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his expression.
    "Yes, it was, " Glenna admitted with faint astonishment. "I'm flattered that you read it…and remembered it."
    "I remembered it because of the way you managed to take a boring subject and made it appear interesting," he replied diffidently.
    "Thank you…I think." She qualified her statement because she wasn't sure that his remark hadn't been a backhandedcompliment. It irritated Glenna to think he might be mocking her behind his poker-smooth exterior.
    "Is this a business trip or pleasure?" His observing gaze seemed to take note of the turbulence clouding her gray green eyes, yet he had shifted the subject so smoothly that Glenna wondered if she hadn't imagined the gibe in the last.
    "Both," she admitted.
    "The Greenbrier has been written about many times."
    "Then my challenge will be to do it differently." There was a defensive tilt to her chin, elevating it a degree. She became conscious of his superior height and his unshakable self-assurance.
    "I enjoy a challenge myself," he murmured. Then he inclined his head in a slight nod. "Excuse me, but I have a tennis date to keep."
    His comment prompted Glenna to move to one side as if she had been blocking him, which she hadn't. His tanned and sinewed legs carried him past her with long strides. Her gaze followed him for several seconds, taking note of the narrowness of his waist and hips tapering out to the breadth of his ropy shoulders. There was little doubt in her mind that Jett Coulson was a breed of man she had never encountered before—and was unlikely to meet again. He was one of a kind.
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
    ORIN REYNOLDS was at the poolside when Glenna climbed the ladder out of the swimming pool. She sensed an air of urgency about him as she walked, leaving a trail of water behind her, to the deck chair where she'd left her towel and flowered robe.
    "Hi!" When she greeted him, she was slightly out of breath from the swim, but exhilarated by the activity. Within seconds after leaving the pool, the evaporation of water cooled her skin and began raising goosebumps. Glenna shook out the towel and began briskly rubbing herself down. "What's up? I thought we were going to meet in the room."
    "I tipped the bellboy. He told me that Coulson usually has a cocktail in the lounge before dinner. I wanted to be sure we got there before he did so we could spot him coming in."
    Unsnapping her bathing cap, she took it off to let her auburn hair tumble free. "I bumped into him—literally—at the tennis court this afternoon."
    "Coulson?" Her father appeared to need reassurance that they were talking about the same person.
    "The one and only." She used the towel to blot the excess moisture from her swimsuit, a sleek one-piece suit of sea green.
    "What did he say?" Her father was keenly alert, studying every nuance of her expression. "Does he know who you are?"
    "He doesn't know that I'm your daughter—at least I didn't tell him I was. But he had read one of my articles and remembered my name from that." Which was something she was still a little surprised about. "That was just about the extent of our conversation."
    "Mmm." Orin Reynolds seemed to digest that information while Glenna slipped into the loose-fitting floral robe and hooked the wide belt around her slim waistline. "Do you have shoes?"
    "Under the chair." She knelt to remove the fashionably heeled slip-ons from beneath the chair. Using his arm for balance, she stepped into first one, then the other.
    "Let's go to the lounge." He took her arm arid started to lead her away.
    Glenna stopped in stunned protest. "I can't go to the lounge like this."
    "Nonsense. It's informal. There will be people there in tennis shorts. You are certainly more fully clothed than that." He dismissed her protest.
    Glenna didn't attempt to argue about her wearing apparel. "But I haven't any lipstick—any makeup on." Her fingers touched the damp tendrils of curling hair. "And my hair—"
    "Nothing you could do would improve on