After the screen had gone dark, Mina swallowed hard, thinking that he might stay just as blank.
Just as tough to read and connect to as ever.
Hours later, Mina was still unsettled by her meeting with Chet. But, like most women who appreciated a good resort, she was hoping that some spa time might ease her mind.
Currently, she was wallowing in one of the thick, white terry cloth robes the facility provided as she navigated the circular indoor path that branched off into the private massage rooms. The hallway was dim, lit only by stone lanterns, with soothing music piped in through hidden speakers.
So far, she’d steered clear of the many massages on the menu—the tempting “desert rain shower” or hot stone or aromatherapy treatments. Mina had claimed to be too busy with tomorrow night’s local event and had asked the rest of her staff to report their own experiences to her because, although she knew that pregnant women could get massages, she didn’t want to tell a masseuse about her condition before Chet—or any of her friends and family—knew.
It just seemed wrong.
Instead, she’d decided to concentrate on the facials that the spa offered, today choosing one that used pearl powder to lend “luster to the skin,” as the menu had said.
It’d done the trick, all right, and she was relaxed as she entered the Paradise Room, an area with a rock pool, a waterfall and a seductive, serene air so she could wind down before going back to work.
But, with a smile, she told herself that this was her work.
Best job in the world.
Water played against the pool’s surface as it splashed from the rocks above. Mina took off the robe, tossing it over a nearby deck chair. She was wearing a one-piece suit that she’d plucked from the resort’s gift shop stock—a modest light blue number that flattered and clung to her still basically normal curves.
Then she gave in to the lure of the room, breathing in the fresh, orange-blossom aroma.
Paradise.
But there was always a catch to it, and when she heard her phone go “ding,” she knew she’d gotten a text message to interrupt her.
Since she was on the clock, she had to look.
But it was just from Mom. Then again, Mina had been expecting this after her chat with Katie.
A little birdy tells me you had a cowboy in your cabin.:)
Good heavens, it hadn’t taken that long for the little birdy to spread the news. Thank goodness Mina had already decided it was permissible to let her family in on what was going on just as gradually as she was doing for Chet.
She texted back.
Don’t get excited, Mom.
Her mother, who had fingers faster than any texting teen, came back with,
Well, if it was someone to get excited about, you know that he’d always be welcome for dinner.
Mina shook her head, laughing a little.
I’ll keep that in mind.
Love and kisses.
And she put the phone away, absently brushing her tummy at the same time. Even if they overstepped at times, her baby was going to have a family who loved him or her. Her mom and dad would help in any way they could, if worse came to worse and she lacked for anything as a single mom.
But she wouldn’t. Mina had to have faith in Chet…and in herself if things didn’t work out with him. She wasn’t naive enough to con herself into thinking single parenthood would be easy, but she would be prepared, just in case.
She slipped into the cool pool, sighing, letting the murmur of water make its hushed way into the very core of her. Going under the surface, she came back up again, steeped, cleansed.
Climbing out, she sat on the ledge, kicking her feet and listening to the Native American flute playing on the hidden speakers.
She smiled. This spa was going to be a big success for Chet, and she was content to be a part of what would heal him. But was that all it would take to make him whole again—the triumph of a project that was dear to his heart and pride?
When she heard someone else in the room, she stood to get a towel or her robe. But too late.
There he was—Chet. And he’d stopped in his tracks at the sight of her.
Instinctively, she rested her arm over her belly, hoping she could still hide her secret.
Just for a little while longer.
Chet felt as if the breath had been slammed out of him.
Mina…
Legs that seemed to go on forever, slim hips, breasts that cried out to be palmed by his hands.
Was she curvier than he remembered?
No. Yes. He wasn’t sure. He’d tried so hard to put her out of his mind that, right now, just by looking at her, his head was a mess, not settling on anything except for how much he craved her.
She snatched a robe off of a nearby chair, but it did nothing to douse the fire that was racing through him at lightning speed.
To feel her again. To be inside of her…