She smiled, then looked away, distracted by another boat passing them as it entered the marina. She waved to those onboard, and they waved back. But once the boat was past them, she again got the feeling that Drex Easton was studying her, and when she turned back to him, she caught him at it. “What?”
He pointed toward her empty glass. “You passed on a refill of Champagne. Can I go below and get you something else?”
“You shouldn’t be waiting on me. You’re the guest.”
“But you didn’t invite me. Jasper did. You probably would have preferred not having to entertain today. You got in late last night.”
She tilted her head inquisitively.
“I heard your car when you pulled into the driveway.”
“I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t. I wasn’t asleep. I haven’t slept through the night since I moved in.”
“A new place takes some getting used to. Give it a few more nights.”
“I don’t think a few more nights are going to improve the lumpy mattress. The fan Jasper loaned me helped with the heat.”
“He lent you a fan?”
“His generosity knows no bounds.”
She smiled. Then, to her chagrin, she yawned. “Forgive me. The truth is, I didn’t get a full night’s sleep, either, and the Champagne has made me drowsy.”
“Then I’ll shut up and let you doze. Or would you rather I leave you in peace and…relocate?”
When he smiled in a certain way, an attractive dimple appeared in his right cheek behind the piratical scruff. She figured he knew that dimple was attractive and doubted he would relocate if she took him up on his offer.
“You may stay,” she said.
“Ah, good. I’m drowsy, too. And after two days of moving in, it feels good to sit and do nothing.” He slouched deeper into his chair, pulled the brim of his cap down to the top of his sunglasses, and linked his fingers over his lap. No rings. A sizeable but unadorned wristwatch with a black leather band.
His hands were large and long-fingered, with plump veins crisscrossing the backs of them. His sleeves were rolled up to midway between wrist bone and elbow. Even though he appeared relaxed, she sensed tensile strength in his limbs.
She looked away and followed a solitary cloud drifting between them and the horizon. A minute passed. He didn’t move. The silence between them began to feel ponderous. She searched for something to say. “Drex is an unusual name.”
He flinched and sat up straighter. “Sorry? I was about to nod off.”
“No you weren’t.”
The moment the words were out, she wished she could call them back. Too late now, however. Above his sunglasses, one of his eyebrows arched to form a question mark.
With a trace of challenge in her tone, she said, “You were staring at me. I could see your eyes through your sunglasses.”
He thumped the arm of his chair with his fist. “Damn! Busted.” He shot her that smile again. “I was staring at you.”
“Why?”
“Welllll, if I told the absolute, swear-on-the-Bible truth, Jasper would probably sew me up in a tow sack and pitch me overboard.”
Talia couldn’t help it. She laughed. He was a shameless flirt, and, since he made no secret of it, it was harmless. “Like the Count of Monte Cristo.”
“My favorite book,” he said.
“Oh? Why?”
He thought about it for a moment. “He was committed.”
“To getting revenge.”
He bobbed his chin. “He let nothing stop him, not even imprisonment. He was patient. He did his homework. He pulled off the best undercover guise ever. Got his man.” He paused and then grinned wickedly. “And woman.”
“His enemy’s wife.”
He sat up straight and leaned forward with his forearms crossed on the tabletop. “I called Jasper a lucky bastard when I mistook Elaine for his wife.”
“You no longer think he’s lucky?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Then, “I think he won the Powerball. Twice. At least.”
The dimple had disappeared, and so had the mischievous smile. Of a sudden, the flirting didn’t seem quite so harmless.
Chapter 4
Elaine chose that moment to open the wheelhouse door and poke her head out. “Hold onto your hats and watch to see that those flutes don’t slide off the table. We’ve cleared the marina, and Jasper’s about to give it the throttle.” She ducked back inside. The yacht gathered speed and moved out into open water.
Elaine had interrupted an uncomfortable moment. But Talia thought perhaps she had imagined the intensity in Drex’s tone, because now his teasing grin was back.
“Why was I staring at you? I was contemplating. Here I am a wordsmith, but I’ll be damned if I can think of an adjective that accurately captures the color of your hair. When I saw you coming up the stairs, I thought ‘russet.’”
“Adequate.”
“Adequate but lacking nuance.”
“You need nuance?”
“Yes. Because when you got in the sunlight, I saw that your hair is shot through with strands of gold and copper. So what word would I use to describe it?”
“Why would you need a word? Why would you be describing me? Unless you’re planning to use me as a character in your book.”
“Oh, God no! I think far too highly of you to do that.”
Her laughter was followed by a comfortable silence as they stared out across the chop. He resumed the conversation by asking what had taken her to Chicago.
“I went to assess a hotel.” Reading his puzzled expression, she smiled. “It’s a prototype. New concept. Very minimalist. I tried it on for size.”
“What for?”
“It’s a long story.”
He spread his arms. “I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“Okay, but remember you asked.”
“Fire at will.”
“I was trying out the hotel for my clientele.”
“Clientele?”
“My parents had a travel agency. I started working in the office when I was in high school. When I graduated college, I was made manager, and they semi-retired. Then Dad died, followed by my mother a year and a half later. I was their only child and heir. Shafer Travel, Inc., became mine.”
“That sounded like the expurgated version. Go on.”
“Well, I expanded the business, first by opening an office in Savannah, and then another in Birmingham. Those did well. I paid off the business loan that got those up and running, then took out another loan to open two more offices, one in Dallas, the other in Charlotte.”
“Wow,” he said. “This at a time when most people started booking everything travel-related online.”
“Most people, yes. But when even the best travel agencies began cutting back on personnel and services offered, a market was created for white glove service. My agencies responded, and began catering to clients who didn’t need to, or wish to, shop online for the cheapest airfare or haggle over a room rate.”
“You stopped booking bus tours to see fall foliage?”
“And started booking private jets to see the seven wonders of the world. Word spread about our specialized service.”