Roman told the hotel clerk they needed two rooms, on separate floors. As soon as the clerk handed Grace a key card, she shouldered her backpack, lifted her suitcase and tote bag, and headed for the elevator. He stopped the door just before it closed. “I’ll see you at the pool in twenty minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” She glared at him. “Are you getting in?”
“I think I’d better wait.” He let go of the door and stepped back as she punched the button. What had he done wrong?
He thought he’d be alone with Grace in the pool and they could talk. Kids were everywhere! Muttering a curse under his breath, Roman opened the gate. He could forget about swimming laps. Three women sat on the pool steps. Grace wasn’t one of them. Pulling off his T-shirt, Roman tossed it with his towel on a vacant chaise lounge. The three women looked at him. The freestyle tribal tattoo he designed to be wrapped around his rib cage and chest usually drew attention. He’d suffered hours of pain and paid thousands of dollars to get inked. He wouldn’t be wasting time and money again.
Roman spotted Grace in the deep end, batting a beach ball back to a child in the shallow end. He found free space and dove in. Staying under, he headed for her. It was worth the chlorine burn to see Grace underwater. She had legs like a ballet dancer and more curves than he’d imagined. When he came up right in front of her, she pulled back, startled. Her dark hair was wet and slicked against her head; her pale shoulders glistened.
Raking his hair back, Roman grinned at her. “The water feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” She put a little more distance between them. “You were right.” She gave him an impish smile. “But you’re going to have a hard time doing laps.”
“I gave up on that idea when I came out the door.” He moved closer again. “How about a game of Marco Polo?”
“It’s against the rules.”
“Rules are made to be broken, Grace.”
Her eyes flickered. “Not by me, and certainly not with my boss.” She swam away.
He shouldn’t have flirted with her. She was going to be even more uptight with him now. She walked up the steps and sat near a woman holding a toddler on her lap. They fell into easy conversation. Children swarmed the deep end. One tossed a ball at him. He caught it in one hand and tossed it back. “Let the man do his laps,” the woman sitting with Grace called out to them. When they kept getting in the way, she called them to the shallows, gathered her brood, and headed for the gate.
Grace was back in the pool, but keeping her distance. When she lifted herself onto the side, he swam over. Crossing his arms on the edge of the pool, he smiled up at her. “You look cooled off.”
“I’m sorry I got mad.”
“I didn’t intend to embarrass you. It was my idea to swim, and right that I paid for the suit. It’s no big deal, Grace. I wasn’t expecting anything in return.” Shut up, you idiot. He raised himself and sat beside her. Unlike other women he’d met, she didn’t look at his body. She looked away, then straight ahead. “We’re going to Yosemite tomorrow.” That brought her head around.
“What about Golden?”
“It’s not going anywhere. Have you ever been to Yosemite?”
“No, but—”
“If you think wildflowers are something, wait until you see Half Dome.” He curved his hand over the edge of the pool, as close to hers as he could get without touching her. She moved her hand away. She looked uncomfortable. He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s get dressed and find a place to eat.” She hesitated before accepting his help. Her hand was cold, and she shivered. Roman grabbed his towel from the chaise lounge and swung it around her. “What time do you want to go out to dinner?” He took another towel from the pile by the gate.
“Whenever you want.”
He looked at her. “I’m starving right now.” And not just for food. “How soon can you be ready?”
Half an hour later, Roman sat in the lobby, waiting. Grace came out of the elevator, back in uniform: black slacks, loose button-up white blouse, a single strand of pearls, and low black heels. Classic, professional. Was she trying to remind him this trip was supposed to be strictly business?
The hotel clerk had given him directions to a nice steak house. Roman gave the host a twenty to seat them in a quiet booth. When they were offered drinks, Grace asked for water. If he wasn’t the one driving, he’d have ordered a Scotch, maybe two. He was beginning to feel as tense as she looked. When he picked up the wine list, she turned her glass over.