Wes grabbed a soda. Painting in the sun had made him thirsty.

No, correct that. Staring at Kenna painting in the sun had made him thirsty.

And hot as hell. It wasn’t that she knew what she was doing and was art in motion to watch.

It was that she didn’t know what she was doing and was a disaster in motion to watch.

She’d looked so adorable in her fierce concentration, with her lip between her teeth, her eyes narrowed, paint splattered all across the front of her short dark-blue denim skirt and bright-red tank top and matching sandals.

He figured out about thirty minutes in, why he couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was because she painted as she appeared to do everything else in life. No matter if she knew what she was doing or not, she jumped in with both feet, with no hesitation…with all her heart.

“Lyssa and Debbie asked when you’re coming back,” Sarah said to Kenna. “They liked talking to you.”

She’d been here, talking to the kids?

“Right,” she said with a laugh. “They said that, that they’d liked talking to me about smoking and smart choices.”

“Well, not in those words,” Sarah acknowledged. “They said they thought you were ‘tight.”’ She lifted a shoulder. “I just translated for you.” Sarah patted her hand. “They liked you, said you didn’t preach.”

Kenna laughed. “I don’t have much to preach about.”

“You’d make a great role model,” Wes said. When both women looked at him, he opened his mouth to say more, but Josh, who’d turned on the water to wash his hands, squirted Sarah.

A very wet Sarah laughed. “Oh, you’re going to pay,” she promised Josh, and reached into her cup of soda for the ice cubes. “Big.”

Josh ran into the house, followed by Sarah, and Wes laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Kenna asked him.

“My brother’s about to get his ass kicked.”

“So are you.” She brought her hand out from behind her back and used the paint brush she’d held to make a large diagonal line across the front of his white T-shirt. He was actually shocked enough to stand there, and she made another line, intersecting the first one so that he was marked with a large X.

Then she wisely whirled and ran. He went after her, but she swooped down for the hose and held it like a weapon.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

“Oh, I’m thinking. I’m always thinking.” She lifted the hose and squirted him.

The first thing he did was gasp for breath, as the water was icy. Then he took off his glasses and swiped at his eyes. Water dripped off his nose while he tried to blink the blurry, feisty, laughing woman into view.

She squirted him again, in the chest this time, making him gasp again as the cold water ran down to more vital areas.

Turning his head to the side to avoid the water in his eyes, he stepped forward into the spray and got lucky enough to grab the hose. “Kenna? You’re going to want to run from me now.”

With a squeal, she did.

Despite the fact he had to put his glasses back on to aim better, he was still much quicker than she. He decided squirting her was too easy so he tackled her down to the grass, making sure she got as wet as she’d made him.

The hard part came as his senses kicked in. He was sprawled over the top of her, both of them as wet as can be, their limbs entangled, their breath co-mingling…

Stunned to his very core at the sudden surge of affection and yearning that bubbled up, he stared down into her face.

Her smile slowly faded, too. Her fingers lifted, sank into his hair.

He tossed the hose aside and cradled her jaw, a thumb stroking her full bottom lip. He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. “You remember what happens when we’re this close.”

Her chest rose and fell more quickly now and she arched into him. “Yeah.” Her eyes were glossy with excitement, and also bafflement. “Wes. What are we doing?”

“Hell if I know.”

She went still, her eyes on his. “I can’t do this if we don’t know.”

Right. She couldn’t do this if he didn’t know. But he couldn’t if he did. Drawing a deep breath, he slowly moved to his feet, offered her a hand. “You’re a mess.”

Kenna searched his face, then slowly added a smile. “You’re a bigger one.”

Wasn’t that the truth.

15

AFTER THAT, Kenna spent whatever spare time she had at the Teen Zone. It wasn’t much because she worked hard at the hotel, harder than she could have ever imagined. But at Sarah’s, she could destress. She felt useful and she enjoyed the company. As for the kids…well, being with them did something for her, too, something deep inside. In a way she’d never imagined possible, she liked herself when she was there. She forgot her problems, and instead concentrated on others.

In fact, she felt far more…satisfied being there than she did at her paying job, which she knew she’d have to think about.

But with a good five months left on her verbal contract with her father, there wasn’t much she could do for now. She’d made a promise and didn’t plan to renege on it.

The days flew by, and before she knew it, the next board meeting was nearly upon them. It was to be held at the Los Angeles property, and all the management of all the hotels were required to attend. It was an overnight affair, but what had Kenna sweating was the actual meeting.

Wes had finished his report on the status of the new hotel. It was sharp, to the point and brilliant-she knew because he’d given her a copy. He’d also asked about her report, twice, but though they’d talked about it and what she was working on, she hadn’t yet showed him, because she hadn’t finished. In a move completely unlike her, she’d drafted three different versions and thrown each away.

But playing time was over. For days she’d been working, refusing to allow herself to delete a thing. She’d added up everything she’d considered wrong with the acquisition-the bonuses, for example-and then come up with what she considered better uses of that money, such as on-site daycare, referral services for various counseling needs and additional benefits such as employee discounts at sister hotels in other cities. She researched those costs and other choices as well.

On the morning before they all left for Los Angeles, Serena poked her head into Kenna’s office, looked around at the small, cramped space and shuddered. “You really do need a designer.”

“Hey, you’re the one who gave me this space.”

“It was a joke, dear cousin. You were supposed to get all pissy and demand a bigger place, and generally be a pain in your father’s ass so he’d think you weren’t worth the time he’d given you.”

“Ah.” Kenna couldn’t quite help her smile. “Bummer that I didn’t fall in line then, isn’t it?”

“Yes, so would you start paying attention while I’m manipulating you? Are you ready to go to L.A. or what?”

Kenna carefully gathered her papers and stapled them together. She was officially finished. “Yes.”

“You should know, tonight is the night I plan to try to coax Wes into bed. I requested a suite with a hot tub. Ever had sex in a hot tub?”

As Kenna didn’t care who Wes slept with, she firmly contributed her sudden stomachache to hunger. “Nope.”

“It’s an amazing experience.”

Okay, she cared. Slapping down her stapler, she looked up into Serena’s smug face. “And I want to hear this because?”

“Because you’re not getting sex in a hot tub tonight.”

“What about Josh?”

Serena’s smile vanished. “What about him?”

“I think there’s something between you two.”

“Bite your tongue. He’s a computer nerd.”

“He’s smart and funny. You’d be good for each other. You’d soften his rough edges and he’d-” He’d soften yours. “He’d love you just as you’ve always wanted to be loved.”

“You’ve been drinking, right? A little Bloody Mary with breakfast?”

“I mean it.”

Serena took a step backward. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve seen you, Serena, when you didn’t realize…and you know what? You watch him. He watches you, too.”

Looking shell-shocked, Serena sank to a chair. “He wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“Are you on crack? The guy has a serious crush, Serena.”

“But…I’ve not been particularly kind.”

“Well, start.”

“But I like my not-particularly-kind self.” Serena stood. “Besides, we’re not suited at all, of course we’re not. Wes is the man for me.”

She was gone before Kenna could say a word, not that she’d say the only words that might have stopped her cousin.

The words that said maybe, just maybe, Wes was the man for Kenna.


KENNA ENTERED the fabulous Los Angeles Mallory two hours later, at eleven o’clock. The place was a palace of glass and exotic plants, with amazing lighting, and again, the trademark antiques everywhere.

But Kenna didn’t see any of that as she checked in. Because her report was burning a hole in her bag, and because the meeting wasn’t until four, she asked which room Wes was in. Then she dropped her things off in her room-all except her report-and immediately went back out again. It was time to talk to him.

In front of Wes’s door, she drew in a deep breath, glanced at her watch and knocked.

“Hang on,” he said through his door. After a minute it opened a crack. No glasses in sight, he peered out, squinting. “Kenna?”

He wore only a towel, which was a bit of a shock. His hair and body were damp. A drop of water ran down his throat to his chest. Another drop slid over his ribs to the flattest belly she’d ever seen, dipping into his belly button before continuing its trail lower, disappearing into the towel to regions hidden.

At the thought of those regions, her knees actually knocked together.