Page 13 of Bride Under Contract

‘Of course not.’

‘Do you want a drink?’ he offered. ‘I’m going to find some wine.’

‘I’d love one—though I doubt you’ll have much luck. I think there’s only beer.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

As he sauntered off she briefly closed her eyes, warning herself not to read too much into him joining her. It wasn’t as if he could be spoiled for company! She had to somehow ignore just how gorgeous he was and her almost violent attraction to him.

She took a deep breath, deciding to examine this moment later.

This moment when her heart felt like a trapped butterfly in her throat.

This moment when she was still fighting the surge of adrenaline that had made her want to leap from her seat the second she saw him—like some overgrown puppy.

She opened her eyes to the sight of him returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He gave a slow smile of triumph as he held up the bottle, and it felt as if she was the only woman here.

Well, she was the only woman sitting alone here, Grace reminded herself.

Yet somehow, holding her in his gaze, he made her feel a little as if she was the only woman in the world.

Oh, yes, it would be far wiser to dwell on his impact later. These feelings he evoked were unfamiliar.

Tantalisingly so...

Carter pulled out the cushioned chair opposite Grace, ensuring a clear view of his target—the group of men in the dining area didn’t look like regular tourists.

‘I feel at a bit of a disadvantage,’ Grace admitted as he sat.

‘How so?’

‘Well, you saw my passport, so you know my name, my age, where I’m from...’

‘Ah, but I have a terrible memory,’ he teasingly lied. Then, while opening the bottle, told her all he had gleaned. ‘Grace Andrews, twenty-five, born in London, though I didn’t get your date of birth.’

She laughed lightly, though her green eyes waited and if he wanted to observe these men, then he’d have to give up more.

‘Carter,’ he offered, ‘Carter Bennett.’ He briefly glanced over to the group as he poured the wine. He was excellent at mining information and decided to utilise that skill now. ‘God, they’re loud,’ he commented, leading the conversation back to where she’d left it a short while ago. ‘Usually everyone’s in bed by now, or winding down—they seem to be just getting started...’

‘Mmm...’ She shrugged creamy shoulders, then, rather than elaborating on the group, asked about him. ‘You didn’t say how old you were.’

‘Thirty-five.’ He chose to be more direct. ‘So, who are they?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ She shook her head. ‘Randy, one of the guys in our group, heard them discussing building an airstrip. He thinks they might be developers, or something.’

Carter at first made no comment, but he was rather sure he knew who they were now—they weren’t developers, they were television or movie executives wanting easier access to the residence and land. He needed to observe them some more to be certain. While inviting a tourist to regale their adventures was something he’d usually avoid, he was rather brilliant at feigning interest when it was to his advantage. ‘How are you enjoying your trip...?’ he enquired politely.

‘Very much.’ She nodded. ‘It’s gone by too fast...just a couple more days here...’

‘Then what?’

‘I still haven’t made up my mind,’ Grace told him as, rather than sliding it across the table, Carter handed her a drink.

Grace took it a little tentatively, hoping her hands weren’t too slippery from a mixture of both the humidity and her own jangled nerves, but he held the glass securely until she had a firm hold.

It was the tiniest thing, really, but she was grateful that he at least was entirely in control. Or perhaps it was just that the brief touch of their fingers and fleeting contact hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

Of course not.

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