Silver Screen Romance
AlTonya Washington
When business becomes pleasureAlthough they’ve never met, Davia Sands knows all about Kale Asante’s reputation for doing whatever it takes to close a deal. Now a mysterious inheritance is about to turn the longtime business rivals into reluctant partners. The only thing more combustible than their fiercely competitive spirits is the sizzling attraction that ignites the minute Davia lays eyes on the irresistible industrialist.Snapping up unique properties has made Kale a superstar in the world of international development. But he’s driven by a sense of fairness when he and Davia discover that only one of them is the rightful owner of the Iowa movie theater they both covet. As they search for answers in the small town’s quaint past, severe wintry conditions trap Kale and Davia in close quarters. Will giving into their big-screen fantasies lead to real heartbreak? Or culminate in a lifetime of pleasure?
When business becomes pleasure
Although they’ve never met, Davia Sands knows all about Kale Asante’s reputation for doing whatever it takes to close a deal. Now a mysterious inheritance is about to turn the longtime business rivals into reluctant partners. The only thing more combustible than their fiercely competitive spirits is the sizzling attraction that ignites the minute Davia lays eyes on the irresistible industrialist.
Snapping up unique properties has made Kale a superstar in the world of international development. But he’s driven by a sense of fairness when he and Davia discover that only one of them is the rightful owner of the Iowa movie theater they both covet. As they search for answers in the small town’s quaint past, severe wintry conditions trap Kale and Davia in close quarters. Will giving in to their big-screen fantasies lead to real heartbreak? Or culminate in a lifetime of pleasure?
“Wanna come in?”
“I can’t.” She wanted to, though. Oh, how she wanted to. “I, um...I only came to thank you.”
“And of course staying in the hall is the only way you can do that properly?”
Ignoring the suggestion in his words, she smiled. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to thank you for putting me to bed. I guess I must’ve dozed off on the sofa.”
“We both did.” He leaned on the door again. “Guess the day was longer than we realized.”
Davia nodded. “Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
“Are you serious?” Though he didn’t explain his comment, she saw it his eyes. He was awake now. And feasting on the sight of her. He rose to his full height and gave her a curious smile before opening the door wider. “Come in, Davia.”
Again, her hazel gaze fell to his chest. Creamy brown, sleek and broad, it called out to her and she could almost feel her fingertips tingle from their desire to crawl across it.
“Kale, I can’t.”
Dear Reader (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02),
Thanks bunches for diving into my latest Kimani Romance title. If you follow me on social media then you know I’m a serious movie fanatic! You could say that Silver Screen Romance is somewhat of a testament to the movie lover in me—toss in our stunning hero Kale Asante and I’m...well...in love.
The unexpected attraction between Kale and our heroine, Davia Sands, offers romance, mystery and another of my faves—winter weather. Yeah, I know that snow can be a pain but Kale and Davia find lots to do in the sleepy Midwestern town where they’ve inherited, of all things, a movie theater. I crafted Silver Screen Romance while imagining you curled up with your favorite hot beverage and peeking into the lives of this gorgeous, sexy couple. Here’s hoping the steam is to your liking.
Email your thoughts to altonya@lovealtonya.com.
Love,
Al
Silver Screen Romance
AlTonya Washington
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ALTONYA WASHINGTON has been a romance novelist for over eleven years. She’s been nominated for numerous awards and has won two RT Reviewers’ Choice Awards for her novels Finding Love Again and His Texas Touch. AlTonya lives in North Carolina and works as a college reference librarian. This author wears many hats, but being a mom is her favorite job.
For those who enjoy their love stories in print and...on-screen.
Contents
Cover (#u9e8efc06-9ec9-5658-9c50-6c4fa778cea9)
Back Cover Text (#ua10bbf51-24fb-5c61-9bca-e6bbd48d7730)
Introduction (#uf91a862d-cada-5e43-9a3d-33c2b3eee425)
Dear Reader (#ue6a17f6f-7e62-5e46-bfcf-60922dfb7344)
Title Page (#ufa86ebcc-50ee-5e70-8f56-fe64214fcb6e)
About the Author (#uce1e2f00-167b-5d61-9d99-cb53779bfccf)
Dedication (#u394e782b-1f1b-5c22-9333-24d392579cff)
Chapter 1 (#u7067d9bd-0282-5fdc-a1dd-49cb4b7b890c)
Chapter 2 (#u0e44d060-ca3b-5c72-b4f2-dd361be7fc96)
Chapter 3 (#ub9eab1bc-1a7e-50e7-ab0f-cb952ab350f2)
Chapter 4 (#ua23b9e27-c916-5940-9740-fbc9bbe17bec)
Chapter 5 (#u4521ea95-9344-52a1-be18-6d617a22055d)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)
Miami, Florida
“Where?” A hint of laughter mingled with the element of sincere bewilderment in Kale Asante’s question. His voice was rich, its tone possessing a warmth that was equally displayed in his liquid-chocolate gaze.
Kale’s lawyer, Felton Eames, looked to be on the verge of laughter himself. “Mullins, Iowa,” Felton said once he’d spared a second glance toward the documents in front of him. The sheet was one of several spilling from the charcoal-gray briefcase lying open on the black-walnut coffee table in his client’s den.
Kale appeared to be considering the information while he rubbed the tip of an index finger across the long line of one sleek brow. Amusement came through that time in the form of a chuckle before more words followed. “I honestly can’t recall ever visiting the place or knowing anyone who has.”
Felton nodded while rubbing his fingers through the cap of salt-and-pepper waves covering his head. “I didn’t think you had,” he sighed. He grabbed another of the documents that languished over the open edge of his case and passed it to Kale. “But it looks like your late uncle did.”
San Francisco, California
“Where?” Intrigue was the resulting emotion when Davia Sands heard the name Mullins, Iowa. Her clear, hazel eyes sparkled more effervescently than normal while she observed her business attorney.
Bess Gaither merely continued to swivel in the burgundy scoop chair she occupied, smiling over her client’s reaction.
Davia turned her bright, wide stare toward the document that outlined the news Bess had come to deliver that afternoon. “How could I own land in Iowa and not know about it?” Unmistakable bewilderment had her voice in its clutches.
Bess ceased her swiveling and left the chair to top off her coffee at the bar cart on the deck where she and Davia conversed. Though the day had been a surprisingly comfortable one and rich, late-afternoon sunlight doused the deck, a chill still carried on the early January wind.
“Specifically speaking...” Bess said, pausing as if to add a dramatic flair while she filled her coffee mug to the brim with the aromatic blend. “You don’t own land, but a building. Or, from what I understand, what’s left of one.”
“Okay...” Davia rebundled herself into the afghan that helped the sweatpants and long-sleeved tee keep her warm against the breezy day. “So how’d I come to own a building—or what’s left of one?”
“Seems you’ve got Miss Glory to thank for that.” Bess used the smug manner she put in place whenever she was about to eviscerate or merely stun someone at a negotiating table.
Davia sat a little straighter on the lounge she occupied. Bewilderment had her expression in its clutches that time. “What’s my late aunt got to do with—” she checked the document again “—Mullins, Iowa?”
Bess prepped her coffee, adding sugar and cream to suit her taste. “If you bother to actually read that page I gave you, you’ll see that Miss Glory spent quite a bit of time there during the early forties. She inherited the building from a Chase Waverly when he passed away in 1956.”
Davia regarded the sheet in hand with greater interest. “That can’t be right.” Her voice held a quiet, considering tone, as though she were attempting to convince herself. “I’ve never heard anything about this. I don’t think even my mom and dad know.”
Gloria Sands was the older sister of Davia’s father. The woman had been Davia’s favorite relative across the whole of either of her parents’ extremely large families.
“A woman’s life is a trove of secrets.” Bess’s sigh held the unmistakable air of playful mystery. She gave a theatrical twirl away from the bar cart with her steaming mug of coffee still firm in her grip.
“What sort of mystery could my aunt have been involved in in Iowa?”
Bess inhaled the fragrant steam drifting off the mug. “Guess you’ll find out on Wednesday.”
“What’s Wednesday?” Davia’s tone was absent at best. She was still aptly reviewing the document Bess had provided.
“The day you meet with the Mullins town council.”
Davia dragged her eyes up from the page and simply gaped at her lawyer.
* * *
“Are you serious?” Kale pinned his lawyer with an unwavering look and could see all too clearly that the man was completely not joking. “What the hell do I have to meet with the town council for?”
Felton rested his elbows on his knees and conducted a mini thumb war between them. “Seems that after over sixty years the town of Mullins has finally had enough of looking at that piece of land you’ve come into. They find it to be an eyesore that’s driving down the property value in that area of town. That,” Felton said and brought an end to the thumb war, “and there’s talk of a developer wanting the land to put some overpriced artsy shops on.”
Felton spread his hands and shrugged. “The town is calling this its good-faith effort at reaching out to the rightful owners. I think everyone who had a hand in this was all pretty surprised that there were any. At least, they acted surprised. I can’t get a straight answer on how it was overlooked that your uncle and Ms. Sands inherited this property over two decades ago.”
Kale rubbed at his head, crowned by a crop of light brown waves. “You got any info on that place? Demographics? Economic info?”
Felton’s tanned, hard-lined face softened with an easy smile. “I know what you’re getting at and the answer is no. Mullins wouldn’t be suited to any of the kinds of projects you like to sink your teeth into.”
Kale gave his lawyer a begrudging look. “It’s good to know you’re worth what I pay you.” He shook his head while softly laughing before somberness took hold of his voice and expression. “We should see if there’s any truth to this rumor of a developer. If so, I want to find him and make an offer. Unload the property while I can.”
“Kale—”
“If the developer’s a myth, find out who I need to make an offer to in Mullins. I’m pretty sure my uncle wouldn’t have minded.”
“Kale. You can’t do that, man.”
It was rare that Kale heard those words directed at him. While he’d been raised to be humble and appreciative, it was at times difficult to express those qualities. So often, the very nature of his business made the showcasing of such qualities...unnecessary.
At any rate, Kale worked to be a fair-dealing, fair-minded kind of guy. A successful industrialist didn’t become a successful industrialist without earning a respected name.
Still, in spite of all that fairness, humbleness and appreciativeness, Kale struggled with—hell, he despised—being told that he couldn’t do something. In all honesty, he was doing his best to work on that.
Kale could tell from the look on his attorney’s face that the man was getting a kick out of witnessing him in the throes of dealing with that which he despised. Determinedly, he put in place a patient air that was quite obviously a fake.
“So why can’t I do that?” Kale approved of how level his voice sounded.
Felton nodded toward the page he’d given his client. “You own the land. Someone else owns what’s built on it.”
* * *
“Okay, just so we’re clear, are you laughing because this is good news or because you’re pissed? I can never tell with you.”
Davia left her lounge, dregs of laughter still tumbling past the perfect bow that was her mouth. “For future reference, this is my pissed laugh,” she told Bess.
Bess nodded as though she were mentally filing away the information. “Does that mean you know Kale Asante?”
“Know of him.” The words felt like grit on Davia’s tongue. She persevered to deliver more explanation as she went inside.
“The land development world is a small one, once you reach a certain level.” Davia studied the view of the bay from her desk, hoping its calming effects would drench her. “Kale Asante’s name has its own penthouse address there.”
Davia hated the pinched tone she heard in her voice. She wasn’t exactly jealous of Kale Asante’s accomplishments. After all, her name held residence along the same address strip as Kale’s, if for different expertise.
As a cultivator of undervalued properties, Davia had been schooled in the art of recognizing diamonds in the rough from an early age. A product of her aunt’s tutelage, Davia had become a force in the realm of quaint movie theaters. Truth be told, she and Kale Asante orbited different quadrants of the same hemisphere.
There had only been one time when those quadrants had intersected. Regrettably, it had been time enough for Davia to form a none-too-complimentary impression of the well-known industrialist.
* * *
“Of course you know her,” Felton drawled, completely unsurprised as he repacked his briefcase.
“I know of her,” Kale clarified with an easy grin. “I’ve never met her. What?” he queried. Something in Felton’s resulting chuckle had him very curious.
Felton shuffled through his case again and took from it a black folder that he handed to his client.
A long, low whistle drifted past the beckoning curve of Kale’s mouth when he saw the 8x10 color glossy inside. “You are definitely worth every cent I pay you,” he said, his gaze repeatedly scanning the photo that captured the woman’s image from head to toe.
“This is very true.” Felton raised a hand. “Kale Asante, meet Davia Sands.”
Kale understood the man’s amusement. The fact that he of all people had never met the woman in the photo was wrong in so many ways.
“Can’t believe you never bothered to find out what she looked like,” Felton noted absently once he returned to packing his case.
Kale’s deep-set dark brown eyes scanned Davia’s image again. “Our last...interaction wasn’t under the friendliest circumstances,” he said. “It was a rather abstract interaction at best.”
“Business is rarely friendly, my man.” Felton smiled through a grimace.
“Mmm.” Kale took another moment to skim the additional information in the folder before he closed it. “That’s especially true when your adversary thinks you cheated a client to close the deal before she died.”
Felton sealed his case as he looked up at Kale. “Martella Friedman.”
Nodding, Kale shut the folder but set it on an end table instead of returning it to his lawyer.
“Davia Sands was in the running for the theater that inspired the lobby for my last multiplex. Seems I bought it right out from under her.”
Groaning, Felton flopped back against the black suede sofa he occupied and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “So...Davia Sands hates your guts and you’re now fifty-fifty owners of an inherited property.”
Kale settled against the back of an opposing sofa. Folding his arms over a well-defined chest, he appreciated the view of the Atlantic beyond his balcony. “That about sums it up.” He sighed.
“So, should I tell Sully to get the jet gassed up for Iowa?” Felton asked, still massaging his eyes.
Kale took the black folder from the end table, thumbed through it again. “Actually...I’ve got another stop in mind.”
Chapter 2 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)
“So, how about we set the meeting with Sorrells and his guys for the twenty-sixth? Yeah, I’m not thrilled about it, either, but I may be out of town for the next few days, maybe longer...” Davia frowned over the contents of a folder as she entered the lobby in reading mode. Meanwhile, her crew chief’s voice filled the earpiece of the headset she sported.
Davia smiled, having caught her receptionist’s frantic wave across the room. Laughing softly, she turned her focus back to her call with Curtis Wilkes.
“Curt? I need to go, but I’ll be in touch before I leave. Hopefully by then I’ll have more details about this trip.”
Davia took another minute to wrap up the call with Curtis. Her receptionist was almost out of her chair as she waved toward the bank of windows overlooking the famed Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.
“Leslie, what is it?”
“Davia, it’s Kale Asante.”
Davia allowed uncharacteristic surprise to illuminate her face as she stepped forward to greet the man who, until that time, she’d only seen via camera stills and promotional photos. She was offering her hand to accept his shake when he began to speak.
“Ms. Sands, it’s a pleasure.”
“Same,” Davia sighed, a little pleased she’d been able to respond. He had, without argument, taken her completely off guard.
“I know we don’t have an appointment,” Kale was saying, “but I’d appreciate you making time to see me.”
Davia managed a nod, still somewhat off-kilter by the man’s unexpected arrival. Absently, she tugged off her headpiece and caused her boyishly cropped locks to fall in disarray around her dark, fine-boned face.
Kale reciprocated the nod while taking inventory of the woman. Deftly, he assessed the features he hadn’t been able to fully appreciate during his study of the file his lawyer had provided him the night before.
His warm, appealing stare was fixed on every move she made from dragging her short hair back from her face to fingering the thick black plastic band of the headset she held. He didn’t know how long she’d been calling to him before he realized he’d been all but drinking her in with his gaze.
“Sorry about that.” Quietly, Kale cleared his throat and gave a quick shake of his head before meeting her eyes once more. “Would you mind repeating that?”
“Would you like to go to my office?” Davia asked obligingly, her tone just as quiet.
Kale hesitated before answering. Of course, going to her office was the logical move. They needed to talk, but to hell with him believing he’d be able to focus on a damn thing alone in a room with her. A silent, stony voice interrupted his thoughts to remind him that she hated his guts.
Kale nodded, the gesture accompanied by a fluid smile. “That sounds good.”
“Davia? Your assistant’s not at her desk,” Leslie pointed out, her blue eyes bright with interest. “Is there anything I could get for Mr. Asante?” A few beats passed and then she shook her head. “And for you, too, Davia.”
“I’m fine.” Davia arched a brow in Kale’s direction. “Mr. Asante?”
Kale sent an adoring smile toward the receptionist. “I’m good, Leslie, but thank you.”
“Yeah, thank you, Leslie.” Davia spared the woman a knowing look and wondered if Kale Asante could sense how very much her receptionist wanted to see to his needs.
“If you change your mind, I’ve got a bar in my office,” Davia said as she led the way.
“Uh, thank you.” Kale blinked away from where his gaze had drifted. He was pleased he’d managed the response before Davia Sands grew suspicious of his silence and turned to find that he was more focused on the way she moved beneath her clothes than on her offer for a drink.
Davia didn’t seem any the wiser and was showing Kale into her office suite a few moments later. The room had the remarkable ability to pull his eyes away from his hostess’s beckoning figure. He summoned a whistle while surveying the vast space of the corner digs and all it held. All the comforts of home.
“Tell me you don’t sleep here.” His rich voice held the distinct chord of wonder.
“All right.” Davia allowed her quiet to do the talking. When Kale laughed, she joined in.
“I put in a lot of long hours.” Her slight shrug sent a ripple through the fabric of the olive-green shirt dress that drew the eye to the stunning length of her legs. “After a while, it gets hard to focus, so it helps having my favorite things around to help me unwind.”
“Favorite things, huh?” Kale smiled over the phrase while running the back of his hand along one lever of the elliptical machine he stood closest to.
Davia proffered a knowing smile. “Necessary.”
Kale had to bite his tongue before he found himself telling her she must spend a great deal of time on that which she found “necessary.” Her body, though willowy, appeared toned with subtle yet tempting curves. His palms heated with the desire to see if his eyes were in any way deceiving him. Upon first glance, he wagered she’d break if he held her firmly enough.
Aside from the exercise equipment, the office boasted a cozy entertainment area. The spot was complete with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled to capacity with books and an array of DVDs and CDs. The overstuffed recliner in the far corner held a pillow and a fleece blanket and looked to be the perfect nook for a lengthy snooze.
Davia Sands’s work digs were almost an exact replica of his own. Somehow, though, he didn’t think she would appreciate knowing they had anything more in common.
“So...Mullins, Iowa,” he said.
“Mullins, Iowa,” Davia repeated. “Have you ever been there?” she asked.
“Not yet. I decided to drop in and meet you first.”
“Why’s that?” Davia asked while heading to her desk where she set down the headset she’d used.
“A few reasons.” Kale followed her across the room.
Davia took a seat along the front edge of her white oak desk. Raising her hands, she silently encouraged him to continue.
“I’ve been told that Mullins isn’t the sort of place that’d be suitable for one of my properties.” Kale eased a hand beneath his suit coat to slide it into a trouser pocket.
Davia gave a cool smile. “Lavish, expansive, expensive,” she said.
“My reputation precedes me, I see.” Kale steeled himself from grimacing. He’d immediately regretted his choice of words. He had hoped to save the discussion of his reputation—or rather, her perception of his reputation—for later.
Davia didn’t appear on edge. Moreover, she seemed amused, as though enjoying a joke she wasn’t quite ready to share the punch line for.
“Yes, Mr. Asante, your reputation has definitely preceded you.”
Kale acknowledged her thinly veiled insinuation with a faint nod. “I came to see you, hoping we could’ve discussed plans for you to buy me out.”
“Could have?”
Kale nodded once more. That time he shared with Davia an approving smile. “You’re a thoughtful listener,” he commended.
Davia tilted her head to acknowledge his accuracy. “It pays to hear what the other person is really trying to say. If people did more of that, maybe a lot of misunderstandings could be avoided.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” Kale watched Davia as if he’d discovered some additional facet to her appearance that had him newly intrigued.
Davia looked as though her interest had risen a notch, as well. “So you were coming to discuss plans to sell your part of the property but you’ve...changed your mind?”
“I have.”
“Something I said?”
Davia’s thinly veiled insinuation was met with a grin that broadened as he spoke.
“It is, actually.” Kale could see the wave of shock freeze her exquisite features.
There was no going back now. The conversation he’d just as soon put off until...well, never, would soon be under way. Before that, he thought a little clarification of his earlier comment was in order.
“It’s about what I overheard you say when you walked in earlier.”
Davia drew into herself, attempting to rewind her thoughts.
“You said you’d planned to be out of town for the next few days, maybe longer,” Kale supplied.
“Yeah. That...that’s right.” Davia silently admitted she was stumped, having no clue where the conversation was headed.
“May I assume you meant out of town in Mullins?”
“You may.” Davia folded her arms over her chest. Her curiosity was through the roof.
Kale lowered his head as if deeply focused on the unraveling of a mystery. “Is it also safe to assume that you’re not thinking about selling your part of the property?”
“Well, I... No.” Davia blinked, once again stumped. “No, I don’t think I could sell it, Mr. Asante.”
He shook his head. “Just Kale. Kale’s fine.” Actually, most everyone who knew him referred to him by his first initial but—and he would only admit it to himself—he very much wanted to hear her say his name.
Davia obliged. “Kale. I just don’t think I could sell it.”
The hint of a frown began to darken his dreamily crafted face. “Why? Did your lawyer say something that turned you against it?”
Davia remained cool. “Well, no, it...it’s a gift. Or it was. A gift from my aunt—something she would’ve wanted me to have.” She left her perch on the desk and moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a spectacular late-evening view of the Bay area.
“I have my aunt to thank for my career.” Davia’s voice held a soft, faraway tone that hinted of some nostalgic air. “She could’ve done anything with that property had she known about it. That it’s come to me...that it belonged to her...that means something to me.”
Kale had moved to the windows. He stroked his jaw, a contemplative look taking over his features. “Yeah... I see what you mean,” he murmured while he looked out over the evening skies, as well.
Davia turned, resting her shoulder against one of the tall windows. She watched him, trying to decipher the path of his thoughts.
Kale didn’t keep her in the dark for long. “Why do you think your aunt and my uncle left it to us? Why are we just finding out about it now?”
Davia let a quiet sigh escape. The question was nothing new to her. “I asked my lawyer the same thing. She doesn’t think it was so much left to us as it was an asset that was somehow overlooked when the estates were settled after their deaths.” She stood back to fix him with a kind smile.
“I don’t know how it went with your uncle, but my aunt never married, never had kids. Everything she had went to me. We, um, we were close like that.”
“Same with me and my uncle.” Kale turned, putting his back against the window. “My mom’s got four brothers, but she and Uncle Bry—Bryant Leak was his name—were closest in age and he was the one I bonded the closest with.” He smiled, the nostalgic air having claimed him then, as well.
“I got my love of the movies from my uncle.” Kale grinned, resting his head back on the window. His grin took on a heightened definition when he heard Davia laugh.
“I’ve got my aunt to thank for that,” she said. “That’s why all my projects are theaters.”
“Same here,” Kale concurred. “So what do you think caught their eye in Mullins, Iowa, that made them buy it?”
Davia shrugged. “Did your uncle ever mention the place?” She strolled back to her desk, resting against the edge once more.
“Not a peep.” Kale pushed off from the window. “I never heard of it before talking to my lawyer yesterday.”
“Yeah, me, either.” Davia sighed. “I guess it’s worth it to at least go and see what’s out there. Then I can decide where to go from there.”
“Well, just so you know, I don’t plan to fight over it—whatever it is. I mean to accept whatever offer you make me and I only plan to accept it from you.”
Davia closed her mouth once she’d finally realized it was hanging open. Easing off the desk, she reclaimed the chair behind it. “Why would you do something like that?” she managed to ask after a lengthy pause. “From what I’ve heard, there’s some developer already interested in the area. You’re sure to get a pretty penny from selling to them. Why give me the option?”
Kale claimed the spot Davia had abandoned along the edge of her desk. “A few reasons.”
She laughed, swiveling her chair a bit. “You still haven’t shared all the reasons you came to see me.”
“That’s right.” He gave a playful wince that simply intensified the dreamy appeal of his creamy, chocolate-doused features. “Like I said, I came to see you about selling the place.” His expression turned more serious and his eyes darkened. “I also came to see if you were as incredible to look at in person as you were in the file photo my lawyer gave to me.”
Davia felt her heart make an unexpected and frantic shimmy into the back of her throat.
“And...I came to talk to you about Martella Friedman.”
Davia’s heart stumbled into a suddenly upset stomach. She sighed. “And just when we were getting along so well.”
Chapter 3 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)
“So your generous offer is motivated by guilt.”
“No.”
Davia regarded him through narrowed eyes. “Then why are we discussing Martella Friedman?”
“Because you’re misinformed about what went on there.”
“I see... Misinformed that you seduced her business out from under her.”
His laughter was brief yet full of genuine humor.
“Very misinformed,” he insisted.
Davia resented the feel of her mouth tightening but she couldn’t help it. “Kale, this all went down years ago, you know? Why offer an explanation about it now?”
“We’ve never been business partners before.”
“We aren’t business partners now.”
He gave a slight nod. “Closest we’ve ever come.”
“Not quite.” Davia left her chair and returned to stare out over her view again.
“I was there the day her creditors came calling.”
Davia rounded on him, her expression a mixture of amazement and suspicion. “I think you mean her predators.” The clarification sounded hard as stone.
Kale seemed satisfied. “Looks like we’ve at least got a little information in common.”
Davia turned to the windows again. She didn’t want to cry for her friend in front of this man—this stranger. “So, what happened? How is it you came to own Tella’s theater?”
Kale smoothed his fist inside his palm. “I think you know I don’t own it now.”
“But you did. Explain that.”
Kale took a seat in Davia’s desk chair, appreciating the decadent peach suede encasing every inch of the furnishing. “I was there that day for inspiration for an annex I was building on one of my multiplexes. I was looking for something inviting, quaint... Martella’s theater had what I wanted...what I was hoping to recreate in my spot. That’s all. We weren’t in business, Davia.” He waited, hoping she would turn so that he could judge her expression. There, he hoped to find just a little understanding. When she didn’t turn, he continued.
“I was on my way out for the day. I was in town for a few days and had planned to come back to make a few notes before I left for Miami. I went by her office to let her know that I was going and I overheard her inside with her...creditors. It didn’t take much to get the gist of what was up. The place wasn’t open yet for business. I guess they figured they’d caught her there alone.” He paused as the memory overtook him.
“I was about to go in to break their legs before they could break hers—which was what they were threatening.”
By then Davia had turned from the window. Her gaze was rapt with interest as she absorbed the story. “Did you think you could take them?” She tried to ease her jitters by teasing.
Kale smirked a little. “Not before I got in the office.” He shrugged. “Then I was pretty sure I could, but I also heard her telling them she’d have all the money with interest by the following Monday. I heard the figure, went in there and made a big deal about the place being just what I wanted. Then I made an offer. Forty K over what she needed.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.
“I pretended to be surprised when I noticed her friends,” he went on. “I told her I was ready to transfer money as soon as I saw the paperwork and such. Told her I’d be back with my people later in the week.” He smirked again, the gesture carrying lethal intent.
“The garbage in there with her said it wouldn’t be necessary, that they were on their way out. They left and she broke down, told me everything. The gambling—how deep she was in and to how many people. I wound up padding a hundred K onto what she owed to the guys in her office.”
While Kale talked, Davia sat in a chair in front of her desk. “But what happened? How—?”
“I made the mistake of returning with one hundred and seventy-five thousand in cash.”
Davia closed her eyes and hung her head. “Tella...” she whispered, lamenting her friend.
“Even still, she wanted everything by the book. She would’ve refused the money otherwise. She didn’t want it to look like a handout.” Kale shook his head. “I had the papers in hand the next day.” He left the desk chair. Fist clenched, he slowly paced the area behind it.
“I was an idiot,” he said, his rich voice carrying across the room, “charging in there like that without bothering to think. I should’ve known when I heard how much she was in for that she had a serious problem. I should’ve anticipated that she’d—”
“You couldn’t have anticipated that.” Davia scooted toward the edge of her chair. “She didn’t want help. Not the kind we were trying to give her. Not the help she really needed.” She slumped back then and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I’d been talking to her about selling the theater to me. She wouldn’t even consider taking my money outright when I offered—and it looked like she was even going to turn down my offer to buy it.” Davia let out a soft, cold laugh. “Had I made the kind of gesture you did—padding the offer like that—she probably wouldn’t have accepted that, either.”
Kale’s fierce expression had softened as he’d listened. “Sometimes it’s easier to accept help from strangers than friends. How long have you guys been close?” He came over to take the empty chair beside her.
“Since college.” Davia gave a shaky smile. “When I found out her family was in the theater business, my aunt went with me for a weekend visit.” She closed her eyes in appreciation of the memory. “Such an amazing place...”
“Very amazing,” Kale said.
“That weekend we saw Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” She smiled as she remembered.
“Coppola’s?” Kale queried.
She nodded. “This was several years after the movie originally premiered. Tella’s family was known for doing theme weekends. That weekend all the films were dedicated to the infamous Count and it rained the whole time. The theater had such a cozy old-world style. It was the perfect venue to screen a period piece like that, not to mention all the others we saw. It was a fun trip. My aunt had the best time getting to know Tella’s family and I had the best time getting to know Tella a little better.”
Again, Davia felt tears pressuring for release. Again, she willed them back before she turned to Kale. “Why didn’t you ever say what really happened instead of letting folks believe you—?”
“Because letting them believe that bile was better than the true filth of it. At least, what I saw as being filth.”
“You tried to help.”
Kale snorted. “I’ve wondered about that over the years. Wondered if it was all about me trying to make myself feel better in the moment. Like I’d come to the rescue and been the kind of gentleman my uncle always swore a real man should aspire to be.”
He rolled his eyes. “That was someone I had no interest in being. Women always gave me what I wanted without me ever having to play the gentleman’s role.”
“Gave? Past tense?”
Thoughtful listener indeed, Kale mused. “They still do. I guess somewhere along the way I started having a problem with it.” Suddenly he laughed. The gesture held no amusement. “Had I thought more about what Martella really needed—”
The phone’s shrill buzz filled the room and Davia didn’t know whether to celebrate or curse the interruption. Moreover, she didn’t know what to do with the sudden empathy she was feeling for a man she’d practically loathed for the past several years.
Pushing up from the chair, she leaned over the desk to grab the phone. It was her assistant. “Hey, Maggie.”
“Davia, sorry for the interruption.” Maggie Phelps’s airy voice breezed through the receiver. “Leslie told me you were in there with Kale Asante. Is he as sweet and sexy as she claims?”
In her own sly manner, Davia surveyed her guest, who had turned to stare out at the view. “A definite yes to the second and a possible yes to the first.”
“Well, I’m sorry to take you away from your meeting, but I figured this concerned you both.”
“How so?”
“I’ve got an Estelle Waverly on the line. She’s calling from Mullins, Iowa.”
“A call from Mullins?” Davia said for Kale’s benefit.
He turned, curiosity alive in the chocolaty pools of his deep stare.
“Put it through, Maggie,” Davia instructed and then put the phone on speaker. She waited a beat before greeting the caller. “Mrs. Waverly? This is Davia Sands. I’m here with Kale Asante.”
“Oh, that’s great! I’m so glad I caught you both together.” The woman’s voice surged into the room.
Kale reclaimed his preferred spot at the edge of Davia’s desk. “Mrs. Waverly, is there a problem?” he asked.
“Will the two of you be able to make it to the town council meeting? Did your attorneys tell you about it?” the woman asked.
Kale and Davia traded looks.
“We know about it,” Davia said.
“Are we expected to attend?” Kale picked up on the anxious quality in the woman’s voice.
Estelle Waverly chortled. “It depends on who you ask. My husband’s uncle—Chase Waverly—was the original owner of the property. The story of how you two came to own it is an involved one best saved for when you arrive. Can we count on you to be here?”
“You’ve got us curious, Mrs. Waverly,” Davia replied. “I can’t help but say that curiosity does include a fair amount of suspicion.”
“Sounds like this is about more than Ms. Sands and I coming to take a look at property we’ve inherited,” Kale tacked on.
Estelle Waverly released another of her delicate laughs. “Oh, Mr. Asante, it’s definitely about more than that. Please tell me you’ll be here for the meeting.”
Kale and Davia exchanged another look before she accepted the invite. “We’ll be there, Mrs. Waverly.”
“Fantastic! Thank you both so much!” The smile was evident in the woman’s voice. “There’s no need to make hotel arrangements,” she was saying. “My husband and I own the town bed-and-breakfast, and your rooms are already prepared. Pack warmly, it’s January and this is Iowa, after all.” She sighed. “Our apologies for this all sounding so unorthodox, but I think you’ll have a better understanding of things once we’ve had the chance to speak in person. Thank you both again.”
The connection broke. Kale and Davia stared at the dead phone for several silent seconds.
“What is it we’re considering exactly?” Davia queried finally.
Kale was shaking his head slowly. “Guess we’ll find out when we get to Mullins.”
“Why do I get the feeling we’re going to be there for more than a few days?” Davia tapped her nails along the top of her desk.
Kale grinned. “At least we know our rooms are ready.”
Davia wasn’t feeling so at ease. “Did you come to San Francisco on your own, Kale, or is your lawyer here?”
“I’m alone. I hadn’t actually planned to go any farther.”
“Well, it looks like we’re both heading out there without anyone to watch our backs, then. I kind of left my lawyer hanging on whether I wanted her along on this first trip. Now I’m regretting I didn’t ask her to join me.”
Kale nodded. “You know, some might argue if I claim I’m not a sexist, but I’m perfectly fine with you watching my back.”
Davia had to smile.
“I won’t take offense if you don’t feel comfortable saying the same, but I’ll watch your back, anyway.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Her smile held. “So why do you think Estelle Waverly wouldn’t say more over the phone?” Though she honestly wanted to hear his answer, Davia was more interested in avoiding answers about where she stood on the subject of his true involvement with Martella Friedman.
Kale got to his feet. “At least she told us our coming there is about more than just looking at property we inherited.”
“I feel like I should be exercising some sense of precaution, but my curiosity is winning out.”
“Mine, too.” Kale was heading for the bar but paused midstep to gesture toward it instead. “That offer for a drink still stand?” he asked.
Davia gave a consenting wave and began to pace the perimeter of her office. Moments later she was dialing her assistant.
“Maggie, have you printed my tickets to Iowa yet?” Davia felt a hand at her elbow while Maggie’s voice filled her ear.
“Have her cancel the tickets,” Kale was saying.
Frowning, Davia slowly tuned into Maggie telling her the task was next on her list. “Hey, Mag, hold off on that, will you? I’ll call you back in a sec.” She hung up and looked at Kale. “Cancel the tickets?”
He gave her a look of phony discomfort. “Would telling you that I own a jet make you hate me even more?”
“I already know you own a jet. That fact is more than obvious.”
“Hell.” Kale looked decidedly uncomfortable as he released her elbow. “How?”
Davia’s laughter made a boisterous entry. “Surely the guy who envisioned the era of the luxury multiplex rates such perks!” Her eyes narrowed to fix him with a lightly discerning look. “Do trappings like that disturb you?”
“They do when I’m trying to gain the approval of someone who’s already got me in the doghouse. And since the cat’s out of the bag,” he continued before Davia could refute his doghouse claim, “and since we’re going to the same place, the least I could do is give you a lift.”
As her sense of precaution and treading carefully had pretty much abandoned her, Davia didn’t see the harm in going all-in. “Lift accepted. Thanks.”
Kale nodded his satisfaction and tilted his head toward the desk where a beer mug waited next to a frosted bottle of the brew. “Enjoy your drink. I’ll see you later.”
“Aren’t you having something?” she called, realizing he was leaving.
“I’ve got it stocked on the jet. I’ll have one later.”
Davia glanced at the bottle, noticing it was her own label. “How—?”
“My attorney’s file was very detailed.” Kale’s eyes sparkled as he enjoyed her surprise. “It’s a good product, Davia. You should be proud that you’re a partner in that brewery. See you later.”
“And I suppose you already know where I live?”
Hand on the office doorknob, Kale paused and turned to her. “Like I said, my attorney’s file was very detailed. I’ll see you, Davia.”
The door closed at his back just as Davia released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Chapter 4 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)
Davia headed home to pack more. The turn of the discussion with Estelle Waverly had clearly indicated that more than a three-day stay would be required. But why?
Realizing her thoughts had rendered her immovable inside her walk-in closet, Davia shook herself. She pulled a few more garments from the rack that held everything from fisherman’s sweaters to ankle-length cardigans and shearling coats.
She had a pretty good idea that her questions pertaining to the Mullins affair would be answered soon enough. What she wasn’t sure of was whether her questions pertaining to Kale Asante would be answered. Her conversation with him had taken an intriguing turn, as well, she recalled.
What he’d had to say about Martella...was it really true? She had spent so long living under a completely different version of the truth. That version of the truth felt good, it felt safe. Yes, that truth was like a warm blanket, because the more time she could spend despising Kale Asante for Martella, the less time she had to despise herself for not doing more to help her dearest friend. Still, she hadn’t been able to shake the man’s explanation. Something about what he’d shared stuck with her. When he’d spoken, she’d felt a tug of sincerity in his eyes.
She couldn’t stop the snicker that tickled the back of her throat. A tug from the sincerity in his eyes? While she wouldn’t claim Kale Asante wasn’t sincere, that element hadn’t been at all responsible for the definite tug she’d felt in his presence.
Earlier, she’d been amused by her receptionist’s clearly dazed demeanor around Kale. While he’d been exceptionally polite to Leslie, Davia had the sense the man was both accustomed to and appreciative of the reactions he drew from the women fortunate enough to make his acquaintance.
Davia tossed another sweater into the case a bit more forcefully than necessary. She cringed over her selection of the word fortunate but...hell, she was alone. She could admit she’d felt fortunate indeed to have been given the opportunity to look upon such a specimen like Kale Asante.
His looks were assuredly a study in patient craftsmanship. It was rare that she met a man who managed to make her feel dwarfed by his height when she was decked out in heels, for which she had what had to be an unhealthy obsession. With her feet encased in a chic, strappy pair like the ones she wore, her height could top out at a whopping six-two.
Not that such things mattered. The men Davia met were usually business-related instead of personal. She hadn’t been thinking of Kale Asante in a business sense...
Davia shook herself again, selected more sweaters from the closet and dumped them onto her bed where the open suitcase sat already half filled.
No, she hadn’t been thinking of Kale in a business sense. Ironically, it was for that reason she’d been so quick, so certain, of her belief that he’d used his allure to deceive her best friend.
Was it so inconceivable that Tella was made of stronger stuff? After all, her interests at the time had involved elements that threatened her very safety. Whatever Martella may’ve been preoccupied by at the time, Davia was pretty sure Kale Asante’s looks hadn’t gone unnoticed by her best friend.
What woman wouldn’t notice such a body and face? The athletic build, the length of him that had to top the six and a half feet mark at least. His skin was the tone of molten caramel. His deep-set stare possessed the same coloring. Not to mention his close-cut crop of light brown waves. The rich coloring was an attraction on its own.
Holding on to intense dislike in the presence of such an erotic distraction was virtually impossible and now it was only going to get harder. Now they were to be in close proximity for however long it’d take to unravel the mystery they’d inherited.
Davia had enough confidence in her abilities to know she could set aside the allure of Kale Asante, but she still had to admit the man had far more going for him than his good looks. That quiet voice of his was deep but noticeably soft in its delivery. She wondered if he ever raised it. She mused it’d hold a raspy quality if he did. Such was the case with her own husky tone, she knew.
Beyond the voice, there were additional mannerisms that had captured her attention. The way he’d handled her elliptical, the slow brush of the back of his hand along the machine’s bars and levers... She wondered if his touch was so gentle with other things.
Then there was the grin and the playful wince he gave when she’d managed to surprise him or challenge him on some point. She’d been attracted by his looks, but his mannerisms...those were the elements that had intrigued her.
And now you’ve got no reason to hate him.
Davia shook her head free of the unwanted reminder. No, if she took his explanation as fact, she had no reason to dislike him, but that didn’t mean she could fall into bed with him. Well, she could...but should she? And why the hell was she even considering that? Aside from his comment about wanting to know if she was incredible to look at, he’d been the consummate gentleman. She was the one with her mind in her...lingerie drawer.
The accusation had her leaving the suitcase to check the aforementioned drawer for tights and other undergarments.
Davia was tossing an assortment of socks and underthings into the case when the doorbell rang.
She checked her wrist but found she hadn’t yet put her watch back on. Then she looked to the small grandfather clock on the second-floor landing of her town home. She had over an hour before the car arrived. Davia gritted her teeth in dread of an unforeseen business emergency that might be about to throw a wrench into her plans.
She ran downstairs and was surprised when she opened the door.
“Kale?” She gave a self-conscious tug to the hem of the T-shirt she wore with an old pair of denim capris. Once again, she checked her wrist for the watch she still wasn’t wearing.
“You’re not late. I’m early.” Kale met her gaze and smiled.
“I, uh, I thought you were sending a car for me?” Davia’s tone was cautious, curious.
“I did.” Kale turned from the doorway where his frame had eclipsed her view of the cobblestone drive beyond the courtyard where a silver Land Rover waited.
Davia blinked as if mildly stunned. “You drove?”
“I’ve been known to.” His manner was playfully bland.
“So are you trying to make a statement?” Davia joined in on the tease.
“Trying to. I hope it’s one that’ll impress you.”
It occurred to Davia that they were still in her doorway. Quickly she inched back to wave him inside.
“I’ve only got to get dressed and throw a few more things in my suitcase,” she said.
“No rush. It’s not like we’re gonna miss our flight.”
“Right.” Inwardly, Davia gave herself a few mental kicks for behaving like a nervous girl on her first date. She was so not that and a date was so not what this was.
“I was just going to take a quick shower before I got dressed.” Her tone was still breathy and anxious. She wanted to kick herself for real.
Kale laughed. “Davia, it’s all right. We don’t have bags to check. No security gates to clear. I’m ready when you are. Call down to me when you’re done with your packing and I’ll come up and get your suitcase.”
“Oh, no, you...you don’t have to do that,” she told him, only to have him move into her personal space.
“I want to do that,” he said.
Her actual height of five-eleven was greatly dwarfed by him. She admitted to feeling appreciatively overwhelmed and knew it was time to go.
“The kitchen’s behind the bar around this side of the stairway...” she began in an airy, much lighter tone. As she motioned in the direction, she noted, “Just help yourself to anything you want.” Then, turning, she quickly sprinted back up the way she’d come.
Only when Davia had disappeared around the corner at the top of the stairs did Kale look away. Just help yourself to anything you want. Her words reverberated in his head. He muttered an obscenity to criticize himself and wondered if he should tell her to be careful what she said to him.
No...he shouldn’t tell her because it would confirm that solving the mystery of what she was like in bed had consumed the bulk of his thoughts since they’d met. Correction—since he’d seen that picture of her in Felton’s file. And wouldn’t that just take her right back to hating him?
Back to? Had the truth of what really happened between him and Martella Friedman changed or at least softened her perception of him? He wanted Davia to believe that hustling a woman into his bed was not the first thing he thought of when he conducted business. He wanted her to think that because it was actually true. He wanted her to think that even though all he could think of in that moment was having her amazing legs wrapped around his back and that smoky voice of hers moaning his name while he lost his mind inside her.
Muttering to himself, Kale charted a path for the bar and didn’t stop until he tossed back a swig of her fine, locally brewed beer. Why the hell should he care about any of that? Before two days ago, he never thought he’d meet Davia Sands. Providing the truth about Martella hadn’t even been a blip on his radar despite the fact that he didn’t appreciate dark marks being put on his business reputation unless he put them there.
Now he was...what? Trying to pass himself off as a better man when he was nowhere near that? It was as he’d told Davia earlier. He had no interest in being that type of guy.
You did right by Martella. The quiet voice wedged in from his subconscious.
With a grunt, he took another swig of the beer.
* * *
Davia completed her packing and shower in record time. She left her bedroom carrying the weight of her suitcase, garment bag and tote with apparent ease. Impressive, when one considered the stiletto-heeled, mocha-suede boots climbed just above her knees.
Though he approved of the vision she was, Kale didn’t hold much hope that the stairs, heels and luggage would play well together. He took the steps two at a time and relieved Davia of her things before she took the third step down.
“Nice boots,” he said.
Davia glanced down. “Thanks. I thought so, too.”
Kale hoisted the garment bag strap over a shoulder. “Not sure how well they’ll go with an Iowa cornfield.”
“I’m sure I won’t be finding out.” Davia’s reply was full of humor. “My plan is to be in a pair of sneakers or hiking boots by the time I’m in range of one.” She gave another look toward her stylish stems. “These are just for first impressions.” And to appease my unhealthy obsession, she added silently.
Kale carried down the luggage with a fluid grace. “So we’re trying to make a good impression? I should’ve kept my suit on, I guess.”
“I think they’ll take you seriously enough.” Davia admired the quarter-length chamois suede jacket he wore with dark green hiking boots and a shirt of the same color that hung outside a pair of indigo jeans.
“So tell me why we’re trying to make a good impression? I assume it’s for more than the obvious reason of being polite.”
Davia was making a quick check of her tote for anything she may have forgotten. “We don’t know what we’ll find when we get there,” she said. “We may actually want to hold on to our inheritance. If so, we’ll want our new neighbors to like us, right?”
“If so?” Kale set the bags down near the door and turned to face her. “Do you think you might sell it? I got the impression before that you wanted to keep it at all costs.”
“Well, well, Mr. Asante, it seems you’re the one who’s thoughtfully listening now,” she teased.
Kale shrugged, his smile indicating he might have been faintly embarrassed. “You’re having a good influence on me, I guess.”
Davia smiled approvingly and then sighed. “I’ve been thinking about our talk with Estelle Waverly. Ever since we hung up with her, I’ve been growing more suspicious of what we’re stepping into.”
Kale crossed to where Davia stood near an armchair in the expansive space that held a living room and a den on opposite sides.
“You’re thinking she’s not on the level?” Kale asked.
“It’s not that.” Davia quickly shook her head. “But I do get the sense that there’s some kind of...drama involved and that it might play heavily into why my aunt and your uncle never got more involved with the property.”
Kale moved past Davia to pace the living room. She noticed he was stroking his jaw and recalled that he’d done so in her office while they’d talked. The mannerism, teamed with the assessing look that took hold of his jarringly attractive face, made for a captivating mix.
“Do you remember what Estelle Waverly said when I asked if we were expected to attend that council meeting?” Kale said after a long, quiet moment.
Davia sighed again and nodded. “She said ‘it depends on who you ask.’”
* * *
Davia admitted—and wasn’t at all hesitant to do so—that there was a lot to be said for flying by private aircraft. The drive to and subsequent boarding of Kale’s jet had been leisurely and not at all marred by the frenzy and frustration generally associated with a commercial flight.
So much relaxation, however, played to the exhaustion that had mounted in preparation for the trip. Davia gave in to the need for a catnap some fifteen minutes after she and Kale settled in aboard the luxurious craft.
But while she had settled in, such was not the case for Kale. He’d been issuing silent commands to himself not to stare ever since he’d met her. He was determined not to play into any of the behaviors one might associate with the kind of man Davia had taken him for over the past several years.
After leaving her office he’d told himself it was, of course, her looks that had sparked his jaw-dropping reaction to her. Now he completely understood that that perception had merely been his way of avoiding the truth of it. Davia Sands’s looks were simply one aspect of why he’d been so powerfully and unexpectedly captivated by her. Her poised, easy demeanor; the confidence in her words and outlook... Kale knew those elements had been the lure now reeling him in so effortlessly.
Davia had fallen asleep shortly after they’d boarded and Kale was grateful for the chance to ease up on his silent warnings against staring. With the woman at ease, he could stare until he’d had his fill.
A smile further defined the lush curve of Kale’s mouth. Davia’s breathing had deepened and he took a chance on satisfying a bit more of his curiosity. Slowly he allowed his fingertips to drift ever so gently along the line of her cheek. His smile deepened when he discovered her skin felt as silken as it appeared.
He was rubbing a few tendrils of her clipped hair between his fingers when Davia’s lashes stirred to hint of her waking. Kale was cool in his retreat and had distanced himself by the time her eyes opened.
Davia woke with a small yawn and smaller frown as she worked to get her bearings. Finding Kale seated across the small aisle, she smiled.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
Kale raised a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “About forty-five minutes. We aren’t even halfway there so you’ve got time to catch a few more z’s if you want.”
Davia gave in to another yawn. “I think I’m okay now.”
“Get you a drink?” Kale offered, already pushing up from the swivel chair he’d occupied.
“Sure.” Davia’s face brightened with a cunning smile. “I need you to prove to me that you’ve got my beer on this plane.”
“Sit tight.” Kale was already bending to check the mini fridge behind the small bar in the rear of the cabin.
“It’s good to know we’ve got a reach all the way back east,” Davia noted.
“They were serving it at a party I went to out west,” he explained while silently admitting he’d have visited the brewery had he known earlier she was part of it. “How’d you get into that business anyway?” he asked, retrieving two bottles of the chilled brew.
“What?” Davia feigned an affronted look. “Don’t I look like a beer connoisseur?”
“No.” Kale didn’t blink when he gave the response unapologetically.
Davia took no offence and simply laughed. “It was just a funny idea some friends from college kicked around one night. One night long after college.” She laughed softer then. “We’d gotten together for drinks. The bartender gave us all funny looks when we passed on the wine. From there, the conversation took hold.
“We researched the idea. Then we actually thought we might be on to something and figured what the hell? Thanks.” She accepted the bottle from Kale.
“Anyway, we all got very devoted to making it a reality. That while devoting time to our real jobs.”
Kale’s rich laughter filled the cabin. “Wonder what the bartender would think if he could see you guys now?”
“I think his bar was one of the first places to start carrying the beer.” Davia raised her bottle to Kale in a mock toast before she took a swig. “I haven’t thought about that night in so long,” she said after they’d imbibed silently for a few moments. “The bartender didn’t even try to hide his surprise. I mean, why would he? We were a group of Cali girls out for a night on the town, so obviously wine would be on the menu.”
“Obviously.” Kale chugged down another swallow of the brew.
Davia sighed. “I guess it’s good to know I’m not the only one with the capacity to misjudge people.”
“Can I ask you something?” Kale said after another few moments of silence had passed. “How’d you figure out or how’d you...come to the conclusion that me and Tella...that we’d slept together? Did she say something to give you the idea there was or could’ve been something like that going on?”
“No, not really.” Davia straightened, pushing out of her comfortable position on the loungechair. She appeared suddenly stressed. “It was nothing like that.”
“So?” he prodded. “What was it?” He held the bottle poised while waiting on her answer.
Davia didn’t seem in much of a hurry to provide one. “When she sold to someone in pretty much the same business that I was in, I just...figured it had to be about that. I mean...I could’ve matched your offer, Kale. Could’ve beaten it.” She shrugged. “I just assumed you’d offered something I couldn’t match.”
Kale appeared thoroughly intrigued. He sat with his elbows to his knees. The bottle hung between his fingers and was almost totally forgotten. “But why would you think it had to be that and not that she was just too proud to sell to you?”
Davia helped herself to another swig of the frosty lager and realized he wasn’t going to let the conversation end until she confessed all. She decided to just say it and be done with it. “Kale, have you ever looked at yourself?”
He straightened, total bewilderment taking hold of his features. “Looked at myself?”
Davia only watched him. Patiently, she waited for her words to click. She almost smiled when he blinked as awareness began to dawn on him. She looked on in complete appreciation of the adorable element the reaction brought to his gorgeous features.
“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah.” Davia nodded succinctly and then gave in to her need for a smile.
“Should I be flattered?” he queried in a slow, uncertain manner.
“You wouldn’t be if you knew what I was thinking about you.” Davia enjoyed a swallow of the full-bodied beer.
“Wow.” Kale spoke the word reverently while stroking his smooth, strong jaw. “Guess I’ve now got some idea how women must feel when we men make assumptions based on their looks.”
“Well,” Davia sighed, watching the bottle while swirling the liquid inside, “if it makes you feel any better, it’s my first time making that kind of assumption about a man.”
“Any reason why I lucked out?” Once again, Kale seemed completely bewildered.
Davia couldn’t hold back her laughter over his cluelessness. She raised her hand as if about to offer a testimony. “Somebody get this man a mirror,” she groaned.
Chapter 5 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)
Mullins, Iowa
It was approaching dusk when Kale and Davia arrived from California. A dark, roomy SUV sat idling outside the hangar where Kale’s plane had been directed upon landing. Once the flight assistants had stored their luggage in the back of the vehicle, Kale and Davia were on their way to Mullins. The area was a wonderland blanketed beneath thick drifts of snow. The town was located about forty minutes outside the airport in Des Moines. Utilizing the built-in navigation system, they found the Waverly Bed-and-Breakfast with relative ease.
“Wow.” The expression followed Davia’s initial gasp when Kale pulled to a stop at the inn’s wide, brick driveway.
Kale appeared equally impressed as he put the vehicle in park. “You think the rest of the town looks like this?” he asked.
Waverly Bed-and-Breakfast was the first stop when entering Mullins from the west. The place was a stately three-story building of stone, brick and glass. Golden light beamed from practically every wide window that adorned each level, giving the place the look of a gleaming oasis amid some dark, unfathomable expanse.
Kale and Davia just had time to trade prompt, approving glances before the red double doors on the front porch opened. A man and woman stepped out, waving to Kale and Davia. The woman moved further out onto the wraparound porch and urged the guests forward while the man headed toward their SUV.
“Here goes,” Kale said as he left the truck.
Davia put a resolved smile in place as she exited the passenger side.
Kale and Davia’s expressions were decidedly brighter by the time they shook hands with the ginger-haired Caucasian man who approached the SUV.
“Barrett Waverly.” The man extended a hand and offered a generous smile that reached his pale green eyes.
Kale introduced himself as he accepted the handshake.
Davia did the same. “This is a beautiful place, Mr. Waverly.”
“Thanks so much, Ms. Sands. We’re proud of it.”
Smiling, Davia shook her head. “Please, it’s Davia.”
Barrett Waverly’s smile widened. “And you can call me Barry.” He squeezed her hand between both of his and then glanced back toward the inn. “You should go on inside and get warmed up. My wife’s ready to pamper you with your favorite drink.” Releasing Davia’s hand, he motioned to the SUV. “Help you with the bags, Mr. Asante?”
“It’s Kale, please. And, yes, by all means.” Kale took Barrett’s hand in another hearty shake.
The men launched into friendly conversation while Davia carefully made her way toward the house. Though the brick drive appeared dry and well-treated, she still entertained the thought of black ice meeting the spiky heels of her boots.
The woman waiting on the porch had Davia’s complexion and a petite, curvy build. She greeted Davia before offering her hand to shake. “I’m impressed,” the woman said. “The last time I took that driveway in heels like that...it was the last time I took that driveway in heels like that!”
Davia laughed as she shook the woman’s hand. “I thought this might be a good test of my stiletto-wearing ability,” she said.
The woman threw her head back to laugh. “I believe it’s safe to say you passed.” She dropped her free hand over the one still clutched inside Davia’s. “Estelle Waverly. You already met my husband, Barry.”
“Yes. I was telling him how beautiful your place is.” Davia cast another look up at the house.
“Let me show you around.” Estelle kept hold of Davia’s hand. “This is where Barry grew up,” she explained as they entered the main hall. “When we moved back, we had the place completely remodeled and converted it to the inn.”
“So you’re not from here?” Davia asked when Estelle released her hand. She watched the woman rush over to stoke the fire in the enormous hearth at the back of the great room they’d just entered.
“I’m not. Barry and I met and married in Seattle.” Estelle stood in front of the hearth satisfied when the fire was once again burning high and bright.
“Husband and partner.” Davia laced her words with a teasing air. “How do those labels get along in business?”
Estelle raised her hands, gesturing to the room surrounding them. “When ‘business’ consists of this, not bad at all.”
The front door opened and with it came a frigid gust of air and the rumble of male voices and laughter.
Kale watched as Barrett set the baggage in paneled sections inside a wall just off from the main corridor they’d entered.
“This mini freight elevator will transport your things to the third level, where you’ll be staying,” Barry explained.
“Interesting system,” Kale said.
Barrett finished loading the elevator and stood. “It provides the guests with more privacy. We use a system like this to transport everything from luggage to meals. Besides, there’s no elevator, and neither I nor Estelle wanted to be carting bags all the way up to the third floor. Potential bellboys have taken one look at those stairs and run for the hills.”
Laughter flooded between the two men as they continued their trek down the hall and into the great room.
After he was introduced to Estelle, Kale complimented her home. “I was telling Barry that this is quite a place you guys have here. It’s a gorgeous thing to see when you’re just arriving in a new town.”
“Thanks, Kale, and there’s plenty more to see,” Estelle promised.
“But before we get into all that,” Barry said, “let’s get you guys out of your jackets and have you warm up near the fire.”
“What’s everybody having to drink?” Estelle called while Kale and Davia moved closer to the hearth. “We’ve got pretty much every kind of tea and coffee. Even hot chocolate or something stronger, if you like. Our bar is well stocked.”
“I’ll have whatever you do, Estelle,” Davia called, taking great delight at the warmth gliding its way to her chilled skin.
“Tell me you’ve got brandy and I’m a customer for life.” Kale rubbed his hands in brisk fashion in front of the flame.
Barry applauded. “Will a bottle aged twelve years do the trick?”
“It’ll do more than that.” Kale laughed and watched Barry head for the corner bar situated to the far right of the fireplace.
“How many rooms do you guys have here?” Davia asked Barry once the warmth had thoroughly penetrated her bones.
“Five to rent. Este and I have our own suite on this level.”
Kale and Davia exchanged curious looks.
“You guys do well with such a small number of rooms?” Kale asked.
“You’d be surprised,” Barry chuckled just as his wife returned to the room.
Estelle carried a tray laden with a plate of small sandwiches and a teakettle emitting a delightful fragrance.
“The fact that this is my hometown isn’t the only reason we moved back and tried to make a go of this place.” Barry shared the information as he handed Kale one of the two brandy snifters he’d brought over from the bar.
Estelle set the tray on a glossy, black-oak coffee table. The group sat in the four darkly cushioned square chairs surrounding it.
“There’s lots of land in the area and that means lots of folks ready to build on it.” Estelle passed Davia a mug of the fragrant Earl Grey.
“In the hope that there’s a lot of money to be made,” Barry added. “At any given time, contractors and their crews are in and around the area for some project or another. Given the amount of land and opportunity, that trend is set to continue for quite some time.”
“With that kind of incentive, you’d think construction crews would be working ’round the clock,” Kale mused after enjoying a slow sip of the brandy.
“Oh, they’re here in major numbers, believe me!” Barry raised his snifter in a mock toast. “I work for a company that specializes in securing housing for contracting crews. About eight years ago the company decided to acquire its own property in the hope of cutting out the middle man—the hotel chains—and keep that cash in house.”
“Just outside town, heading east, Barry’s company has a larger hotel,” Estelle said to Davia before taking a sip from the teacup.
“The inn is kept for the company heads who might see fit to visit the sites they’re developing. My company’s foray into housing was my idea and it proved to be a lucrative one.” Barry gave a self-satisfied grin. “When I asked to oversee business in this region, they didn’t argue.”
Kale released a whistle into the big room. “That’s some perk. Keeping a full-time job in Seattle and never leaving your hometown? Nice.”
Barry sent his wife a meaningful look then. “We’re hoping it could be nicer.”
Estelle nodded and then turned to shift her gaze between the guests. “Barry has a spot on the town council. So far, they’ve been very successful in bringing many new businesses to the area, and that’s sparked tremendous growth. Our proximity to a major metropolitan area makes us a desirable locale for people wanting the perks of suburban living without losing their connection to city life.”
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