Must Be Crazy: (Melissa and Jackson) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 2) by Claire Kingsley Page B

the drinks on the plane. I send a few emails and check in with my assistant. Melissa hasn’t so much as looked at her phone, but I figure she’s just tired.
    The car turns into the driveway and stops in front of the triple garage doors. I get out and go for Melissa’s door, but she beats me to it. I’m disappointed we’re arriving after dark—it’s hard to see, and we’re right on the beach. Still, we’ll wake up to it in the morning.
    A man in a white polo meets us out front. “Mr. Bennett,” he says. “It’s good to see you. I trust your flight was pleasant?”
    I shake his hand, searching my memory. “Nathan,” I say. “Is that right?”
    “Yes, good memory,” he says.
    The last time I was here, Nathan was in charge of the villa. I remember him because he did such a good job, and he was personable without kissing my ass. I like him. “Thanks for getting things ready on short notice.”
    “Of course, Mr. Bennett,” he says.
    Another man in a matching polo steps forward with a tray. “Champagne?”
    I take one and hand it Melissa. She blinks at me, but takes the drink.
    “Thank you.” I take one for myself and follow Nathan inside.
    We walk in through a tiled foyer and up a short set of stairs. To one side is an expansive living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. A wet bar with a long granite countertop stands along one side, and a small staircase leads to another sitting area. More tall windows display the breathtaking view. The beige-and-blue furnishings are classic without being gaudy. I pause and survey the space. Tasteful. It will do.
    “Your things have already been taken to your room,” Nathan says.
    “Our things?” Melissa asks, leaning toward me and pitching her voice low.
    “I had some things sent over,” I say. “I had to guess at your size, but it should get us through for now. We can go shopping for anything else you need tomorrow.”
    “The main living space is here,” Nathan says, gesturing to the spacious room. “The kitchen is that way. Chef Louisa will be available daily to see to your meals. Downstairs is another living area with doors that open to the pool deck. From there, you’ll find the staircase leading to the beach. I’ve set you up in the main master suite, but there are four other bedrooms to choose from. Feel free to select any one you’d like. Would you like the full tour, or shall I show you to your room?”
    I look at Melissa. She looks awed, but there’s a tightness in her eyes. “Thank you Nathan, I think we’ll go to our room. This was a wonderful welcome. Thank you.”
    “Of course,” Nathan says. “Would you like breakfast at nine?”
    “Let’s make it ten,” I say. “We’ve had a long day. And I can find our room.”
    “Very good,” Nathan says. “Good night.”
    “Good night.”
    Melissa doesn’t say anything as I lead her upstairs to the master suite. We walk in and are greeted by the soft breeze coming off the water. Accordion doors open to a large balcony with a glass railing. The beach is just below. Two suitcases are in front of the king-sized bed, and a sitting area surrounds the gas fireplace. A door on the far side leads to a large bathroom. I can just see the tub and walk in shower. That could be interesting.
    I dig in my pocket and toss my phone on the bed. I’ll tweet a picture of the view in the morning, although even in the dark it’s stunning. Moonlight glints off the water and the sound of the waves carries through the entire villa. I take a sip of my champagne and I’m about to invite Melissa out onto the balcony, when I see her face.
    Something is wrong. Her forehead is tight, her eyes wide and glistening, and she holds a hand to her mouth.
    “What’s the matter?” I ask. “Don’t you like it?”
    She shakes her head slowly, her hand still covering her lips, the glass of champagne untouched in her other hand.
    I move closer and pluck the drink from her hand, setting it on a side table.