“I’m only here for a few days.”
Shoving away those inappropriate memories, she locked her knees and met his sapphire stare. “Oh?” She tried for a blasé tone but grimaced when it only sounded breathless.
“My dad died.”
“Oh.” Her façade wilted, instantly replaced with concern. Ward Montgomery passed away? This was the first she’d heard. “I’m so sorry.”
He bent down and picked up her résumé. The mature cut of his hair gave him an air of sophistication, a direct contrast to the bristle of his five o’clock shadow.
We could have made the prettiest babies… No. Her mind could not go there!
“You dropped this.” He glanced at her résumé and she suffered a pinch of inadequacy.
He’d obviously moved on from their little town and found great success. Meanwhile, she was bragging about her time at the community college and experience working at their family’s café.
“You’re here for an interview?”
She snatched the resume from his hand and tucked it back inside the folder. “Yes,” she answered sharply, her spine stiff and posture defensive.
Half of his mouth curled into a smirk. Was he judging her? He had some nerve.
“And I’m late. It was nice seeing you.” Blowing him off, she crossed the foyer to the reception desk where the young man watched her with wide eyes.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
Ma’am? She winced, still feeling like quite the foolish kid despite her age. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m here to see Mr. King.”
The desk clerk flushed and his gaze dropped to her blouse. He cleared his throat. “Your um...”
She frowned and glanced at her chest. “Shit.” Shoving her purse and résumé on the counter she quickly fastened the buttons that had come loose, wincing as she realized Harrison had also seen her bra. Perfect.
“Are you sure I can’t get you some ice?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.” Stuffing down too many uncomfortable emotions boiling under the surface, she slung her purse over her shoulder and collected her résumé, holding it like a shield across her chest. In the reflection of the mirror behind the reception desk, she spotted Harrison still watching her. “I have an interview with the hotel owner.”
“Of course.” The clerk lifted the phone to his ear and pressed a button. “Your name?”
“Mariella Mosconi.”
She waited, head angled down, but her stare watching the mirror through her lashes. Why was he still there, lingering? Didn’t he have somewhere to be?
Harrison proved long ago that he could vanish faster than Houdini. Now would be a perfect time for him to do just that.
The desk clerk spoke softly and set the phone back in its cradle. “Mr. King will be right out.”
“Thank you.”
She felt Harrison approaching before confirming his nearness with her eyes. Every baby hair on the back of her neck tingled with awareness as her spine tightened and her lungs lost their depth. Shallow breaths added to her unsteadiness.
A large hand—no ring—slid a crisp black business card on the granite counter in front of her, but he didn’t stop there. Her breath hitched as the warmth of his body burned through her coat. He stood so close, his clothing caressed hers, the soft brush of fabric whispering erotic memories into her mind.
His presence was so potent she felt his nearness shiver over every inch of her skin.
“I’m in room two-ten.” His words were low and discrete, close enough to her ear that his warm breath teased over the sensitive flesh of her throat. “Come see me after your interview. I’ll have something on ice. We can celebrate your new job or ice down those knees. Either way, we have some catching up to do.”
She shut her eyes and tried not to quiver at the tempting invitation. She wasn’t an impetuous teenager anymore, yet her response felt completely juvenile in the most delicious way. Men didn’t do this to her. They didn’t send jolts of awareness through her belly and leave her panties wet. Only Harrison did that.
It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want him to have such an effect on her after so many years and after he’d so completely broken her heart.
Long fingers, with nails bitten down to the quick, slid the card closer. Not a business card, but a room card. She couldn’t determine if arrogance or an overdue apology motivated him.
She had so many questions. He never even bothered to clean out his locker before he left. He deserted his team, his friends, his entire town without offering a single explanation. But most of all, he abandoned her.
Where had he gone? What had he done for the last ten years? Did he have a wife? A family?
Her heart pinched at the thought.
She stared at the room key, part of her wanting to fling it at him and tell him to go to hell, but her hand covered the card before he could take it away. Even if it was a tawdry proposition, she wanted time to consider what she wanted, and right now, with him standing so close, she could hardly think or spell her name.