“The psychologist in you,” he muttered. “I respect that even if it makes my life more difficult. This isn’t about me.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it should be.”
“Stalemate, sweetheart.” Rising from the chair, he reversed positions and slid it under the table before starting across the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
He turned. “I made this my first stop. I have to find a hotel.”
“You mean you don’t have a reservation?” she asked warily.
“Not yet. This assignment came up at the last minute.”
“I’ll just bet it did.” She forced a grin. “Good luck.” And he’d need it. A sunny weekend at the Hamptons. Just where did the man think he was going to find a hotel with a vacancy? Or a motel? Or even a rat-trap dive?
Carly swallowed a rising tide of anxiety. Maybe he’d get lucky. He’d better... or she’d find herself in deeper trouble than she’d ever imagined.
* * *
Hours later, Carly sat on the deck watching dusk fall. Dark clouds had rolled in over the horizon and thunder rumbled in the distance. She curled up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, letting the beauty and anger of nature rise around her. Despite the pending storm, she felt a measure of peace. By this time, Mike had to have found a room or he’d have returned. Though she knew he wouldn’t make himself scarce for however long he planned to stay, at least she still had a measure of time to herself.
A cool breeze slid over her skin as the wind picked up in intensity. She shut her eyes and sighed with contentment. This trip away from home and her problems had been the perfect solution. Surely here she’d find the missing pieces in her life, the reasons she’d nearly married a man she knew she didn’t love. The reasons she’d turned a blind eye to what she now viewed as his obvious betrayal. And the reasons she was so drawn to Mike, the antithesis of everything she’d ever believed she wanted in a man.
A lone drop of rain fell onto her arm. She wouldn’t be able to sit here much longer. The storm would drive her in.
“I should have known stupidity ran in my family.”
Carly opened her eyes. Mike stood before her, frustration evident in both his voice and the aggravation marring his expression.
“Not a hotel room to be found?” she asked in a sugary sweet voice.
“You knew.”
She sighed. “Let’s just say I figured.”
“And I should have, too.” He glanced at the sky. “Want to go in?”
A fine mist had begun to rain down, but Carly wasn’t ready to head inside yet. Not when it meant she’d be enclosed in the small, cozy house with Mike.
She shook her head. “The drive back shouldn’t be too bad. It’s against traffic.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No can do. I told you, I’m here to work.”
“So you plan to stay where? In your car?” She fingered her bangs. They weren’t soaking wet, but they were on their way.
“I’ll make do.” He studied her with those mesmerizing eyes until she felt he could read her mind and decipher her heart’s desire. No, she didn’t want him in her house. No, she didn’t want him sleeping in the next room. How could she, when she’d proven she couldn’t trust herself around him? Couldn’t trust the wanton person she became?
“Make do how?” she asked.
Mike didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure where he was headed. But no way could he stay and torture her any more than she was torturing herself. He hadn’t thought beyond renting a car and driving out to find her. Roger hadn’t mentioned the booked hotel rooms. If Mike had been thinking, he would have realized it himself. But that was the problem. With Carly occupying his mind, other thoughts didn’t exist.
He reached out and grabbed for her hand. “You take care of yourself, okay?” He squeezed once and let go, then made for the steps leading to the beach.
“Mike, wait.”
He turned. “What?”