A Match for Celia

“I’m well aware of that.” She avoided his eyes as she concentrated on her dinner.

They picked up the conversation a few minutes later. They kept it

light, impersonal, and carefully avoided any mention of Damien Alexander.

After dinner, Reed asked again if Celia would like to take a walk on the beach with him. Maybe visit the lounge, which provided live music for dancing on weekends.

Standing beside him on the path outside the restaurant, Celia hesitated, wistfully replaying her earlier fantasy. And then she shook her head. “I have a few calls to make this evening. Thank you for going sightseeing with me, Reed. I had a very nice afternoon.”

“So did I. I’m glad you kidnapped me.”

She smiled. “Good night.”

“Would you like me to walk you to your room?”

“No, that’s not necessary.”

He nodded, not bothering to argue. “Then I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, of course. Good night,” she repeated, and turned away. Reed made no effort to detain her.

As she walked alone to her elegant suite, she tried to convince herself that she hadn’t wanted anything more from this evening. Or from Reed Hollander.

Her life was complicated enough at the moment.

Chapter Four

Reed ended up walking the beach alone after discreetly making sure that Celia did, indeed, return to her rooms after dinner.

He stayed right at the edge of the gently lapping Gulf waters, his shoes sinking slightly into the wet sand beneath them. He was aware of the fragrance of nearby flowers, the taste of salt in the steady breeze, the sounds of the waves and the glow of full moonlight. He knew he wasn’t the only one out enjoying the evening, but the few others kept to themselves, reinforcing the illusion of solitude.

He was well aware that, had he been a bit more tactful with Celia, he wouldn’t be walking alone.

He shouldn’t have sounded so judgmental when they’d talked about Damien Alexander. Celia had already claimed the guy as her friend; was, after all, here as Alexander’s guest. Reed had already known she became defensive about him. But still, he’d found himself going cold and stiff when Alexander’s name came up, and Celia had obviously noticed.

Real smooth, Hollander.

His job was to observe, not to form judgments. He was supposed to subtly pump Celia for useful information, something he had no hope of doing if his behavior set her guard up. Celia wasn’t going to let anything slip about Alexander running illegal shipments of stolen military weapons if she was too busy depicting him as just a nice, upstanding guy who’d been viciously maligned by the gossip sheets.

Reed was having one hell of a time getting a handle on her. She’d admitted that she’d been bored, restless with her sheltered, small-town life, which could indicate that she’d turn to the quick money and exciting subterfuge to be found by cooperating with Alexander. Yet he’d seen how uncomfortable she’d been here for the past few days, even with Alexander’s entire staff all but standing on their heads to please her.

She hadn’t asked for special treatment, hadn’t ordered the most expensive items from the restaurant menu, even though it had been made clear that her meals were on the house. She hadn’t even visited the expensive gift shop, at least not that Reed had seen.

She’d spent the entire afternoon with him, touring historical sites. And she’d seemed as happy eating hamburgers as she was with Alexander’s gourmet cuisine, as comfortable playing miniature golf as lounging by the resort pool. Why? Because she really was bored, lonely, feeling out of place?

Or—he scowled—was it possible that he’d somehow raised suspicions? That Celia had been instructed to find out more about him, the same way he was trying to find out more about her? Had she been pumping him for information when she’d asked questions about him, rather than displaying any personal interest?

The possibility made his fists clench.

Damn it, he should have thought of it before.

Not that he’d told her anything she shouldn’t know, of course. His fascination with her hadn’t made him that careless.

Movement from his left caught his attention. Without turning his head, he checked it out. A couple stood beneath a scraggly palm tree, locked together, mouths fused, hands roaming. Reed turned his eyes forward and kept walking. And continued to think of Celia.

Celia woke early again Saturday morning, facing another day with nothing in particular to do. Though she’d spent the evening before telling herself to stay away from Reed Hollander in order to avoid any unwanted complications, she found herself thinking of him before she’d even finished her shower. She knew he, too, would be at loose ends today. He would probably be agreeable to spending time with her again.

“Some liberated woman you are,” she grumbled at the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman in the bathroom mirror. “Can’t you have a good time all by yourself?”