Passionate Kisses

by Various

  He had realized as he watched her at breakfast that there was no point running from her. She’d already managed to work her way into his head. Didn’t he owe it to himself to see if there was room in his heart as well? He just had to find a way to bring back the easy camaraderie they’d been fostering until yesterday’s disastrous lunch.

  Looking up he spotted her coming down the path with lunch. At least she was willing to come this far. It was a start.

  She was silent when she entered, laying out lunch in a precise manner. Once she’d placed the containers of balsamic vinegar and oil on the table, she reached into her pocket and handed him the poster.

  “I kept it simple. I thought next week would work best. Monday evening is always good. There’s no bingo within an hour’s drive, so most people will be home.” She smiled. “Anyway, you can review it, and if there’s anything you’d like changed let me know.”

  “It’s perfect,” he said, only bothering to look at it at all because he knew she’d taken the time to make it herself. He’d become used to dismissing other people’s work, he discovered. Another fault of his brought to light just from his proximity to Elsie.

  “Great. I’ll get them put up around town.” She headed toward the door.

  “Have you had lunch?”

  “Yea,” she said, not stopping.

  “Then I suppose you don’t want to keep me company while I eat?”

  “If you want company I can always send your friend down.”

  “I’d rather eat alone.”

  “That’s not very nice of you,” she said. “The poor man is heartbroken. Imagine being left at the altar.”

  “He doesn’t seem that torn up about it, if you ask me.”

  “Well, you clearly don’t know him very well.”

  “And you do?” He had hoped not to have this conversation with her. It was better he didn’t know.

  “I know all of my guests, especially ones that come here regularly.” She sounded a little defensive.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. Look, I’m not trying to pick an argument with you. I was just hoping you’d stay and talk for a little bit. I feel really terrible about yesterday.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it. It’s all water under the bridge.”

  “If I plead, will you stay for a bit?” He tried to assume his most pathetic face.

  She looked like she was at least considering it.

  “I could grovel as well, if that’s more to your liking.”

  The corners of her mouth were starting to creep up.

  “Pretty, pretty please?” He got down on his knees and grinned. “See? Total begging and pleading here. I’ve clearly got no self-respect whatsoever.”

  “Fine,” she said, taking her hand off the door knob and heading to the table. “So what do you want to talk about?”

  “Nothing that will upset you, I think. I’m just curious about how you managed to turn this place into such a success.” He really wanted to ask how she’d turned this into a haven for rock stars fleeing the paparazzi, but he didn’t dare. “I mean, it’s a beautiful place, but you have to admit you get some pretty well-known guests. What kind of marketing did you do?”

  “It’s funny, really. I had to beg the banks for a loan to fix this place up. You wouldn’t believe the cost. I figured I’d spend the rest of my life trying to pay it off. And then, after I’d been open all of two weeks, a friend of mine who plays in a band took his family here for a long weekend. And he had in tow a friend of his who just happens to be a pretty famous actor. He’s big on privacy so I’d sooner not say who. Anyway, he loved it here. So much so that he’s not even a guest any more. He’s building his own place.”

  “Wow.” Wow? Who said wow anymore?

  “Yea, so during that weekend I’m on facebook—this was pre-twitter—trying to appeal to locals, and booking ad space in the local paper and whatnot, when this guy, the actor, says, ‘You know, you could make a lot of money here.’ Well, that got my attention.”

  Cam watched in amazement at the animation she had when talking about the inn. Her arms were moving, her head was bobbing, and he couldn’t look away. And her voice. He’d heard a lot of dialects since arriving in Newfoundland, but Elsie, for the most part, didn’t have the thick accent of most everyone else in Heart’s Ease that was part Irish, part English, and part American. A few times in the past he’d noticed a bit of a lilt to her voice, but now, in her enthusiasm, she had slipped into a beautiful, melodious accent that fit her perfectly.

  “He tells me that there are a lot of people in the world with money to burn who would love to come here just to relax in private and get away from their busy lives. Just to prove it, he starts calling up some of his friends. He’s all casual, telling them what an awesome weekend he’s having, peaceful, remote, no press, no fans, and by the time Monday comes I’ve got three actors, and two musicians with rooms booked. It’s been all word of mouth for them.” She shifted on the chair and tucked her legs underneath. “Now I still advertise locally, and get people coming for romantic getaways, or people in the oil industry coming here for business, or bringing their families while they go offshore, but I also get calls out of the blue from people who have never seen an ad.”

  Her green eyes were bright with excitement as she spoke, as if she still didn’t believe her luck.

  “Discretion is key here, you know. And I have yet to have any non-famous guests do anything to make anyone uncomfortable. Then again, I’ve learned that just because someone is known the world over, they’re still just ordinary people.”

  “Wish I could say I chose to stay here, but my sister made the arrangements. I’ll have to ask her how she found out about it.” And thank her. And kiss her. And maybe even give her the Dali original she loved that hung over his mantel.

  “Well, I do have a website. Some people just stumble on me by chance.” She smiled. “So, let me ask you a business question. What do you think of the cottage? I’m debating adding more, but I’m not sure if this setting would be as good as the inn itself.”

  “I might be a bit biased, because I know the hard work you put into this cottage, but I think it’s fantastic. The inn is beautiful, but very posh. This place is more down to earth. Although, the bathroom is a little dingy.”

  She blushed. “I know. I wasn’t aware until I took a look. That’s on the list to get fixed.” She poured a cup of coffee and moved to the recliner, curling her legs up under her. “Should I go all out, jacuzzi and all, or keep it simple?”

  For the next hour they talked about the inn, and her plans for expansion. From there they talked about how his drawings were going, and after that it was just general chitchat. At some point he’d propped some pillows in front of the fire and moved to the floor as she became more and more comfortable in the recliner.

  He wished she would join him on the floor, but this was likely for the best. Had she been down there with him, he might not have been able to focus completely on the conversation. And he was loving talking to her. When she let her guard down she was animated, funny, and completely open. She wasn’t trying to impress him, picking her words carefully. Rather, she just talked from the heart. It allowed him the same freedom. He knew this wasn’t the time to try anything romantic with her. That would come later, of that he was sure. This was his time to prove that he wasn’t a cad. That she could talk to him, openly and honestly, and he’d listen. He made sure that when he laughed, it was a laugh-worthy moment. Most surprising of all was that he was completely satisfied with how these hours were spent.

  When she finally realized it was getting dark, she seemed reluctant to get up from the chair.

  “This was nice,” she said.

  “Sure was,” he said, although it was beyond nice. It was heavenly.

  “Are you coming up to the house for supper?”

  “I am if you can’t come down here to join me,” he said.

  “Well, I’ll be eating around seven—if you want to join me. There migh
t be some other people there too, but you’re welcome to come.”

  She was lingering in the doorway. Normally he’d think that it was an invitation to be kissed. But he had started to doubt his instincts when it came to this woman. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to lean down and cup her face in his hands. Not to sample just one quick taste of her full lips. But he managed it. How, he didn’t know. But there was an ache in his groin as he watched her walk up the hill. He stood there watching until she was out of sight. And then stood there a little longer, just to cool off. Not seducing a woman was hard work.

  EIGHT

  He didn’t even try to kiss me, Elsie thought as she dressed for supper. Her head cheered this event. But there was another, deeper part of her that felt rejected. It was her own fault. She couldn’t decide what she wanted when it came to Cam. If he tried anything sexual she lashed out, even without thinking. And yet her mind was full of scenarios of how the afternoon could have played itself out.

  She wondered what was wrong with her. The afternoon was perfect. He’d acted just as he should have. Polite, friendly, attentive, funny. Still, there were times when she just wished he’d pull her down to the floor, tell her to stop talking, and then silence her with his mouth. She wondered what it would feel like to have so much man hover above her. Would she feel engulfed in his massive arms? How much of his weight could he bring on top of her as he pushed her down on a bed?

  This was a dangerous train of thought. Because while she might fantasize about him, she didn’t know if she was ready, or willing, for the real thing. She wasn’t the type of woman to lead a man on. However, she felt like the only description that applied to her when it came to how she was behaving around Cam was cock-tease.

  The problem was that he was just so damn hard to be around without letting the mind wander. Just being near him kindled a heat deep inside of her. Maybe it was time to re-evaluate her thinking. Was her mother right? Was she going to die an old lonely woman with no one around her other than the odd stray cat that made its way into the house? She looked at the grey tabby that was currently sitting on the edge of her sink, drinking from the tap.

  Where was she supposed to meet a man? Lots of women dated the men they worked with, even when it was against company policy. Why did they risk getting fired? Because they had no other choice. Throw them into a small town with no decent options for miles, and it just got worse. She could go on more vacations, and hope to meet someone. If she had met Cam at someone else’s hotel or inn, would she have thought twice about enjoying herself? Of course not! She would have been all over him the second he opened his mouth and that Scottish hotness flowed forth.

  Maybe it was time to throw caution to the wind and just live in the now. Because there was one certain fact not to be ignored. If Campbell Scott packed his bags tomorrow and left, she would always wonder “what if.” He was already haunting her sleep, and her daydreams. Did she want that for the rest of her life? Wasn’t it better to just let it happen? Chances are the reality wouldn’t be nearly as good as the fantasy anyway, and then she’d know. And once she was done with him, then she’d make damn sure that she didn’t find herself in this situation ever again. Even if she had to start trolling online dating sites, she would make it a point to get herself in to the city at least once a month and go on a date. If it led to something more, great. And if it didn’t, well, at least she wouldn’t feel as deprived as she’d felt these last few days.

  The next time a Campbell Scott arrived at the door of her house, she wouldn’t be horny. She wouldn’t feel like a lifetime had passed since she’d last felt appreciated. And she certainly wouldn’t be the emotional wreck she was right now.

  That was it. She’d decided. The next time he hit on her, she would show him she was no timid wallflower. And while he’d refrained today, she was sure he would make a move tonight. But just in case, she’d give him some extra incentive.

  She started pulling clothes out of her closet. There had to be something that was both sexy and suitable to wear to a casual dinner among a group of family and guests.

  Red dress. Slutty. And she’d worn it for Asher. Not good.

  Black dress. Sparkly. Good for New Year’s Eve. Not for dinner.

  Pink dress. Frilly. Too spring-like. It was three degrees outside.

  Brown dress. Perfect. Stained. Not perfect.

  Did she only own four dresses? She needed to go shopping.

  Next she went through skirts and shirts. And then pants. There was nothing she could wear that fit the bill.

  Screw this! I’m just going to wear what I’d normally wear.

  She pulled on a green silk shirt with a cowl neck, brown tweed pants, and dressed it up with diamond studs. There. She might not be sexy, but she thought she looked attractive enough.

  When she reached the dining room, a large table was set. Her Aunt Ida was sitting at the head, chatting with an elderly couple. Cam was leaning against the wall, thumbing through a very worn copy of Little Women. It was one of her favourite books, and she had several editions in her library.

  He looked like he belonged in the pages of GQ. Dusty blue cashmere cable-knit sweater, an ivory shirt beneath, tucked in to dark grey trousers. Oozing sex. That was the best way she could think of to describe him. Calm, strong, and utterly confident that he was without a doubt the centre of attention. At least for her. He met her gaze and locked his eyes on her the entire time she stood there, simply taking him in. He closed the book and strode forward. Three steps. That’s all it took, and he was by her side.

  “May I say you look stunning,” he whispered. “That shade of green should be on every item you own.”

  Okay then. I guess I dressed okay.

  “Thanks. I’m glad you could join us.” She liked to take a night out of the week and invite guests to join her and her family.

  Cam ushered her to the table. She took her seat in the centre and he sat to her right.

  “You weren’t joking when you said there would be others.”

  “Nope. You’ll get to meet my parents this evening. Although I think you may have met my mother.” She hoped she’d learn a bit more about that.

  “Yes, just this morning. You’re a lot like her.” He chuckled.

  “People often say I resemble her.”

  “Oh, you sure do. And not just in the way you look.”

  She eyed him quizzically. “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, I just think you’re similar, that’s all. Same demeanour.”

  She would have probed further but Asher joined them. He sat to her left, and leaned over to kiss her cheek—this time on purpose.

  “Ah, family dinner. How I’ve missed thee,” he exclaimed.

  Was it just her imagination, or was he a little drunk?

  “Did you have any success with your call this afternoon?” she asked.

  “Regrettably, no. She’s refusing my calls. But I have begun a campaign of cajoling. Emails. Texts. Calls. Messages. Calls to her friends. I’ll wear her down.”

  “Maybe you should fly out and see her,” Cam interjected.

  “I thought of that, but well, she has these dogs. Bloody big things and they don’t like me.”

  Elsie laughed, envisioning Asher running from dogs.

  Dinner wasn’t the fiasco she was worried it might turn out to be. Asher was preoccupied with sharing his efforts to win his fiancée back with anyone who would listen. Her mother didn’t meddle. Her father and Cam had a serious conversation about salmon fishing. The only uncomfortable moments came from Aunt Ida, who insisted on calling Cam the “Great Scot” and kept asking him for travel tips. So much for keeping her plan to visit Scotland a secret.

  After dinner, most of the crowd went their separate ways. She had hoped to invite Cam for a walk, but Asher captured him first. The two went off to the games room to play pool.

  She hung around for about ten minutes but it reminded her of her days in high school when Ambrose Power had put a pool table, a couple o
f pin ball machines and a Pac-Man console in his shed and charged all the kids a dollar to hang out there from seven to ten on the weekends. That was about as exciting as the night got in Heart’s Ease, unless you were sneaking out to drink beer, or had a boyfriend.

  In that case you and another two couples piled into a car and drove around, the girls in the backseat sitting on their boyfriends’ laps. The girl in the front got the privilege of choosing the music, and of boasting that her boyfriend had a car. That girl was never Elsie. She’d been a girl in the backseat once. More often, she was the girl standing next to the wall, watching the boys play pool and wishing she had the courage to talk to one of them. They, in turn, thought she was “stuck-up”. That she thought she was too good for them.

  When she moved home and began work on the inn, those same couples were married, and the same boys she had wished would talk to her now worked for her. Unfortunately, they’d hit their prime at sixteen and it had been all downhill since then.

  As she left the games room, Cam and Ash had just laid down money on a game. She thought she’d heard some ridiculous number in the thousands. She roamed around the house a bit, checked in on some guests, chatted with Tom who was sweeping leaves off the front path, and even tried calling the stray cat, who had gone on the prowl outside. That killed forty-five minutes. She popped her head back in the games room. They had opened a bottle of whisky and were still playing. They barely seemed to notice her when she said if they didn’t need anything else, she was going to bed for the night. She even put an emphasis on bed, while looking straight at Cam. Nothing. Not even a glance from Asher. He seemed to be taking the change in their relationship status quite well.

  She returned to her room and tidied up the clothes she had tossed around. What a waste of effort that had been. One thing could be said about Campbell Scott. When a woman made it clear she wasn’t interested, he dropped pursuit like a hound called off the trail. As she rooted through her nightgown drawer she was tempted to put on a racy little number and go back down to see if they noticed her then. But comfy flannel bottoms and a long-sleeved cotton shirt won out. She curled up in bed, grabbed the remote, and tried to lose herself in reality TV.