His movements were stiff when he turned from Marc, left the hotel suite, and took the stairs instead of the elevator to the lobby. It wasn’t enough to ease the rage growing inside him.
Ric wanted to hit something, pound it until it didn’t exist anymore. He was a fool. The humiliation rose like bile in the back of his throat.
Nothing had ever pissed him off more. Ric had banked on sealing the deal based on letters with Samantha. His grandfather was right: Ric didn’t get family.
He ignored Melinda’s singsong voice when she cal ed out his name. The bright midmorning sunshine annoyed the hel out of him for the first time since he’d moved here. The only thing worse than dealing with an idiot was behaving like one.
“Ricardo! Wait!”
Ric spun around before reaching his truck, the anger on his face apparent enough that the young lady he’d damn near drooled over in the hotel suite slid to a stop. She looked at him, her face flushed, while her unique hair color captured the rays of the sun and added to her radiance.
The smal est amount of sanity crawled back into his brain. “It’s Ric, and what?” he demanded.
“Samantha told me you would be one of the appointments.”
“I’m flattered I’m not the only appointment she blew off.”
She wasn’t very tal . He could see her crooked part and how strands that were different shades were pul ed back, crossing over each other and confined in her hair clasp. Her skin was creamy white, not tanned like most women he knew. Her sleeveless blouse was silk, her skirt probably also pricey. It was a bit odd that she was chasing him down instead of sending the skinny, obnoxious man to do it for her. He wondered how she was related to Samantha Winston.
Or maybe they weren’t related. Possibly this pretty young thing was Samantha’s employee. She just indicated she knew the old lady’s schedule. Her bright, beautiful eyes looked up at him with interest and curiosity. But how much curiosity? She had the edge on him. She would know if they were related since she’d overheard him tel Marc Waters he was Samantha Winston’s grandson. Ric stared into her blue eyes, accentuated with a golden brown shade of eye makeup. Eyeliner drew attention to her eyes,
making them look larger. She wore a lot of makeup for an employee, but didn’t behave like a rich girl raised with servants at her beck and cal .
“My name is Jenny, Jenny Rogers.” She stuck her hand out, her arm straight, and waited for him to take it. “You’re Ricardo Karaka, or Ric. I overheard you when you first came into the room and spoke with Marc.”
“And how are you related to Samantha?” he asked, wrapping his long fingers around her smal , warm hand.
“I’m not.” Her mouth was open to say more, but she didn’t.
Ric held her hand in his and brushed his thumb over her wrist. Her heartbeat trembled under his touch, beating rapidly when he held her hand a moment longer than he normal y would when shaking a stranger’s hand. She wasn’t nervous, at least not to the point where her palm would be damp. He made her cautious, though.
“Why did you come after me?” he asked, keeping his voice low. He didn’t see Joe at the moment, but if Ric was spotted carrying on a conversation with a hot lady no one knew, it would take moments to hit the island grapevine.
When he released her hand, Jenny clasped her fingers together. Maybe she was nervous. He was usual y dead-on when deciphering the mood of another person. Something about this sexy lady, with her many different shades of auburn hair, was harder to reach. It was as if she were one person on the surface and an entirely different person deep down inside.
“Can we speak inside? Possibly in the lobby?” Jenny gestured with her hand.
He cocked his head, imagining what she might want to discuss with him. “What’s wrong with right here?”
Jenny glanced at the ground, then shot furtive looks at the surrounding parked cars. His truck was just a couple cars away. Colby must have been content with her bone because she hadn’t spotted him and started howling. Ric kept his gaze focused on Jenny’s when she finished her scan of their surroundings and returned her attention to him.
“I’m supposed to attend al of the meetings and functions Samantha was going to attend while she was here,” she said, then paused, staring at him.
“Okay . . .” he said slowly. How the hel was she supposed to stand in for a man meeting his grandmother for the first time?
She wrinkled her nose when she tilted her head, as if she didn’t understand his response. Since he simply accepted what she’d just told him, he didn’t see any reason to elaborate. And he didn’t mind just staring at her. Jenny Rogers was easily one of the sexiest women he’d ever laid eyes on. He wondered if her rather vanil a outfit was her natural attire or if she dressed differently when not under the charge of the Winston entourage.
“What I mean is I’m seeing appointments, then reporting back to her.”
“What do you report to her?”
“My impressions mainly. That seems to be al she wants.”
“I’m to be interviewed before I am al owed to meet my grandmother?”
“You’re on her appointment list. If she was supposed to meet you, I guess you get me instead.” Jenny glanced up at him and gave him a smal smile. She looked down at her hands before he could hold on to her gaze. Was she blushing over the double meaning that could be read into her words? Was she real y that innocent? She was stil hot as hel with an interesting accent. He’d guess Minnesota, but it wasn’t strong the way some in that region spoke. He liked the way it sounded, though.
Hel , he was even attracted to her modest attire. The straight-cut gray skirt she wore ended just above her knees, and her sleeveless blouse was tucked into her skirt and showed off her slender waist. Her hips weren’t too round, but she didn’t appear too skinny either. Her creamy white skin wasn’t pale, just natural looking.