“Kind of makes you feel like you’re hovering at the edge of the world, doesn’t it?”
She watched the sun dip into the water, imagining she could hear it sizzle. “When I was little, I was always an early riser and I’d dash up to our building’s roof whenever I could and watch the sun come up. My mom hated for me to be up there all alone. She was always afraid a strong gust of wind would blow me off the roof. But I loved it there. I felt so free. It was just me up there, all alone, waiting for the sun to greet me.”
It took her a few minutes to realize Grant hadn’t said anything. She pulled her gaze away from the setting sun to find him looking at her. “Shouldn’t you be watching the sunset?”
“You’re a lot better to look at than the sunset. And I liked your story about the roof.”
She laughed. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Still, you shared it with me and I appreciate it.”
She didn’t know why she had. Another part of her past she’d divulged to someone who was practically a stranger. Maybe it was the champagne loosening her tongue. Then again, she’d been drinking iced tea over lunch when she’d told him about her parents and siblings, so she had no excuse.
What the hell was wrong with her tonight? She normally kept her past locked up tight. No one knew about it, yet in the space of a couple of hours Grant now knew more than she’d ever told anyone.
Not that it mattered, since after this shoot she wasn’t going to see him ever again.
After the sun set, the boat turned around and made a leisurely sail back to the dock. Katrina couldn’t recall having a nicer, more relaxing evening, other than being alone and reading one of her favorite books.
Grant didn’t talk incessantly, and when he did, it wasn’t all about himself like a lot of men she knew. The man was good company. She liked her own company just fine, and mostly preferred it that way, since men were a complication she didn’t need in her already too-complicated life.
They both thanked the crew for a nice sail, and he held her hand as she stepped off the catamaran.
There was a car waiting for them at the end of the dock.
“It’s like you planned it that way,” she said as the driver got out and held the door for them.
“Kind of,” Grant said, and slid in beside her.
The ride back to the hotel didn’t take long. Grant took care of the tab for the driver, and then held her hand as she got out of the car. There was still a lot of activity at the resort, since it wasn’t all that late.
“Care for a drink at the bar?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I need to get a full night’s sleep since we’re shooting again tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”
“It’s not necessary. I know the way.”
“I’ll walk you anyway.”
She shrugged, and he stayed close to her as they made their way to her bungalow. She fished her key out of her bag, then turned to him.
“I had a nice time. Thanks.”
“That was probably painful for you to say.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “It was not. I can be charming and polite. Even fun.”
“I’m sure you can. But I can tell you don’t go out much. And you obviously aren’t comfortable around men.”
She pinned him with a look. “I’m extremely comfortable around men, since I shoot with them all the time.”
“That’s work. I’m talking about fun. Dating. Romance. You know, romance? That thing you said we weren’t going to have together? Or is it just me you don’t like?”
Now he was putting words in her mouth, and irritating her. “I never said I didn’t like you.”
“So you do like me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say that, either.”
He laughed, then took the key card from her hand and opened the door to her bungalow. “Get some sleep, Katrina. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She was kind of shocked he didn’t push to come in for a drink, or even try to kiss her. “Okay. Good night, Grant.”
He nodded, and waited there while she closed the door and locked it. She put her purse down and kicked off her sandals. When she went to the window to check, he was gone.
Interesting man.
And one she couldn’t figure out at all, which was odd, because she thought she knew men very well. But this man she intended to avoid, like she had made avoiding men a practiced art her entire life.
She had made independence her priority, knew better than to trust any man.
I’ll never leave you, my printsessa.
She could still hear her father’s voice in her head, promising he’d always be there for her.
Right up until he’d disappeared from her life forever, abandoning her and her mother without a word, shattering her world and her trust.
And then her mother had died, and she’d been on her own, spending years carving out the independence she’d worked so hard to attain for herself, and for her siblings.
She’d never let a man—any man—screw that up.
Even if her libido thought otherwise.