In a place just inches from his face.
He shot to his feet just as she jolted back.
“I’m not the man for you,” he muttered, sort of inexplicably, she thought. And then, to make it murkier, he grabbed her hand and towed her toward that sunshine he’d promised.
Chapter 3
Kane dropped Audra’s hand the instant he pulled her over the threshold. Even that brief touch had been dicey, because all he really wanted was to take her into his arms and test the limits of that look in her eyes.
She was into him, sexually.
And he was into sex, God knows, but he’d also been honest when he’d told her he was not the man for her. A better guy would have made up some excuse and avoided this little outing altogether, but Kane couldn’t seem to walk away and leave her in those quiet rooms, knowing she’d likely fill them up with mischief and murder, enough to keep the woman up all night.
Bothered by how much the thought of that bothered him, he tried to escape it, his strides eating up the path through the grounds until he realized he’d left Audra behind. He stopped, then turned, allowing her to catch up.
She was so fucking beautiful. On the first day, her extreme case of bedhead, the oversized sweats, and the eye mask had mostly managed to camouflage it, though Kane had been…touched by her all the same. But this morning, when she’d opened the door, something had moved through his chest. She was all delicate colors—the pale hair, the crystal clarity of her blue eyes, the blushing skin that gave away so much of what ran through her mind. In jeans and a blouse, he could see the refined lines of her body.
Kane tried to tell himself he liked bodacious babes best, the ones with bouncing boobs and hips to grab onto, but the truth was, her elegant figure turned him on too.
Most of all, he liked the things that came out of her mouth. What do you do for insomnia? It wasn’t so much that there was anything wrong or amusing about the question, it was her immediate embarrassment that the remark could be read as a double-entendre…or worse, a clumsy come-on. It had been sweet as all hell and sent his mind going in a dozen dirty directions of how he could tire her out between the sheets, or over the desk, or in the rose-marbled shower just a few feet away.
And he thought she’d had a few ideas of her own, because color had climbed up her throat to her cheeks.
Who knew a mere blush could wind his crank so damn tight?
But Audra wasn’t looking at him now. Her head swiveled from side to side as she took in the towering palms, the lush hibiscus and gardenia and star jasmine bushes, the birdbaths tucked into unexpected spaces. “Wow,” she said as she reached him. “I didn’t realize how magnificent this all is.” Her head bent to breathe in the scent of a tiny white flower and her hair swung forward to hide her face.
Kane just managed not to reach for those locks to tuck them behind her ear. His gaze slid along her form to her ass, and he felt his cock give a kick. Despite her slenderness, she had a pert, curved booty that he could just imagine palming as he entered her from behind.
She straightened, and he hoped he’d wiped the lust from his face. “I thought we’d head toward the beach,” he said, pointing the way.
“Okay.” She seemed to get caught up in her surroundings again as they strolled on. “Really magnificent,” she murmured.
Kane took a good look himself, realizing too often he didn’t actually “see” his surroundings. “They call this entire stretch of coast the American Riviera,” he said. “And this particular property was developed by a Hathaway ancestor in the 1920s.”
“Who had incredible vision, obviously,” Audra murmured, and Kane felt a spurt of pride on his forefather’s behalf. “I can see why it’s so popular. And why people buy into the idea that a stay here can cure heartbreak.”
Kane groaned. “Damn, I hate that.”
Audra’s wide eyes shifted to him. “What?”
Shaking his head, he sped up the pace so that Audra had to nearly skip to keep up with him. He forced himself to slow again, even as he wanted to put space between himself and the notion of The Hathaway being touted as the Heartbreak Hotel. “It’s a ridiculous assertion and sets up impossible expectations.”
“You seem to take it so personally,” she observed, her voice mild.
Shit. She had no idea why he did take it personally, because he wasn’t actually Jones the maintenance guy, but Kane Hathaway, general manager of the resort and one of the heirs to the family hospitality business. There was no real reason to keep his identity a secret, he supposed, but that first day he didn’t want her to think staff was checking up on her and then it seemed easier to…to…
Maybe it was nice for a short while not to be the man responsible for all the fucking numbers, naked visitors, and other everyday crises.
“Sorry if I poked a sore spot,” Audra said, making him realize she’d left the conversational ball in his court.
He gave a mental grimace. “It’s not that,” he muttered.
“Then what is it?”
“You work at a place like this…there’s a lot of happy families. Happy people. They come here for the good times.”
She cocked her head. “And?”
“We, the staff, our priority is to make memories for our guests.”
“And?” Audra asked again.
“But we can’t make magic happen.” To a person who had a healthy superstitious streak like Kane, claiming the hotel could do that was all kinds of wrong. “We’re not in the business of healing heartbreak and we shouldn’t trade on the whole fantasy of it.”
His temper rose again and he strode forward, Audra nearly running at his side until they broke out of the greenery and onto Dragonfly Beach. The sand spread around them and the ocean spread before them, gold and silver in the late afternoon light. Fuck, like this, the place looked magical.
“Even though we’re not the ones responsible for that ridiculous rumor—nor do we use it in any of our promotional literature—it still pisses me off to know that it’s out there,” he added.
“You’re annoyed that people have found themselves feeling better after their stay?”
“People come for that too—to feel better—all the time. People who need a break after a busy time or who want a quiet place for reflection. What irritates me is identifying The Hathaway as a place that promotes romantic love.”
“Honeymooners—”
“I’m not explaining myself well.” He didn’t know why he wanted to, either, but he closed his eyes and let the warm sun and cool wind clarify his thoughts. “I’m only saying romantic love is not the end-all, be-all of living and we shouldn’t be endorsing that idea.”
Kane didn’t need to look at Audra to know she was riveted to his words. “I personally agree.”
She probably thought she did, for now.
“Lots of people can be perfectly happy without a grand love in their life,” she continued.
Big words for a woman who’d been wearing a wedding gown under her clothes until yesterday. She might be gun-shy right now, but his point went beyond that.
Opening his eyes, he turned to her. “I mean something different, though. Some people maybe don’t manage to find that grand love. But there are other people, Audra, who are just not designed for that kind of one-on-one relationship. Because they’re too logical, maybe. Or too selfish, definitely.”
Her mouth rounded into a perfect O. “You mean you? You don’t think you can fall in love?”
I curse you to be alone the rest of your life. But really, it’s just icing, because your egocentricity means that will be the case anyway.
Even in the warmth of the sunshine, a cold shiver ran down his spine at the memory, like when he watched a guest open an umbrella indoors. “Let’s just say I have misgivings about my ability to do so,” he said.
“Misgivings,” she repeated. A new wash of color flagged her cheeks, but this time he couldn’t guess what she was thinking.
“Someone mentioned that word to me recently.�
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“Who—”
A shout calling his name from down the beach redirected his attention. At one of the volleyball courts set up on the sand, a man was waving to catch Kane’s attention. Judging the conversation with Audra had gone as far as he’d like, he jogged south to meet the guy, aware of the woman on his heels.
“Stand in to finish this game?” the guy asked, an old buddy he’d known forever. “I gotta book.”
“Sure,” he said, noting the other players, two women, one man. All familiar, all looking at him with expectant faces. They wanted a completion to their match.
Stripping off his shirt, he tossed it to Audra. “Hold this, would you?” She caught it reflexively. “I’ll be just a minute.”
Then he kicked off his shoes and stepped over the yellow rope line that marked the court. It took short minutes for his side to gain the necessary last points for the win and following the final spike, he landed on his feet in the sand, a bit winded.
He had to do this more often. You’ve been such a dull boy, his sister had said.
Movement from the corner of his eye made him remember Audra. He glanced over at her, to see her holding his shirt like it was a lifeline, her gaze trained on his bare chest. She might be able to claim that it was the sun and breeze that had reddened her face, but sexual awareness burned bright in her eyes.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, because he wanted nothing more than to grab her free hand, see her eyes widen even more, then throw her down onto the sand where he could actually fuck her. With long strides he took himself her way, knowing he had to put a stop to this.
Her gaze lifted to his face when they stood toe-to-toe. “You’re all…sweaty,” she said, then adorably began dabbing at his bare pecs with his bunched-up shirt.
You’re all impossibly tempting, he thought, forcing a scowl onto his face before grabbing his garment and pulling it over his head. “Let’s go,” he said, waving a goodbye to the remaining competitors as he trudged in the direction of the resort.
This was it, he told himself. He was taking her directly back to her bungalow and leaving her the hell alone after that, as much as “alone” and “Audra” together bothered him. But he was not the man for her. Definitely not.
As he reached the path leading into the resort grounds, he glanced around to find that he’d left her behind him again. But this time, she didn’t hurry to catch up. Instead, her feet braced in the sand, she was staring at the surf line, dotted here and there by wetsuited surfers, the water still too cold to “trunk it” as they referred to forgoing neoprene for only a pair of thin board shorts.
Curious as to what had fixed her attention, he walked back to her, touched her shoulder. “Hey.”
She started.
He almost jumped out of his own skin, because gone was any color from her face and she wore that haunted look of the first day. With her pale hair and pale skin, her eyes stood out, though they seemed leached of nearly all their blue.
Worried, he glanced toward the water. “Did you see something? A shark?” he half-joked.
“Him,” she said simply.
“Him, who?”
Now her legs started churning in the sand and it was she who was leaving Kane behind as she rushed in the direction of the resort.
He caught at her elbow, and her feet stuttered in the thick sand. “Who did you see?”
“No one. No one I know. I just thought for a moment…” Shaking her head, she tried pulling free of his hand.
“The guy you were engaged to,” he guessed, figuring only one person could put that desolate expression on her face. “The one who left you on your wedding day.”
Her gaze whipped up to his. “You know about that?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Hotels, hospitals, at those kind of places word gets around.”
Something sparked in her eyes and her back shot straight. Good, he thought, pleased at the signs of outrage. It brought a little color to her face.
“People have been talking about me?” she demanded in a tight voice.
“You checked in wearing a wedding dress, baby.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Right.”
“What made you think you saw him out there? Have you been in contact?” For some reason he felt as if he was holding his breath.
“No. But I heard from someone else that he’s been up and down the coast surfing all the famous spots.” She started walking again, her pose and her slow gait reminding him too much of the lost-looking woman who’d been curled up on her sofa in the dark.
“Do you hope he changes his mind?” Kane asked, with that breath-backed-up-in-his lungs feeling again.
“No. I—” She shook her head again. “I did everything so right. Followed all the rules. Never did one single thing to regret, and then I get as my reward…” She swallowed hard.
Tears, he thought, and he wanted to find her fucking ex and tear him apart, one limb at a time.
Without another word, he trailed her all the way back to her room, a sick feeling in his belly, like that time when he was thirteen and he’d broken a mirror only to realize he had seven years of bad luck ahead. At her door, she slid a key card from her back pocket and released the lock.
“Well,” she said, her gaze skittering over him. “Here’s to hoping I sleep better tonight.”
As she slipped inside, Kane sighed, knowing he wouldn’t. And he wondered just how long he could hold off before he was knocking on her door again.
Near her bungalow, Audra sat on a bench tucked into the greenery on the resort grounds. Fronds of a fan palm shaded her from the Sunday afternoon sunshine and birds flitted in the bushes around her. The warm temperature made her sleepy and her bed beckoned—yes, the idea of a nap sounded great, but she resisted. The night before she’d had eight hours of uninterrupted rest, proving Kane to be right about fresh air helping.
As if thinking of him conjured up the man, she caught sight of the maintenance worker striding up the path in her direction. He wasn’t dressed for maintenance, though. No jumpsuit—uh, coveralls—today, but instead he wore a T-shirt advertising a road race and a similar pair of jeans to those from the day before. They fit like denim should fit on a man, snug at mid-hip but loose enough in the thigh to step into an impromptu volleyball game.
She hadn’t been able to pull her gaze off him on that sand court, his body moving with athletic grace, the bare golden skin of his chest gleaming in the sunshine. Her hands had been trembling when he approached her afterward and, bowing to a craving she’d never experienced before, she’d reached toward his hard pectoral muscles, using his shirt as a buffer to keep the action somewhat polite.
By the way he’d snatched the material from her and moved off, she thought he might have seen through her ploy. The embarrassment of that followed by the realization that he, indeed, knew she’d been left at the altar—more embarrassment!—had made her eager to get away from him.
But not before babbling on about her rule-following, regret-less life.
The man made her feel uncharacteristic things and made her share in a too-familiar way. So she’d decided it was important to avoid him for the rest of her stay.
Even now, with him so near, she thought she could follow through on that. A frown on his face, his head was down and his focus was on the phone in his hand. If Audra stayed very quiet and didn’t move, surely he would pass her without becoming aware of her presence.
That hope went out the window when his head jerked up, turned, and he looked directly into her eyes. God, the green of his was leaf-bright and the look in them so keen that her heart thumped hard against her ribs. His feet halted.
She tried pretending a casualness she never felt around him. “Oh, hey.” Her hand lifted to sketch a wave. When he didn’t utter his own greeting or move another step, she pinned on a smile. “You look busy. Don’t let me keep you.”
“And you look…” Kane shook his head slowly, still staring at her. “I like the dress.”
She gla
nced down at the pale blue linen. Sleeveless and mid-calf length, it wasn’t form-fitting, but the color was good with her eyes and she wore matching striped espadrilles. Yes, she’d bought the outfit for her honeymoon, along with the decadent underwear she had on beneath it, but she’d decided no real woman would burn a perfectly lovely new wardrobe because the man intended to admire it had dumped her.
Plus, she’d thought the fire alarm would go off if she tried burning the clothes in the bathtub.
And—she suppressed the tiniest urge to squirm—she was pretty sure that was a flattering approval she saw on Kane’s face.
But she couldn’t get all moony over him, not again, she reminded herself. Sure, she was coming off a bad break-up, and sure he was hawt hot like she and her friend Lilly used to say, but…coming off a bad break up. That was reason right there to follow through with her intention to steer clear of the man.
Goodness, though, no one had ever made her belly melt with a single look.
Ignoring that, she sketched a second wave. “Have a great rest of your day.”
“My day has gone to shit,” Kane said, running his free hand through his hair. “That’s why I came this direction. I was on my way to you.”
“Oh.” She watched him, wary, as he dropped onto the bench beside her. Bad day or no, he smelled like heaven, she thought. A citrusy, spicy scent that must be his body wash or his shampoo, something he rubbed on himself in the shower.
She couldn’t help it, it was impossible. Her mind took off on a little daydream of warm water and soap bubbles running down the perfect sculpted muscles of a man’s chest. Fine. Kane’s chest. Its image was indelibly stamped on her brain.
“…so I thought of you.”
Blinking, she came back to the present. “You thought of me?”
His brows came together. “You weren’t listening?”
Obviously, no. “Tell me again.”
“We—the resort—is in the midst of a floral and flu crisis.”
“Oh.”
He ran his fingers through his hair again. “I was supposed to have the afternoon off, but it’s all hands on deck.”
Me and Mr. Jones Page 4
