Free A Holiday Romance by Carrie Alexander Page A

professional distance. “Were you hurt? Were you offered medical attention? We have a doctor on staff. It’s no problem to—”
    “I’m fine. Still a little sore, but that’s all.”
    “You shouldn’t have been working in the kitchen.”
    “And we’re back to square one.” She chuckled. “Let it go, Kyle.”
    Surprisingly, he did. “What happened to ‘Mr. Jarreau’?”
    “You told me to call you Kyle, and I’ve decided I prefer it, too.”
    “Huh. And here I’d been thinking that ‘Miss Potter’ was rather intriguing.”
    “Tonight I’m just Alice.”
    “May I walk Alice to her door?”
    “Yes.” Anticipation ratcheted up her pulse, but when they reached the Raffertys’ condo, Kyle stepped away, instead of coming closer.
    “Sleep late,” he advised, all professional. “Call roomservice for breakfast. Or there’s a poolside brunch that serves till one.”
    “Maybe I’ll see you there?” At his silence, she explained, “Seeing as you’re up just as late—or early—as I am.”
    “I’m used to four or five hours’ sleep a night.” She’d almost convinced herself that there was regret in his voice when he added, “Besides, I rarely mingle with the guests.”
    And good night to you, Miss Potter.
    The Prince Montez Oasis Resort’s namesake Oasis Garden is a lush paradise of native flora and fauna all year-round.
    July 25
    Dear Sue,
    Boy, do I ever wish you were here! I have so much to tell you, including that I actually went hottubbing at 2:00 a.m. Such decadence. Too bad it was only me and my sore muscles! My condo has a spa in a private courtyard and I couldn’t resist after several very long days of activity, including horseback riding (I met a cowboy!), a nature hike and cake decorating (yes, you read that right). More later, I’m heading off to brunch now. Ah, the life of leisure…
    Much love to Mike and the kids,
Miss Potter (that’s what the staff calls me)
    “W HY ARE YOU so grumpy this morning?” Lani asked, coming in with Kyle’s coffee. She was dressed in a suit so yellow he wished he had his sunglasses. “I heardabout you firing the chef, but a dismissal’s never affected you like this before. Even that time with Daisy.”
    He sipped the coffee. Strong and black, sweetened with a hint of sugar. “I haven’t said two words. How do you know I’m grumpy?”
    “How long have I been your secretary?” Lani didn’t wait for an answer. “Three years and then some, ever since you were promoted from assistant manager.” She settled down with her cappuccino. “You think I can’t read your body language by now?”
    “You read me wrong. I’m just a little tired. I didn’t get my usual five hours.” Three nights in a row.
    “Mmm-hmm. I heard all about it. You were prowling the grounds at 2:00 a.m.”
    Kyle grunted. On any given morning, Lani stopped on her way to the office to chat with the doorman, the front-desk clerk, the housekeeping staff. She called them the PM grapevine. He called them her spies. But since he wasn’t above making use of their inside information himself, he could hardly complain when she turned the tool against him.
    “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I went for a late workout.”
    “Then why not sleep in? It wouldn’t kill you to come to the office after 7:00 a.m. once in a while.”
    “I couldn’t sleep this morning, either.”
    Lani’s lashes fluttered at him over the rim of her cup. “Insomnia?” she suggested with false innocence.
    “Huh.”
    The secretary grinned. She could even interpret his monosyllablic grunts.
    Kyle swiveled around to stare out the windows. After leaving Alice at her door, he’d gone back to the hotel with something other than blood charging in his veins.Not frustration, exactly, but whatever he’d felt, he hadn’t liked it. For one, he wasn’t in control. Worse, he’d overreacted. Alice bailing out the pastry chefs hadn’t been that big a deal. He’d come off as pompous and rigid—and she’d