Touch of Fate. A.C. Arthur

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СКАЧАТЬ his shower maybe. Still, the scent seemed to match what she’d seen of him. Confident. Intriguing. “Both.”

      “Cryptic again. You don’t like talking about yourself much, huh?”

      He shrugged. “I just think there are more interesting things to talk about.”

      “Okay, well let’s talk about the company you work for, what do they do?”

      He smiled and she smiled back.

      “Persistent. I like that.”

      His words sent little shivers dancing down her spine.

      “My cousin and I are partners in a company that purchases properties, refurbishes and resells them.”

      “Oh, you’re house flippers. I’ve seen them on television.”

      His quick frown was unmistakable. “We’re not house flippers. We buy properties such as large estates, office buildings, resorts. We’re a much higher class than those you see on television.”

      Because he seemed a bit bothered by her assessment of his business, Deena pushed on. She couldn’t help it, it was just her way. “You’re into the ‘class’ thing? Like you’re better than them because you don’t buy houses that everyday people would want? What class are your clients? Better yet, what class am I?”

      He straightened in his chair, those intriguing eyes keeping her still, frozen in his gaze.

      “First, that’s not what I meant. I do not abide by any class system. I was referring to the level of real estate work I do in comparison. Second, I never judge people by their circumstances. And third, I like your tattoo.”

      Deena opened her mouth, fully prepared to blast his response, but then she snapped it shut. “Okay,” she said finally, clearing her throat. “Ah, thanks.”

      He’d seen her tattoo. When? Probably when he’d first come into the kitchen because she knew she’d been alone at the pool. She shifted in her chair and tried to keep her gaze steady with his. But she had to admit, his compliment had thrown her off.

      “Do you like butterflies?” he asked, his voice suddenly somber.

      “Butterflies and moonlit walks.”

      He lifted a brow. “Are you asking me to walk with you under the moonlight?”

      She stared at him a second longer, thought about what he’d asked and what she wanted. He was fine, but he was also sure of himself. Sure that he could have anything and anyone he wanted. Of course, this was her quick assessment of him and she could certainly be wrong. But for right now it was what she thought, and so, she needed to react accordingly. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

      Standing, she extended her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Donovan.”

      Max, still in awe of her quick wit and spirited personality, not to mention her pretty face and sexy tattoo, stood, taking her offered hand. Before he could examine the action, he was lifting her hand to his lips and placing a tender kiss on its back. “The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Lakefield,” he said.

      Slipping her hand easily out of his grip, she said simply, “Good night.”

      Yes, Max thought when she’d left him alone in the kitchen. This had turned out to be a good night. And if he had his way it would end up being a very good trip.

       New York

      “She’s where?” Monica Lakefield slammed her briefcase onto her desk before pulling out her chair and taking a seat.

      “Hilton Head, South Carolina,” Karena replied in a tone that was too nonchalant for her.

      “What’s she doing there?”

      “Probably writing her next book.”

      “Book? Are you serious? When is she going to find a job?”

      Karena sighed. “Writing is her job, Monica. Her book’s in the stores in case you didn’t know.”

      “I know about the book. I’ve ordered a couple hundred of them in the past week. But really,” she said, her coral-painted nails moving swiftly over the keyboard, “is she making this a full-time permanent thing?”

      “Yes. I think she is. Actually, I think she should. She’s good, Monica. You should read one of those hundreds of books you bought. This might be what she really needs to do.”

      “She really needs a steady income and a pension plan.” Monica sighed. Why was she the only person in her family who thought along the lines of responsibility? Well, there was her father, Paul Lakefield, but he was more like a dictator in Monica’s book. She, on the other hand, was just being practical.

      “Deena will be fine. She has her trust fund that she hasn’t touched. And besides, Deena’s always done whatever was necessary to take care of herself. She doesn’t ask us for anything.”

      “You’re right,” Monica agreed. Her youngest sister never asked her for help. Truth be told, Monica was a little hurt by that fact. But she’d never let anybody else know that.

      “Well, does she at least have an agent or an attorney to make sure she’s not signing her soul away on one of those publishing contracts?”

      “Last time I talked to her she was interviewing a couple of prospects. Don’t know if she’s actually signed with one yet, but it’s one of her priorities.”

      Monica chuckled.

      Karena looked at her in a funny way. “What?”

      “Nothing. I just can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh.”

      “Well, I’m not the one shacking up with the handsome detective so maybe I don’t have anything to laugh about. But you’ve got to admit, Deena with priorities is funny.”

      Karena smiled. “At one time you would have been right but I think she’s changing.”

      Karena had reached into her own briefcase, no doubt to pull out the sales report they were meeting to go over. That was to signal the end of the discussion on Deena.

      Monica still wasn’t certain she liked the idea of her sister being so far away by herself but recognized there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it at the moment. Maybe Deena was changing, maybe she could handle things on her own. No, her little sister was still naive to the world and all its pitfalls. For that reason she vowed to keep a close eye on her, to make sure that nothing or anyone would ever hurt Deena, the way she’d been hurt.

      She’d done something different with her hair today. The shoulder-length locks had been pulled up in the front, twisted into some kind of knot, a red flower adding a splash of color. The flower matched a long flowing skirt of red and white and a skimpy red halter top that showed more skin than was probably legal. On her feet were a combination of sassy straps and sexy heels.

      Max was totally undone.

      He’d thought about her all СКАЧАТЬ