her brows when they’d come in, but Marian had been helping another customer, thankfully. Leah felt uncomfortable coming into the shop with Roman. She’d made it clear to everyone she knew that she wasn’t interested in dating, and she didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea now.

“Yes, those are mine,” she said, then realized he’d pointed them out before she’d told him. “How did you know?”

“Just guessed,” he answered easily. “They remind me of the work I saw in your apartment.”

“These are mine, too.” Leah pointed at another rack holding crystal and ethnic stone necklaces. “And the designs in that window.” She indicated a clothing nook near the door. “I use all hand-printed fabrics from a studio in Key West.”

“They’re beautiful,” Roman said. “I’m impressed.”

His fingers were long, strong-looking, and she found herself staring at them. Wanting to touch them.

“Don’t be,” she said. “It’s nothing. It’s just something I do for fun.” She forced herself to look away from his hands, unnerved by how everything about him fascinated her, drew her and repulsed her all at once.

He turned from the jewelry counter, an intense look suddenly crossing his face. “You always do that.”

“Always do what?” A dizzy sensation crawled up her spine. Do I know you? And he’d told her no. Had he lied? How would she ever know?

“You put yourself down. You never—”

“You don’t even know me. How can you say that?”

Now he was the one who looked off-kilter, and his gaze on her was odd.

“You’re right.” He looked away. “I don’t know why I said that. These are great, that’s all. I gave you a compliment. Just say thank you.” There was something suddenly sad in his face.

“Thank you,” she said, and had a strange urge to add… What? She didn’t even know.

The bell on the door clanged. The customer had left the shop. Marian hurried over. Her gaze on Roman was clearly appreciative.

Leah felt a weird twist in her chest.

“Hi, Leah.” She was still looking at Roman.

“Marian, this is Roman Bradshaw. From New York. He’s thinking of buying the Shark and Fin. I’m showing him around the Key a bit. Marian’s another artist,” she explained to Roman. “She’s a potter.”

“I see. Well, welcome to Thunder Key, Roman Bradshaw.” Marian stuck her hand out and smiled flirtatiously.

Roman took her hand briefly. Marian was tall, blond, self-assured. Everything Leah was not. Dammit, was she jealous? She had never felt this way before, and she didn’t like it. Marian was a sweetie, and truly, she’d been a good friend. She was the one who’d invited Leah to join the Artisans Cove group. She was single and manhunting—as Marian herself put it—and Leah had made a huge point of the fact that she wasn’t.

But she hated how Marian was looking at Roman. It made her feel possessive and childish and ridiculous.

“Thank you,” Roman said to Marian. Marian smiled.

Leah pointed out some of Marian’s work, and Roman made some appreciative comments.

After a few minutes Roman said to Leah, “I noticed they sell buckets of fish at the marina. How about taking a walk out there? I’d like to discuss a few things Morrie brought up with me on the phone.”

A mix of feelings tangled inside her. She was stupidly flattered that he was showing no interest in Marian whatsoever. Instead, his heavy, cloaked gaze arrowed intensely on Leah. Which was exactly why, at the same time, she felt so horribly uneasy.

“All right.” What else could she say, do? As long as they were discussing business, everything would be fine.

But it didn’t feel like business when he opened the door of the shop, placed a gentle hand beneath her elbow as they walked out onto the boardwalk. Leah walked faster, moving away from his touch.

“Bye,” Marian called. The bell above the shop door clanged as it shut behind them.

“She liked you,” Leah forced herself to slow down enough to comment. “She’s a really sweet person. If you…you know, if you’re interested in having some fun, seeing the nightlife, Marian is really the person to show you around. She’s a lot of fun and—”

She realized he’d stopped. She turned, looked back at him.

“Are you trying to set me up?” He seemed amused.

The reggae band was warming up. The sun beat down on the boardwalk, alive with tourists in the still-cool morning air. The underlying heat brushed her skin. Soon it would be another blazing-hot Keys day.

“No, I—” She didn’t know what to say. She felt like an idiot every time she opened her mouth around this man. “You’re here on vacation. I guess it’s kind of a working vacation, but still… I’m sure you want to have some fun, and Marian—”

“Look, I’m not interested in Marian. And I’m not trying to come on to you, either. But if I buy the bar, we’re going to be working together. You’re not interested in me. You’re a lesbian. I got it. You don’t have to keep telling me. Maybe you should date Marian.”

Stupider and stupider. That’s how she felt. But she couldn’t help laughing. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re really starting to damage my self-esteem,” he said, a teasing note entering his deep voice. “I’m going to need therapy if you keep telling me how much you don’t want to date me.”

He stuck his hand out.

“Friends?” he said.

She met his now-serious gaze. “Friends.” She put her hand in his. There went the twist in her chest again, but what choice did she have? Morrie had been thrilled someone was interested in the bar, even if somewhat wary yet. Things were going well in New Mexico, and selling the Shark and Fin would mean he could make his move out there permanent. She owed Morrie so much.

And if I buy the bar, we’re going to be working together.

How had that thought not even entered her head till now? Somehow she had just assumed—

“Wouldn’t you be going back to New York? I thought this was just an investment for you?”

They left Smugglers Village, taking the boardwalk path that led to the marina. The sound of the reggae music filtered through the air.

“I plan to move here,” he said.

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed. Wow, I am going to need therapy.”

He smiled, and she was struck by the even whiteness of his teeth, and the way his dark eyes lit with mischief. There was something so contradictory about him. His entire bearing was so businesslike, reserved, and yet when he looked at her, there was a hint of vulnerability to his dark, shielded depths, and then there were those moments of lightness, not to mention those flashing dimples. She just couldn’t figure him out, and she shouldn’t even want to.

“No, I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Shocked, more like it.

“You can’t see me living here on the Keys?”

“No. Well, you’re from the city. You’re—”

“What? You don’t even know me. How can you say that?” He tossed her own words back at her with another flare of light in his enigmatic eyes.

She stopped in front of the marina, bit her lip. He was sexy, dangerous, all male. And so very close to her, his look on her so very intense.

“You’re right,” she said abruptly. “I don’t have a right to say anything about you at all. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She couldn’t tell him what she was thinking.

“You’re not completely wrong,” he said.

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I’m from the city,” he explained. “The life here on the Keys—it’s not me. Or, it wasn’t me. But things have changed. I’ve changed.” He looked out toward the water. Something in his face struck her as terribly painful, and her heart gave another wrench in response. Was he thinking of his wife, the one he’d lost in an accident? “I want it to be me,” he finished quietly.

She didn’t want to feel anything for him at all, but the look in his eyes made her wish she was a different person, the type of person who could put her arms around him and comfort him. And really just be friends.

“Do you believe people can change?”

His question took her by surprise, as did the look in his eyes, as if her answer truly mattered to him. Which, of course, it couldn’t. Why would it?

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I guess it depends on how much they want to.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat. “Come on,” he said then. “Let’s get a bucket.”

She followed him inside the marina. He paid for a bucket of fish at the counter and they walked out to the pier. She experienced the familiar discomfort that walking over water always gave her, but managed to push past it. She still didn’t like the water, avoided getting in the sea to swim, but she’d gotten used to seeing it every day. It was part of Thunder Key. The sea was beautiful, and she didn’t understand her fear of it. She’d learned to live with it.

There were a few tourists, but most of the early crowd was lined up at the dive shop and snorkel shack. The air was salty and fresh and clean. Watching Roman, she had the craziest urge to tangle her fingers through his hair, as if it would be perfectly natural, and ask him to tell her why he thought he needed to change.

“So you had some questions about the bar,” she said instead.

Business, business, business. She needed to talk about something that didn’t make her want to put her arms around him or hold his hands or probe into the sadness behind those amazing dark eyes.

“Not questions, really. I just wanted to let you know that nothing’s going to change. In case you’re concerned about that. I know that’s important to Morrie.” He leaned over the railing, tossed a fish to the tarpons below, then looked back at her. “Morrie emphasized that he wants you to feel secure here at the bar. He really cares about you.”

“Morrie’s great.” She settled her arms against the railing, stared down at the gathering tarpons. The water glittered in the growing day. “He’s been like a father to me. But you’re buying the bar, so I understand it’s up to you what you do with it.”

A thread of nervousness wound through her words, but like her fear of water, she’d learned to live with the new uncertainty since Morrie had put the bar up for sale. With no past, and the future unknowable, living day to day was all she could handle.

The fact was, no matter how much Morrie felt like a father to her, she wasn’t his family. His family was in New Mexico, and that’s where Morrie wanted to be.

“I like the Shark and Fin just the way it is,” Roman said. “And the people, too. I just wanted you to know. I won’t be asking you to move out of the apartment, and I’m not planning to change any of the staffing.”

“You’ll need a place to live,” she pointed out.

“I’m fine at the White Seas for now. I’ll figure out the rest of it as I go.”

Apparently he had unlimited funds if he could stay at the White Seas indefinitely. It was one of the most expensive resorts in the Keys simply because it was so secluded on sleepy little Thunder Key. There was limited potential for any farther development on the island due to the environmental restrictions preserving most of the remaining natural areas on the Key.

Roman dug into the bucket and tossed another handful of fish to the tarpons. The pelicans near the pier had taken note and a couple dove toward them.

Leah took a handful and a white pelican ate straight from her fingers. Roman fed another, and half the bucket was gone in minutes.

She laughed as one pelican nipped her fingers greedily, and she looked up at Roman. He was grinning back at her.

“I like it when you laugh,” he said. “You don’t laugh enough.”

That sobered her instantly. “Why do you want to buy a bar in the Keys?” Dammit, she hadn’t meant to ask him that.

He had a way of just looking at her and sending her completely off balance.

“I honeymooned here with my wife.”

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

“Here? On Thunder Key?”

“At the White Seas. Two years ago.”

The pain in his eyes just about killed her. The urge to touch him grew almost unbearable. There was something about him that just pulled her against her will.

If he’d only been married two years ago, his wife had to have died fairly recently. And now he’d come back. It was hard for her to imagine how it must feel for him to be here. Painful, to say the least.

“I would think this is the last place you’d want to be,” she said. Hide. That’s what pain made her want to do. But Roman wasn’t hiding. He’d come right here, to the very place that must hurt him the most. “I feel like an idiot. I was trying to set you up with Marian and I thought you were interested in me. I had no idea your loss had been so…recent. It must be difficult for you to be back here.”

He leaned against the railing. “This is the only place I want to be,” he said. The wind picked up, almost carrying his words away. She had to move closer to hear him. The salty air mingled with the musky male scent of him.

“I’m truly sorry for your loss,” she said. What would that be like, to care so deeply—and then to lose that person? She wondered if she would ever know. If she had known in the past. It was one of the things that frightened her, to think there might be someone, somewhere, who missed her. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t bring herself to date. What if she had a husband? Children? She didn’t even know if she was free. But she had convinced herself that if she had a family, she would know. Somehow. Wouldn’t she?

Most of the time the questions were just too awful to contemplate.

“I was a bastard,” he said, surprising her again. The sharp darkness of his eyes pierced her as he cut his gaze to her again. “I wasn’t a good husband during our marriage, and then it was too late. I lost her. Don’t feel sorry for me. Everything that happened was my own fault.”

He dug in the bucket again, tossed another handful of fish at the tarpons.

“Wow, not hard on yourself or anything, are you?” she said. “And you said I put myself down. I think you’ve got me beat.”

“I believe in a person taking responsibility for his actions. Especially when the person was wrong.”

“That’s admirable, but still… It takes two people to make a marriage. You can’t blame yourself entirely.”

“She did,” he said.

Leah didn’t know what to say to that. “I think if you can admit you made some mistakes, that says a lot about you. You don’t strike me as a bastard.” Nope, not at all. He was being so damn nice, she felt the shield around her peeling back with every second she spent with him. And that was bad.

Very bad.

She had nothing to offer a man like Roman Bradshaw. No past, no future, barely a present. There were solid reasons she’d made up her mind not to get involved in a relationship, and just because Roman was hellaciously good-looking and nice to boot didn’t change any of it. Discovering he was a sensitive guy didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

She needed to get things back on more solid footing. Something she could handle. “Morrie told me to give you whatever access you need. If you want to look at the books today, I can make them available to you. I’ve been keeping the books and managing the bar myself since Morrie’s been gone, so I can fill you in on most of the business details and any questions you might have.”

“Great.” He threw out some more fish and neither of them said anything for a time.

The pier grew more crowded as day tourists arrived, making their way from other islands to sample the small Key’s quieter attractions.

“Do you still dive?” Roman asked when the bucket finally emptied.

Still? Her expression must have revealed her confusion.

“I thought you said you enjoyed diving,” he explained.

“No, no, I didn’t. I don’t dive. I have a phobia about the water, actually.”

He watched her for a strange beat. She was very aware of how close he stood to her, of the strangers walking past, of the sun hitting his strong arms and the warm scent of him pulling her and pushing her away all at once.

“You live on an island that’s two miles wide and you’re afraid of the water?”

“Yep. Well, I don’t mind looking at it. I just—I don’t go into it.”

“Do you know why you’re afraid?”

She shook her head. He picked up the bucket and they began walking back toward the marina.

“I believe in facing your fears,” he said. “Headon.”

“You don’t want to see me have a panic attack,” she told him. “It’s not a pretty sight.”

He stopped short.

“You have panic attacks?” Concern etched a new line across his forehead.

“I’m making a great impression on my potential new boss, aren’t I? I’m freaked out about dating, I’m afraid of water, I have panic attacks. I swear, I’m perfectly fine at the bar. I don’t crack up in front of customers. Much.” She looked at him. “That was a joke,” she added.

“I don’t think you’re nuts,” he said. He cocked his head, regarded her for a beat. “I think you’re everything Morrie said you were.”

She wondered exactly what Morrie had told him.

They reached the marina and he returned the bucket. There was a sink for hand-washing, and after they finished, he held the door open for her again. Great. He was gorgeous, rich, nice and polite. She needed to find some faults, quickly. She reminded herself that she barely knew him and had no reason to trust him. She brushed by him, back into the harsh glare of the day.

“I need to get back to the bar,” she said.

“I thought you didn’t have to be back till later.”

No, damn him. “I could show you the books.” Anything to cut short their outing. “You don’t want to spend too much time in the sun right away,” she added, trying to think of more reasons they should go back to the bar. “I’m used to it, but you’re not. The sun here is seductive. It’s stronger than you think. You can tell the tourists because they’re the ones who are sunburned. And by the way, don’t swim after dark. That’s when the sharks are most active. The mosquitoes here are ferocious, too. And you need some sunglasses—the kind that protect against ultraviolet rays—”

She stopped. He was watching her with his curiously level gaze shuttered and hard to read now. But he could read her, apparently. And she hated that. It made her heart thump and pound, and she wanted to run, hard, fast, until she couldn’t think or feel.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said. “Or take up too much of your time. Let’s go back.”

All he did was make her feel uncomfortable. But now she felt like a jerk.

“No, I’ll walk you into the town. Morrie asked me to do anything for you that I could, and I owe him…everything. If you’d like me to show you around some more—”

“And take me shopping for sunglasses?” The teasing note returned to his voice.

She felt her cheeks heat. “I really wasn’t trying to ditch you,” she lied.

He didn’t believe her, she suspected, but he didn’t confront her about it, either.

“Good thing,” he said. “Because I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.”

That was exactly what she was afraid of.