Читать книгу Suiteheart Of A Deal: Suiteheart Of A Deal / My Place Or Yours? - Wendy Etherington - Страница 11

THE STEAK PIT was exactly as Rainey remembered it. Rustic and cozy, with dark, rough-hewn wood paneling, an assortment of copper bric-a-brac and antique-stained glass lamps that cast a soft glow over each of the small, intimate booths.

She had arrived early and been pleasantly surprised to learn that Beck had called ahead and reserved the best booth in the restaurant, near a bank of windows overlooking the dense forest and the rippling, pale-green waters of the glacier-fed Elbow River. Seated alone at their table, she gazed out the window into the woods. Shafts of twilight fell between the trees, giving the entire scene a golden glow. It took her breath away.

She was calmer now, better able to think. In the past two hours she had more or less become resigned to her fate. After all, what options did she have? One: Buy Beck out. Hah! With what? Two: Kill Beck. Sure! Go to jail. Three: Convince him to act as a silent partner and leave the running of the inn to her. Right! She couldn’t imagine the guy being silent for ten seconds.

Nope, for all intents and purposes it looked like she and Romeo would just have to get along—according to a few ground rules, of course.

Her thoughts drifted to Trevor. After the meeting with Nate Frome, she had gone back to the Haven to find two telephone messages: one from him, the other from Dana. She had called Dana back right away but got only her machine. There were no hard feelings between them. After all, it wasn’t Dana’s fault if Trevor was a jerk. His message she tossed straight into the garbage. What could he possibly have to say that she would want to hear?

Then she had wandered around the inn, poking her head into the big kitchen with its long wooden chopping table and antiquated ovens, the cluttered housekeeping quarters and each of the unoccupied suites. There were a lot of those—far too many for this time of year. It seemed to Rainey that when she was a child the inn was full all the time. She had clear memories of Lilly turning disappointed travelers away at the front desk.

Oh, well, at least the place was spotless. Rainey smiled, recalling her impromptu encounter with Freda Norman, the head housekeeper.

“I see you’re here!” someone had barked over Rainey’s shoulder as she peered into one of the empty suites. Startled, she turned around and came face-to-face with a barrel-shaped woman of perhaps sixty, with thick gray hair held back, oddly enough, with a series of purple plastic butterfly clips. Childishly cute, they seemed out of place atop the menacing scowl on her masculine face. The woman thrust out a huge hand and introduced herself as Mrs. Norman. Rainey got the message: there’ll be no first names here.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Norman.”

The women shook hands. Freda Norman had a handshake that would intimidate a grizzly bear.

“What do you think of my inn?” she shouted, even though Rainey was just inches away.

Rainey blinked. Her inn? “Well, frankly, Mrs. Norman, it looks a little tired.”

“Humph, don’t we all!” Looking Rainey up and down with mild contempt, she added, “Came out here from Tronna, huh?”

Suppressing a smile, Rainey replied, “Yes, just this morning.” Why did she think Mrs. Norman would be thrilled if she hopped on a plane and headed straight back to “Tronna?”

“Hope you had a nice trip!” Mrs. Norman growled as if Rainey were just another guest at the Haven. With that, she abruptly excused herself to carry out a final inspection of the rooms. Rainey stood there for a moment, shaking her head. There had been no welcoming remarks, no best wishes for a good working relationship, none of the professional etiquette she was accustomed to.

As for the wear and tear she had spotted this morning, that had turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg. On the outside the Haven still presented itself as a stunning example of Laurentian architecture. Its cedar roof shingles, dark wood siding and stone pillars were in relatively good shape. But inside the place was a wreck. The white plaster walls were crumbling and the oak floors creaked terribly. All the windows needed replacing and the furnishings were tired and dated. How could Lilly have let the place get so rundown?

“Good evening.”

Startled, Rainey jumped a little as Beck slid into the booth. He was clean shaven, his unruly hair neatly combed back. He smelled like sandalwood. A soft black sweater accentuated his tan and turned his amber eyes a deeper shade of gold. Up close, Rainey noticed little flecks of dark brown in those eyes.

“E-e-evening,” she stammered, annoyed with herself for suddenly being nervous. Two seconds alone with this guy and her mouth was dry, her knees trembling slightly under the table. What was it about Beck? What special power did he have with women? He was gorgeous, no question about it, but lots of men were attractive without being so darned compelling. No, Beck had something else, something special.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he murmured. Eyes glowing, he frankly appraised every inch of her that was visible above the table. Rainey felt her skin grow warm. After changing her clothes exactly seven times, she had settled on a short-sleeved, loose-fitting paisley dress that was neutral enough for a business meeting but dressy enough for dinner. Beck’s penetrating gaze made it feel like the most daring lingerie imaginable.

That was it. That was his unique gift, she realized—Beck had the rare and oh-so-useful ability to make a woman feel beautiful and sexy and cherished and safe just by paying her special attention. No wonder he was irresistible.

Well, that was fine for Beck, but she just had to resist him. They were business partners, and if there was one thing Rainey had learned at the Royal York, it was not to get involved with a colleague. Trevor had taught her that one.

She decided to hit him with ground rule number one. “You know, Beck, if we’re going to work together, I think you should stop flirting with me.”

His eyes widened. “Who’s flirting? I mean it.”

“You’re flirting. You’re always flirting.”

He shook his head. “You’re right, you’re right. I’ll try to stop. But I have to warn you—a tiger can’t easily change its stripes.” He grinned.

A pouty waitress sidled up to their table and fixed her adoring baby blues on Beck. Before Rainey could open her mouth, he took the liberty of ordering for both of them. Rainey should have been offended, but somehow she wasn’t. It was good that he had a take-charge attitude and a commanding presence. He was going to need them.

“Very good, Beck,” the waitress intoned with more meaning, strictly speaking, than a steak deserved. Then she sashayed off to the kitchen without so much as a backward glance at Rainey.

Beck turned his full attention to Rainey again. “I think if we’re going to work together we should get to know one another. I already know a little about you.”

“Oh, really? What do you know?”

“I know you were born and raised in Toronto. I know you vacationed here every summer until about five years ago. You’re an only child. You don’t smoke or use any drugs. You seldom drink and always socially. Your favorite color is yellow. You’re a hard worker. And you’re smart, but you lack self-confidence.” He picked up a bread stick and chomped on it.

Rainey couldn’t believe her ears. “How do you know all that?”

“Loose-lipped Lilly. She talked about you all the time.”

“Okay, what about you? I don’t know a thing about you except that you’re a hopeless flirt.”

“Okay, okay, I’m a fourth-generation native of Edmonton, but I prefer to live in Bragg Creek. I have twin brothers, both married, and three nephews. I love to ski. I love to fish. I love to fly. I went to college but didn’t quite graduate.” He grinned. “So many parties, so little time.”

Right, Rainey thought. So many women, so little time.

“I don’t smoke or use any drugs,” he continued, “but I like a brandy on a cold winter night.” He fell silent and gave her a dreamy, almost melancholy look. “Did I tell you, Rainey Miller, that you’re a knockout?”

She shot him a warning look. “You’re doing it again, Beck.”

“Darn! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe we should talk business.”

“Okay. What do you know about running an inn?” Rainey meant to sound merely inquisitive, but somehow the words came out sounding like a challenge.

“Less than nothing,” Beck admitted with a shake of his head. “But I’m willing to learn. What do you know about fixing one? I expect you’ve had a look around the Haven.”

Rainey nodded. “What on earth happened? That inn was Lilly’s pride and joy.”

With a shrug, Beck replied, “Well, partly, she just got old, I guess. Lost her enthusiasm for it. And partly, I think she just wanted to have a little fun before her time was up.” Rainey gave him a questioning look, and he explained, “I may be wrong, but I think she borrowed some money against the inn last year, to buy a few personal pleasures.”

She asked what kind of pleasures, and Beck told her about some of the crazy stuff Lilly and her cronies had done.

“Her cronies?”

“Yeah. There’s a service club in town called the Women of the Wapiti,” he explained. “They raise money for charity, visit the sick…”

“Women of the what?” Rainey’s laugh startled the nearby diners.

“The Wapiti. It’s a big deer. They’re all over the roads here. Anyway, Lilly was a member. My grandmother is a member. So is Freda Norman.” His eyebrows shot up. “Have you met Freda?”

Rainey rolled her eyes. “I had the pleasure this afternoon.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well, don’t be too quick to judge her. She’s actually the sanest employee there.” Ignoring Rainey’s frown, he continued, “Anyway, the three of them blew a bundle last year and the year before on trips. Caribbean cruises, little jaunts to Cancun, that sort of thing. There was other stuff, too, but you’ll know about it soon enough. I suspect Lilly paid for all those trips.”

Before Rainey could digest that information, their food arrived. “Hope your steak is okay, Beck,” the waitress purred. Once again, she ignored Rainey. With nothing more than a curt nod, Beck said he was sure it would be fine. Ooh, but he was smooth. They obviously knew one another. Rainey could just smell a history coming off them. But Beck was with another woman tonight. Like all poker players, he knew which card to play.

Between bites of the delicious, perfectly cooked food, they talked about the repairs that needed to be done, and about the vacancy problem. Rainey commented that an inn like the Haven should be fully booked all year round. Some fresh marketing strategies would have to be developed.

“You know, you’re right about that,” Beck said. “I don’t know much about marketing, but just for starters, don’t you think the name Honeymoon Haven is a little dated? I mean, it’s kind of corny, isn’t it?”

Pleasantly surprised, Rainey nodded. That very thought had occurred to her just this morning. Obviously there was more to Beck than just dazzling good looks and a beautiful body and a simmering sexiness that could reduce a woman to mush in two seconds flat. Maybe, just maybe, this partnership thing was going to work out after all.

Then again, maybe not. Time would tell.

When the meal was over, Beck ordered two brandys for them, then sat back and searched Rainey’s eyes. She returned his soul-searching gaze and the air grew thick around them. Finally he ventured, “So, ah, I guess this business partnership thing sort of rules out other kinds of partnership, huh?” He gave her a look of such hangdog disappointment that Rainey nearly laughed. Instead, she replied, “I don’t get involved with colleagues, Beck.” Or with hustlers like you.

“Hmmm.” He tilted his brandy snifter from right to left so that the gold liquid, so much like his eyes, sloshed gently from side to side. “Maybe you should buy me out,” he murmured in the soft, seductive tone he had obviously mastered. “Then I can devote myself to trying to get you into bed. Seems like way more fun than running an inn.”

Rainey was instantly grateful for the dim lighting; it concealed the hot blush that spread up through her skin like wildfire. It wasn’t hard to imagine making love with Beck. On the contrary…But it was out of the question. Working with Trevor after their breakup had been a miserable experience, but at least she had been able to get away from him by climbing on a plane and coming west. How would she get away from this guy?

Because as surely as he was drop-dead gorgeous, Beck Mahoney would break her heart. He had said it himself: A tiger can’t change its stripes.

“Don’t you ever quit, Beck?” she asked with a weary sigh.

“I guess not. Maybe I am hopeless.”

It was time for ground rule number two. “Beck, I think we need to do more than stop flirting. For the sake of the partnership, I think we should agree to keep our business and personal lives separate.”

For a second, he looked devastated. As usual, he recovered at the speed of sound. “Well, that’ll be tough in Bragg Creek, Rainey. It’s a small town. Everybody’s in bed with everybody else, so to speak.”

Rainey laughed. After Toronto, small-town life was definitely going to take some getting used to.

On the way to her car, she informed him of the meeting tomorrow morning with Hollis Harriman, and warned him not to be late. If there was one thing she couldn’t tolerate, it was tardiness. He accepted the warning with a lazy shrug. She sensed he had something else on his mind.

Sure enough, as she searched for her keys, he ventured, “So, I guess we can rule out that massage too, huh?” He chuckled.

“It was never going to happen, Beck.”

“Okay, then, how about a simple handshake to seal our partnership?”

“Of course.” Rainey grasped the keys in her left hand and stuck her right hand out. Beck ignored it. Instead, he gently cupped the back of her head with one hand, leaned down and lightly touched his soft lips to hers.

“Beck Mahoney!” she cried when he pulled away, grinning like a frat boy who had just got to first base. “Didn’t you hear a word I said in there?”

“Hey, lady, that’s how we shake hands in Bragg Creek. You should see what happens when we hug!”

On the drive home, all Rainey could think about was how right she had been about him. He was delicious.

“TWO HUNDRED thousand dollars!” Rainey and Beck shrieked in unison.

Eyes flaring, Rainey motioned for Beck to close the door leading to the lobby, and he quickly complied. The reservations clerks working just outside the Haven’s administrative office didn’t need to hear this; they were jumpy enough. The place was abuzz with gossip about the new owners, and the air was thick with tension.

“Ah, that’s right,” Hollis Harriman confirmed with a violent twitch of his right eye. “That’s what she borrowed.”

Rainey stared across the meeting table at him, dumb-founded. In his midsixties, Hollis was a tall, perilously thin man with a few wisps of gray hair lacquered and stretched across a shiny skull. He had a funny little heart-shaped mouth and blue eyes so light they looked like the surface of a swimming pool. In addition to the twitch, he had a tremor in his left hand and whenever he stood his right knee buckled.

For the better part of two hours he had painstakingly gone over the Haven’s books with them. Now they were poring over a list of things Lilly had cheekily labeled Extraordinary Expenses. Hah! They were extraordinary, all right. Hot air balloon rides. Helicopter tours over the mountains. The trips Beck had mentioned last night.

A mind-boggling item at the bottom of the first page caught Rainey’s eye. “An aromatherapist?” she cried. “On retainer?” No sooner had that bowled her over than she spotted another doozy. “Please,” she said to Beck, “tell me she didn’t hire a psychic to conduct a seance.”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that,” he replied. “I think they were trying to call up the spirit of her dead father.”

Rainey groaned. “I can’t believe she wrote these things off as business expenses!”

“Oh, she definitely had a talent for numbers,” Hollis declared with a twitch and a tremor. He chuckled nervously. To Rainey he seemed perpetually anxious, as if disaster were lurking around every corner. Of course, it might just be these darned books.

She looked at Beck. Ever since that silly kiss, she had found it unnerving to make full eye contact with him. Whenever their eyes did meet, he did something goofy—like wink at her, or raise his eyebrows several times very quickly. Oh, what a mistake that darned kiss was!

Still, she was grateful for him this morning. How on earth would she deal with all this stuff by herself?

Reading her thoughts, Beck stepped in and asked for the bottom line. Hollis explained that while the inn wasn’t exactly bankrupt, it was barely breaking even. Occupancy was down to fifty percent, even in peak season, and the loan payments were eating up what little profits could be made. Not only that, major repairs needed to be carried out. He handed Beck a list of critical items. To Rainey he said, “Frankly, the staff are starting to be concerned about their jobs. They hear things.”

“No one’s going to lose their job,” she declared with fierce determination. “But where on earth will we get the money to do the repairs? We can’t borrow any more, and there’s no cash on reserve.” She bit her lower lip and began to pace back and forth.

A grin slowly spread across Beck’s face, and a frustrated Rainey wondered if he’d lost his mind. There was nothing funny about any of this. First of all, he had been fifteen minutes late for the meeting—fifteen minutes. Secondly, he had so far showed precious little interest in their situation. He was going to have to buck up, start taking things just a little more seriously.

“I know where we can get it,” he murmured like a boy who knew where secret treasure was buried. He smiled politely at Hollis. “Would you kindly excuse us for just a moment?”

After Hollis shuffled out of the room, knee buckling slightly, a still-grinning Beck turned to Rainey. “I have an idea, but you won’t like it.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, but you have to promise me that you’ll stay calm.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Beck. What is it?”

He leaned forward and whispered, “I think we should get married.”