Every Breath You Take Read online

  Raking her hair back off her forehead, she admitted the entire embarrassing truth. “I was upset at the possibility that I’d been tricked into having dinner with a gigolo, but then I realized you could be a lot worse than a gigolo.”

  “I can’t think of anything more repulsive than being a gigolo.”

  “No, but you could have been worse than ‘repulsive.’ You could have been dangerous. You could have been a murderer who picks up single women in hotels in the islands, kills them, and buries their bodies in the sand … or … something like that. …” Kate trailed off, feeling like a colossal idiot.

  “So you left a note for the authorities to find in case you disappeared?”

  Kate nodded miserably.

  “Because you wanted to be sure I wouldn’t get away with your murder?”

  Kate was so mortified and so annoyed with herself that she missed the thread of amusement in his deep voice. Unable to hold his gaze, she looked toward Max. “It didn’t seem quite so idiotic then as it does now.”

  For the second time in a few minutes, Mitchell had to fight down the impulse to haul her into his arms. To distract himself, he turned away and picked up the telephone.

  Startled by his abrupt move, Kate said, “Who are you calling?”

  “Room service,” he said mildly.

  “In that case,” Kate said contritely, “you may change my order to a large plate of humble pie.”

  Mitchell was still grinning when the room service operator answered his call.

  Chapter Eight

  LEAVING MITCHELL TO DEAL WITH ROOM SERVICE, KATE went into the suite’s luxurious bathroom/dressing room to clean up. Twisting around in front of the full-length mirrors that lined one wall, she brushed at the bits of grass and dirt stuck to the back of her pants, but there was a damp stain on one side that was very noticeable.

  Conscious of the passage of time, she walked over to the closet and considered her choices. Holly had helped her pack because the night before Kate was to leave for Anguilla, she’d gotten one of the fierce headaches that had been plaguing her since her father’s death. Holly had chosen outfits that were suitable for a romantic holiday with Evan, and none of them seemed completely appropriate for this particular occasion.

  Kate decided on a pair of cream silk lounging pants with a wide band of gold Moroccan embroidery at the hem and a delicate cream silk camisole with a straight neckline and narrow spaghetti straps that tied into bows on her shoulders. The outfit seemed a little too softly feminine to suit dining alone in a hotel room with a strange man, but it covered everything except her arms, and the neckline was perfectly modest, so it seemed like the best selection among the clothes she had with her.

  She changed quickly and slipped on a pair of gold sandals. At the mirror above the hammered brass sink, she paused just long enough to run a brush through her hair and put on fresh lipstick. She was absolutely determined to atone for everything she’d put Mitchell through by making the rest of his evening as enjoyable as she possibly could, and that meant not keeping him waiting alone any longer than necessary.

  The telephone began ringing while Kate was applying lipstick, and she reached automatically for the extension hanging on the wall beside the mirror; then she hesitated and let it continue ringing. Evan phoned every night at about this time, and this call was undoubtedly from him. If he was calling to explain that he couldn’t make it to Anguilla the next afternoon, then he’d probably be relieved to leave that message on the hotel’s voice mail for her. If he was calling to confirm that he was going to arrive as planned, she could listen to his message later. Right now, she had a rather urgent debt to repay to the man in the next room, and the only way she could repay it was by being the best hostess she could possibly be. That was one thing Kate knew how to do rather well, having grown up in the restaurant business.

  She took a last glance at herself in the mirrored wall behind her; then she turned off the lights and left the room.

  She expected to find Mitchell outside on the terrace enjoying the balmy, moonlit night, but instead he was standing beside the sleeping dog with his hands in his pockets and a bemused smile on his face. She stopped in the doorway, arrested by his expression, trying to guess what he was thinking, but then something else struck her: He looked as immaculately groomed as he had when he first arrived at the hotel that evening. His thick black hair was beautifully cut and styled—and completely unmussed; his snowy white shirt was as unwrinkled as his tan trousers, and his brown loafers were gleaming. He’d draped the navy blazer he’d been wearing earlier over a chair, and he’d folded his shirtsleeves back onto his forearms, but other than those two alterations in his appearance, he certainly didn’t look as if he’d helped load and unload a large, unconscious dog on and off a stretcher.

  Earlier that day, in the dim light of the restaurant, she’d been too mortified at having doused him with the Bloody Mary to do more than form an impression that he was handsome. Tonight, she’d been too busy with Max to actually study the man who’d gallantly responded to her appeal for help, but now she realized Mitchell Wyatt wasn’t merely handsome, he was absolutely gorgeous. He was about six feet three inches tall, with extremely broad shoulders, a muscular chest, and narrow hips. His face was tanned, his jaw square, his brows thick and straight above dark-lashed eyes that she already knew were a deep indigo blue.

  Normally Kate was unimpressed with exceptionally handsome men, because they were usually either vain and shallow or subtly effeminate, but this man was thoughtful and kind, and he was thoroughly male. Standing perfectly still in the living room, with his hands in his pockets, he positively emanated masculine vitality and sex appeal.

  All of those attributes, combined with his wry sense of humor and blasé sophistication, made Kate decide that he was, in every respect, the most attractive man she’d ever encountered. Glamorous, sophisticated women undoubtedly dropped into his arms when he crooked his finger at them, Kate thought with an inner smile. She, however, was neither glamorous nor very worldly, and for once she was rather glad of those shortcomings, because he wouldn’t be tempted to turn the full force of his charm and good looks on someone like her. The evening had already been nerve-racking enough without having to fend off halfhearted advances from a lethally attractive male. Belatedly realizing she’d been studying him for far too long, Kate stepped forward and announced her presence by saying the first thing that came to mind. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

  He turned at the sound of her voice; but instead of replying, he looked her over slowly from head to toe with a smile of frank masculine appreciation that was so flattering and unnerving to Kate that she had to concentrate on walking without tripping over her own feet. As his gaze traveled back up to her head, she braced for a suggestive compliment.

  “Your curls are all tamed down tonight,” he observed mildly. Kate’s nervous misgivings evaporated in a relieved laugh.

  “I tortured them into submission with a flat iron and blow dryer,” she said, stopping beside him. “How’s the patient doing?” she asked, bending down to lightly scratch behind Max’s ears. Her fingertips encountered a light dusting of a powdery substance that hadn’t been on him before, and she noticed more of it on the white carpet around where he lay. Kate glanced uncertainly over her shoulder and held up her powdery fingertips. “Do you know what this is?”

  “Flea powder. I had housekeeping bring some in while you were changing clothes.”

  “Why do you think he has fleas?”

  “Because they were dragging him toward the door while I watched,” he said drily, as he grasped her arm, urging her up. “I’d stand back until that stuff does the job or you’ll be awake all night scratching behind your own ears.”

  Surprised and touched to discover he’d gallantly taken care of yet another problem for her, Kate straightened and looked searchingly at his handsome, tanned face. She’d been uneasy about him simply because he was outrageously good-looking, and she had an impossible impulse to tell h