by Susan Wiggs
Her plans had been derailed by a teenage pregnancy and the responsibility of raising a child alone. No, she thought. Not derailed. Delayed. Now an opportunity had opened up and Nina was determined to seize it. She was ready for something new in her life. With Sonnet gone, she needed it.
To some people, being an innkeeper might not have sounded like much. To Nina, it was the start of a long-held dream. As they glided close to the dock, she felt a warm thrill of excitement, not unlike the sort of thrill she was supposed to feel for her date.
“So there it is,” she said. “I can’t wait to get started.”
He was quiet. She wondered if he was checking her out and twisted around in her seat. “Shane?”
“Yeah, about that,” he said, jerking his helmeted head in the direction of the inn. “There’ve been some interesting developments at the bank.”
Nina frowned. “‘Interesting’ sounds a bit ominous.”
“While you were away, Bailey retired and moved to Florida.”
She relaxed. “I know. I sent him a card.”
“And we brought in a new asset manager from the main branch, a woman named Brooke Harlow. She made some changes in her department. She had orders from the home office to improve her bottom line.”
Nina’s heart faltered. “She’s still going to honor my contract, right?”
“Rest assured, that contract is considered a valuable part of the package. You have a fantastic reputation. No question you’re the best general manager for the job.”
“Why doesn’t this sound so good to me, Shane?” she asked.
“Well, actually, it could be very good. The Inn at Willow Lake has been sold, and your contract with it.”
She turned again and scowled at him. “Not funny.”
“I’m not telling you to be funny. It’s just something that happened.”
“It can’t happen.” Yet the churning of her stomach told her that indeed, it could. “I expected the bank to give me the option to buy the place as soon as I’m able to qualify for a loan.”
“I’m sure you knew it was a possibility that the bank would divest itself of the property if a buyer came along.”
“But Mr. Bailey said—”
“I’m sorry, Nina. That’s what happened.”
She’d been aware of the risk. She’d known it when she signed her contract, but Mr. Bailey had told her the possibility was highly unlikely. As soon as Nina qualified for a small-business loan, she would be in a position to buy the place.
The Inn at Willow Lake. Sold.
For a few moments, she couldn’t get her mind around the reality. It just seemed like such a foreign concept. Of course the inn would be sold one day—to her. That had always been the plan.
“Anyway,” Shane went on, ignoring the fact that every word that came out of his mouth was another hammer blow, “it belongs to someone else now. You won’t believe who the buyer is.”
Nina Romano felt something snap inside her. This clueless man, this spray-skirt-wearing lousy kisser, was sitting there informing her that her entire future, the one thing she had counted on to fill her life now that Sonnet was gone, had been taken away. It was too much.
“Hey, are you all right?” he asked.
Not the smartest question to ask an Italian-American woman with steam coming out of her ears.
Nina’s body was not her own. As though possessed by demons, she reared up in the kayak and went for his throat.
Copyright © 2007 by Susan Wiggs
ISBN-13: 9781460397381
The Winter Lodge
Copyright © 2007 by Susan Wiggs
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9 Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com