“Celia! I can’t tell you how glad I am to finally join you—or how sorry I am that I kept you waiting so long,” he said as he caught her hands in his and gave her a melting look. “Can you ever forgive me?”
She smiled and leaned forward to return his light kiss of greeting. “We’ve discussed this before, Damien. I don’t blame you for being called away. I understand completely.”
Waving the others off, he tucked Celia’s hand beneath his arm and led her in the direction of her suite. “Have you been completely bored, darling, or has my staff managed to entertain you during the past week?”
“Your staff has been wonderful,” she assured him. “I couldn’t have asked for more attentive, or more gracious service. Please be sure to thank them all for me.”
Damien’s eyes glinted with amusement. “A nice evasion of my question.”
She shook her head reprovingly. “I haven’t been bored. I’ve been doing some sightseeing. Actually, I’ve been spending time with one of the other guests who was vacationing alone. His name is Reed Hollander, from Cleveland. He’s a history buff—you wouldn’t believe how many battlefields and museums I’ve visited in the past few days.”
Celia spoke lightly and confidently. She had no intention of having Damien’s overly watchful staff tell him about the time she’d spent with Reed—as she suspected someone would. She hadn’t been sneaking around with Reed; and she’d be darned if she would allow anyone to make their brief time together seem so sordid.
Damien opened the door to her sitting room and gave her a searching look. “Reed Hollander, huh? Competition?” His tone was light, but she could tell he wasn’t pleased. The sudden glint in his eyes reminded her that Damien was known in some circles as an intimidatingly powerful man.
Her heart fluttered, but she answered easily. “Don’t be silly. Reed’s a friend. Just as you are,” she added as she entered her suite ahead of him. The huge bouquet he’d sent her still seemed to dominate the room. Celia avoided looking at it. The memories those flowers evoked were still too disturbing, too raw.
Damien gave an exaggerated sigh. “Can I help it if I continue to harbor hopes that you and I will soon become much more than friends?”
He really was gorgeous, Celia thought almost dispassionately. Charming, smooth, fun to spend time with. And if he tried to kiss her now, she’d probably hit him. She wished she understood why.
As though he’d read her thoughts, Damien patted her hand and released her. “I’ve brought you something,” he said, reaching into the inner pocket of his lightweight jacket.
She frowned warily at him. She’d made it clear from the first time they’d had dinner together that she would not accept expensive gifts from him. She’d wanted him to know that it wasn’t his money that interested her; she would have liked Damien even if he’d been penniless. He made her laugh. She’d never been bored with him. Those points, alone, would have guaranteed their friendship.
Her frown turned to a smile when she saw her gift. It was a small wood carving—no more than six inches high. A clever little palm tree appeared to be bent by a strong wind; a tiny man clung to the trunk of the tree with both hands, legs straight out behind him, a comical, wide-eyed look on his tiny face.
“I
t’s adorable,” Celia said, cupping the carving in her hands.
“My manager carved it. As soon as I saw it, I begged him to let me buy it for you.”
Celia was startled. “The manager who had both legs broken beneath a fallen tree?”
Damien nodded ruefully. “He carved this in his hospital room. He can’t stand being inactive for long.”
“He must have a wonderful sense of humor.”
“Some would say a sick sense of humor. That’s why I like the guy so much,” Damien admitted with a grin.
Celia laughed, greatly relieved that Damien hadn’t brought her the expensive gifts he was known to lavish upon his “lady friends”—for want of a better term.
“I’m going to make up for every day I haven’t been here with you,” Damien announced, almost rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “We’ll go snorkeling, horseback riding…have you been parasailing, yet?”
Celia tried to imagine Reed dangling from a parachute over the Gulf. Or herself, for that matter. She laughed. “No, Damien. I haven’t been parasailing. And to be honest, I’m not sure I want to try.”
“Nonsense. You’ll love it. I also happen to have two brand-new, top-of-the-line Jet Skis in my boathouse. We’ll take those out tomorrow morning. Do you like to fish? We can spend one day out on the boat. I’ll have the chef prepare a gourmet picnic for us. Last time I was out, I caught a trophy-size marlin. Of course, you can’t expect that every time, but…”
He continued in that vein for some time, eagerly describing all the wonderful things they would do together, all the fun they would have. Celia listened politely, nodding occasionally and trying to look as enthusiastic as he was about the sports he loved. She’d never tried most of them—tennis and swimming were the only sports she participated in regularly at home—but she’d wanted excitement and adventure, hadn’t she?
It looked as though she was about to find them.
Saying he was sure Celia was growing tired of the Alexander’s amenities, Damien took her to a different restaurant that evening, an exclusive French restaurant at the top of one of the other hotels. Apparently, Damien had a standing reservation, since he was warmly welcomed and escorted immediately to a very nice table.
Celia had dressed up again, this time in a little black dress she wore with a crystal-beaded silver jacket she’d borrowed from Rachel. It was an outfit Damien had seen before, but she hadn’t felt like wearing the slinky white number she’d worn for Reed only last night. She wasn’t sure she would be in the mood to wear that dress again for a very long time.
Damien was still planning their next few days together during dinner. “I will have to work a little, of course,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “A couple of meetings with potential investors, some paperwork for the insurance company. I’ll try to clear most of it away early to leave us the rest of the days free.”