Page 39 of Booked for Summer

‘Of course. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of the eagerly anticipated luxury holiday cottages that Nantucket is absolutely crying out for.’

He gave her a level look as he passed a book display.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You know I’m going to give you a hard time about this. Just like I know the reason you’re really here is to remind me I’m wasting my time trying to promote the store. Why else would you, Mr Haven Resort himself, come here in person to tell me something you could have emailed or sent a minion to inform me?’

* * *

Yeah, Haven, what other reason could you possibly have for coming to the book shack twice in three days?

‘I might have comein personbecause I’m aware I wasn’t upfront with you before, and I want to make amends.’ It was partly the truth, and saved him having to admit he’d spent the morning fighting a compulsion to see her. And finally given up.

Silence followed his words and he turned to find her staring at him. ‘Okay, maybe I can believe that. But as I need to hate you for a bit longer, I’ll reserve judgment for now.’

He halted in his pacing– something he’d had to do to keep his mind occupied and prevent himself from blurting out that his revenge hadn’t felt as good because she’d been hurt in the crossfire. ‘Why do you need to hate me?’

‘You might be my boss, but I don’t have to answer every question you ask me, do I? Don’t you Americans have something about pleading the Fifth?’

A slow smile spread across his face as he watched her try to squirm from his question. ‘You need to hate me so you won’t be tempted to sleep with me again.’

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks reddened. ‘Even if I did get past hating you, and past the bit that you’re my boss?—’

‘Temporarily,’ he qualified. ‘It’s an important distinction.’

‘Whatever, I’ll still not get past being disappointed in myself for succumbing.’

‘Succumbing?’ Like he’d set out deliberately to lure her into his evil web. ‘This from the woman who said she was trying to seduce me?’

‘God, okay, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I succumbed to your stupid looks and limited charm.’

‘After that description, I can see why you did.’

She waved a frustrated hand at him. ‘Just… shut up, okay? I am officially immune to you.’ Her gaze swivelled towards the coffee table. ‘What do you think of my latest display?’

He trampled on the desire to grin and walked over to the… what the fuck?

She burst into laughter. ‘You should see the look on your face. It’s Murder Mystery Monday, remember?’

‘It looks more likeBloodyMonday,’ he countered, his terrible British accent pulling a reluctant smile from her.

‘I imagined what I wanted to do to you when I was putting it together.’

‘I see.’ He stared down at the grizzly assortment of items. ‘The rope is to…?’

‘Tie your hands behind your back.’

‘That’s a relief. I thought you were going to hang me.’

‘I figured that was too easy.’

He ignored the sting and picked up the black balaclava and leather gloves. ‘And these?’

‘The gloves are so I don’t get blood on my hands, obviously. The balaclava is for you, so I don’t have to look at you while I’m doing the deed.’

Curious, he picked up the plastic knife covered with red splashes of paint. ‘This is to cut off my head I presume?’

‘No, your balls.’

The parts in question shrivelled inside his boxers. ‘When I think of you holding my balls, it’s with something entirely different in mind.’

---