Summer Escape with the Tycoon

He nodded. “I did. I didn’t have the distraction of a wonderful view.”

Discomfort slid through her. “I’m sorry?”

“My room is considerably smaller than yours, that’s all.”

She reached for the martini again—this could be a long evening. “It’s probably because I got a deluxe package.” She chanced a glance in his direction. “It’s really just a bucket-list kind of thing.”

He buttered another corner of his bread. “So what about this trip is on your bucket list?”

“Oh, well. Uh... Nothing? I mean, I don’t really have a bucket list.” Too late, she realized she’d contradicted herself, something she never did in her profession. Why was she so flustered?

Their salads were served and she picked up her fork. But Eric hesitated and she paused with her fork stuck in a piece of endive.

“What’s the matter?”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m just confused. If this is a bucket-list trip, but you don’t have a bucket list...”

Right. And the last thing she wanted to do was get into her motives and personal life. Instead she smiled. “Oh, that. Well, I’m a bit of a workaholic. I hadn’t really considered an actual bucket list, but I decided that I could do with some time off and something exciting. Trip of a lifetime, amazing experience, yada, yada.”

He nodded and the mood relaxed. “I get the workaholic thing. You’re a lawyer?”

“Yes, family law. Partner in the family firm. Dissolving marriages since 1982, when my dad started his own practice with a friend.”

“Oh.”

That was all he said, and the air seemed to cool around them. To her surprise, h

e then turned away and began talking to his neighbor on his left.

Maybe her first impression had been right after all. Rude and entitled. Maybe there’d been a moment of something that had flashed between them, but his snub just now had been real. Fine. She ate her salad and struck up a conversation with her neighbors, a husband and wife from northern Alberta who were involved in an oil-and-gas company. Their previous expedition had been walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain, and soon they had her laughing at some of their stories.

The duck was succulent and tasty; a glass of wine after the martini helped take the edge off her irritation with the man on her left. By the time dessert arrived, she was more than ready to head to bed and get a good night’s rest before tomorrow’s beginning of their trip.

She’d ordered the hotel’s signature cake, rich with hazelnut and cream, and promised herself she’d only take three bites and have a strong coffee. Eric had momentarily turned back, and when he saw the dark liquid in her cup, he gave it a side eye. Was it possible she’d been mistaken? The man beside her now didn’t hold any of the warmth and humor that she’d sensed in the mystery bidder back on Nantucket.

And why did she feel like tonight she’d been judged and had come up lacking in some way? Even her coffee got a sideways glance.

“It won’t keep me awake, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. Listen, I don’t know what I did or said to put you off, but maybe we should just agree we got off to a rough beginning and then stay out of each other’s way during the trip.”

“It’s your job.”

“Pardon?” She put down her fork.

He faced her. “It’s not you. I mean, this afternoon was embarrassing, and yes, I’m judging you on something superficial, but I just went through a major divorce. Let’s just say it was nasty and I lost a lot of money.”

“And you lost your wife, too, right?”

He gave her a cold look. “Don’t act like you care about that. Her lawyer certainly didn’t. It was all about the numbers, and putting a price tag on the six years we were married. Apparently I was such a horrible husband that she deserved five million a year in compensation.”

She knew that wasn’t how it worked, but that he was speaking from a place of bitterness. Moreover, he had to be loaded. Thirty million? He’d paid his ex-wife thirty million dollars?

“Your lawyer should have done better for you,” she said firmly, picking up her coffee cup. “Children?”

“None, thank God.” She sloshed some of her coffee and he shrugged. “Not that I dislike children. Quite the contrary. I’m just glad we didn’t have any to get caught up in a custody battle.”