A Stranger In The Cove. Rachel Brimble

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      He sipped his drink, his gaze moving back to the band. “I don’t know yet. At least a week.”

      He faced her and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

      Her cheeks warmed, clearly her annoyance with him showed in her voice. “No. Not at all.”

      He slowly ran his gaze over her face, lower to her neck, lingering on her chest for just a second longer than necessary, before he focused on the stage again.

      She lifted her glass to her lips. Every inch of her body was intensely aware of him, and she didn’t like it. Not one tiny bit.

      The guy was aloof, standoffish...maybe even downright rude.

      Good looks and even better bodies were not to be trusted. This guy could be just as much of a cheater as her ex. Even more so, if his terse manner was anything to go by. So why did she want to keep looking at him?

      He leaned his elbow on the bar and faced her. “So...” He took a sip of his drink. “Do you live around here?”

      Feigning nonchalance, she sat straighter on her stool and put forth as much of a welcoming attitude as she could. It wasn’t this stranger’s fault he’d briefly—very briefly—attracted and intrigued her in one very dangerous blow. “Yes.”

      He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s all I get?”

      “That’s all you get.” She held his unwavering gaze. His voice was rich and deep and had the same warming effect on her as a shot of whiskey on a cold night. “That is, until I know a little more about you. Your name would be a good start.”

      He drank. “Mac. Orman.”

      “Pleased to meet you.”

      He studied her for a moment before he took a drink. “So, what else do you want to know?”

      Her gaze dropped involuntarily to his mouth, most likely betraying her nonchalance. She shifted on her seat and lifted her eyes to his. “Why don’t we start with what brought you to the Cove?”

      The seconds ticked by, his blue eyes darkening.

      Kate’s nerves whispered with tension. “Was that not a good question to start with?”

      He flitted his focus to the band once more. “I’m here on business.”

      She frowned. “In Templeton?”

      “It’s as good a place as any, isn’t it?”

      She hazarded a guess that his cold tone was meant to make her believe it was no big deal why he was in Templeton. Little did Mr. Bad Boy know, she was blessed—or sometimes cursed—with the ability to read between the lines and notice when something wasn’t quite right with a situation. Her senses pinged to high alert with this guy, at the stiffness in his body, his clenched jaw and, quite frankly, his whole defensive demeanor.

      She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “You don’t strike me as the type to have work in a small town. You have city nightlife, city women and city trouble written all over you.”

      He faced her. “Why trouble? Because of the way I’m dressed? The fact I’m in a bar on my own?” He shook his head. “Give a guy a break, won’t you?”

      She fought to keep her cool and shrugged. “You seem, I don’t know, a little guarded, that’s all.”

      “Is that right?” Another sip of his drink. “Then why don’t we talk about you?”

      She frowned. “What about me?”

      “Well, I know your name’s Kate. I know you work at a charity. Why?”

      “Why what?”

      “Why a charity? Why that charity?”

      “Does it matter?”

      “No, but I wanted to see how open you are to sharing with strangers, seeing as you’re expecting so much from me.” He lifted his beer and looked around the bar. “As I thought. None of my business. Like why I’m in town is none of yours.”

      She narrowed her eyes as she glared at his profile. “Fine.”

      Vanessa reappeared and slapped a ledger on the bar. “Wow, we are fully booked for Saturday, Kate. It’s going to be a good one, judging by the people traveling in from out of town.” She glanced at Mac and frowned. “I know I promised you a double room if one became free, but are you okay with a single until after the weekend?”

      He shrugged. “Sure. Can’t see any reason I’ll need a double.” He glanced at Kate, and the first semblance of a smile lifted his lips. “At least not for the first week.”

      Her mouth dropped open, but nothing quick or smart emerged.

      He faced Vanessa. “Where do you recommend I go for breakfast tomorrow?”

      Concern flitted into her gaze. “You haven’t enjoyed the breakfast here?”

      “It was fine, but I want to venture out. Discover a bit more about this little town.”

      Little town? Kate shifted. The derogatory way he referred to the Cove niggled.

      “Well, there are some good cafes on the seafront, a bakery if you want some ridiculously delicious pastries and superb coffee. Other than that, the Christie offers full English, but they’re kind of pricey.”

      He sipped his beer. “Great. Thanks.”

      Kate drained her drink. Suspicion whirled inside her about this man and his motives for being here. Mac Orman brimmed with confidence. His whole character screamed that he knew where he was going and what he was doing.

      Yet, something about his cold gaze told her he wasn’t quite as self-confident as he made out. If his interest in the fund-raiser was anything to go by, he could be the caring type.

      He nodded toward his empty glass. “Could I get another one of those?”

      Vanessa picked it up. “Sure.”

      “And one for the lady.”

      Kate flinched. “Me?”

      He nodded, his gaze steady on hers.

      Damned if the man thought he could faze her. She lifted her chin. “A rum and Coke would be great. Thanks.”

      Vanessa grinned. “You’re so funny, Kate. As transparent as a sheet of glass.” She shook her head. “I’ll go grab those drinks.”

      Kate shot a glare at Vanessa’s turned back before taking a deep breath and facing Mac. She forced her mind to the matter at hand rather than wondering if he was ever going to take off his leather jacket so she could see what was underneath. “What sort of work are you in?”

      “Work?”

      “You said you were here on business.”

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