Page 9 of Come Sail Away

Chapter Three

Harper dropped onto the sofa in the living area, placing her drink on the glass coffee table. Sully stopped by the bar—yes, the villa had a bar—and prepared himself a drink. A rum and coke, she thought. He joined her, taking a seat in an adjacent chair.

“I’m glad you came to the bar,” he said. “I don’t know why, but it was special to have you there.”

She lifted a shoulder, then let it fall. “We have history,” she said lightly.

“Do we?”

His voice had lowered provocatively. He must have been teasing her.

“Sure,” she answered. “I whacked you over the head with a book, remember?”

“How could I forget?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “But I don’t actually recall why.”

She smiled. “We were in Mr. Randleman’s science class. You answered a question incorrectly; I didn’t. Then you called me Sharper Harper in front of the entire class. I was hurt and furious. The science book was the closest thing to a weapon I had.”

“Oh…yeah.” He paused, looking at her. “I’m sorry I was insensitive.”

She stared at him, lifting her chin the slightest fraction. “I got over it.”

“That may be, but I was wrong.”

She gave a dismissive wave. “Okay, let’s change the subject. What did you do after high school?”

He downed half his drink. “I studied at the Tisch School of the Arts at NYU.”

She sat straighter. “Impressive. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I enjoyed those years…before it was about money and gigs and contracts.”

“Yeah, sometimes the real world sucks.”

He chuckled. A warm sound that made her heart race faster.

“So what happened between college and now?” she asked.

This time he emptied his glass, leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and rolled the glass between his hands. “I made some recordings that were hits. I’m in the midst of putting together my fifth album. There have been some specialty guest star performances… at Carnegie Hall, Boston’s Citi Performing Arts Center, and Kennedy Center Honors. I mean, my career is going well. I come down here once or twice a year, and as a favor to Lacey and Clay, I perform. It’s not really work when I’m here, though. The place is just so relaxing. And they have a terrific security team, so the rest of the time I have to myself. It’s a win-win for all of us.”

His humble tone touched a chord inside of her. Where was the boastful teen of their youth? “Sounds like life has been treating you well,” she said with a yawn, standing. She had to get out of this conversation before her heart did that melty thing again.

“It has.”

“I’m glad.” Her eyes held his for a long moment, again struck by his handsome good looks. Actually, his thirty-something appearance was somehow more striking than his younger self. She sighed. “Thanks for an incredible day. I’m going to bed.” She turned and headed for her bedroom before she could be drawn back in.

“Sure,” he said quietly. “See you in the morning.”

* * *

Sully rested his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He’d enjoyed having Harper at the show. More than he should have. Perhaps it was like she said and just because they had a history whereas everyone else there was a stranger simply wanting entertainment. Though on some level, he admitted, he knew he felt something for her. A stirring.

Thinking he was glad that he’d run into her today, he dozed off.

He awoke several times during the night. With one of those times, he moved to his bed. He rose before sunrise, showered, and made coffee. Even on the nights he did performances, he got up early the following day. He liked mornings.

Grabbing the paper the resort provided him, he took his mug out onto the patio that overlooked the beach. The sound of the surf was a peaceful backdrop, making him feel as though no matter what was happening in the world, everything was right with him.

Except his picture glared from the page, where he was featured in the social section, with a cluster of young women hounding him for autographs. It was last years’ news. So why did the reporter have to go there? Thank goodness most of the time he hung close to the resort. As long as he remained on Casa Blanca Resort & Spa premises, McBain’s security team did a spot-on job at keeping paparazzi out.