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“You’re blushing, Katarina. What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“It’s been an unusual couple of days. I still can’t believe we ended up performing CPR,” I say, trying to regain my composure.

“I contacted the hospital earlier, and while they couldn’t give out any information, I was able to leave a message for Mrs. Trennor to call me back. The couple is from Texas and on vacation for the week. She told me her husband required three stents to open arteries to his heart. It sounds like he is recovering nicely, though,” he says.

“That’s wonderful news, Chase,” I say.

“I thought so too, but you still haven’t answered my question. We were talking about your blush,” he says.

“I’m still a little embarrassed that not only did you have to take over CPR, but had to see me back to my room because I couldn’t even manage that.”

He looks at me with mild amusement. “Katarina, rest assured … it was the highlight of my evening.”

I’m finding it hard to shift my eyes from his gaze. Maybe it’s just the wine, but everything about this man is appealing and playing havoc with my senses. The band is playing a slow, steady number and Chase stands up.

“Katarina, come and dance with me,” he says, gently guiding me with one hand at the small of my back to the dance floor. The song playing is a musical number combining guitar, piano and drum in a much different way than most genres. It is sultry and romantic, and I find myself playing the piano keys in my head as the song progresses. I’m acutely aware of his hand still on the small of my back while his other hand finds mine, effortlessly guiding me to the sensual beat. He is an active and competent dancer, drawing me close and pressing my face into his muscular chest. I can smell the fresh scent of soap through his clothing and feel the beat of his heart as we move.

I’m keenly aware that my own heart is racing, and I wonder if he can tell the effect he is having on me. Our eyes lock, and he holds mine captured under the intensity of his gaze. His hand leaves mine, gently pushing the curl hanging near my eyes out of my face, pulling me closer as we continue drifting across the floor. He keeps his arm firmly around my shoulders as one song ends and the next begins.

When the set ends, he has our drinks replenished and tells me about the band that is playing and some of the other island entertainment, before leading me back onto the dance floor. I lose myself in the rhythmic music, enjoying the slow song selections and the feel of his body close to mine. In between sets he orders a meal of keri keri, a boiled and flaked fish which has been highly seasoned and accompanies an island salad. The meal is enjoyable and light, and as soon as the waitress has cleared our table we are back on the dance floor. As they begin to wrap up for the night, I am acutely aware that I miss the feel of his arms around me and sense the warmth rise to my cheeks.

“Katarina, you have a lovely blush. I’ll walk you back to your suite. It’s getting late,” he says.

I feel a keen sense of disappointment that the night is over as we make our way back to the Mayan Tower elevators. “Chase, do you know what the blinking lights over the ocean are? I thought they were vessels coming to shore earlier, but they’re still out there.”

“They are coming from the lighthouse. You really should see some of the historical sites while you’re here. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and show you around the island.”

“I have to admit it would be great to see some of the sights while I’m here. I have a few things to complete before Monday, but I can finish relatively quickly tonight and still have time to go out tomorrow,” I say.

The elevator stops and with a hand on the small of my back he guides me towards my suite. This time, I have my key card out and quickly insert it into the door to gain access.

“I enjoyed the evening very much, Katarina. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning. I’m looking forward to showing you around the island,” he says, brushing a wisp of hair off of my cheek, before leaving me to return to the elevator.

CHAPTER THREE

I’ve missed a coupleof messages and a call from Jenny. I text her that I was out for the night and will call her tomorrow, still thinking about the evening. She’ll never believe that I was out dancing with someone until all hours of the night. I can hear her now.Who are you and what’d you do with my friend?I laugh at the thought and slip into my nightgown, curl up into bed, and begin reviewing emails to make sure things are ready for Monday. I reread Prestian’s note from earlier and try to decide whether I should send a polite response or not reply at all. Heisthe head of the company that has employed me. “It appears they will be participating. Now can you stop working? If not, I will need to make good on my earlier threat.” I resist the temptation to email a sarcastic comment back and opt instead for a brief note letting him know that I am finished working for the evening. I close my Mac and slide into the luxurious linens and find myself dreaming of dancing with a man with dark penetrating green eyes and a steady heartbeat.

I wake to the sound of the alarm in the morning with a sense of excitement and anticipation of the day. I make some coffee in the kitchenette and decide to work for a while before Chase arrives. I pull up the project charter sent to me by Brian, chief operating officer at Prestian Corp. He’s very thorough, and I’ve enjoyed working with him on preparation material in the last few weeks. I update the charter to include patient experience data, metrics and a summary of my analysis before sending it back to Brian and his team.

***

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

The charter appears well put together, and the additions add a significant amount of depth. I’ll take a look at it a little later in the day and add the known risks from a cultural and political perspective, along with the mitigation strategies. There will be significant pushback to the changes in the delivery of healthcare that have been proposed. In fact, it may become very unpleasant until we push through the status quo and necessary changes.

P.S. It is Sunday. Why are you working?

C. H. Prestian

Chief Executive Officer, Owner

Prestian Corporation

***

To:[email protected]