"Yes."
"But you choose not to? Are you punishing yourself?"
She narrowed her gaze. "You don't know anything about me, Mitch."
"I know a little. I'd like to know more. You're divorced, you own and manage a motel virtually by yourself. You have two wonderful kids. Why don't you fill in the gaps for me?"
"There are no gaps. That's pretty much it."
"So why no social life?"
God, he was persistent. "I told you. I'm busy."
"So you're just not interested in men anymore? What did he do to you?"
That one cut a little too close. "I like men just fine. I'm just not interested in jumping on that merry-go-round again. It wasn't fun the first ride."
"Not all men are like your ex."
She sighed. "What did my kids tell you?"
"That he didn't like to spend any time with them, wasn't around much and when he was he liked to monopolize yours."
She stared down at her wine glass. "I really hate that man."
"I do, too. Your children are way too worldly for their age."
She lifted her gaze to his. "And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for a lot of things."
"Probably a lot of things that weren't your fault."
"I married him."
"Was he like that when you did?"
"No."
"Then you didn't do it." Mitch leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine. "So what changed him?"
"He had a high pressure job and he hung out with the wrong kind of people who introduced him to the wrong things."
"Like drugs."
She nodded. "He wasn't good at saying no. And he always liked to party. Every weekend. It was part of my attraction to him. He was so full of life and energy."
"That's an attractive quality."
"In the beginning, but not when you're ready to settle down and raise a family. I needed stability at a time when he was least stable. He couldn't handle the responsibility. Drugs and alcohol became his answer. He buckled under the pressure of a mortgage, kids, and the death of my father. I was always the strong one, and I fell apart when my dad died. He couldn't pick up the slack."
"Which meant as he weakened, you had to grow stronger."
"I don't know about that."
"I do. I don't know many women who could handle what you have, Greta. You've done a remarkable job."
How could he say that? She was barely making ends meet. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't feel like she'd failed her kids.
"Your children adore you."
"They're loyal, and protective."
"They love you. I see it on their faces. But they want more time with you."
Tears stung her eyes. She wasn't going to do this. Not now, not with Mitch. "I give them all I have."
He reached across the table and caressed her cheek. "You're an amazing woman."
She sucked in a breath, refusing to lose it. "Let's talk about something else."
"Okay."
The waiter came and cleared their plates, then brought dessert.
"More food? Are you kidding?"
"You have to try this."
"I can't. I'm so full now."
"Come on. Just a bite." He lifted his spoon and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth and he slid the chocolate decadence onto her tongue. The ice cream and raspberries burst with flavor on her taste buds.
"Oh, God, that's sinful."
He grinned. "Told you."
Emotional crisis averted, Greta polished off another glass of wine until she finally relaxed, letting all her tensions melt away with every glass of this marvelous liquid. She was surprised when she heard the strains of music from outside the tent.
"Is that a band out there?"
He shook his head. "Piped in through speakers on the building. I don't want my guests' privacy interrupted. Everything within the small compound here is secluded, away from the view of the other hotel guests."
"In case your clients who stay here want to strip off their clothes and go skinny dipping?"
He leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie, casting one very hot look in her direction. "Is that what you'd like to do?"
She couldn't believe she'd said that. "No. Of course not."
He stood and held out his hand. "Come on."
Her throat had gone dry. "What?"
"Stand up."
She did. "Mitch, I--"
He pulled her into his arms and her heart did a wild dance. She hadn't been this close to a man since Cody, and that experience hadn't been pleasant. And it had been a long, long time ago. No man had touched her since. She hadn't allowed it, hadn't wanted it.
Until now. She also hadn't opened up to anyone about her and Cody like she had with Mitch. There was something about him that allowed her to feel like she could.
And being with him...well, this was more than pleasant. It made her dizzy, her body coming alive at being so close to a man who looked incredible, smelled so good, wasn't stoned or drunk and smiled at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
So what was wrong with indulging in the fantasy just a little?
A lot was wrong with it. She was a realist. And Mitch was not the kind of guy she should have on her radar. She shouldn't have any man there.
"Mitch, I--" she said again, not knowing how to finish the sentence.
"Shhh, I just want to hold you in my arms and dance with you."
"Dance?"
"Yeah." He tilted his head. "Hear the music?"
She did. Soft, sexy R&B music filtered through the outside speakers. She used to love to dance. Another thing she hadn't done in a very long time.
"Allow yourself to have a good time, Greta. There's no crime in that."
He was right. She placed her hand in his. When he wound his arm around her back and tugged her against him, she realized it had been way too long since she'd been held by a man.
Or had anything else done to her by a man.
She vibrated all over at the thought.
Mitch had beautiful eyes. And his mouth--full lips, white straight teeth. She wanted to kiss him, to feel someone's lips on hers again, to know that exhilarating, heart pounding feeling of desire, to melt in someone's arms until you couldn't breathe.
And when something hard b
rushed against her hip, her gaze shot to his. He smiled down at her, and her head spun.
Too much wine.
Too much man.
She was in way over her head.
Chapter Six
Greta stood motionless, her feet rooted to the floor of the cabana. Mitch didn't seem to mind, just swayed back and forth, their bodies connected, not asking her for any more than she was willing to give.
Finally, she found her feet and followed him. He led her around the table. The cabana wasn't large, and between the table and chairs and the sofa--correction--bed that loomed in the corner, they had to stay close and dance in small steps. But still, it was magical. The music and the man who held her, the scent of salt breezing in from the ocean, the flicker of torches dancing along the edges of the sand outside, was all a sensual assault that overwhelmed her.
Part of her wanted to fight it, but another part of her realized that was stupid. Mitch was an attractive man, and she was a grown woman who'd had too little fun in her life. He'd offered her an amazing night. She'd be foolish to turn tail and run. He wasn't offering her forever, or even a relationship. As long as she kept her wits about her and realized he was trying to seduce the motel out from under her, she could accept the fun and keep the motel.
She knew exactly what Mitch was up to. But she could still enjoy being with him, without giving him everything he wanted.
"Let's take a walk."
He held her hand while she slipped off her shoes. He took off his jacket, his shoes and socks, rolled up his sleeves and pants legs, and they stepped out onto the sand. Mitch led her down to the water's edge where the breeze blew stronger, whipping her hair, salt stinging her skin and the waves teasing her toes.
She loved it. This was her home, the water as much a part of her as her own skin. The moon cast a silver glow over the dark water, lending its depths a mysterious quality that had always compelled her.
She stopped and turned to the sea. "I used to stand at the water's edge at night when I was a kid, and could swear all the mermaids and mermen came out in the dark when we couldn't see them."
Mitch slid his hand in hers. "I looked for ghostly pirate ships on foggy nights and imagined stowing away and sailing to the ends of the earth."
She laughed. "The endless dreams of children. How sad that we have to grow up and face reality."
He looked down at her. "Do we?"
"I hardly think there are mermaids or pirate ships out there."
"No, but there are new dreams to believe in. The problem with adults is that so many give up on having dreams."