A Match for Celia

But the problem was, she couldn’t. Celia just wasn’t a loner.

She could find someone else to spend the day with, of course. Yesterday morning she’d chatted for a few minutes with two middle-aged sisters who were vacationing together, and who’d hinted that they wouldn’t mind if she joined them for a shopping jaunt into Mexico or a couple of hours bird-watching on the untamed central section of Padre Island. She’d probably have a very nice time with them.

Of course, she’d had a very nice time with Reed yesterday.

Shaking her head in frustration at her own behavior, she did her makeup, dressed quickly in a navy-and-white, blouse-and-skort outfit, and brushed her hair into a gleaming, straight curtain to her shoulders. She was hungry, she decided. She would think about her plans for the day during breakfast.

She was detained twice on her way to the restaurant. She had hardly left her building before she crossed paths with Enrique Torres, who greeted her warmly and then tried to talk her into joining him and his wife for an afternoon of local sightseeing. Celia graciously declined, fibbing that she’d already made plans for the afternoon.

Torres was frowning worriedly when Celia walked away; she wondered if he suspected that she would be spending another day with Reed. And if he did, why should he care? Surely Damien didn’t expect the resort manager to chaperone any women friends who happened to be at the resort without Damien!

Celia had taken only a few more steps toward the restaurant when the resort social director, Mindi Kellogg, all but chased her down from across the common, calling her name in a shrill voice. “Miss Carson! Miss Carson!”

Celia paused reluctantly, aware of a faint grumble of protest from her stomach. “Yes?”

“I want to personally invite you to join a group of us for an excursion this afternoon. It’s going to be so much fun. We’re visiting the University of Texas–Pan American Coastal Studies Laboratory at Isla Blanca Park to see the aquariums and the shell collection. From there we’ll be stopping at Sea Turtle, Inc. to learn about endangered sea turtles. It’s a fascinating afternoon, I can assure you. One of our most popular activities.”

“It sounds like a lot of fun,” Celia said, “but—”

“If that doesn’t interest you, we have a shuttle that will take you to Matamoros, Mexico. It’s only a thirty-minute trip. Have you been, yet?”

“No, I—”

The blonde grinned and patted Celia’s arm. “Oh, you’d love it. The markets are fascinating, and the museums are very interesting.”

“Thank you, Mindi, but I—”

“Or perhaps you’d rather take a guided horseback tour of the island. The stables provide a—”

“No, thank you,” Celia interrupted, trying to speak firmly without actually being rude. She was growing increasingly irritated by the staff’s efforts to keep her occupied. She didn’t like feeling as though her actions were being monitored, her choices limited. “It’s very nice of you to offer, but I have other plans for today.”

“But, Miss Carson, we—”

“Celia.” A familiar deep voice overrode Mindi’s squeak of protest. A large, warm hand fell on Celia’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m late. Must have overslept. Are you ready for breakfast?”

Celia loo

ked up gratefully, meeting Reed’s sympathetic smile. “Yes, I’m starving,” she said fervently.

He nodded to the openmouthed social director. “Good morning, Miss Kellogg. Nice day, isn’t it?”

He left her sputtering an answer as he all but towed Celia toward the restaurant.

“You looked as though you were in need of rescue,” he said before Celia could speak, as soon as they were out of the social director’s hearing. “What was she trying to do, sign you up for a talent show or something? A bungee jumping tournament?”

“No, she wanted to introduce me to endangered sea turtles or take me shopping in Mexico,” Celia corrected ruefully. “I’m sure both would be interesting, but—”

“But not with Mindi standing on the sidelines cheering you on, right?”

“She is a bit cheerleaderish. I’m sure she means well, though,” Celia added quickly, feeling guilty for making fun of the other woman.

“Too perky for my tastes,” Reed said with a shake of his dark head. “All that bubbly energy and enthusiasm makes my teeth hurt.”

Celia giggled. “I was trying to be nice,” she reproved him.

He shrugged. “I’d rather eat. Are you really starving, or was that just an excuse?”

“No, I’m really hungry. I was just on my way to breakfast.”