She changed into her swimsuit, wrapped a towel around herself, then scribbled a note to Daniel asking him to confirm whether tomorrow would suit him. So much for trying to avoid him—now she was consigned to spending several hours with him, all for some potential business that wasn't hers and might not exist anyway. Resigned to her fate, she slipped the note under his door and headed for the pool where she dived straight in, slicing through the water in an attempt to improve her frame of mind.
The more she thought about being with Daniel the following day, the less she liked the idea. She didn't appreciate the way her pulse raced when she saw him, or the fact that he made her so jumpy and behave so out of character. Yet he'd been charming and good company last night—or so she'd thought. Hmm.
Looking back on their evening now, disappointment began to seep through her. She'd assumed he was being sociable, showing such an interest in the hotel and the local area, but what she'd read about him this morning took her thoughts in another direction. Could he have asked her out solely for business purposes? Did he see her merely as a source of information, someone with inside knowledge about how the hotel was run? If so, it was hardly complimentary. And yet the way he'd reached out to touch her hair last night suggested he wasn't only interested in her in a business capacity.
With her head full of possibilities—and none of them palatable—she climbed out of the pool and brushed hair from her eyes, only to see Daniel standing in the shade by the hedge. How long he'd been there she had no idea. Acutely aware of her wet swimsuit clinging to her curves, she snatched up her towel as he moved with cat-like strides towards her.
"I came to tell you that tomorrow's fine for the trip."
His tone and stance were so supremely confident, something in her snapped. She was mistress of her own destiny, surely? This was her holiday. She shouldn't have to do anything she didn't want to. During her swim, she'd worked herself into quite a frenzy. The notion that Daniel was only interested in a quick fling or an inside track for his business dealings—or both—was still in the forefront of her mind.
"I'm sorry, but I won't be able to come with you after all," she said, desperately searching her panicked mind for a plausible excuse.
"That's not what your note said." Surprise wiped the smile from his face, much to her satisfaction. "Your note said you'd booked two places and . . ."
"I know what it said, but I've changed my mind. There's too much to do here. I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll enjoy the trip anyway." She made a move to get past him, but he stepped across the path to stop her.
"What's going on, Laura?" There was a slight edge in his voice as he spoke, and she couldn't fail to notice the temper in his eyes.
"I need to go change. Excuse me," she mumbled, knowing she sounded no better than a sulky schoolchild.
"Not until you tell me why you're being so uncooperative all of a sudden."
"If it's cooperation you want, then I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere!" she snapped.
"What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, bewilderment clear in his voice and his eyes.
Might as well come out and say it. "I'm not some flighty tourist looking for a good time, Daniel."
His eyes were unreadable. "I never suggested you were. Last night . . ."
"It was just dinner, for goodness' sake!" Laura wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince herself or Daniel of that fact, adding, "It should hardly be taken as an open invitation!"
His eyes narrowed. "You know as well as I do that I never took it as an open invitation to anything. I let you go when you wanted to, didn't I?" When she made no reply, he said it again. "Didn't I?"
"Yes." Floundering in her argument, she turned away, only to see the Hursts heading down the path towards the pool. Anxious to end this confrontation, she turned back to him. "Let me get past, Daniel. I don't want to discuss this anymore."
"Why not? You started it."
She sighed, exasperated with her own weak stance. "There are people coming."
He didn't budge. "Good. That gives you about—" he glanced back up the path "—twenty seconds to tell me exactly why you don't want to discuss this . . . whatever this is . . . like the adults we are."
Resentful of his implication that she was behaving childishly, Laura's eyes flashed fire. "There's no point in discussing anything, because I have no intention of a repeat performance!"
His eyes glittered. "You're right about one thing—it was only dinner, and that was all I'd ever intended it to be. But it went a little beyond that, and since that involves both of us, you're not the only one who has a say in whether there'll be a repeat performance or not!"
As the Hursts rounded the hedge, he stepped out of her way, but when she moved to pass him, he spoke again. Conscious that they had company, he kept his voice low. "I'll call for you at eleven tomorrow in case you change your mind. You seem pretty good at that."
And before she could argue, he stalked away.
****
Furious, Daniel slammed into his room, picked up his car keys, and headed into town earlier than planned. He couldn't have felt less like spending the evening trawling the restaurants there, but part of his job was getting to know an area before he recommended it with full personal knowledge to his clients.
As he drove, he willed himself to calm down. The woman was driving him mad! He couldn't fathom her changing moods—irritable one minute, polite and professional the next—and underneath it all, a seductive quality he suspected she didn't even know she had.
He wasn't happy about the way things had been left. As far as he was concerned, the way their evening had ended yesterday was unfinished business. He had a feeling it wouldn't have ended quite so chastely if that light hadn't startled them, and he couldn't help wondering why she'd run. It might have been the gentlemanly thing to let her go, but he wasn't a gentleman who liked loose ends.
But she'd refused to discuss it this morning, and since there was nothing he could do about that, he'd gone off to meetings at several hotels in and around town, drunk far too much strong coffee, and told himself his heart missing a beat or two whenever he saw her was only a natural reaction for a red-blooded male. His disastrous affair with Natalie might have served him up a healthy portion of caution alongside its attendant fireworks, but Laura's appeal was hard to ignore.
He was still having trouble shaking off the image of her coming out of the pool this afternoon. Distracted by the droplets of water glistening against her lightly tanned skin, he'd been wrong-footed by her change of heart over the boat trip, and as though he'd used up all his diplomatic skills during his meetings, he'd acted like an arrogant idiot.
Even so, he couldn't see why she was making such a fuss over a simple dinner date. Then again, he wasn't sure why he was, either. He was hardly in a position to embark on a long-term relationship, and she was obviously skittish about anything more frivolous—she'd made that perfectly clear by the pool.
As he parked in town and began wandering the streets, Daniel had to force himself to concentrate on the task in hand. He'd learned his way around over the past couple of days, and now he wanted to take in the evening atmosphere. After tomorrow's boat trip, he would have to spread his sights further afield to the surrounding towns and cities, the countryside, the beaches . . . it made him tired just thinking about it. Five years ago he would have been full of enthusiasm. Even two years ago. Now he just wanted to stay in one place for more than two minutes at a time.
Choosing a popular-looking restaurant on one of the main thoroughfares, he allowed himself to be led to a table and glanced over the menu handed to him without interest. It seemed he was becoming jaded about eating out, too. He supposed he could have chosen to stay in a hotel that offered evening meals, but his clients were often the independent type who disliked that sort of arrangement, and he felt obliged to sample the sort of restaurant and nightlife they would experience if they came here.
The menu choices blurred in front of his eyes as he allowed hi
s mind to drift. He wondered what Ben was doing tonight. He supposed Becky would have cooked a nice, simple meal that they would have shared as a family unit. Not that anything else was simple about Ben's family life, and Daniel certainly didn't envy him his complications. Well, maybe just a little. It must be nice to know where you were going to sleep each night, what you would eat, who you would eat and chat with. His mind wandered back to yesterday evening with Laura—the candlelight between them, her animation as she chattered about her work, her catching enthusiasm as she told him about the hotel and its surrounding area. Her eyes shining, her hair soft and long and . . .
"If you're dithering, the swordfish is good here."
Rudely jolted from his reverie, Daniel looked across to where Natalie was throwing her jacket across a chair. Disorientated by the reality now sitting opposite him instead of the memory of the woman who had been seated across from him last night, he could only frown as his eyes swam back into focus.
When they did, he slapped his menu down on the table. "What are you doing here?"
"Same as you, I imagine." Natalie kept her cool. "I came out to eat."
"At the same restaurant as me?"
Her laugh was a light tinkle that grated on his nerves. "There's no law against it, Daniel." When his eyes narrowed in suspicion, she added, "This place is just around the corner from my hotel. You should know—you booked me in there."
She picked up his menu, called the waiter over, and before he could think to intervene, she had ordered wine and swordfish for them both. Unless he was willing to make a public fuss in a crowded restaurant, he was stuck with her. Besides, when he glanced around, he could see there were no longer any free tables.
"So, how's it going?" she asked him.
"Fine. When are you flying back?" Nothing like a blunt question. Between Laura and Natalie, he was beginning to think his tact and diplomacy skills were being worn away to nothing.
His current companion put out her bottom lip in a coy pout. "I told you—not yet. I rather like it here."
"I spoke to Ben yesterday."
"Oh?" Her eyes were cagey. "Is everything okay?"
"No." Their wine arrived and he waited until the waiter had left before continuing. "He's a little overworked on his own."
Natalie waved a hand in dismissal. "He's a big boy. He'll manage."
"We don't appreciate you playing us off against one another, Natalie. Ben has a mountain of his own problems without you adding to them."
At this, she failed to hide her irritation. "That's right—there you go again, putting him first, just like you always do. Ahead of yourself, ahead of us, ahead of anyone who might get close to you . . ."
Daniel sighed. "There is no 'us,' Natalie. We gave it a shot and it didn't work."
"Only because you wouldn't let it," she almost spat. "If you'd have made Ben do his fair share for a change, if you didn't let him ride roughshod all over you . . ."
"That's enough!" When a couple at the next table began to stare, he lowered his voice. "That's my brother you're talking about, and don't you forget it. The situation is what it is. It can't be helped." He took a deep breath, followed by a deep gulp of his wine, and stared across at his distinctly sulky dinner partner. Eighteen months ago, maybe even a year ago, he would have looked at her with desire, with the conviction that their relationship was a good idea and that they both understood its limitations.
He'd been wrong. Now he was struggling to understand why he'd been so attracted to her. Oh, she was beautiful all right, but it was an icy, brittle, artificial beauty. Laura's face swam into his mind—open, honest, and warm, with a kind of self-possession that didn't depend on anyone else.
"Daniel? Are you alright?" Natalie was staring at him. Their food had arrived and he hadn't even noticed.
"Fine. I'm fine." He watched her take a dainty bite of swordfish as though nothing was wrong, and clamped down hard on his temper. "Natalie, you have to stop playing these games. They're not helping anyone. You and I were finished months ago."
Her pout came back. "We don't have to be, Daniel. We could make it work." Her eyes narrowed. "Or is there something you're not telling me? Someone else?"
Like a lightning flash at the back of his mind, Daniel's thoughts tore in two directions at once. No, there was no one else. How could there be? He didn't have the time, the energy, the inclination, the possibility . . . and yet . . . maybe there was someone else.
"No," he said.
She visibly relaxed and took another bite of fish. "Try some. It's tasty."
"I've lost my appetite." Fishing notes from his wallet, he tossed them onto the table and left Natalie staring after him as he walked out of the restaurant. He needed fresh air.
Chapter Nine
Laura spent her evening in a black mood, too. She wasn't accustomed to anyone getting under her skin to such an extent as Daniel did, making her so snarly and out of sorts. She knew she'd climbed out of the pool just spoiling for a confrontation—but he hadn't been shy about joining in, had he?
The thought of making polite conversation over dinner up at the house held no appeal. Catching Teresa out in the garden, she feigned a headache and said she would go to bed early.
Her stint in reception was quiet, giving her plenty of time to fume and worry. Could she risk future business for Paulo by refusing to go on the trip tomorrow? Or should she swallow her pride and tag along like a good girl? If she chose the latter, she had another problem to contend with: she could no longer deny she was attracted to Daniel. More to the point, she wasn't sure she could trust herself not to act on that attraction. That definitely bothered her.
Laura wasn't a hermit—she allowed herself a date or two with someone she liked from time to time—but as soon as things started to get serious, she would make her excuses and back out. Life was less complicated that way, and besides, she hadn't felt a strong enough urge to take things further with anyone. She was happy with her own company, loved teaching, and had plenty of friends and interests. What more could she need? She was only twenty-seven, so there was plenty of time yet to change her mind . . . something her mother was all too keen to encourage.
She would have thought her mother would be the last person to think that way. Wasn't she proof that happily ever after didn't always mean what it said? Laura had spent her childhood listening to tales of how and when her mother and father had met, how her mother just knew he was Mr. Right, that it was love at first sight. Those stories stopped abruptly when her father walked out. Her mother, so caught up in her own fairy tale, hadn't seen the signs until it was too late. With her entire married life pulled out from under her feet, her reality had crumbled, and it took a long time for Laura and her brother to build it back up for her. It was hardly surprising they both had a rather jaundiced view of the path of true love.
Not that this had anything to do with Daniel, of course. Why would it? It wasn't as if she was falling in love with him! A little in lust, maybe, but that was easily handled. Self-restraint was all it took, and Laura was a master at it. She might have to work a little harder this time, admittedly, but she could start by making her position clear to him.
By the time she went to bed, she genuinely did have a headache. After tossing and turning, when she sat up in bed to see it was three in the morning, her sleep-deprived temper snapped. Enough was enough! She would not lose one more wink of sleep over a stupid boat trip. Yes, she had a duty to Paulo to make his guests welcome. She did not, however, have a duty to go with them wherever and whenever they wanted. When Daniel called for her tomorrow, she would be far away on a long drive. If he was the professional businessman his Web site would have her believe, she doubted her behaviour would affect any decision he might make regarding the hotel—if there was one to make.
Her mind made up, she settled back down under the covers to fall into an exhausted sleep.
****
Despite the sun streaming through the curtains, it took the shrill bell of the alarm to wake her an
d a long shower to open her eyes fully. With no time for breakfast, she grabbed a roll and coffee from the breakfast bar and went straight to reception.
Thankfully there was only a trickle of requests to deal with, giving her a fighting chance to come back to the land of the living. It was surprising what simple daylight could do; her common sense was intact once more, and the worries that had kept her awake half the night felt more like molehills than mountains now. She couldn't think why she'd made such a big deal out of it. She'd agreed to go on the trip and then she'd changed her mind—which she had every right to do.
As she left reception, Maria waved at her from the garden. "Join me for a cup of tea?"
Laura followed the older woman into the kitchen. She had to be off soon if she wanted to avoid Daniel, but there was time for a quick cuppa.
"Have you heard from Paulo?" she asked Maria.
"Yes, he phoned yesterday. He spent most of the conversation complaining about the rain!"
Laura laughed. Paulo had it in for the British weather—although to be fair, the British weather seemed to have it in for him, too. "I hope you told him we can manage perfectly well without him."
"Of course, but you know Paulo, he never quite believes us." Maria sighed. "I told him to stop thinking about work and enjoy his holiday. That boy has too many worries. Rachel is determined he should forget it all for a while and relax. She even joked about making sure he loses his phone!"
Laura frowned. "What worries, Maria? I thought it was all going well here?"
"Oh, it is, for now. We're not in trouble or anything, but . . ." She hesitated a moment. "I think of you as family, Laura, you know that. Between you and me, Paulo is worried that the British company we block-let some of the rooms to might not come up to the Costa Verde at all next year. There's a rumour they're thinking of concentrating on the Algarve."
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