Fanged Love - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,42
man when you’re planning on doing business together?”
That joyous flutter in my heart, the one that was there when I woke up this morning, dies with a sputter. She’s right. It’s a terrible idea. Things could go sideways and the deal could blow up. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll keep it professional. I promise.” But as soon as those words leave my mouth, I already feel like I’ve gone back on my word, like it’s a forgone conclusion I’m going to be with that man. And yes, I know I hardly know Boz, but these glimpses into his honest, generous heart have me wanting to spend more time with him.
No. You can’t blow this, Stella. You can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my knees locked together. No entry, handsome.
“Thank you, honey. And good luck tonight. Tell Mr. Bozhidar we’re very excited to see what he comes up with.”
Suddenly, I’m wondering if my mom should go instead. She’s the one with the nose. My heart instantly protests. I have to see him. I’m drawn to that place and to that man.
Maybe tonight I’ll figure out how to break his hold, because it can only lead to a bad situation. A man like that—rich, smart, generous, and hot—is single for a reason: Because he wants to be. And I’m not going to risk this important venture for a fling, especially when I have zero interest in those. Pursuing anything with Boz will only lead to heartbreak.
That evening, just before seven, I head across the road to the castle. It’s a bit of a climb up the driveway to the front door, but it’s a warm evening, and I need to work off some of the anxiety that’s been building all day in my stomach. I know what I have to do. I know what’s right. This partnership is the difference between my family’s survival or losing everything.
I walk up the long, cobblestone driveway at a brisk pace. My gaze flashes to the window on the top floor. Part of me hopes to find the silhouette of a tall, strong man watching me, but it’s empty.
I sigh, but tell myself it’s good. Very good. There can’t be any more of those longing glances from across the room and little flirtations.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Hello!” a man’s voice calls out from behind me just as I pass the moat.
I stop and turn, thinking it’s probably some tourist who’s lost. We have tons of people who come from all around the world to visit the valley and the wineries. People get turned around all the time. And, oddly enough, the GPS doesn’t always work in this area. It’s like a chunk of road is simply missing from all the electronic maps. It’s no big deal since both wineries have big signs out, and it’s not like anyone’s going to miss the huge castle at the top of the hill, but it is strange.
“Hi,” I say. “Can I help you?” The man is wearing thick glasses and a very unusual outfit—a long brown trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat made from straw. First of all, it’s pretty warm out this evening. Second, why wear a summer hat with a winter coat? Oh well.
“Yes, yes. Thank you. I’m from the local water conservation agency. I’m doing surveys about the various wineries and was wondering if you could answer a few questions about your neighbors.”
Huh. That’s odd. How does he know I live across the road? And all of the wineries are strictly regulated in the valley in terms of water usage. The county monitors compliance to usage limits and conservation law; for example, we’re only allowed to water our plants at certain times of the day. Once a year, an inspector comes out to make sure all our sprinklers and irrigation systems are functioning properly. But that’s usually in the early spring. “I’m sorry, but who did you say you work for again?”
He pushes his thick glasses up his nose. “The water conservation agency. We’re a private group. We monitor the wetlands. You know, for bird and animal migration. I’m in charge of tracking nocturnal species. Have you noticed any unusual wildlife activity at night? Animals being eaten? How about bats? Have you seen bats on your neighbor’s property?”
Okay. This dude is cuckoo. We have no wetland in this area, and I don’t like his beady eyes. “I’m sorry. I really couldn’t say. You’ll have to ask them.” I turn and continue on my way, walking even