cuddled in. “Like, for instance, when Donna—she owns the pottery shop on the outskirts of town—wanted to increase her number of parking spaces in front of her shop, I went to bat for her with the town council. After all, her shop is out of the way, it wouldn't infringe on anyone else's parking. Why not?”
“Okay …”
“But, when the Clearwater wanted the same deal, I had to tell them no. Because they're in the middle of town, lakeside, and we just couldn't afford to lose tourist parking slots to make more room for their customers. Different situations, different rules.”
“Ah,” he said, smiling at her, “but the situations in my hotels are all the same. Each one is a Barrister. So the rules should apply evenly.”
She nudged his shoulder and laughed shortly. “The hotels are all in different places. Different traditions, different employees.”
“But—”
“Would you decorate your Barbados hotel the same way you decorated the one in say, D.C.?”
“No …”
“So, same thing applies.” Leaning her head against his shoulder, she added, “Cut your managers a little slack, Nathan. Trust them to know their people and their hotels. Lighten up a little and you might be surprised by the results you get.”
He frowned thoughtfully and shifted his gaze to the screen of his laptop, where his carefully written-up notes were marked with bullet points. “You couldn't have made your point an hour ago? Before I started working on this stupid list?”
Keira laughed and Nathan took a heartbeat of time to simply enjoy the sound as it swirled around him. She was cuddled in close and he liked the feel of her pressed against him. He liked knowing she was sitting beside him reading quietly—or that she was in the kitchen making grilled cheese sandwiches—or tripping over a rug on her way down the hall.
He just liked knowing she was here. Outside, the storm was still blowing and Nathan was willing to admit, at least to himself, that if he had been here, trapped by himself, he would have been half crazy by now.
But having her here made for a different sort of crazy. Keira was becoming too much a part of his world. He hated knowing that he was beginning to count on hearing her move through the house. That he was looking forward to their next argument. That he wanted her even more now than he had the first time they were together.
Somehow, she was worming her way right into the heart of him. And Nathan wasn't sure how to keep her at a distance anymore. Or even if he wanted to. Which worried him more than a little.
He hadn't thought about anything but business for years. Now, his life was on hold and he was in a situation where the rules had all changed on him. He was in a place where there was too little work to do and too few distractions to keep him from having too much time to think. To wonder. To ask himself a few fundamental questions. Like what his life might have been like if he'd taken a different path.
He supposed most men wondered those things from time to time, but he never had. He'd never had any doubts about his life or how he lived it.
Until now.
Until Keira.
“What're you thinking?” she asked.
“No way,” he said. “I'm not playing that game again. I'm in no mood to get frostbite, thanks.”
Keira laughed, gave him a punch on the arm and said, “Fine, coward. Can I use your satellite phone?”
He turned and looked at her, curiosity taking small, annoying bites of him. “Who're you going to call? The lines are all down, remember?”
“My sister,” Keira said. “I know, it's really long distance, you know, to London and all. But I won't stay on long and I'll pay for the call.”
Something inside him eased back and he really didn't want to explore what that might mean. Instead, he rummaged through the briefcase beside him on the floor, came up with the phone and handed it over. “Talk as long as you want. My treat.”
“Wow. You'll do anything to get me to leave you alone, huh?”
The answer to that question should have been yes. Since he wasn't sure anymore if it was or not, he said nothing, just turned back to his computer and began to delete his well-thought-out letter.
Keira punched in her sister's number as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. While she waited for Kelly to pick up, she took a sip and leaned back against the kitchen counter.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Kel,” Keira said, pushing away from the counter and walking toward the bank of windows. Her gaze fixed on the storm still blowing like crazy out there, she listened to Kelly's excited yelp and settled in for a good talk.
“Where have you been?” Kelly demanded. “I've been trying to get you forever but the phone at home's out of order and, by the way, how are you calling me and whose phone is it? I didn't recognize the number.”
Keira laughed, took another sip of hot coffee and said, “Big storm blew in yesterday. Phone lines are down.”
“Then how—”
“It's a satellite phone,” Keira said quickly. “Nathan let me borrow it.”
“Nathan, is it?” Kelly whistled a little, then asked, “what's he doing at the house?”
“He's not at the house, Mom—I'm at his place.”
“You mean the lodge?”
“That's the one.” Keira grinned and watched her reflection smile back at her.
“So this storm. How bad is it?”
“Phone lines down, remember?”
“Which means the roads are blocked, which means you're stranded in that big lodge with Nathan Barrister?”
Keira laughed. “All that college wasn't a waste after all. You're really quick.”
“Very funny. How did this happen? Oh, K. You slept with him, didn't you?”
“Kelly …” Keira glanced back over her shoulder, as if Nathan could hear her sister's voice.
“You did. I can so hear it in your tone. It's that, this is none of your business, butt out, Kelly, tone. I know it well.”
“And yet,” Keira said through gritted teeth, “you always seem to ignore it.”
“I'm sorry. No, wait. I'm not. Honest to God, Keira, are you nuts? This is Nathan Barrister, for God's sake. He is sooooooo not your type.”
A quick jolt of anger shot through Keira but she managed to squelch it before she could shout. “What exactly is my type then, Kel? You tell me.”
“Someone remotely normal? As in, not some damn recluse? Someone who isn't one of the richest men on the planet? Someone who isn't renowned for strings of one night stands?”
Well, Keira thought bitterly, she'd had to ask. “You're really making me sorry I called,” she muttered and took another drink of coffee, appreciating the scalding heat as it sang down her throat.
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