Taking Over The Tycoon. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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      “I have to call and check on a few patients back in Raleigh, but then I’ll come help you with the dishes,” Doug said, excusing himself, too.

      “You don’t have to do that,” Connor said, already getting up. “I’ll assist Kristy.”

      “Have you ever done dishes?” she asked, as she picked up several ice cream bowls and carried them across the lodge dining room to the big kitchen.

      Connor grinned. “I know how to put things in a dishwasher.”

      That surprised Kristy. She wouldn’t have expected a man like Connor to do even that. But she supposed life was different now that he had his own place, as opposed to the mansion where he, Iris and Daisy had grown up.

      Connor stopped in front of the big commercial dishwasher in the kitchen and looked at it uncertainly. “Although I’ve got to say,” he drawled, “the dishwasher in my loft does not look like this.”

      “THANKS FOR THE HELP,” Kristy said, when they had finished cleaning up. She started the big machine and the two of them walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room, to the lobby.

      “I really like what you’ve done here,” Connor murmured appreciatively. The last time he had been here, shortly before Kristy’s aunt had died, the once-popular lodge had been in decline. All he had seen of the interior were the common areas, but even those had been in a state of disrepair and neglect.

      Today, Connor noted, things were different. Although the floor plan of the solidly built establishment remained just as he recalled, the ambience had undergone a stunning transformation. Once outdated and stodgy, the common areas were now fine examples of sunny, oceanfront chic.

      One side of the lobby opened onto the main dining room. On the other side was a large club room, featuring a high cathedral ceiling with exposed beams and a large fieldstone fireplace that took up half of one wall. There were several intimate seating areas, with overstuffed sofas and club chairs. White plantation shutters on the windows were opened during the day, revealing a stunning ocean view. The lobby walls were a soothing pale green, the club room and ceiling white. Sisal rugs dotted the warm distressed-wood floors, and brightly colored Persian runners and unique artwork added color and interest to the lobby.

      “Thanks,” Kristy murmured proudly.

      “You’ve turned it into a very peaceful place,” he continued admiringly.

      She nodded. Appearing distracted, she shot a glance at her brother, who was standing behind the reservation counter, talking with the hospital by phone, and making notations on a paper in front of him. “I’ll walk you out,” she said.

      Doing his best to hide his disappointment—Connor had hoped to spend more time with Kristy that evening—he moved ahead to open the heavy wooden lobby door.

      They stepped out onto the wide piazza that faced the beach. When Ida had been alive, and running Paradise, the porch had been filled with nylon folding chairs. Now wooden rocking chairs, and potted plants and flowers scattered here and there, created a homey look.

      “I’m really happy about what I’ve managed to accomplish here, although I have a lot more to do before any guests arrive. And I appreciate your congratulating me on the booking…” she paused to search his eyes “…although I can’t imagine that you really feel that way.”

      Connor knew he shouldn’t have been happy for her. Any success she had on that score went counter to his business plans. But he was. Maybe because he knew how hard she had been working. And had seen how much revitalizing the old resort meant to her.

      Nevertheless, he didn’t like what her assumption implied. He slid a steadying hand beneath her elbow as they walked down the steps to the sidewalk. Loving the way her bare skin felt beneath his palm, so silky and warm, he guided her around the side of the building, toward the parking lot. “You think I’m insincere?”

      Kristy slid her hands in her pockets as they strolled, side by side, past the flowering bushes that lined the northern edge of the building. Tensing, she slanted him a brief, assessing glance. “What I think is it’s not in your best interests for me to make a success of this place on my own. Because then I’d have absolutely zero interest in selling out to you.”

      They paused as they reached the front grill of his black Mercedes sedan. Connor found himself more reluctant than ever to leave her company as he turned to face her. He let his glance rove over her expressive features. She had been beautiful earlier—in work clothes. Now, in a white, V-necked knit top, knee-length navy shorts and sandals, with her dark, silky hair loose around her shoulders, she looked even more amazing. Connor didn’t know if it was the soft swell of her breasts, the indentation of her slender waist or her slim, sexy legs that put his hormones in over-drive whenever he was around her. All he knew for certain was that when he was with her, he was completely entranced by the feisty tilt of her chin and the intelligence and wit sparkling in her dark brown eyes. Without even trying, Kristy Neumeyer challenged him in a way no woman ever had. “You have zero interest in letting me buy you out now,” he pointed out dryly.

      “Correct.” Kristy leaned against the grill of his car and lifted a skeptical brow. “So why are you here?”

      “I was invited to dinner, if I recall.”

      “And then dis-invited,” she reminded him archly.

      Connor lounged against the front of the vehicle, as well. “My sister Daisy speaks so highly of you I figured I should get to know you, too.”

      Kristy folded her arms in front of her and glared at him somewhat contentiously. “Um-hmm.”

      Connor grinned as fire leaped in her pretty eyes. “Don’t believe me?” he teased.

      “Right now,” Kristy sighed, whirling away from him, “I don’t know what to believe.”

      Connor came up behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around again. “Or whom to trust?”

      She tilted her face up to his, admitting candidly, “Or whom to trust.”

      An awkward silence fell between them.

      Deciding trust would not come until it was earned, and that that would take time, Connor moved on to other pressing matters that needed her attention. “I hate to bring it up—” he inclined his head toward the tall palmetto tree they were standing next to “—but I noticed on the way in this evening that those trees lining the driveway and pathways aren’t looking too good.”

      “I know.” Kristy glanced upward with a frown. The fan-shaped leaves at the very top should have been a healthy green. Instead, they seemed to be losing both color and luster, and the edges were tobacco-brown and curling. “I’ve called an arborist,” she said with a troubled sigh. “She’s coming out tomorrow to have a look.”

      “It’d be a shame to lose them,” Connor stated gently. “It would cost a mint to have to replace them.”

      When Kristy narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, he lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!”

      “As long as that’s all you are,” Kristy allowed.

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