The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(58)

The front door opens and a man comes into view. He’s wearing a white uniform that looks like scrubs. He’s elderly, perhaps in his sixties. “Hello Mr. Miles.” He speaks in a strong accent. His hair is dark and he’s quite handsome for his age.

“Hello.” Elliot shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“My name is Henley and I’m the caretaker of Brogana. Welcome.”

Elliot gestures to me. “This is Kathryn.”

“Hello.” I smile and I shake his hand.

“Come in, come in.” He gestures to the house as he walks in; we follow him inside and my breath is stolen.

“Wow,” I whisper in awe.

Elliot’s face breaks into a broad smile as he looks around. Everything is white and the furnishings are a dark timber, in the antique style. There are huge rugs in bold colors and abstract art is hung. The entire back wall is glass bi-fold doors with a breathtaking view over the beach and sea. A huge deep-blue infinity pool is by the deck. This place is out of this world.

“There’s a private track through that gate that leads down to the beach,” Henley says as he gestures to an antique-looking gate to the left. “The bedrooms, bathrooms, and gymnasium are down the corridor and you have twenty-four-hour room service—there are staff in the quarters on the property that are at your beck and call. If there is anything that you need, please just ring the bell.” He hands a remote to Elliot. “I hope the property is to your standard, sir.”

Elliot nods. “It’s lovely, thank you.”

Henley smiles and nods with a bow. “I will leave you alone, sir.”

“Thank you.” I smile as excitement fills me.

“Henley,” Elliot says, “can you tell me a good restaurant to eat at tonight?”

He smiles kindly. “Of course, sir, what do you feel like eating?”

Elliot’s eyes come to me. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

My stomach flips; I love it when he calls me that. “You pick, Henley, surprise us.” I smile. “I like everything.”

Henley nods. “Very well, Kathryn, what time?”

“Um . . .” I look between them.

Elliot glances at his watch. “Perhaps in an hour and a half.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll notify you of the booking once I’ve made it.” Henley walks out and closes the door behind him.

Elliot takes me into his arms. “Seven days here.” He smiles down at me.

“I know.” I stand on my toes to kiss his big, beautiful lips. “I’m not sure I can cope with such torture.”

“Well,” Elliot replies. “I hope you like eating goat’s testicles for dinner.”

My face falls in horror. “He wouldn’t.”

“Rule number one in traveling, Kate.” He kisses me again. “Never say you like every food.” He taps me on the nose. “Because trust me, you don’t.” He turns and wheels our suitcases up the hallway toward our room and I smile after him.

“I like your balls,” I call. “And you’re a bit of a goat.”

He laughs out loud and it’s deep and happy and it rumbles deep in my psyche. I smile goofily as he reappears and sees my face. “What’s that look for?”

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

He raises his eyebrow. “For a goat, you mean?”

“Yes.” I giggle. “For a goat.”

The fairy lights twinkle overhead and I smile across the table at my dreamy date.

Thankfully we are eating seafood, not a goat’s ball in sight.

The conversation is smooth and witty and never seems to run dry; it’s so weird, Elliot and I really do get along very well. We laugh and talk and everything feels very organic between us. There’s a lot more to us than steaming hot sex . . . even though there does seem to be a lot of that.

Not that I’m complaining.

It’s a clear night in a beautiful outdoor terrace restaurant.

“You know, I think this would be one of the hardest jobs on earth,” I say as I crack open a crab claw.

“What would be?” Elliot says as he concentrates on the task at hand.

“Being a fisherman. Out in the elements, sun and wind. Never knowing what kind of catch or day it would be.” I put some shells into the dish provided.

“You’ve got to be kidding, sounds like the best job in the world to me. No suit, no pressure.” He pops some crab into his mouth. “No office assholes.”

I stop eating as I stare at him. “You know, you really are a surprise. You’re nothing like I thought you’d be.”

Amusement flashes across his face as he sips his wine. “Don’t be deluded, Kate, I’m everything that you thought.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m in holiday mode and it’s seven days.” His eyes hold mine.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I can’t give you more than seven days.”

Why the fuck would he say that?

I stare at him for a moment and then I continue to crack my crab claw with my pliers. It feels like he’s giving me a warning.

“When was your last girlfriend?”

“Years ago.”