by J. S. Scott
She’d just have to make sure she held onto the reins. There was more at stake than just the inn or her job.
Checking the time, she went to the front desk and grabbed the keys to the van, hoping that the drive into town would help clear her head. “I’ll go grab the next group of visitors coming in on the ferry.”
Logan gave her a small frown, his blue eyes filled with worry, though handsome as he was, he even made devastation look good. He stepped away from the front counter where’d he’d been dealing with some paperwork, and pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “I just heard. I’m really sorry, Riley. But it could be good, right?”
She managed a smile, knowing it was important to stay positive for the troops. Slipping out of the comfort of his arms, she did her best to push her concerns and apprehensions aside. “Exactly. Everything will work out fine. And just think of all the things we can do if we have a bit of money coming in. Might finally be able to give the rooms that remodel we’ve been dreaming of.”
She’d have to make it work. Failure wasn’t an option—not when there was so much on the line. She’d put far too much of herself into the inn to have it all go to hell. And if Holt Enterprises thought they could just come in and bulldoze everything she’d worked so hard to build and care for, then they had better get ready for a fight.
Stay positive, she reminded herself. It didn’t have to be all doom and gloom. Holt might only make a few changes while providing a good infusion of much-needed cash to remodel the place.
With new plans and ideas running through her head, Riley drove the van down to the center of town, taking in the late summer sun and the bustling shops as she made her way to the port. It really was a special place, the brightly colored shingled cottages playing up against the blue sky and sea, while riots of flowers poured out of window boxes. She pulled up by the landing just as the ferry docked and started to unload its passengers. Perfect timing.
There were two ways to get to Mermaid Isle. There was a ferry that left Portland and was convenient for those guests coming from Boston or other points south, and then there was a bridge that connected the island to the mainland an hour north of Portland. During the summer, most opted for the ferry. Some even brought their cars, though most made do with the hotel’s bikes or rented a scooter from a shop in town. But in the winter time, Riley usually recommended the bridge since the winter seas could be rough and unpredictable, and service was limited.
With the hotel’s name emblazoned on the side of the van, she waited for her group to arrive, clipboard in hand. One newlywed couple, three writers who’d signed up for their Romancing the Isle writer’s workshop, and two other individuals who had booked separately. Watching the crowds come in off the ferry, Riley knew there would be a fair number of people who would day-trip it, and take the evening ferry home, but it was the ones who stayed, even just a night or two, who usually came back time and again.
A group of women, ranging from their forties to sixties, laughed and chatted their way off the boat and wandered over, wide-brimmed straw hats atop each head and sundresses flowing in the summer breeze. Her romance writers—the ones who had been to the inn previously and decided to add a few days to their workshop by coming early. “Welcome to Mermaid Isle. Jan, Pat, Diane—so nice to see you again.”
One after another, the trio gave her a big hug. Pat took the lead. “Not a chance in hell we’d miss this workshop. And I hope you still have that cutie, Logan, working for you. He’s the inspiration for my next hero. Tall, dark hair, those blue eyes—not to mention that build.”
Jan nudged her friend. “You haven’t stopped talking about him since we were last here. Riley, you best warn the poor man. This one here’s up to no good. She’ll be dropping things left and right just to get him to bend over and pick them up.”
Riley had to smile, her worries drifting away on the women’s laughter. She leaned over for a mock whisper. “Well, he does have a nice butt, but don’t tell him I said so or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, honey. If it were me, I’d be trying out a new scene every night of the week with him in the leading role.” Diane threw her head back and laughed, before turning to the other writers. “That man is book cover material.”
Riley would not tell them that she’d dated Logan on and off, knowing the writers would attempt to get them back together, when they were better off just being friends.
Pat put a hand on Diane’s arm. “Don’t go forgetting the rest of them. What were their names?”
Diane shrugged with a laugh. “Couldn’t tell you. My eyes weren’t on their nametags.”
The writers laughed their way onto the bus as a good-looking couple in their early thirties approached and introduced themselves. “Ken and Emma Murray.”
Riley welcomed them to the island and checked them off her list when her attention was pulled in a completely different direction. Given the constant stream of visitors they got on the island, there weren’t many men who could have her doing a double-take, but damn if this one didn’t have her heart forgetting how to beat properly. And he was walking towards her, his long stride eating up the distance between them.
The man was…tall. And…words failed her. Despite the cotton tee and worn jeans, he looked like a Viking god, his honey-colored hair just long enough to make a girl want to run her fingers through it, his strong jaw covered in several days’ growth. There was an ease to his step and demeanor despite his muscular build, like he was comfortable in his body and knew how to use it.
He shifted the large duffel he was carrying and gave her a smile that had her blushing, while his blue eyes held her captive in his gaze. “Hey there, darling.”
Darling, eh? She liked it. And he had an accent—something European. Well-schooled and definitely English but with a little bit of something else thrown in.
“Welcome to Mermaid Isle.” Her heart nearly stuttered along with her mouth. She glanced at her clipboard. The name wasn’t familiar, but there was something about him…those eyes, the accent. And there was only one person who’d ever had such an immediate effect on her. “Thorsen Black?”
“That would be me.” His smile kicked up a notch, his gaze making her feel like she was the only person there. “And you could only be Riley. Riley Carter.”
“That’s me. Have you been to the Siren Song Inn before?” She must have had her head stuck in a hole to not notice him the last time he’d come to the inn. Even the writers were opening the windows on the bus and jostling for a better view.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” The humor in his smile had her wondering when they’d last met. “Think back to when we were teenagers. You got yourself stuck on the cliff…”
“Oh, god…” She squeezed her eyes shut and cringed.
That had been one of the most embarrassing moments of her life, and one she thought she’d left behind along with her braces and training bras. Memories of that summer flooded her head as she thought of the teenage boy who’d saved her that day. He’d ended up being her first true love—and her first. But…she looked at the name. It was different to what she remembered.
He must have seen her confusion. “I used to go by my middle name back then—Eirik.”
Eirik Black. That was the name she remembered.
How often had she thought of him over the years? Maybe it was because their summer together—and the one after that—had been magical and he’d been the first guy she’d fallen in love with. But it seemed like no other relationship ever came close to measuring up. Not even the good ones.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” With her heart racing erratically, she gave him a quick hug, not quite believing Eirik—Thorsen—was standing in front of her. “How have you been?”
“Good. You?”
Someone cleared their throat, keeping them from reminiscing further. Riley turned to
find the last person on her list. “Anna Blake?”
“It is.” A smile graced her face for no more than a second before fading to a no-nonsense demeanor.
“Well…welcome to the island.” Riley managed a smile, though the woman before her didn’t exactly inspire the warm and fuzzies.
Though everyone had their own sense of style, Anna’s outfit didn’t exactly say summer vacation—business attire head to toe, the woman looked like she was a lawyer. Dark suit jacket, even in the middle of summer, paired with a slim skirt and white blouse, heels that looked better suited to Manhattan than Maine, and blonde hair that was perfectly styled and probably cost hundreds to cut and an hour to style. They hadn’t scheduled any corporate events, since most of their summer business came from vacationing tourists.
Riley got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she rechecked the name on her list. Anna Blake. There was no company listed near her name. Not that there would be. She managed another smile, though she couldn’t help but wonder if Anna was from Holt Enterprises. “That’s everyone. If you’d like to grab a seat on the bus, we’ll get going.”
Thorsen stepped to the side to let Anna go first, leaving them alone for the moment—if one didn’t count the gaggle of romance writers watching their every move. He was only inches away and giving her a smile that had her toes curling, her breath catching, and her pulse doing cartwheels. “I know you’ll be working, but I’d love to get together and catch up. It’s been ages.”
She melted into those blue eyes, her gaze darting to those lush lips of his as her mind and body vividly imagined what it would be like to kiss him after all these years. Giving him a smile, she managed to concentrate long enough to give him an answer, though her voice came out all breathy, betraying the effect he was having on her. “I might be able to swing that.”
Thorsen could barely pull his gaze away from Riley long enough to take in the island. As a seventeen-year-old boy, he’d been absolutely smitten with her, head over heels in love, and their two summers together nowhere near long enough.
And now? He was in no better shape than he’d been back then. The feelings he’d once had for her seemed to hit him like a runaway train, though he wondered if they’d ever really left him. Perhaps he’d just tucked them away in a safe place, knowing that until now, his life was too chaotic to accommodate anything more than a quick hook-up.
And Riley sure as hell was not just hook-up material.
She’d been sweet and cute when they’d been teens, but now she was nothing short of a natural beauty. Her long dark brown hair caught the sun so it shone with shades of red, and freckles danced across her cheeks, making her green eyes sparkle. His only regret was that he’d lost track of her after their last summer together. They’d tried to stay in touch, but Thorsen had been sent back to England to finish his last year of boarding school. The heavy workload and the strict school rules hadn’t allowed for many distractions.
Well, this time around, he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d spent the years since that last summer thinking about her, wanting her—replaying their one time together over and over in his head, their intimate moment stolen the night before he flew back home to England. There may have been others since then, but he knew no one else would truly do.
He’d dated plenty, but they’d been nothing more than a way to keep his mind off Riley. How many times had he thought of tracking her down? It would have been simple enough to do, and yet she would have been nothing but a temptation he couldn’t pursue, given the work he’d been doing for Interpol. Any sort of serious relationship would only have put her in jeopardy, and that wasn’t a risk he’d been willing to take.
But now? He’d switched gears professionally, and that meant he could finally think of settling down to a normal life, and go after the one and only thing he’d ever wanted—Riley.
A wave of memories hit him as they rounded the corner in the road and he saw it off in the distance. The Siren Song Inn. The sprawling estate was just as he remembered it.
Originally built during the late eighteen hundreds as a summer getaway and health resort, it had changed very little from its original blueprint. Painted a cheery yellow with white shutters and trim, the Siren was made picture-perfect with flower boxes added to every window while the sea and sky served as an ever-changing backdrop. A farmer’s porch wrapped all the way around the building, and rocking chairs afforded the guests a place to sit, so they could enjoy the view with their company. It was everything one could want in a summer resort.
And yet it was so much more.
Though he hadn’t been at the helm of the family business long, Riley and the Siren Song Inn had never left his mind for long. Fueled by his memories of the perfect summers he’d spent on Mermaid Isle, it didn’t take long for Thorsen to convince the other board members that it would be a sound investment. Days later, they’d made a generous offer on the Siren.
The fact that Riley was the manager seemed serendipitous. If he’d had any doubts as to whether or not to buy the quaint inn by the cliffs, that was enough to have him signing on the dotted line.
Not that Riley could know he was the head of Holt Enterprises—not yet anyway. Given his complicated dealings with Interpol, only the members on the board and a handful of lawyers knew of his standing and his involvement at Holt. And, he’d like to make sure it stayed that way. Though he might no longer be actively working with Interpol, it made little difference to the enemies he’d made over the years.
Not even Anna Blake knew she was sitting on the bus with one of her bosses—though what exactly she was doing on the island remained to be seen. He suspected his cousin, Mark, was behind it.
Mark had been hoping Thorsen would remain a silent partner, so he could gain control of Holt. Unfortunately, his cousin had been sorely disappointed, and given that they’d never liked each other much to begin with, the tension between them had only grown in the last few months.
Buying the inn had been a controversial move, but it would be even more so if it didn’t soon turn a nice profit. Though Thorsen held controlling interest in Holt, he still had board members to appease, and the last thing he wanted was a coup—one Mark would happily lead with torches and pitchforks.
Having inherited his position in the company, every business decision he made was being questioned and scrutinized, and too many unhappy board members could mean losing control of his family’s company. He owned the largest percentage compared to the other members; however, their sum total could override him in a decision. It was a precarious position to be in.
The bus pulled to a stop, though Thorsen held back and let everyone else get off first with the hope of getting Riley to himself, even if for a moment. A trio of women ogled him quite blatantly, but he just had to smile, flattered. Once he and Riley were the last two on the bus, he moved towards the exit where she stood.
She gave him a tentative smile. “I’m afraid you might get more of that…we’ve got a romance writer’s conference going on, and let’s just say, the ladies like their leading men and have a wild imagination.”
He barked out a laugh. “That explains it then. Do you do a lot of that sort of thing here at the inn?”
“It helps keep the place full. We’ve managed better than most places with the slow economy, but…” Worry clouded over her eyes and her shoulders slumped, though she was quick to recover. “It’s all good. This place has been around too long to not adapt and survive.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He smiled and followed her off the bus.
Several inn employees were there to help them with their luggage and to check them in, and it didn’t take long before he had his key card in hand. He lingered until she had a free moment, still desperate to talk to her some more. “I know you’re busy, but I don’t suppose I could interest you in dinner? Maybe tonight—unless you already have plans. It’s been far too long, Riley.”
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��Tonight?” Mulling it over, she bit her bottom lip, making him want to kiss her.
“It’s just dinner between old friends, darling.” He was now worried she’d say no. “We could do it another night if you need to check with your boyfriend—or are you not supposed to mingle with the guests?”
That got him a laugh. “No boyfriend to check in with, and given that I’m here twenty-four-seven, my social life would be a black hole if I couldn’t hang out with the guests. But work’s a bit complicated right about now.”
“Go on, Riley! Let the poor man take you to dinner.” One of the romance writers nudged her while passing by, though the group of writers didn’t look like they were going anywhere in a hurry.
He could see her mulling it over, and it left his gut in knots. After wanting her all these years, she had to say yes. “You still have to eat, right? Maybe leaving work behind for an evening is exactly what you need.”
“Well, dinner usually consists of me grabbing something on the run between events we’re hosting or while doing paperwork.” Looking down, she laughed and shook her head. “I know—it’s sad, isn’t it?”
It was clear Riley poured everything she had into running the inn, and probably never stopped or slowed down enough to take a moment for herself. “All the more reason to say yes.”
The light in her eyes had his heart pounding against his chest, making him want to steal the kiss that was over a decade too late. And then the romance writers backed him up once more, urging Riley on until she rolled her eyes at them with a smile. “You’re right. Someone else can run this place for a night and dinner would be…really nice. Seven in the lobby?”
“Sounds perfect.” He grabbed his bag and wandered towards the stairs, pausing for a moment at the group of women. “My sincerest thanks, ladies.”
