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Once in the elevator, Mike propped his shoulders against the rear of the cage dropping them twenty stories. “Misspent?” he echoed. “I’m intrigued.”
More than intrigued. He was as fascinated by this woman’s stunning beauty as by the dark circles under her eyes. She’d tried to conceal them with makeup but the shadows were still visible, like faint bruises marring the pearly luster of her skin.
“I guess misspent is as good a description as any,” she replied with a laugh. “But in my defense I only tried to operate on the family dog once. My brother, unfortunately, didn’t get off as easily. I subjected him to all kinds of torture in the name of medicine.”
“Looks like he survived okay.”
He also looked decidedly less than friendly. Mike didn’t blame the man. He and his brothers had threatened bodily harm to any male who let his glands get out of control while dating one of their sisters.
God knew Mike’s glands were certainly working overtime. Despite those faint shadows under her eyes, Anastazia St. Sebastian was every man’s secret fantasy come to life. Slender, graceful and so sexy she turned heads as they crossed the marble-tiled lobby and exited into the six acres of lush gardens at the center of the Camino del Rey complex.
The vacation complex was only one of several projects Mike’s ever-expanding corporation had invested in to help restore Galveston after Hurricane Ike roared ashore in September 2008. The costliest hurricane in Texas history, Ike claimed more than a hundred lives and did more than $37 billion in damage all along the Gulf. Parts of Galveston were still recovering, but major investments like this beautifully landscaped luxury resort were helping that process considerably.
A frisky ocean breeze teased Zia’s hair as she and Mike wound past the massive Neptune fountain the landscape architect had made the focal point of the gardens. Beyond the statue were two tall, elaborately designed wrought-iron gates that gave directly onto the beach. On the opposite side of the garden, a set of identical gates exited onto San Luis Pass Road, the main artery that ran the length of Galveston Island.
“I made reservations at Casa Mia,” Mike said as he took her elbow to steer her through the gates. “Hope that’s okay.”
“This is my first trip to Galveston. I’m more than happy to trust the judgment of a local.”
Temperatures in South Texas during the summer could give hell a run for its money. In the dead of winter, however, the balmy days and sixty-five-degree evenings were close to heaven...and perfect for strolling the wide sidewalk that bordered San Luis Pass Road. Smooth operator that he was, Mike casually shifted his hold from Zia’s elbow to her forearm. Her skin was warm under his palm, her muscles firm and well-toned. He used the short walk to fill in the essential blanks. Found out she was born in Hungary. Did her undergraduate work at the University of Budapest. Graduated from medical school in Vienna at the top of her class. Had offers from a half-dozen prestigious pediatric residency programs before opting for Mount Sinai in New York City.
She elicited the same basics from him. “Texas born and bred,” he admitted cheerfully. “I traveled quite a bit during my years in the navy, but this area kept pulling me back. It’s home to four generations of Brennans now. My parents, grandparents, one brother and two of my three sisters all live within a few blocks of each other.”
She eyed the ultraexpensive high-rises crowding the beachfront. “Here on the island?”
“No, they live in Houston. So do I, most of the time. I keep a place here on the island for the family to use, though. The kids all love the beach.”
“And you’re not married.”
It was a statement, not a question, which told Mike she wouldn’t be walking through the soft evening light with him if she had any doubts about the matter.
“I was. Didn’t work out.”
That masterful understatement came nowhere close to describing three months of mind-blowing sex followed by three years of growing restlessness, increasing dissatisfaction, angry complaints and, finally, corrosive bitterness. Hers, not his. By the time the marriage was finally over Mike felt as though he’d been dragged through fifty miles of Texas scrub by his heels. He’d survived, but the experience wasn’t one he wanted to repeat again in this lifetime. Although...
His psyche might still be licking its wounds but his head told him marriage would be different with the right woman. Someone who appreciated the dogged determination required to build a multinational corporation from the ground up. Someone who understood that success in any field often meant seventy-or eighty-hour workweeks, missed vacations, opting out of a spur-of-the-moment junket to Vegas.
Someone like the leggy brunette at his side.
Mike slanted the doc a glance. One of his sisters was a nurse. He knew the demands Kathleen’s career made on her and on the other professionals she worked with. Anastazia St. Sebastian had to have a core of steel to make it as far as she had.
His curiosity about the woman mounted as they turned onto a side street. A few steps later they reached the Spanish-style villa that had recently become one of Galveston’s most exclusive spots. It sat behind tall gates with no sign, no lit menu box, no indication at all that it was a commercial establishment. But the hundreds of flickering votive lights in the courtyard drew a pleased gasp from Zia, and the table tucked in a private corner of the candle-lit patio was the one always made available to the top officers and favored clients of Global Shipping Incorporated.
“Back to subjecting your bother to all kinds of medical torture,” he said when they’d been seated and ordered an iced tea for the doc and Vizcaya on ice for Mike, who sincerely hoped a slug of white rum would kill the lingering aftereffects of pálinka. “Did you always want to be a physician?”
“Always.”
The reply was quick but not quite as light as she’d obviously intended. Mike hadn’t survived all those summers and holidays in the bare-knuckle world of the docks without learning to pick up on every nuance, spoken or not.
“But....?” he prompted.
She flashed him a look that ran the gamut from surprised to guarded to deliberately blasé. “Med school’s been a long and rather grueling slog. I’m in the homestretch now, though.”
“But...?” he said again, the word soft against the clink of cutlery and buzz of conversation from other tables.
The arrival of the server with their drinks saved Zia from having to answer. She hadn’t shared her insidious doubts with anyone in her family. Not even Dominic. Yet as she sipped her iced tea she felt the most absurd urge to spill her guts to this stranger.
So why not confide in him? Odds were she’d never see the man again after tonight. There were only a few days left on her precious vacation. And judging from Dev’s comments about Global Shipping Inc., its president and CEO had a shrewd head on his shoulders. Granted, he couldn’t begin to understand the demands and complexities of the medical world but that might actually be a plus. An outsider could assess her situation objectively, without the baggage of having cheered and supported and encouraged her through six and a half years of med school and residency.
“But,” СКАЧАТЬ