Honeymoon Hunt

Apparently, though, he was a mind reader.

“My father and I are in the hotel business, Julia.”

“Oh. Well, that doesn’t mean you aren’t connected to the Mob.”

“I think you watch too much television.” He glanced at the menu. “Have you chosen what you want?”

“No, I—It will just take a minute.” She opened her menu and sucked in air. The prices were discreetly printed on the menu, but that didn’t make them any easier to swallow.

As soon as she closed the menu, the waiter appeared at the table. Julia said, “I’ll have the tortilla soup.”

“Of course, madam. And the entrée?”

“No, that’s all.”

Though he looked surprised, he turned to Mr. Rampling. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the tortilla soup also. Then I want the sirloin cut with a broccoli side.”

“Yes, sir. How would you like that cooked?”

“Medium-well.” He looked at Julia. “Are you sure you won’t join me for a steak?”

“No, thank you. Oh, and we’ll need separate checks, please.”

The waiter appeared startled and looked at her dining companion.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said quietly.

Before Julia could protest, the waiter hurried away.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded.

“For the sake of my reputation,” he assured her with a smile.

“I couldn’t care less about your reputation!”

“Then feel free to leave,” he said softly.

Julia snapped her lips together. She couldn’t do that until she found out what he knew.

“Very well,” she said stiffly. “I’ll pay you after we leave here.”

With heavy sarcasm, he replied, “I think I can handle the price of a bowl of soup.”

“That’s not necessary. I pay my own way.”

“And what do you do for a living, Julia?”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Come now, I’ve already told you what I do.”

“I’m a teacher,” she finally said.

He frowned. “Is that why you only ordered soup?”

“No! I—I just wasn’t hungry.”

“I’m willing to buy you lunch so I can get the information I need.”

“I have another price in mind,” she muttered. “Look, Mr.—You never told me your first name.”

“And that matters?”

She drew in another deep breath. “I thought we’d agreed to swap information.”

He looked at her as if he were testing her mettle. Then he said simply, “Nick.”

“Very well, Nick. I think we can share our information and be more efficient.”

“I’ll certainly be more efficient. But I don’t see the need for you to be efficient.”

“I want to find my mother as much as you want to find your father.”

“Why? My father is a great catch. I’m not surprised your mother trapped him.”

Julia drew back, anger filling her. “My mother never set out to seduce your father. She’s never done that!”

“You don’t know that.”

His matter-of-fact tone made her crazy. “Yes, I do,” she snapped.

Nick leaned in closer, as if letting her in on a secret. “Look, Julia, my father loves women. Your mother’s not the first one who thought it would be easy to latch onto our fortune.”

Fortune…? As if a lightbulb had lit up over her head, Julia realized he was Nick Rampling of the Rampling Hotels. She remembered reading about him recently. Wealthy, successful and a real catch, judging by the eye candy constantly photographed on his arm. His father had retired some years ago, leaving Nick to run the family business, worth hundreds of millions.

But Nick wasn’t the focus of their talk; her mother was.

Mustering an attitude, she replied, “My mother doesn’t need your money!”

“Independently wealthy, is she?”

Certainly not on the Rampling scale, she thought. But Lois Chance was comfortably well off.

The waiter’s arrival gave her a reprieve from having to answer.

The waiter carefully placed each bowl in front of them. “Enjoy,” he murmured as he withdrew.