Page 10 of Claimed At First Sight

“Yes, I’m parched.”

Running after a shuttlecock will do that to you. It has nothing to do with my racing heart from the proximity to a certain stranger. Nothing at all.

My unwanted helper reaches for the pitcher, but I’m already moving too.

“I can get it myself,” I tell him when he’s about to pour lemonade into two glasses.

For one brief second, our gazes meet. There’s a challenge in his. A quiet expectation that we’ll enter into a conversation now.

Unfortunately for him, I’ve never been particularly interested in meeting other people’s expectations. Not even when I’m so thirsty that the lemonade is beginning to look like salvation.

I give him another sugar-sweet smile. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

Then I walk away before he can answer, and I’m sure his eyes are still on me.

I was gracious, right? Mature.

I reach the open doors leading into the house before curiosity gets the better of me.

When I glance over my shoulder, I find him exactly where I left him, his attention still fixed on me.

By the time I find Mari later that evening, the badminton game should be the last thing on my mind. But despite my best efforts, a pair of dark brown eyes keeps invading my thoughts.

It’s maddening.

Mari is curled in the corner of a sofa in one of the smaller sitting rooms, her bare feet tucked beneath her and a book open across her lap. The doors to the terrace are open, allowing the sea breeze to drift through the room and stir the curtains.

I drop onto the opposite end of the sofa, and Mari looks up from her book.

“Come to apologize?”

I frown. “For what?”

“Crushing my dreams of badminton glory.”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together to suppress a gloating comment.

“You’ve recovered remarkably well,” I say instead.

“I hide my pain.” She presses a hand to her heart, her expression turning appropriately tragic.

I glance pointedly at the grin she can’t quite hide. “That must be why you spent most of the afternoon smiling.”

Her face lights up even more. “Mateo was very good at consoling me.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t need to know how good.”

“You brought it up.” She closes her book and sets it aside. “You played well.”

“I was rescued, apparently,” I huff.

Mari laughs. “Is that what he called it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Mateo told me that Maximo asked about you.”

I reach for one of the cushions and settle it against my stomach.