it a try.”
translated, I told him that he’s an old letch, and what he said was a total crock.”
Kate laughed, but she wasn’t buying it. ’s not what you said.”
Mitchell bent his head and whispered against her cheek, told him to get his own girl because I wasn’t going to share mine with him”; then he straightened, and continued walking as if having his lips on her cheek had been the farthest thing from his mind.
Kate’s heart did a somersault at hearing Mitchell refer to her as his ,” but she knew it was just a figure of speech, and she tried not to think it meant anything else. She had a wonderful time for the rest of the evening, even though she lost half her winnings.
Mitchell gambled with the same effortless competence with which he did everything else, but what particularly fascinated Kate was his reaction to several women who made frank visual overtures to him during the evening: He had no reaction; he simply acted as if the women were invisible. Either he was so accustomed to it that he didn’t notice, or else he didn’t enjoy being looked at like a delicious sexual feast. Kate preferred to think the latter was true.
Shortly after midnight, when they’d finished gambling, they stopped in an intimate little lounge on the first floor of the casino, where a small band was accompanying a male singer. They found an empty table, and while the singer launched into the familiar lyrics of Way You Look Tonight,” Kate watched Mitchell sit down, unbutton his jacket, lean back in his chair, and casually stretch his long legs out. That picture of him—relaxed, handsome, and utterly at ease in an exclusive private casino—imprinted itself on Kate’s heart while the words to the song entwined around his image, framing it. Trying to hide her admiring smile, she put her elbows on the table and leaned her chin downward on her folded hands, watching him from beneath her lashes.
A moment later, he evidently felt a waiter should have already arrived, so he lifted his head an inch and glanced to his right with the merest trace of a frown. Two waiters materialized from opposite directions, almost colliding with each other in their haste to answer his summons, and Kate swallowed a laugh. In her father’s restaurant she’d observed all the known signals used by male customers to attract the attention of waiters—from the most boorish signals to the most timid—and she silently gave Mitchell the highest score possible, both for employed” and “effectiveness of style.”
does cognac sound?” he asked while the waiter stood beside him.
, thank you,” Kate said, knowing she’d have only a sip. Still amused by her observations, she turned her head, watching the singer, a smile hovering at her lips.
Mitchell ordered their drinks and then mistook the reason for her smile. you especially fond of that song?”
Kate nodded.
particular reason?”
Since she couldn’t explain her current reason, Kate lowered her eyes and gave him a different one that was equally true. I was thirteen, Michael Bublé and his grandfather were visiting Chicago and, purely by chance, they had dinner in our restaurant. Michael’s grandfather happened to mention to my father—very proudly—that Michael was about to launch his singing career in Canada, so my father offered to let Michael make his ‘United States debut’ in our bar. Michael was only sixteen at the time, but he was so amazing that my father brought me downstairs from the apartment to listen to him.”
?” Mitchell prompted when she looked slightly embarrassed.
Michael sang the song we’re listening to now. Actually, he sang it to me.”
I be jealous?”
course,” Kate joked with a winsome smile. fell madly in love with him right then and there. The next time I saw him sing,” Kate finished, was at Carnegie Hall.”
Feeling a little foolish because she’d told him yet another story about her life when she still knew virtually nothing about his, Kate glanced down at the table and realized Mitchell’s hand was resting beside hers, less than an inch away. The sight of his long fingers lying so close to hers enthralled her. Telling herself that she was being na and foolish, she finally pulled her gaze away.
Mitchell’s head was bent, his gaze fixed intently on their hands, just as hers had been. Slowly, he lifted his hand, and then he laid it over hers.
Kate felt a thrill run through her entire body. Swallowing, she watched to see if he had any noticeable reaction at all. He tightened his grip on her hand.
Chapter Twenty-one
SCANNING THE SURFACEof the water for a sign of Mitchell, Kate absently brushed sand off her legs and reached for one of the robes they’d brought from their room. The night was balmy, but she was beginning to shiver in her wet bathing suit, more from alarm than cold.
When they left the casino, Mitchell had offered to take her to Maho Bay so she could spend her winnings in one of the high-fashion boutiques that stayed open to cater to the nightclub and casino crowd. Kate had suggested they go back to the hotel and go swimming instead. In her mind she’d envisioned lazily floating in four feet of buoyant salt water for a half hour. They’d done that, but when Kate was ready to get out, Mitchell said he was going to swim a little longer for some exercise.
As she discovered as soon as he kicked off, when Mitchell swam for exercise he did it with ferocious force, driving his body through the water at maximum speed, as if demons were closing in on him. At first, Kate watched him in admiration, but a few minutes after she lost sight of him completely, she began to worry about his safety.
Trying not to let her concern escalate to panic, Kate continued to search the moonlit water as she shoved her arms into the sleeves of her robe and tied the belt. Finally, she made out a speck on the surface and sank onto a lounge chair, weak with relief.
Freed at last of her worry about Mitchell, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tipping her head back, she gazed at a black satin sky encrusted with shimmering stars while a profound sense of her father’s presence slowly swept over her. It wrapped around her, warm and strong, enfolding her in sweetness, as if it were a hug—a fierce celestial hug. Kate reveled in the sensation, clinging to it while tears stung her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
Finally she reached up to brush them away and glanced at the water to check on Mitchell. He was swimming in a straight line directly toward her, his shoulders and arms visible above the surface.
And in that moment, she suddenly understood. She understood it all, just as surely as if her father were sitting next to her on the chaise longue watching Mitchell, too, and smiling.