Arguments

“Is this some kind of joke? You’re going to just forget about it, just like that?”

He looks angry and I understand, but I can’t do anything else. If I let what I’m beginning to feel for him interfere with my work, I’ll end up making a mistake I’ll regret later. I owe it to my father and to the task he entrusted me with.

“And what do you want me to do, Haven? I’m not going to—”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” he interrupts.

“As if you ever gave me a choice every time we ran into each other,” I scoff.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was fine as long as you had nothing to do with what I came here to do, but now I can’t keep this up.

I’m not going to mix business and pleasure—I told you that when I still didn’t know who you were, and I’m telling you again now with even more reason. ”

“Well, at least we agree on something.” He still looks annoyed.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“We both agree it’s pleasurable. I was starting to think you’d been faking it.”

“That’s all I needed.” I throw my hands up. “Don’t be childish, Haven. My request has nothing to do with what I feel or don’t—”

“Request?” he interrupts. “You’re practically demanding that I forget about you. I wouldn’t call that a request, morena.”

“Forgive me for wanting to keep this whole thing strictly professional,” I protest.

“Fine.” He takes a step toward me and I take one back.

“Try to maintain your… professionalism, Debra, but don’t expect me to stand on the sidelines.

I intend to try at every opportunity I get until you fall again.

You attract me too much and I can’t be in the same room as you without wanting to hold you in my arms, so don’t blame me if I try. ”

“That’s not—” I retreat as he insists on advancing toward me again.

“That’s what I’m going to do, morena,” he cuts me off once more. “And you can try to stop me anytime you like.”

He corners me against the wall and my breath hitches when I feel his chest against mine.

If he doesn’t cooperate, keeping apart will be impossible because the temptation is too strong and the attraction we feel is uncontrollable.

I close my eyes when his lips brush mine with deliberate slowness.

He’s trying to seduce me and he’s succeeding effortlessly.

Just as he said, he’ll make me fall. And I fear he’ll manage it every time he wants, no matter what I say to the contrary.

“Haven…” His name escapes my lips, more sigh than protest, and I feel him smile against my mouth.

I should be angry at him for knowing how to manipulate me so easily, but the fault is mine for not being able to deny him anything.

For wanting the same thing he does. I hate myself for not being stronger, but I do nothing to stop him from kissing me.

My words have just gone down the drain along with my actions, but right now I don’t even care.

“Haven!” A woman’s voice calls him from outside and we break the kiss just as someone enters the room. “Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Mattie.” He seems surprised to see her. “What are you—what are you doing here? My father gave everyone the day off.”

“I thought we could do something together.” She only gives me a quick glance as she approaches Haven with a sway of her hips and wraps her arms around his neck in a way that’s affectionate, even possessive—as if marking territory.

“I went to your house looking for you, you know? I miss you, sweetie.”

That pet name is enough to tell me I’m in the way.

I feel stupid watching her kiss his neck while he watches me, his eyes silently begging me not to leave.

My pride tells me to stay, not to show how much what I’m seeing is affecting me, especially after I said we needed to end things; but my common sense wants me to get out before I’m humiliated in front of both of them. This time I opt for a timely retreat.

“See to your guest, Mr. Odell,” I say, maintaining the professionalism I should have shown from the beginning.

His eyes widen when he sees me pick up my bag from the table and sling it over my shoulder as if I couldn’t care less that there’s a woman hanging from his neck.

“I’ll continue the tour when the workers are present, which is what I wanted from the start.

Thank you for your time.” I look toward the woman. “Pleasure meeting you, Matilda.”

I turn and stride purposefully toward the door without waiting for her to respond—which I doubt she would, given the triumphant smile I spot on her lips. My pride is mad at me right now for leaving, but I know it’ll survive. Sometimes it’s better to let things be.

I hear footsteps behind me as I reach the front door, but I don’t stop because I can guess who it is and I don’t want to face him again. I’ve had enough for today. So I hurry to make it to the exit before he can stop me.

“Debra.” Haven grabs my arm. “It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t think anything. I observe, I study the data, and I make decisions.

I’ve seen that you deceived me by hiding who you were and I was willing to believe your reasons for not telling me, but now I see there’s a woman in your life—whether permanent or passing—that you never told me about either.

I no longer know if you lied to me on purpose or because you didn’t think knowing the truth was relevant—which it is—but now I need to process all this information and I have to do it away from you so I can be objective.

When I’ve decided something, I’ll let you know. ”

“But you don’t have all the information.”

“I didn’t say I’d make the decision today.” I free myself from his grip. “I can’t process any more information right now, Haven.”

“I—”

“I’ll get in touch with your father for the next visit, and I expect him to be present this time. Enough games—I didn’t come here to destroy your world, but to help you take it into the future. I’m not the enemy.”

“Debra,” he calls again when he sees me resume walking. I stop and look at him. “Have dinner with me tonight. Let me explain everything, please.”

“Go be with Matilda.” I nod toward the woman watching us from a distance. She’s too far away to hear what we’re saying, but her expression almost makes me doubt it. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Please,” he pleads again.

“See you tomorrow, Haven.”

I return to the inn with such a mess in my head that I end up needing something for the pain. And I don’t even know why it affects me so much. After all, I’m the one who told him we needed to keep our distance. The fact that there’s now a woman in the equation should make things easier for me.

I know I should have let Haven explain, but I couldn’t bear it if his words failed to convince me or if I were left with any doubt about the role Matilda plays in his life.

I’m no coward, and I promise I’ll give him the chance to tell me about her, but not before his father signs.

I have to stay on the sidelines to remain objective.

I’ve messed up enough already and I don’t want to make more mistakes.

Business and pleasure have never been good bedfellows and I must not forget it. Although I fear this negotiation has already become too personal for me. Maybe I should ask my father to send a replacement, but my pride won’t allow it. I’ve never let him down and I don’t want to start now.

“Damn you, Haven,” I say, trying to wedge my body into the bathtub. “You and your insufferable attractiveness.”

Today more than ever I need this bubble bath, though it’s impossible to enjoy it because my legs are bent and the water doesn’t cover me completely.

The contrast between the water and the room temperature makes my skin prickle.

A walk would have helped, but I don’t want to run into anyone after the interrogation Ethel subjected me to when I arrived.

That woman is extremely intuitive and can sniff out gossip from miles away.

Before letting me go upstairs, she wanted to find out what had upset me so much and didn’t stop until I told her.

I lied, of course. I’m not proud of it, but it was the only way to get her off my back.

The last thing I want is for her to find out what’s happened between Haven and me.

It would be like standing in the middle of the town square and shouting it at the top of my lungs—everyone would know within minutes.

So it’s better she thinks the Odell son doesn’t seem willing to cooperate with me to close the deal either.

I close my eyes and cover them with a damp towel. I’d need to submerge my head underwater, but in this wretched bathtub it’s impossible. I could scream to release the stress, but I’m afraid Ethel might be lurking and hear me. I don’t think I could lie to her twice in the same day.

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

I fling the towel away and stand up, calling an end to the bath.

This is generating more stress than it’s relieving, honestly.

I wrap myself in a clean towel and wring my hair over the tub so it doesn’t drip on the floor, before heading into the bedroom in search of clean clothes.

On the way, I pause for a moment in front of the window to admire the mountains in the distance; I have a privileged view from here.

Then I see him. I don’t stop to think about what I’m wearing and open the window.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention.” He shows me his hands.

“Were you going to break the glass?” I look at him, frowning. “Because that’s what you’d have done if you’d thrown those rocks.”

“I couldn’t find smaller ones,” he assures me with a shrug.

“What are you doing here?” I ask again. I hope he doesn’t make me repeat it.

“I want to talk to you and if I just walk into the inn, you’ll probably get angry because they’ll think there’s something between us,” he speaks in a rush, as if afraid I’ll interrupt him.

Or reject him before he finishes. “I don’t mind, but I think that creates some kind of conflict for you.

And before you say anything, I’ll be staying right here until you come out.

Or I’ll come in if you plan to ignore me. Your call, morena.”

“Is that some kind of ultimatum?”

“It’s a threat.” We watch each other for several tense minutes until he smiles and speaks again: “By the way, you look stunning in that towel. I’d come up right now and—”

“Okay, shut up.” I barely manage to keep from shouting. “Give me ten minutes.”

I close the window and get dressed as fast as I can in workout clothes. They’re the least sexy thing I own and I hope they serve as a warning that we’re only going to talk, because if he stood up Matilda for me, the least he deserves is to be heard.

I head downstairs, hiding from Mrs. Delaney, and slip outside praying no one sees me.

I sneak around to the back of the inn and find Haven leaning against a tree in a relaxed pose, one foot propped against the trunk.

The moment he sees me, he straightens up and brushes off the back of his pants with his hands.

He no longer looks as composed as he was trying to appear, and that reassures me. I’ll take it as a good sign.

“Come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me along into the woods. Why do we always end up here?

His motorcycle is waiting on one of the dirt paths and we get on.

Once again, I have to trust him about where he’s taking me.

I know I should demand that he tell me, but secretly I enjoy being surprised.

Who even understands me anymore! I hold tight around his waist and he starts the engine.

I’m tempted to rest my head against his back, but I stop myself just in time—I don’t want him thinking he’s broken through my resistance once more.

“Where are we?” I can guess from the house sitting in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome to my home,” he says, before opening the door.

I hesitate to go in because I don’t want to be alone with him in his house. It’s not the best setting for just talking. I open my mouth to protest, but he nudges me inside and closes the door behind us. Now he’s wearing a satisfied grin that makes me harden my expression.

“I agreed to talk, Haven. Just talk,” I emphasize.

“We’ll talk,” he promises without dropping the smile, “but don’t blame me for hoping we can do something more afterward.”

“No.” I stop him when he advances toward me.

“I’m just going to take you to the kitchen.” He’s enjoying this and I hate him for it, because he manages to raise my walls with the same ease with which he tears them down. “I’m sure you still haven’t eaten. We can talk while we do.”

The double meaning of that last sentence doesn’t escape me, but when I walk into the kitchen, I forget my reproaches because I discover, to my amazement, a full-blown feast for two in a rather romantic setting.

It’s incredible how much time he devotes to surprising me.

I stop before reaching the table and take in every detail.

Did he do all this in two hours? Impossible.

“Did you make this by yourself?” I ask without looking at him. I’m not sure I want to break the magic of the moment by meeting his eyes.

“It’ll be worth the effort,” he whispers in my ear. His body is pressed against mine and he’s hugging me from behind. “I told you I’d make you fall, and I intend to follow through.”

“Haven…” I protest, turning toward him, but he won’t let me continue.

“But first, let’s eat.” He touches his lips lightly to mine. “Come on.”

He leads me to the table and pulls out the chair for me. Once I’m settled, he serves the food for both of us, a little of everything. I lick my lips internally because it all looks delicious. When he’s done, he walks around the table and sits across from me.

“First, we eat,” he says, “and then we talk. I promise.”

I don’t even hesitate to start on my plate because I’m starving and this smells amazing. Talking is secondary right now.