“I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready for a rocking chair and a shawl. I want to have fun while I’m young enough to enjoy it. And you are going to have fun, too, Reed Hollander.”
His eyebrows rose. “I am?”
“Yes. Your parents can thank me later. Now, come on, get up out of that chair. We’re going to play.”
“But—”
She lifted an admonishing finger. “No arguments,” she warned. “You’re going to have fun, even if I have to drag you screaming and kicking.”
His firm mouth quirked into what might have been the beginnings of a smile. “That should be an interesting sight.”
“Want to bet that I won’t try it?”
“No,” he said hastily, his smile deepening. “I’m sure you would. But it won’t be necessary.
I accept your graciously extended invitation. I was only going to point out that I don’t have a car.”
She dug into her pocket and dangled a key ring in front of him. “I do.” Damien had taken care of that, of course. “So what are we waiting for?”
“Not a thing.” He took the book from her hands and laid it on the table. “Lead the way.”
“Don’t you want to put your book away first?”
He shook his head. “Anyone who would go to the trouble of stealing it will get exactly what he deserves.”
She chuckled. “Then let’s go.”
He made an old-fashioned “after you” gesture, then followed closely behind her when she moved toward the garage where Damien kept his cars.
She didn’t allow herself to dwell on a nagging suspicion that she had just done something very foolish.
Celia was a bit startled to learn that the vehicle Damien had left for her use was a sleek, glossy black Mercedes convertible. She gulped at the thought of being responsible for a car that cost more than she’d make at the bank in three or four years, but she managed to hide her trepidation from Reed.
They were setting out to have an adventure, she reminded herself firmly. Might as well do so in style.
“Nice car” was all Reed said as he climbed carefully into the passenger’s seat, folding his long legs in front of him.
“It’s Damien’s,” Celia admitted.
“I thought it might be. He won’t mind if you and I…”
“Of course not,” Celia cut in airily. She started the engine, flinched at the resulting powerful roar, then shoved the gear-shift into Reverse.
She nearly gave herself and her passenger whiplash.
“You…er…always drive like this?” Reed asked mildly as they sped away from the resort. He held one hand to the back of his neck, as though checking to make sure her jolting takeoff hadn’t done any permanent damage.
Celia gave him a rather sheepish look of apology. “Sorry. I’m not used to this car. I have a sports car back home, but it’s just a little four-cylinder. I think this one must be a six.”
“Eight,” he corrected her, wincing as she narrowly missed a palm tree that leaned toward the road. “Quite powerful, actually. It would be rather easy to lose control.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Celia assured him, spitting a lock of whipping dark hair out of her mouth. “I’m a great driver.”
A spray of sand, gravel and crushed shells showered upward when the two right tires left the pavement and hit the shoulder. Celia overcorrected, swerved, cursed beneath her breath and brought the car firmly back under control on the right side of the road. She didn’t look at Reed, though she saw that his hands were clenched on his knees, the knuckles conspicuously white.
Reed released his knees to reach for his seat belt. He fastened it with a loud snap. “Yes,” he said, just loudly enough for her to hear. “I can see that my life is in good hands.”
Feeling a bit guilty that her restlessness had made her reckless, Celia eased up on the accelerator. “Sorry. I’ll slow down.”