A Match for Celia

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Not that he’d told her anything she shouldn’t know, of course. His fascination with her hadn’t made him that careless.

Movement from his left caught his attention. Without turning his head, he checked it out. A couple stood beneath a scraggly palm tree, locked together, mouths fused, hands roaming. Reed turned his eyes forward and kept walking. And continued to think of Celia.

Celia woke early again Saturday morning, facing another day with nothing in particular to do. Though she’d spent the evening before telling herself to stay away from Reed Hollander in order to avoid any unwanted complications, she found herself thinking of him before she’d even finished her shower. She knew he, too, would be at loose ends today. He would probably be agreeable to spending time with her again.

“Some liberated woman you are,” she grumbled at the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman in the bathroom mirror. “Can’t you have a good time all by yourself?”

But the problem was, she couldn’t. Celia just wasn’t a loner.

She could find someone else to spend the day with, of course. Yesterday morning she’d chatted for a few minutes with two middle-aged sisters who were vacationing together, and who’d hinted that they wouldn’t mind if she joined them for a shopping jaunt into Mexico or a couple of hours bird-watching on the untamed central section of Padre Island. She’d probably have a very nice time with them.

Of course, she’d had a very nice time with Reed yesterday.

Shaking her head in frustration at her own behavior, she did her makeup, dressed quickly in a navy-and-white, blouse-and-skort outfit, and brushed her hair into a gleaming, straight curtain to her shoulders. She was hungry, she decided. She would think about her plans for the day during breakfast.

She was detained twice on her way to the restaurant. She had hardly left her building before she crossed paths with Enrique Torres, who greeted her warmly and then tried to talk her into joining him and his wife for an afternoon of local sightseeing. Celia graciously declined, fibbing that she’d already made plans for the afternoon.

Torres was frowning worriedly when Celia walked away; she wondered if he suspected that she would be spending another day with Reed. And if he did, why should he care? Surely Damien didn’t expect the resort manager to chaperone any women friends who happened to be at the resort without Damien!

Celia had taken only a few more steps toward the restaurant when the resort social director, Mindi Kellogg, all but chased her down from across the common, calling her name in a shrill voice. “Miss Carson! Miss Carson!”

Celia paused reluctantly, aware of a faint grumble of protest from her stomach. “Yes?”

“I want to personally invite you to join a group of us for an excursion this afternoon. It’s going to be so much fun. We’re visiting the University of Texas–Pan American Coastal Studies Laboratory at Isla Blanca Park to see the aquariums and the shell collection. From there we’ll be stopping at Sea Turtle, Inc. to learn about endangered sea turtles. It’s a fascinating afternoon, I can assure you. One of our most popular activities.”

“It sounds like a lot of fun,” Celia said, “but—”

“If that doesn’t interest you, we have a shuttle that will take you to Matamoros, Mexico. It’s only a thirty-minute trip. Have you been, yet?”

“No, I—”

The blonde grinned and patted Celia’s arm. “Oh, you’d love it. The markets are fascinating, and the museums are very interesting.”

“Thank you, Mindi, but I—”

“Or perhaps you’d rather take a guided horseback tour of the island. The stables provide a—”

“No, thank you,” Celia interrupted, trying to speak firmly without actually being rude. She was growing increasingly irritated by the staff’s efforts to keep her occupied. She didn’t like feeling as though her actions were being monitored, her choices limited. “It’s very nice of you to offer, but I have other plans for today.”

“But, Miss Carson, we—”

“Celia.” A familiar deep voice overrode Mindi’s squeak of protest. A large, warm hand fell on Celia’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m late. Must have overslept. Are you ready for breakfast?”

Celia looked up gratefully, meeting Reed’s sympathetic smile. “Yes, I’m starving,” she said fervently.

He nodded to the openmouthed social director. “Good morning, Miss Kellogg. Nice day, isn’t it?”

He left her sputtering an answer as he all but towed Celia toward the restaurant.

“You looked as though you were in need of rescue,” he said before Celia could speak, as soon as they were out of the social director’s hearing. “What was she trying to do, sign you up for a talent show or something? A bungee jumping tournament?”

“No, she wanted to introduce me to endangered sea turtles or take me shopping in Mexico,” Celia corrected ruefully. “I’m sure both would be interesting, but—”

“But not with Mindi standing on the sidelines cheering you on, right?”

“She is a bit cheerleaderish. I’m sure she means well, though,” Celia added quickly, feeling guilty for making fun of the other woman.

“Too perky for my tastes,” Reed said with a shake of his dark head. “All that bubbly energy and enthusiasm makes my teeth hurt.”

Celia giggled. “I was trying to be nice,” she reproved him.

He shrugged. “I’d rather eat. Are you really starving, or was that just an excuse?”

“No, I’m really hungry. I was just on my way to breakfast.”

“There’s no reason for us to eat alone, is there?”

She hesitated, and looked up to find him watching her with an intentness that belied his light tone. Since she couldn’t think of any good reason why they shouldn’t have breakfast together—none she could have explained, anyway—she smiled and shook her head. “No.”

Reed looked pleased with her answer.

Reed seemed to go out of his way to be entertaining during their leisurely breakfast, and he succeeded. Celia found herself forgetting her reservations and chatting with him as easily as an old friend.

They had almost finished their meal before she realized how closely they were being watched.

The staff was being discreet—sort of. They weren’t exactly staring at Celia and Reed. But they were watching, and Celia wondered if this shift had been told that she and Reed had been together for dinner last evening. Were they speculating whether she and Reed had spent the entire night together?

The only restaurant employee who didn’t seem overly curious was their waiter, a good-looking young African-American with an engaging smile. The service he gave them was nothing more than briskly professional—which was a great relief since Celia was so painfully aware of the more open curiosity from the others.

This was getting ridiculous. She was not the personal property of Damien Alexander, despite what his staff might think. Or was she being completely paranoid?

She looked across the table. “I need to get away from this place today, Reed. Are you interested?”

“Tired of being the center of attention?”

She widened her eyes. “You’ve noticed it, too? That everyone seems to be watching us? I thought—I hoped I was imagining it.”

He shook his head. “You aren’t imagining it.”

“I don’t know why they’re doing this. It’s not as though I’m all that interesting.”

“They’re guarding the boss’s interests,” Reed explained with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She frowned. “That’s stupid. Damien and I aren’t—we haven’t even—we’re only friends,” she concluded awkwardly, wondering how many times she had to repeat it. And whether Reed believed her any more than anyone else seemed to.

Reed studied her for what felt like a long time. And then his smile deepened, becoming just a shade more genuine. “Where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere,” she said in quick relief. “How far are we from San Antonio?”