by Leanne Banks
He wouldn’t have labeled Kinley a classic beauty, but he liked the look of her oval face framed by an angular, gold-streaked brown bob, gray-blue eyes that met his with a directness he found refreshing and a mouth with a full lower lip that could only be described as kissable. She was on the tallish side, maybe five-eight, with long legs and a slender figure more aptly defined as athletic than voluptuous. Just his type—though the way her eyes had darkened when he introduced himself was hardly an auspicious beginning.
A fiftysomething woman in a peasant top, faded jeans and sandals, her wildly curling hair more gray than dark, looked from Kinley to Dan and then gasped in sudden comprehension. “You’re not the travel writer, are you? The one who’s supposed to come tomorrow?”
He nodded. “My itinerary changed unexpectedly. If there’s no room available for me here tonight, I’ll stay somewhere nearby and come back tomorrow.”
Her smile firmly in place again, Kinley spoke up. “Of course we have a room for you, Mr. Phelan. We’re delighted to have you.”
He had to admire the warmth she managed to inject into the welcome despite the dismay he’d seen pass fleetingly through her eyes. Though it had caught her off guard when he’d shown up a day early, his first impression of Kinley was that she was not easily rattled.
“Please, call me Dan.” He glanced again at the damaged truck and portico. “I seem to have arrived at a bad time.”
“It’s my fault,” the older woman said firmly. “I hit the post. The inn is usually immaculate. Beautiful. The Carmichaels run a first-class operation. Don’t you dare write a bad review because of my negligence!”
The way she shook her finger at him reminded him of his favorite childhood nanny, Adele. She’d had a way of making her displeasure known with just a judicious wave of that slightly bent finger. Of all the string of nannies his generally disengaged parents had hired to look after him, Adele was the only one he recalled very clearly. That memory made him smile as he murmured, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Kinley placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and Dan saw her give a little squeeze. “It was an accident, Rhoda. No one is blaming you. We’re all relieved that you weren’t hurt. Dan, this is Rhoda Foley, who works with us here at the inn.”
Despite the awkward circumstances, Kinley made it clear that she was standing by her employee. Dan saw no evidence of irritation with the older woman, merely a matter-of-fact acceptance and what seemed to be genuine concern for her well-being. Nor did he think Kinley’s kindness was put on for his benefit. Rhoda’s fierce loyalty to her employers was apparent. His positive first impression of Kinley bumped up another notch.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Foley.”
She mumbled a reply, though she continued to shoot looks of warning at him.
Kinley cleared her throat. “Rhoda, why don’t you go inside and have a cup of tea to calm your nerves while Logan takes care of your truck?”
Having sent the older woman on her way, she turned back to the men. “Dan, this is my brother, Logan Carmichael.”
Though he saw the family resemblance as they briefly shook hands, Dan noted that Logan’s features were more roughly carved than his sister’s, his jaw squared beneath a three-day growth of dark beard. His brown hair was a shade darker than Kinley’s, and his eyes were hazel, shadowed with what appeared to be a permanent frown. Maybe it was just the damage to the inn that made him look so stern, but Dan suspected Kinley’s brother wasn’t the lighthearted type even under the best of circumstances.
A petite blonde with a sweet face and angelic smile came out the side door of the inn and approached them. “I’ve got Rhoda settled down in the kitchen with some tea. Logan, do you need me to make any calls for you?”
Logan shrugged. “I’ll get the guys to help me start the repairs right away. You can deal with the insurance.”
“Dan, this is our sister, Bonnie,” Kinley said. “Bonnie, meet Dan Phelan, the writer for Modern South magazine. He’s going to be spending an extra day with us. Isn’t that nice?”
Dan couldn’t help but be amused by Kinley’s too-cheery tone. Though she was doing her best to hide it, he would bet she thought it was anything but nice that he’d shown up twenty-four hours early.
If Bonnie was as displeased as her sister, it wasn’t evident in her pleasant expression. She bore only a faint resemblance to her siblings, her eyes a deep blue, her coloring fair, her stature more compact. Striking had been the first adjective to pop into his mind with Kinley. He would have described Bonnie as pretty. Yet his attention continued to be focused primarily on Kinley, even as Bonnie spoke to him. “Rhoda told me you were here. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Phelan. Welcome to our inn.”
“It’s Dan. And thank you. It’s a beautiful place.”
He wasn’t just being polite. Despite the current minor damage, the inn really was lovely. The multibayed Queen Anne–style building was surrounded by an inviting wraparound porch that opened onto the drive-through portico. The siding was a pale gray, the trim pristine white. The front door was painted a bright red and featured leaded-glass inserts and sidelights. A stained glass half-round window above the now-sagging portico drew the eye upward to the peaked, shingled roof against the bright blue sky. Colorful spring flowers bloomed in several tidy beds, and the Blue Ridge Mountains, draped in rapidly dissipating morning fog, formed a spectacular backdrop for it all. Compared to those distant peaks, Bride Mountain was little more than a foothill, but the view was breathtaking.
Bonnie motioned apologetically toward the broken post. “As you can see, we’ve had a little mishap this morning, but fortunately no one was injured and my brother will see that it’s quickly repaired. Please come in through the side door. Breakfast service ended at nine, but I’m sure I can find something for you if you’re hungry.”
“I’ve eaten already, thank you.”
“Coffee, then?”
“Sounds good. I’ll just get my bags.”
“Um—let me get them for you,” Logan offered, not doing a particularly good job of hiding his reluctance.
Because he’d seen Kinley give her brother a sharp nudge, Dan fought a grin as he declined politely. “I’ll let you get to your repairs. I’ll carry my own bags. I pack light.”
Nodding rather curtly, Logan turned back to the damaged portico, already lifting his cell phone to his ear to summon assistance.
“I’ll help you bring in your things,” Kinley offered, subtly directing Dan away from the portico damage and leaving her brother to deal with it. “I’ll show you up to your room and then give you the grand tour when you’re ready.”
“I’d like that,” he said, his gaze focused on her face.
She paused a moment, her head slightly tilted as she met his eyes, and he wondered if she had sensed his immediate attraction to her. But she merely smiled and nodded, speaking in the same briskly professional voice she’d used before. “Let’s get your bags, and I’ll take you in through the side door.”
The disarray outside could not be in starker contrast to the tidy inside of Bride Mountain Inn. The side door opened into the dining area rather than the front foyer. As he followed Kinley through the big room, Dan’s gaze was drawn to the large, sparklingly clean back windows that overlooked the gardens and the distant mountains. The room was airy, immaculate and immediately welcoming. It was easy to imagine himself lingering over coffee at one of the round tables and watching the sky brighten over the flowers, fountain and charming Queen Ann
e gazebo behind the inn.
She led him into the entryway that would have been his first sight of the place had he come in the front door. The matching leaded-glass sidelights on either side of the door flooded the wood-floored foyer with morning sunlight. A small antique reception desk held a big bouquet of fresh flowers, and an old-fashioned mail cubby on the papered wall behind the desk reinforced the old-world-inn feel to the place. Sparkling crystals dangled from the chandelier that lit the two-story space, and a curving, wood-banistered stairway led upstairs.
“Very nice,” he commented.
Kinley’s quick grin looked more natural than the professional smiles she’d forced after he’d identified himself to her. His initial attraction to her doubled in response. He reminded himself that he was here for business reasons, that he tried to remain objective about the subjects of his articles despite his generally laid-back approach to his job. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. The past couple of weeks had been stressful. Maybe he was just tired, and a little too susceptible at the moment to a pretty face and an approving smile. He needed a strong cup of coffee, a brisk walk and maybe a nap, after which he was sure he’d have himself under better control.
After plucking a key from behind the desk, Kinley moved toward the stairs. “This way,” she said and started up, his computer bag slung over her shoulder.
Carrying a small suitcase in his right hand and a garment bag in the other, he followed. Despite his best efforts, his gaze lingered on the slight sway of her slender hips as she preceded him. He’d always had a thing for slim hips and long legs...
Shaking his head in self-reproach, he made himself raise his eyes. Maybe he’d have two cups of strong coffee, followed by a very long walk to clear his mind. He could just hear his managing editor—who also happened to be his cousin—lecturing him that lusting after his hostess was no way to start an assignment.
Kinley unlocked the third door on the right at the top of the stairs and escorted him inside. The suite was as immaculate as he had come to expect of this place. The furniture was dark wood in Colonial style, the linens pale yellow trimmed in rich cream. A writing desk, flat-screen television, comfortable-looking chair and ottoman, and a minifridge were among the amenities. A small but luxurious private bathroom was stocked with high-end toiletries and supplies. More fresh flowers in a crystal vase adorned the nightstand, along with a bowl of fresh fruit. The view was spectacular. The last traces of fog had burned off, though he thought he glimpsed a lingering wisp near the large fountain that highlighted the flower garden.
He set his bags on the floor near the Colonial dresser. “I have to say the inn is really beautiful.”
He was rewarded by another of Kinley’s bright smiles. “Thank you. My sister loves decorating and took charge of most of the restoration before we reopened eighteen months ago. Most of what you see is her work.”
Reaching out to take his computer bag from her, he nodded toward her as he set the bag on the desk. “And what do you love to do?”
She answered without hesitation. “I like the business side of running the inn. The marketing, events planning, bookings, that sort of thing. It’s a challenge, and I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”
“So do I,” he murmured without looking away from her. The enthusiasm in her eyes when she talked of her work made him wonder what other passions excited her. After all, he was a healthy, straight, definitely single male.
As if she’d somehow gotten an inkling of the direction his wayward thoughts had taken, her left eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. She studied him for a moment with a heightened awareness in her expression—not nerves, he decided, but a hint of intrigue. At least, he thought he was reading her correctly.
He cleared his throat. “You said something about coffee?”
It was much too early for anything stronger. He could only hope a strong shot of caffeine would clear his uncharacteristically cloudy head.
Kinley nodded and moved toward the door. “Join me in the dining room whenever you’re ready. We’ll have coffee, then take that tour I promised.”
“I’ll be right down.” Maybe he’d splash a little cold water on his face first.
* * *
“Where is he?” Bonnie asked in an exaggerated whisper as soon as Kinley came downstairs. She had found her sister lurking in the foyer, presumably ready to duck out of sight into the kitchen if Dan had accompanied Kinley down. None of the other guests were around at the moment.
Keeping her own voice low, Kinley replied, “He’ll be down in a few minutes for coffee and a tour. Fresh coffee ready?”
Bonnie nodded. “I warmed some of the leftover breakfast pastries, too, in case he wants a snack.”
Kinley gave her a thumbs-up sign of approval.
“Can you believe he showed up this morning, of all days?” Bonnie shook her head in dismay. “He couldn’t have timed his arrival more inconveniently if he’d tried.”
“No kidding,” Kinley murmured with a grimace. “A broken post and a sagging portico is hardly the first impression I wanted him to get of the inn. Not to mention that I’m going to have to rearrange my whole schedule now to work him into it today.”
“Logan promised it wouldn’t take long to fix the front. He said most of it would be done by the end of today, by noon tomorrow for sure.”
Kinley focused on the smartphone in her hand, on which she was busily making notes and rearranging scheduled time blocks. “I hope he’s right.”
Bonnie looked toward the staircase again. “You couldn’t have been more wrong in predicting what the travel writer would look like, by the way. He’s, like, the opposite of an older man in a bow tie.”
Without looking up from her phone, Kinley gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Bonnie flashed a grin. “I thought you might have. He certainly seemed to notice you.”
Remembering that moment when her eyes had met Dan’s upstairs, Kinley cleared her throat. Okay, so maybe there’d been a moment of awareness. For a couple of heartbeats, she’d been tempted to give him a sultry smile, toss her hair, maybe flutter her lashes a bit—the standard signs that a woman was interested. Or at least, as best she could remember. It had been so long since she’d flirted with anyone that she wasn’t entirely sure she still knew how. She had let the opportunity pass, both because it would have been totally unprofessional of her to flirt with a guest of the inn, and because of her vested interest in the review he would write.
Before she could respond to her sister’s teasing, a noise from the stairway alerted her that the subject of their conversation was on his way down. She gave Bonnie a quick look of warning, then turned with a bright smile to greet Dan as he joined them. She’d hoped a few minutes away from him would have gotten her past that initial jolt of attraction, but seeing him bounding lightly down the stairs made her breath catch again. Something about this good-looking guy just got to her in a way no one else had in—well, longer than she could remember.
He carried a small black bag that probably held a camera, reminding her of why he was here. She mentally crossed her fingers that the noises drifting in from outside meant her brother was already busily restoring the front of the inn. Surely Dan would be content to take shots of the other areas of the inn until the front was picture-perfect again.
Sliding her phone into her pocket, she motioned toward the dining room. “Bonnie just told me she has a fresh pot of coffee and some pastries set out for us.”
H
e nodded. “Sounds great.”
As she accompanied him and her sister into the other room, Kinley smiled somewhat smugly. Bonnie’s pastries were locally renowned, one frequent guest going so far as to term them “heaven on a plate.” Dan already seemed impressed by his suite. After tasting her sister’s coffee and pastries, followed by a carefully guided tour of the place, he would undoubtedly be convinced that the inn deserved a glowing write-up.
From this point on, she was going to make sure his only impressions were positive ones. Just as she would make sure to keep her unexpected attraction to him under firm control. She’d had much more luck with business than with romance in the past, and she would do well to keep that in mind when it came to her dealings with this sexy writer.
Copyright © 2014 by Gina Wilkins
ISBN-13: 9781460324080
HAPPY NEW YEAR, BABY FORTUNE!
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Leanne Banks for her contribution to The Fortunes of Texas: Welcome to Horseback Hollow continuity.
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
