Her lips part invitingly, and I’m sorely tempted to take her back to bed, but I have urgent work to do, people waiting on the other end of phone lines.
“I have to get to work now,” I tell her with regret. “I have a phone call with my lawyer and some proposals to look over before I visit the property.”
“Oh…” She hides her disappointment. “All right.”
I give her the number for the caretaker in case she wants anything then spend the morning out on the deck with my laptop and phone.
After a few hours, I’m done with the last of my phone calls. I find Rachel on the front porch, working. Of course she’d bring her work along. She’s not the type to wait around, idle.
She looks up to see me watching her and raises her arms in a delicate stretch. “Hey.”
My eyes follow her movements. “How’s it going?”
“So-so.”
“I’m about to leave,” I tell her. “Why don’t you come with me so you can tell me what you think?”
“Me?” She makes a face. “I’m not a real estate analyzer.”
I chuckle. “You don’t have to be.” I want her to come with me, and not just because I’d rather have her by my side than alone here. “I’d like to know what you think.”
She looks unconvinced. “If you insist. What is it, anyway?”
“An old ocean-front hotel. It has historical value and, I suppose, sentimental value to the owners. They proposed a partnership.”
She frowns. “But you own your properties outright, don’t you?”
I nod. “Usually, yes.”
“So, are you going to partner with them?”
“That’s what I’m going to decide today. If I’m going to pour money into the place, I want to be sure it has a chance, and that it’s going to be run like any other Swanson Court establishment.”
She considers it. “When are we leaving?”
My eyes drop to her robe. “I was going to take a shower, and I wondered if you would join me.”
“Oh, well…” She sighs theatrically, making me laugh. “If you insist.”
We make love in the shower. After, I dress her, zipping up her dress and getting on my knees to slide her feet into her sandals. She returns the favor by buttoning up my shirt and tucking it into my pants.
It’s silly and beautiful and intimate.
I watch her brush her hair, satisfied just to look at her. “You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes meet mine and she smiles. “Thank you.”
Crossing the room, I go to take her hand. My chest is full of so many things I feel, and I wish I had the words to explain. “We’d better go,” I say instead.
In the garage, Alex’s Maserati is waiting. I can’t help grinning when I see it. Alex loves that car more than his own life, which gives me a double amount of pleasure to be driving it.
“What?” Rachel is looking at me, curious.
“Alex—the guy who owns this place—he thinks the world of this car. He’s probably having a heart attack at the thought of anybody else driving it.”
“Then why did he agree to let you?”
I give her a teasing smirk. “Because I can be persuasive.”