“For us to spend time together?”
“Yes. After yesterday, I’m not so sure . . .” Celeste knotted her fingers in her lap.
Roarke turned his head toward her and then back to the street. “Yesterday shouldn’t have happened,” he agreed in a slow, careful voice. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Again, I apologize. I was out of line for what I did and said. Today is a new day. As you pointed out yesterday, we’re both adults. We’re only having breakfast, but if you prefer, I could sit at a different table.”
She would prefer not to have to be so close to him and suffer through this hands-off policy. “That won’t be necessary,” Celeste said. “I’m sure we can tolerate each other through a short breakfast.”
The planes of his face set into hard lines, but he didn’t say another word until after he parked the car and they entered the deli.
Once they’d ordered, Roarke made an obvious effort to generate conversation between them. “Are you doing one of the tours?”
Celeste nodded.
Seated across from her with his sunglasses off and wearing a dark blue shirt with jeans, he bore the casual air of a summer vacationer. Trying to crush the fluttering of her heart at how attractive he looked in the casual clothes, she lowered her gaze. She spread a brochure and map she’d lifted from an information box at the airport on the table.
“There are so many choices, though.”
“One place you definitely want to visit is the lighthouse. It’s a historic landmark, and it would be a shame for you to leave without seeing it.”
Celeste sighed. “I should’ve planned this better. I don’t know where to begin, and I won’t be here a long time.”
“We could rent a golf cart to get around in. A lot of visitors like the pace and convenience.”
Celeste raised her eyebrow. “We?”
A look of puzzlement, then realization dawned on his face. “Oh, I did say ‘we,’ didn’t I?” When he laughed, his face softened. Warmth replaced the frost present in his eyes since yesterday.
“Are you offering to be my tour guide?” she asked with a tilt of her head, bolstered by his sudden approachability.
He leaned back in the chair, and seconds slowly ticked by until she almost felt the need to squirm. “I do know this island like the back of my hand.” Two more heartbeats before he continued. “Yes, I’m offering to be your tour guide, if you need one.” A small smile touched his lips.
Elation filled her, and she was ill-prepared to prevent it from showing. Derrick warned her to stay away from Roarke, but Derrick had gone off somewhere and left her to fend for herself. What better way to enjoy her sightseeing excursion than with her own personal guide?
“Thank you,” Celeste said, her lids drifting downward, a smile playing across her lips.
They would only be touring the island, but she felt like a lottery winner. He’d used the word “we.” He wanted to spend time with her, and her heart rejoiced in it.
Across the table, Roarke couldn’t smother the warm sensation rising in his chest. She’d done that thing, where she lowered her long lashes in a bashful manner. And smiled, sending shards of pleasure straight to his gut.
Thinking he could evade her, he had decided to skip breakfast and his Aunt Iris’s flaky buttermilk biscuits. Instead, here he sat face-to-face with the same person he’d been trying to avoid. The greatest temptation he’d ever experienced in his life.