“Just met.”
“When?”
“Today, right before Max got here.”
“What fortunate timing,” Kevin said wryly. He wasn’t sure whether to kill his cousin or thank her. Obviously Helen had been a very busy woman. Maybe he should recommend she get a job so she’d stop meddling in his life.
He studied Gracie, who was concentrating intently on putting one foot in front of the other, the tip of her tongue caught between her lips. Another jolt of pure lust shot through him. He picked up the pace, which meant he wound up virtually carrying Gracie.
“Whoa,” she murmured, a pleading note in her voice.
“Too fast?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Gracie, if you have to get drunk to face Max, that should tell you something, don’t you think?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “What?” she inquired dreamily.
Obviously this was not the time to try to make a point, he concluded. “Never mind.”
“Kevin?”
“Yes, Gracie.”
“You’re a nice man,” she said. She patted his cheek. “Very nice man.”
“Thank you.”
“You won’t go away when Max comes back, will you?”
“No, Gracie, I won’t go away.”
She nodded. “Good.”
Kevin didn’t see anything good about it. She was testing the limits of his control.
“Don’t want to go back to France,” she said.
“Nobody’s going to make you go back to France.”
“Max could,” she said, her head bobbing up and down.
“No, he can’t. Not unless it’s what you want.”
“He’ll offer me lots and lots of money.”
Kevin had never before considered what Gracie’s financial situation might be. She’d certainly seemed to be getting along okay. She was thinking about buying a very expensive waterfront house. She couldn’t be flat broke.
Still, perhaps she did need to get a job. He supposed she couldn’t live forever on whatever she’d saved. No wonder she was so anxious to get her hands on Aunt Delia’s house in a hurry. She probably needed to get a business up and running before she ran out of cash.
“Don’t worry about the money, Gracie. We’ll figure something out,” Kevin promised.
There were plenty of other choice properties available that might serve Gracie’s purpose. He’d check them out himself first thing in the morning, then steer her toward one of those if she was determined to stay here and open a bed-and-breakfast.
If all else failed and Delia agreed, he’d have to reconsider selling her the Victorian that had been in his mother’s family for generations. It was his one direct link to the side of the family that had never made any real demands on him. He hated the thought of giving it up, of seeing it turned into a commercial venture.
He glanced over and noted that Gracie seemed to be walking with a little less difficulty staying upright. By the time they had circled the block, she was almost steady on her feet. She still clung to him, though, which made him wonder. Was she as confused by her feelings for him as he was by his for her? The possibility offered some comfort.
As they turned toward her house, her steps slowed. Kevin glanced ahead and saw that Helen’s car was parked in front of the house.
“Uh-oh,” Gracie said softly. “They’re back.”
Kevin folded her hand in his. “Don’t worry about a thing, darlin’. I’m right here beside you.”
Gracie had only a dim recollection of the first meeting between Kevin and Max. Despite the walk that Kevin had dragged her on, she’d been surprisingly muddle-headed from her two glasses of wine. Maybe she’d just wanted to get drunk and willed it. She had noted that Max and Helen were getting along nicely, noted Kevin and Max were shooting daggers at each other, then politely excused herself and wandered off to bed.
Okay, it was the coward’s way out, but no one had objected too violently. In fact, judging from the tension in the air, she wasn’t so sure anyone had even noticed.
She’d slept straight through until morning, then awakened with just enough of a hangover, to make her wonder if it had been two bottles, not two glasses of wine. She vowed never to touch another glass of anything stronger than water. Obviously she did not have a head for alcohol. Apparently she’d sipped a lot less wine in France than she’d recalled.
When she went downstairs, she found Max already in the kitchen, sitting glumly at the table with a cup of coffee. Since she doubted he’d made it himself, it was probably yesterday’s. At this point, though, any caffeine was better than none. She poured herself a cup and sat down opposite him.
“Feeling better?” he inquired tightly.
“Much,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Did you enjoy your evening with Helen?”
“Helen and Kevin,” he corrected. “I don’t get it, Gracie. He doesn’t seem your type at all.”
“What do you know about my type?”
“You forget, I met several of the men you dated in France. They were all suave and sophisticated.”
Yep, there was a contrast there, all right. “Kevin grows on you,” she said simply. “Besides, we’re not dating. He’s a friend.”
“Really? He seems to think it’s more than that.”
She stared at Max suspiciously. “What did he say?”
“In so many words, he warned me off.”
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
“Just that you were well taken care of, that you had plans for the future, that sort of thing.”
“I see.”
“So, what are your plans?”
For some reason, Gracie didn’t want to tell Max about the bed-and-breakfast. Maybe she feared some scathing comment. Whatever her reason, she kept silent.
“Is Kevin involved in these plans?”
“Yes,” she conceded truthfully. He stood between her and attaining the house she wanted, though she didn’t spell that part out to Max. Let him think what he wanted.
“I see. Then my coming here was a waste of time?”
“I told you that before you ever booked the flight.”
He shrugged. “I thought I could change your mind.”
Getting through to him had been easier than she’d expected. Now, though, he looked so despondent that Gracie took pity on him. She was certain that look had more to do with his dread of the search for a replacement hotel
