Keep the conversation light, she reminded herself. Friendly. “You went from working as a foreign correspondent to writing travel articles for a small, regional magazine. Quite a change, wasn’t it?”
“Quite a step down, you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he studied her.
She felt as though she was being tested in some manner, and she didn’t like the feeling. She certainly wasn’t judging his choice of career. She was simply curious about why he’d made such a drastic change. “I’m sure you had your reasons for accepting your cousin’s offer,” she said somewhat stiffly.
“I did.” But he didn’t offer an explanation. Not that he owed her one, of course.
“So, what’s next?” she couldn’t resist asking. “Planning to move into management at the magazine or focus on that book idea?”
“Management doesn’t interest me. I have some other projects I’m considering. Nothing definite at the moment, though whatever I do, I’m sure I’ll still be writing. That’s my real passion.”
Interesting. She would like to hear all about Dan’s, um, passions, she thought, clearing her throat. She should probably change the subject—after all, none of this was any of her business—but she couldn’t resist trying to learn just a bit more about him. “Do your parents still live in Alabama?”
“Yes. They live in Hoover, not far from my cousin’s place.”
She remembered his hint that his parents weren’t particularly proud of him. At least, that was the way she’d interpreted his ambiguous comment at the cafe. Was it because of the restless spirit he’d alluded to? If so, how sad that he didn’t feel as if he had his parents’ support. No matter what they’d endeavored, she and her siblings had always had the security of knowing they had their mother’s and each other’s full encouragement, even if their father had been conspicuously absent. “How do they feel about your globe-trotting?”
“My parents haven’t been pleased with any of my choices since I hit my teens,” he answered drily.
She frowned, sensing old resentment in his words, despite his attempt at a joking tone. “Then they must be very hard to please,” she said quietly.
He sighed. “They are. In a nutshell, my parents never particularly wanted kids. They hired a series of nannies to raise me after they had me, then they wanted me to fall in line and do everything they wanted once I was old enough for them to take an interest in me. I’m trying to keep up a relationship of sorts with them, but it still isn’t easy. And I’m not even sure why I’m telling you all this. I guess spending time with you and your siblings this evening has made me think about my own very different family.”
She bit her lip, not quite sure what to say.
Dan frowned suddenly and looked beyond her. “That’s enough about me. Is that a ghost I see over there by the trees?”
She was startled into turning to look.
He laughed. “You had to check, didn’t you? Maybe you put more credence in the old legend than you think.”
She frowned at him. Obviously, he wanted to change the subject, but she couldn’t say she appreciated the way he’d gone about it. “Very funny.”
He chuckled again, then motioned toward a little wrought iron bench near the fountain, a look of question on his shadowed face. After only a brief hesitation, she sat on one end, and he took the seat beside her.
As he had earlier that day, he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. And just as she had before, she felt a little ripple of electricity radiate from that light contact. Water splashed against the stone fountain, providing a musical score for the singing nightlife. Small spotlights were trained on the cascade, making the water glitter as it fell, causing the shadows to dance on the walkway. The fragrant scents of the garden enveloped the little bench, enclosing her and Dan in a cozy little bubble. It was too easy to forget that an inn full of people was only a few yards away. Entirely too easy to forget that she’d known this fascinating man on the bench with her for only a few hours.
His voice was a sexy rumble in her ear. “You really have no sense of whimsy, Kinley?”
She cleared her throat, trying to bring herself back to reality. “So I’m told.”
He slid his hand very slowly along the line of her jaw, then traced her lower lip with one fingertip. He was free with his touches—yet from Dan, she didn’t mind at all. Perhaps because she sensed that all it would take was a signal from her and he would back off immediately. A signal she didn’t particularly want to give at the moment.
“Do you agree with that assessment?”
“Pretty much. That’s just the way I am. I believe in what I can see and touch—and prove with my ledger sheets,” she said in an attempt at a jest, even though her heart was suddenly beating so quickly in response to his light caress that it made her voice emerge a bit breathlessly.
“Not very romantic,” Dan chided, his smile gleaming in the shadowy light.
“I guess I’m just not the romantic type.”
“No?”
“No,” she whispered.
He leaned his head down to hers as he studied her, his smile so close to her mouth that her parted lips longed to taste him. God, she thought dazedly, when was the last time she’d sat beside a man who made her toes curl?
Much, much too long.