Confessions of a Girl-Next-Door Read Free

perhaps even a good dressing down. She was a princess,
    after all. And he was but the owner of a small, albeit well-tended, resort.
    But what he heard over the wind as Holly pushed to her feet was laughter. Unrestrained, boisterous laughter.
    “That was smooth, Nathaniel. Yes, indeed. Very smooth.” Grinning, she put out a hand, offering to help him up. She looked just then very much like the impish young girl who used to take such delight in playing pranks on him.
    Nate felt like an idiot, and he knew he looked ridiculous. That didn’t stop him from clasping her palm. Nor did it prevent him from joining in her mirth as he rose and shoved the hair back from his face. The situation
was
funny, even if it came at his expense.
    Behind them, Hank was chortling away, too. Nate groaned. His reputation was toast. Unless he got lucky and the storm took out the phone lines and closed the locals’ favorite tavern, news of this mishap would be the talk of the island before another sunset.
    “Sorry about that. I lost my footing.” As they reached the shore, he couldn’t resist adding, “I might have maintained my balance,
    but you’ve put on a few pounds since we were kids.”
    Holly turned. Her mouth formed an indignant
O
as she thumped his chest with one small fist. “A gentleman isn’t supposed to say such things to a lady.”
    Her words, even though they were said in jest, caused him to sober. She was more than a lady, she was a princess. Just that quickly, the gulf between their worlds gaped wide once more.
    Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “I’d better go and give Hank a hand.”
    It took no more than fifteen minutes for Nate and the pilot to pull the plane ashore and beach it. Just to be on the safe side, they used the trunk of a big cedar tree that leaned toward the lake as a mooring. The Cessna wouldn’t be going anywhere, despite the coming storm. Nate hoped the same could be said for all of the boats and the several large yachts moored at the resort’s marina. Time would tell.
    All the while, Holly waited patiently out of the way, soaked to the skin and shivering, but no complaints passed her lips. And he’d been expecting them. When her luggage was unloaded, her expression was one of chagrin.
    “Just how long are you here for?” Nate asked, eyeing the trio of designer bags.
    A pair of delicate shoulders rose in a shrug. “Perhaps as much as a week.”
    He ran his tongue over his teeth. “A week, hmm?” He could pack for a week in one small duffel, especially this time of year.
    “I wasn’t sure what I would need,” she said.
    For a moment he forgot that he was speaking to royalty. She was simply Holly. “Tank tops, shorts, a pair of comfortable walking shoes, maybe a hoodie for cool nights and a swimsuit would do.”
    “I packed those …. And a little bit more.”
    “So I see.”
    The contents of his closet could fit in those bags, but Nate decided to give her a break. After all, he’d been around enough women to know they had a whole different definition for the word
essentials
.
    She reached for the smallest bag. It had wheels, not that they would do much good on the sand. “Sorry to be an imposition.”
    An interesting choice of words, to be sure.
    “Where are you staying?” he asked.
    Her expression brightened. “I’d hoped torent the cottage Gran and I always stayed in at your parents’ resort.”
    “My parents are gone.”
    “Gone?” She looked alarmed.
    “Retired,” he clarified. “They moved to Florida four years ago.” Just after he’d returned to the island from a job at one of the swankiest hotels in Chicago.
    “The resort?”
    Normally, it would give Nate great satisfaction to claim ownership and to admit that he’d expanded the place considerably since taking over. But this was
Princess
Hollyn Saldani. He doubted she would be impressed.
    “I’m the owner now.”
    “Oh.” One syllable that told him how enthused she was, but he’d give her this, she