Every Breath You Take (Second Opportunities 4)

When he didn’t reply, Kate turned around and looked inquiringly at him.

is an extremely expensive shirt,” he said gravely, but with the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth. I were you, I’d offer to take me to dinner instead.”

Startled laughter welled up inside Kate, pushing past the aching misery she’d felt for nearly two weeks. shirt is that expensive?”

He nodded with sham regret. ’m afraid so. Taking me to dinner would be the wisest choice for you financially, believe me.”

what I just did to you, you want to have dinner with me?” Kate said, finding that a little difficult to believe.

, but with only solid food around. No liquids within your reach.”

Unable to keep a straight face, Kate bent her head, her shoulders shaking with mirth at his dire tone.

’ll take that to mean you’re prepared to discharge your debt—shall we say at eight o’clock tonight?” Mitchell said smoothly, wishing he could see her expression.

She hesitated a moment; then she nodded and finally lifted her face to his. Mitchell’s gaze dropped from her eyes to her entrancing smile, and his heart missed a beat. When she smiled, she had the most inviting, romantic mouth he’d ever seen.

’m Kate Donovan,” she said, her pretty mouth relaxing into a friendly smile as she held out her hand.

She had a nice handshake, Mitchell decided as her long fingers slid across his palm and grasped his hand. Wyatt,” he replied.

Kate’s mind switched to practicalities. Evan had made advance reservations for the two of them to dine that night at Voyages, the hotel’s beautiful all-glass restaurant at the water’s edge. ’s meet at Voyages at eight o’clock,” she said.

’s meet in front of the hotel, instead. I have another restaurant in mind.”

Vague uneasiness crept over Kate, but she was preoccupied with his ruined shirt; his handsome, tanned face; and a sudden awareness that everyone inside the restaurant was either watching them or listening to them. right,” she said, and gathered up her belongings. Rather than leave via the patio and walk past the teenagers’ table, Kate turned toward the exit behind her, which also enabled her to cut diagonally across the sand to the villa where she was staying. Halfway there, she glanced over her shoulder, and when she didn’t see a tall man behind her with a large red splotch on his shirt, she realized he’d left the restaurant via the front entrance. Guiltily she wondered what sort of hilarity he’d had to endure from the teenagers on the patio when he passed by them.

Chapter Five

STANDING IN FRONTof the bathroom mirror, wrapped in a white terry-cloth robe that the hotel provided, Kate finished taming her curly hair into soft waves, then switched off the blow-dryer and walked over to the closet to survey her choice of clothing. Most of the restaurants in Anguilla were casual, but a few were quite elegant, and she had no idea whether her dinner companion would be wearing jeans and a T-shirt, or a sport jacket and slacks.

Since he’d been wearing a white shirt, slacks, and loafers at lunch, it seemed likely he’d be dressed at least that well for dinner, and possibly more so. Based on that, Kate chose a pair of silk pants with a hazy version of Monet’sWater Lilies on a pale blue background, a matching top with a wide off-the-shoulder neckline, and a pale blue satin sash; then she hesitated, hanger in hand.

Rather than try to second-guess him and end up making the wrong choice, she put the clothes back into the closet and walked over to the phone on the desk in the living room. A balmy breeze drifted in from the gardens through the open terrace doors as she pressed the button for the hotel operator and asked to be connected with Mitchell Wyatt’s room.

’m sorry,” the young man said after a pause, Mr. Wyatt isn’t staying with us.”

’re certain he isn’t registered here?” Kate asked.

, very certain.”

The vague uneasiness Kate had experienced earlier when he said he had restaurant in mind” sharpened into alarm as she hung up the telephone. Gazing blindly at theHotel Services notebook lying beside the desk phone, she reviewed the facts: She’d met a man in a hotel—a stranger about whom she knew absolutely nothing—and she’d agreed to get into a car and go somewhere with him. The man was extremely handsome, flawlessly charming, and very glib—the perfect combination for a gigolo who hung around expensive hotels, hoping to pick up wealthy women.

Or, he could be much worse than a gigolo. He could be a rapist. He could be a murderer—a serial murderer who moved from island to island, butchering his victims and burying their bodies in the sand.

Unnerved by her thoughts, Kate wandered outside onto the terrace; then she stifled a nervous gasp as a large canine head suddenly reared up from the bushes on the edge of the terrace. scared me, Max!” she said. The dog flinched at her accusatory tone, and Kate instantly switched to a soft, reassuring one. didn’t really scare me. I was already scared, because I may have agreed to have dinner with Jeffrey Dahmer or Jack the Ripper.”

The dog looked over his shoulder as if to be certain no one was watching; then he moved around the bushes and hesitantly put one paw onto the terrace. Just one paw, Kate noticed, not two. don’t have any more food to give you,” she told him, gesturing to the empty table beside her. , there’s nothing here.”

He put his second paw onto the terrace, still hesitant, but looking at her intently as if he wanted something from her. Stepping forward, she laid her hand on his head. don’t have anything for you,” she repeated, but his tail wagged as soon as she touched him. this what you want?” she asked in surprise, and tentatively stroked her hand from the crown of his head down his neck. In response, he pressed the side of his head against her leg.

On her third stroke, he leaned the full weight of his body against her.

On her fourth stroke, he closed his eyes in quiet pleasure.

’m lonely, too, Max,” Kate whispered. In the aftermath of her father’s death her emotions were so raw that just the realization that this dog was also lonely brought tears of empathy to her eyes. Trying to concentrate on something else, she thought about the possible ramifications of her reckless decision to have dinner with a stranger that night, and stroked Max’s head. When she finally glanced at her watch, it was fifteen minutes to eight. have to go now,” she said, giving the canine’s head a quick pat before moving away from him. “Tell you what,” she added, trying to sound cheerful for his sake, I get back here alive and unharmed tonight, we’ll have breakfast together in the morning, and I’ll order you an entire, all-meat breakfast of your very own. How does that sound?”