Andrea Laurence - The Pregnancy Proposition

He was a strange juxtaposition of traits that seemed incompatible in her mind. He had heavy, sharp eyebrows over his sunglasses, one with a scar that sliced through it. It made him look more like he should be an ancient warrior or in some badass motorcycle gang instead of the suit-clad owner of an exclusive hotel. Upon closer inspection, she could see that his forearm tattoo was of some kind of black triangle design. That sealed his bad-boy appeal in her mind. It also made her wonder what else his professional suit and polite demeanor were hiding.

Paige had always had a thing for the bad boys. It wasn’t practical, or really even smart, but most of the time they didn’t give her a second glance, so she couldn’t get herself in too much trouble. Wyatt had been the first bad boy to look back at her. Giving in to that attraction had landed her on the path to single parenthood. Even knowing that didn’t make her take the step back from Mano that she knew she should.

He never looked at her directly, but she could feel his attention completely fixated in her direction as though he knew she was admiring him. “Do you have plans this evening, Paige?”

Paige frowned. She really didn’t have plans for the week. The only thing on the books was the memorial service on Friday. “I don’t have plans at all. I figured I would talk to the concierge about booking a few things this week, but right now, I’m winging the whole vacation.”

“Are you the kind that normally wings a vacation?”

“God, no,” she admitted. “I’m a super planner, but this was a bit of a last minute adventure for me. I read some of a travel guide on the flight over, but that’s about it.”

“A last minute trip to Hawaii to stay in the penthouse suite, eh? There are worse things, I suppose.”

Well, she supposed that some people lived a life with random tropical vacations, but Paige wasn’t one of them. “I’m not complaining, that’s for sure. I do feel a little like I’m flapping in the trade winds, however. I’ll feel better once I have a plan.”

“Well, start your plans with having dinner with me tonight,” he said.

Paige narrowed her gaze at him, wondering if perhaps she’d heard him wrong. It was one thing for her to fantasize about him, but why would a Polynesian god like him want to have dinner with her? Was he just being polite because he knew she was here alone? “You want to have dinner with me?”

Mano chuckled and shoved his free hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Why is that such a ridiculous proposition? You eat, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, of course I eat. It’s just—”

“And you don’t have plans, do you?” he interrupted.

“No plans,” she confirmed reluctantly. She wasn’t sure why the idea of having dinner with him unnerved her so much. She should be relieved. This was one meal she could have with a man where she wouldn’t have to worry about him watching her critically across the table the whole time.

She could just imagine her family’s response if she told them she was having dinner with a blind man— “He’d be perfect for you!”

Perhaps that was the key to his interest. He didn’t know what she looked like. Her sister, Piper, had once suggested she try dating one of her blind patients. The helpful idea in Piper’s mind had only sounded cruel in her own head. Maybe her sister was on to something, though.

“Excellent. I’d love for you to join me tonight at the owner’s table of The Pearl. It’s our seafood restaurant and was rated as one of the best on the island the last five years running. You’ll love it.”

The owner’s table? That made more sense to Paige than the idea of a date or something, although she had to admit she felt a pang of disappointment that went straight to her core. This was some kind of “schmooze with the rich hotel guests” kind of thing. With her luck, he’d probably try to talk her into buying a time-share or something. Mano would certainly be disappointed to find out she wasn’t the usual wealthy penthouse guest. Of course, a nice dinner with him was certainly better than anything else she had planned, which was a big nothing all by herself.

“I can give you some suggestions on how to spend your time here,” he added almost as if to sweeten the deal, as though a free meal and looking at his handsome face all night wasn’t enough.

“Okay,” she said at last. “You’ve talked me into it.”

“I usually don’t have to try this hard to get a woman to have dinner with me,” Mano said with a wry smile. “I was about to be offended.”

Paige felt a blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just can’t fathom why you’d want to spend your evening with me.”

For the first time, Mano looked at her, as though he were looking into her eyes. Even with his gaze hidden behind his dark glasses, she felt an unexpected connection snap between them and her body reacted. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth as her lips dried out like a desert. Her heart started racing in her rib cage and she suddenly wished this dinner was more than just politeness and tourist tips.

“Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?” he asked.

Paige didn’t want to list out all her flaws. Normally, she didn’t have to tell a man what was wrong with her. They knew all too well just by looking at her. “You’re busy. And you don’t even know me,” she replied.

“Hōkū likes you. He’s the best judge of character I know. Anyway, by the end of dinner tonight, we won’t be strangers any longer. I’ll meet you at six.”

Paige stood dumbstruck on the lawn as Mano and Hōkū continued on their morning walk. She wasn’t quite sure how any of this had happened, but now she was having dinner with him. A bolt of panic shot through her, sending her on a fast path back to her hotel suite.

What was she going to wear?

* * *

“She’s traveling alone, sir. Her reservations were made and paid through a travel agency. I tried to Google her and I didn’t come up with anything but an obituary for her grandfather, who died a few weeks ago in Southern California. She doesn’t even have a Facebook account.”

Mano listened to Chuck report back on his penthouse guest as he dressed for dinner. “Is my tie straight?” he asked, turning to him.

“Yes, sir. Don’t you think it’s odd that there’s nothing about her anywhere?”

These days it was a rarity, but that didn’t mean there was something wrong with it. “Maybe she’s mastered the fine art of living under the radar. It’s a highly underrated skill these days. Not everyone feels the need to broadcast their every thought and feeling into cyberspace. I don’t.”

“I was able to get a little information on her deceased grandfather,” Chuck added. “Apparently, he was a former military man that went into real estate development after World War II. He’s credited with starting the tract house boom of the 1950s, creating affordable housing for returning soldiers to start families. That, along with the population growth in California at the time, made him a fortune.”

That was interesting. His shy flower was an heiress to quite a large chunk of money. She certainly didn’t act like one. “So her grandfather invented cookie-cutter suburbia? That’s quite an accomplishment.” Mano straightened his suit coat. “Anything else?”

“I did ask Wendy about her. She handled her check-in.”

That caught Mano’s attention. “And?”

“She said Miss Edwards was very willowy, tall and thin. She was pale with an unremarkable face.”

That was an odd way to describe her. “Unremarkable? Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

Mano sighed. People with eyes simply didn’t use them the way they should. If he had his sight back, he would study every detail the way he did now with his hands. He’d talked to multiple staff members, and none of them could tell him what Paige looked like. It was as though she was a ghost that only he could sense. “What time is it?”