It was going to be a long time before her mom recovered enough to not need hourly care. She wasn’t even out of the hospital yet, and while her father was great, he couldn’t do it all. While she could use the time to send out résumés, she hesitated because she didn’t know how long her family would need her.
Sara got up and went into the tiny camper bathroom. She’d changed out of the costume and washed her face as soon as she’d returned from the Lachlan Hotel, but when it came to going back this evening…
Professional was the way to go, she decided. She needed to showcase the other side of the coin, so to speak. Something opposite from the crazy costumes and fun family events on the farm.
She hadn’t packed a cocktail dress with her when leaving in such a rush to take her parents’ spot on the lot. But shehadremembered how they were always invited to parties or gatherings by the local regulars, so she’d hastily thrown in a few dresses at the last minute, though at the time, she hadn’t exactly known why since her parents were the ones who’d made the connections over the years, and it was doubtful the dresses would be needed.
She pulled the deep red, body-molding sweater dress—her one and only designer label that she’d picked up at a second-hand shop—over sheer thigh-highs, and then dug into the bottom of the suitcase for the heels with ankle bands.
Maybe it wasn’t as fancy as a cocktail dress, but with her dark hair and olive complexion, she knew she looked nice.
She focused on her makeup, giving her eyes a bit of a winged appearance and adding a soft gloss to her lips. Out of time unless she wanted to be late, she ran a brush through her long dark hair and left it loose around her shoulders.
Nerves threatened to overtake her, but she shoved them off and reminded herself of the goal. Her parents desperately needed money to cover the hospital bills and rehab, and if a few photos would help the cause, and possibly get other hotels or businesses to notice them, who was she to argue?
A knock sounded at the camper door. Seven on the dot.
She grabbed her bag and coat and marched over, unlocking it to see a man in a dark suit on the other side. “Ms. Zinnick,” he said with a dip of his head. “My name is Cole Blackwell, and I’m your driver for the evening. Are you ready to go?”
She frowned at the name. “Do you know Analise Taylor? I met her earlier today.” Rhys employed yet another Blackwell? Weird just got weirder.
The man flashed a smile that lit his whole face, softening it. “She’s my fiancée. We’re getting married in the spring.”
“Congratulations,” she said, maneuvering the soft sand beneath her heels by shifting her weight to her toes.
Cole murmured his thanks and opened the rear door of the sleek town car, waiting patiently while she climbed inside. The ride to the hotel didn’t take long, and a valet ran to open her door once they stopped.
She entered the beautiful new hotel, taking in the upscale furnishings and decor. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill beach motel but an honest-to-goodness resort that wowed.
“You look lovely, Sara.”
She turned to face Rhys and watched as his gaze ran over her, feeling her body warm in response.
“I wondered if you’d cancel our date.”
She blinked at his choice of words, heart stuttering at the heat in his gaze. “This is a photo opp. It isn’t a date.”
He gently took her elbow in hand to lead her toward a set of double glass doors. Outside she saw that some of the trees had been grouped and layered in varying heights and now twinkled with bright, sparkling lights. Giant lit gift boxes and oversized ornaments in pearl, teal, and gold lined the ground beneath.
“Hopefully by the end of the night it will be.”
ChapterNine
Rhys murmured the tantalizing words near her ear as he led her toward the tree display.
By the end of the thirty minutes spent taking photos with the professional photographer Quinley had arranged for the evening session, Rhys stared down at Sara’s heart-shaped face and tried to pinpoint what it was about her that drew him so thoroughly.
She took his breath away in that dress, and he honestly wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman—though she was indeed beautiful—and she didn’t have a model’s thin lines or height.
Sara was shorter, curvier,softer, her dark hair tumbling around her neck and shoulders in finger-grabbing waves, her lips tinted with a lush nude gloss that continuously snagged his attention and left him fighting the urge to kiss her.
Shewasn’this typical type, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her, something Quinley also seemed to notice if her amused, knowing gaze was anything to go by.
Like it or not, he couldn’t help but compare the two women in question and realize they did share some similarities. Both were strong-willed and direct, characteristics he only now realized he preferred in a woman. So many ladies played the role of demure, anything-you-want airheads around him, and he hated it. He didn’t want a doormat only interested in shopping, but he certainly didn’t want someone pretending to be something they weren’t. Someonethey weren’t.
These two? They were real and honest, though ifhewere honest, Sara’s obvious and heartfelt, do-anything-for-family compassion drew him like a bee to a flower, and he wanted to know more. Know everything the background check hadn’t provided. He’d put a rush on the inquiry, another thing that proved his interest was higher than normal.
Once the photos were finished, he escorted Quinley and Sara to the elevator for the ride up to Haven. They made small talk about the photographer’s upcoming show at a gallery, and when the elevator doors opened, Quinley stepped through first and walked into the waiting arms of her fiancé.
