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sighed, stopped in her tracks and faced him. “A very large man decided to take a nap on my shoulder, and no amount of pushing and prodding and poking would wake him up. I was stuck in this insanely awkward position for two hours. I wonder if they have a chiropractor on the island.”

      Ethan stared at her.

      “What?” she asked.

      “You poked someone?”

      She sighed with heavy patience. “It was just with the eraser end of a pencil.” But, oh, how she had wanted to do so much more. “Little good it did. It only made him snore harder. And don’t even get me started with the lady on my right.”

      “Did you poke her, too?”

      “No, but I thought about it.” Mary pressed a hand to her lower back and stretched out her spine a little.

      “Wanted to tell you her life story?”

      “No. But that would’ve been okay, life story I could’ve handled. I can work up a good conversation with a stranger.” Her memory of the woman was pretty fresh and a wave of nausea hit her full-on. “No, this was a lack-of-deodorant thing.”

      Amusement played behind his eyes. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

      “Who asked you to?” she returned playfully, using every ounce of will to make herself start walking again.

      “You belonged in coach.”

      She gave him a mock bow. “I know that, Mr. Curtis. I’m an employee, and I’m cool with that. In work and in life I know who I am and where I belong, and I fully accept it.” She couldn’t help herself, the words just fell out. “Unlike other people.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked as they reached the railing.

      Only wanting to make a quick dig, not have a full-on fight, Mary glanced over the edge to the choppy sea below and tried to deflect. “Look at that water.”

      Ethan wasn’t having any of it. Not that she expected him to. “Don’t go all female on me, Mary.”

      Mary considered. “I don’t think that was as much female as it was passive-aggressive.”

      “Whatever it was, just say what you’ve got to say,” he said impatiently.

      She exhaled and turned to face him. “This is just a thought, but maybe if you’d stop trying to be something you’re not, you could actually enjoy your success. Maybe you wouldn’t have to resort to blackmailing people into doing what you want. They might come willingly.”

      He grinned then, his gaze moving lazily over her. “If I remember correctly you came very willingly.”

      “Don’t be crude.”

      He shrugged, looking like a bad little boy. “I was talking about coming to work for me. But I like where your dirty mind goes, Ms. Kelley.”

      “If you remember correctly, working for you was something I fought tooth and nail.”

      “I remember you giving in pretty quickly, actually, as though you wanted to be as close to me as I wanted to be to you.”

      Were they always going to end up here? Mary wondered. Bantering back and forth, both wanting to out-smart and outplay the other. And to what end…? It was only a few more days. “All I’m saying is that if you’d accept who you are and where you came from maybe you could be happy.”

      “Who says I want to be happy?”

      “Everyone’s looking for happiness, in some form or another.”

      “Not me.”

      She ignored him. “The problem is you’re going about it the wrong way.”

      He gave his back to the water and lounged against the railing. “And you know the way to true happiness, Mary?”

      No, but…“I’m trying. I’m sure as hell trying.” She cocked her head to the left to look at the island as it came into view and felt a searing pain in her neck. She groaned.

      Ethan cursed softly. “You can hardly turn your head.”

      “I’m fine. Nothing that a hot shower and a massage won’t cure.”

      He touched her shoulder. “You know, I’d offer to help you with both of those forms of physical therapy, but—”

      “But you pretty much hate me right now,” she answered, trying to ignore the heat from his hand.

      “Nope, that logic doesn’t matter so much for a guy.”

      She tried to look shocked, but laughter quickly bubbled in her throat. “Okay, so what is it, then? You can’t help me take a shower because I can’t stand you?”

      He considered this for about two seconds. “Ah…no. A guy can get past that sad fact, too.”

      She laughed again.

      His voice lowered to a sexy timbre. “And you don’t hate me, Mary.”

      His arrogance and unflinching confidence could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, especially when his assumptions were right on target. “Well, so what is it, then? Don’t tell me you won’t assist my shower time out of some misplaced sense of duty.”

      “No.” He faced the coming island and looked pensive. “I’m just afraid it might make me happy, and as I said, I’m not looking for that.”

      The Birches was an authentic 1890s Queen Anne Victorian, and when Mary first stepped inside the entryway, she thought she’d fallen asleep and woken up in a dream—or at the very least a movie. The nine-bedroom, six-bath original Victorian had beautifully restored hardwood floors, luscious paneled ceilings, three fireplaces, extensive property, and from the wraparound porch, a panoramic view of the Straits of Mackinac, Round Island, Mackinac Bridge and the Grand Hotel.

      She couldn’t even imagine how much it cost to rent such a place. Harold, the real estate agent Ethan had used for their trip, gestured gleefully around himself. “Here we are, Mr. Curtis. Beautiful home, isn’t it.”

      “Nice,” Ethan said unenthusiastically as he checked his Blackberry.

      Poor Harold looked so dejected that Mary felt compelled to offer up her best smile. “Well, I think it’s lovely.”

      He gave her a grateful look. “It was rumored that Rudolph Valentino and Nita Naldi stayed here at one time.”

      “Really?”

      “Right after Blood and Sand.”

      “Wasn’t Valentino married?”

      Harold nodded and said conspiratorially, “To two women, actually. He hadn’t yet divorced the other.”

      “I hate silent films,” Ethan muttered, checking his e-mail.

      Mary rolled her eyes at Harold. “So, where am I staying?”

      Before Harold could even open his mouth, Ethan jumped in with, “I arranged for you to have the house next door.”

      “What?” Mary looked from Ethan to Harold and back again. “A whole house? Come on, Curtis. I thought I’d just get a hotel room close by.”

      Harold cleared his throat, his neck growing as red as a ripe tomato as he tried to make eye contact with Ethan. “Actually, sir, we had an emergency, and the family staying there had to remain on. But,” he said, brightening, “we have a lovely suite for Ms. Kelley across town at the Mackinac Inn.”

      “That will be fine,” Mary said pleasantly, but she could feel Ethan already shaking his head.

      “No, it won’t,” he informed her. “We have work to do, and you need to be here. Across town…” he said in a tone that sounded as though she were going to stay somewhere in Paris.

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