by Lisa Jackson
Her heart did a funny little somersault as she focused on his dark hair blowing in the wind and his bare chest, lean and muscular. Was the story about Trish London true? Or just a figment of a small town’s imagination? And what about his engagement to Wynona Galveston? Her stomach wrenched a little at the thought of Hayden getting married, but she chided herself for her silly fantasies. She’d given him a ride to town. Period. As far as Hayden was concerned, she wasn’t even alive.
Ben returned, anchored his boat and hoisted himself onto the dock. “You comin’?” he asked, dabbing his face with the corner of her towel. Nadine shook her head. “Fine. Have it your way.” Over the sound of Kenny Rogers’s gravelly voice, she heard Ben’s retreating footsteps and the low laughter of Patty Osgood. Sliding a glance over her shoulder, Nadine thought she might be sick. Patty’s coral lips were curved into a sweet smile and she was leaning on her elbows, coyly thrusting out her chest, which was tanned and slick with oil. Ben sat down beside her and could barely keep his eyes from the plunging neckline of the reverend’s daughter’s halter top and the heavy breasts confined therein.
Shuddering, Nadine turned her attention back to the lake and the sound of an approaching boat. Her heart nearly stopped when she spied Hayden edging his speedboat closer to the dock.
“I was pretty sure I recognized you,” he said, once the boat was idling. He was wearing cutoff jeans that rode low on his hips, exposing a bronzed chest with a sprinkling of dark hair. Sunglasses covered his eyes again and the old cutoffs hid little of his anatomy.
Nadine’s throat was suddenly dry as sand.
Throwing a line around one of the pilings, Hayden stepped out and plopped next to her on the edge of the dock. Water beaded in his dark hair and ran down his chest. Nadine’s insides seemed to turn to jelly as she stared at him. “I figured I could pay you back for the other day.”
Her temper inched upward at the thought of their last conversation. Why had she bothered defending him to her family and friends? He was just as bad as they’d all told her he was. “I thought you understood how I felt about your money.”
A sexy grin stretched lazily across his jaw. “I wasn’t talking about cash. How about a ride?” He cocked his head toward the boat.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said quickly, though a part of her yearned to take him up on his offer. Alone. With Hayden. Knifing through the water with the wind screaming through her hair. The thought was more than appealing, but she didn’t trust him. Despite the fact that she’d fantasized about him daily, she still wasn’t sure that being alone with him was the right thing to do.
“Look, I owe you—”
“I told you before you owe me nothing. We’re square, okay?”
“Then I’d like you to come with me.”
Nadine blew her bangs from her eyes. “Look, prince, you don’t have to—”
Suddenly one of his large, warm hands covered hers and her heartbeat jumped. “I want to, Nadine. Come on.”
She knew she should resist him, that taking a ride alone with him would be emotionally dangerous. If she didn’t heed the warnings of her mother and her classmates, she should at least listen to the erratic, nearly frightened, drum of her heart. But she didn’t.
He tugged gently on her arm, helping her to her feet, and before she could come up with a plausible excuse, he was helping her into the boat.
“Hey!”
Ben’s voice sounded far in the distance as Hayden yanked off the anchoring rope and opened the throttle. The boat took off with so much force, Nadine was thrown back into her seat and her hair streamed away from her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ben, running barefoot along the dock, yelling at the top of his lungs and waving his arms frantically. Served him right for ogling Patty Osgood!
“Nadine! Hey! Wait! Monroe, you bastard…” Ben’s voice faded on the wind.
Nadine laughed over the roar of the powerful boat’s engine. Turning, she waved back and forced a sweet smile onto her lips. Ben motioned with even more agitation and Patty, left on the blanket, was frowning darkly, probably because Ben’s attention had been ripped away from her. Too bad. Nadine laughed again before she slid a glance to the boy…well, man really, standing at the helm. The wind blew his hair, revealing a strong forehead with a thin scar, chiseled cheekbones and a jaw that jutted slightly.
“Where do you want to go?” he shouted over the wind.
She lifted a shoulder and hoped that he couldn’t see through her sunglasses to the excitement she knew was gleaming in her eyes. “You’re the captain.”
His white teeth flashed against his dark skin. “If you don’t state a preference, you’ll have to accept my decision.”
“I do.”
He laughed at that and the deep, rumbling sound surprised her. “Hope you’re not disappointed.”
She considered the rumors she’d heard about him, but dismissed them all. She felt carefree and a little reckless as the boat sliced through the water at a speed fast enough to bring tears to her eyes.
He followed the shoreline, turning back on the path they’d taken. On the south side of the lake, they passed by the old bait-and-tackle shop and the dock where Ben’s boat still rocked with the waves. Ben was standing at the dock and his expression was positively murderous. Nadine smiled back at him. They passed the public park and moorage, as well as the old summer camp and chapel. Following the curve of the shoreline, the boat sped along the north bank, the rich side of Whitefire Lake. Nadine caught glimpses of huge mansions nestled discreetly in thickets of pine and oak. Boathouses, patios, tennis courts and swimming pools flashed by. Every so often a private dock fingered into the clear water.
“You probably wonder why I’m driving this—” he said, motioning toward the boat, as if suddenly a little self-conscious.
“It’s yours?”
“My father’s,” he admitted with a grimace, and then, as if guessing her next question, added, “Even though I didn’t want the Mercedes, this is different. I can use the boat without having to worry about having any strings attached to it.”
“No price to pay?”
“Not yet. But it could still happen.” His smile faded. “With my old man you just never know. Everything comes down to dollars and cents with him.” As if hearing the anger in his voice, he glanced at her. “Still want to hang out with me?”
“Talking about your father doesn’t scare me off.”
“It should.”
“I’ve got two older brothers. I don’t scare easily,” she remarked, though her tongue nearly tripped on the lie. Truth to tell, she was frightened even now. Scared of being alone with him, scared of what she might do.
He laughed and shook his head. “You haven’t come up against dear old Dad.”
Seemingly convinced that she wasn’t going to change her mind, he slowed the boat and edged the prow into a small cove on the north shore. Nadine’s heart was thumping so loudly, she thought he could hear its uneven beat. What was she doing here, alone, with a boy she barely knew? A rich boy with a bad reputation? He decelerated the speedboat to a crawl, guiding the craft through a thin inlet that opened to a tree-shaded lagoon. “Ever been here?” he asked, and she shook her head.
She’d never been so close to all the expensive homes on this side of the lake. “Is this on your property?”
“My father’s.” A line of consternation formed between his brows for a second. “Garreth takes great delight in owning things and people.”
“Like you?”
One side of his mouth lifted crookedly. “Well, I’m the one thing he can’t buy. At least not anymore. It frustrates the hell out of him.”
“And gives you great joy.”
His white teeth flashed devilishly. “I do like getting his goat.” Taking her hand, he guided her to a stretch of beach whe
re sunlight pierced the canopy of pine boughs and pooled on the glittering sand. “I used to come here as a kid,” he admitted, eyeing the berry vines that were beginning to encroach along the forest’s edge. “But that was a long time ago, when my father could still buy me.”
“You act as if your father’s an ogre.”
“Isn’t he?”
“My dad doesn’t think so.” Nadine sat on a smooth, bleached boulder and wiggled her toes into the warm sand. “In fact, he thinks your father is a prime example of the American dream.”
“By inheriting a sawmill or two?” Hayden snorted. “He just happened to be the son of a wealthy man.”
She glanced at him pointedly, but didn’t say a word.
“I know, ‘like me.’ That’s what you were thinking, so you might as well say it.”
“It’s just that I don’t see that you have all that much to complain about.”
“But, then, you don’t know my family, do you?”
She shook her head, her long hair sweeping across her shoulders. And when she looked up, he was staring at her, his feet planted wide apart, his muscles tense. She felt the undercurrent of electricity in the air, as surely as the breeze causing the branches overhead to sway. The air smelled of water and cut cedar, and over the erratic beat of her heart she heard the muted sounds of birds chirping and the distant roar of motorboats.
She swallowed against a cotton-dry throat and licked her lips.
“Do you know why I brought you here?” he asked suddenly.
Oh, God! She couldn’t breathe. The air was trapped in her lungs.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Since the other day, when you gave me a ride.”
She could hardly believe her ears and wanted to pinch herself to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. “You…haven’t called.”
“I didn’t want to call. I didn’t want to see you again.” He advanced slowly and sat down next to her, his body bare inches away. “I mean, I told myself I didn’t.”
“Then why did you stop at the dock?” she asked, her blood pulsing wildly.
“Because I saw you again and I couldn’t help myself.” He dropped his sunglasses into the sand and stared at her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Intense. Electric. Erotic.
She licked her lips, and he let out his breath in a whistle through his teeth.
“Why didn’t you want to see me?”
Laughing derisively, he touched her arm. Her skin tingled with a heat so intense, she nearly jerked away as his fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Because it’ll only cause trouble.”
“I thought you liked trouble.”
His gaze sparked a little. “Some kinds.”
“But—”
“But not girl trouble.” His fingers grazed the inside of her wrist. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard all the stories about me—all the dark tales about my past.”
“I…I don’t believe everything I hear.”
He gazed at her long and hard, and a warmth curled inside her, gently turning over and causing her skin to tingle.
“You had a nickname for me.”
“What?”
“Prince.”
“Oh.” She smiled a trifle nervously. “You deserved it.”
“Yeah, I suppose I did,” he admitted, but he didn’t remove his hand. Like a manacle, the fingers encircling her wrist tightened, only warmly, gently. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Have you been thinking of me?”
She wanted to lie. She told herself she shouldn’t give him an inkling of what she really felt, and yet she despised women who calculated every thought or speech to manipulate men. She tried to yank her hand away, but couldn’t.
“Well, have you?”
“Thought about you? Not a whole lot.” She forced the words over her tongue.
“Liar.”
“Why would I lie?” Instinctively she inched up her chin a fraction and found herself staring into eyes so blue, the sky paled in comparison.
“Because I scare you.”
“I already told you I don’t scare.”
His eyebrow lifted an inch and his fingers moved upward to the sensitive skin on her throat. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m not scared.”
“What, then?”
“Cold,” she threw back, refusing to acknowledge that his touch caused her skin to quiver.
Laughter danced in his eyes. “Today. When it’s over ninety degrees. You’re cold?”
“Yes—”
“Could be you’re coming down with something. Chills and a fever,” he said, with a slightly wicked grin.
“Could be,” she agreed, though she guessed they both knew the reason a blush was stealing up her neck and her flesh tingled all over and her pulse was beating rapidly.
He tugged gently on her arm, pulling her closer, positioning her so that his face was bare inches from hers, his breath warm as it fanned over her cheeks. “Or it could be that you’re scared,” he said again.
“I’m not—”
Her protest was cut short when his lips settled easily over hers. His mouth was warm and hard and persuasive, and all Nadine’s resistance faded as surely as the ripples moving slowly to the shore.
Wrapping strong arms around her waist, he pulled her closer and she gasped as they fell to the ground. His tongue found entrance to her mouth, touching and exploring, flicking against her teeth and gums.
A wanton warmth invaded her blood and she opened her mouth even more, tasting him, feeling him, smelling the scent of lake water on his skin. He was hard and male and virile, calling upon a feminine part of her that readily answered.
Her entire body responded to him. Her breasts seemed to stretch the fabric of her swimsuit, and when his chest rubbed against hers, her nipples grew taut and firm beneath the shiny aquamarine Lycra. Hayden groaned and pulled her so close to him that their bodies lying on the sand were pressed intimately together. Her breasts were crushed against his naked chest and her bare thighs fit snugly against his.
A tremor passed from his body to hers, and when he finally lifted his head, his eyes were fired with a passion she’d never witnessed before.
He kissed her again and this time her lips sought his. Desire scorched them, and she felt his hardness pressing into her abdomen. His fingers moved around her rib cage as his lips stole the breath from her lungs. Gently exploring, inching upward beneath her breasts, his hands caressed her.
Moaning, she moved instinctively closer to him and he cradled one breast in his palm.
Somewhere deep in her mind she knew she should stop him, that if she continued kissing him she’d end up in a kind of trouble she’d never even considered, but her body betrayed her and the light, branding touches of his fingers against her swimsuit convinced her that what they were doing was right.
He reached for the knot of her blouse and quickly untied it, parting the cotton fabric before shifting and pressing hot, wet kisses down her neck and into the cleft of her breasts. She arched against him and a wildness deep inside her turned into a molten beast. Her hands delved into the thick strands of his hair, and he ran his tongue slowly up her breastbone, causing her to shiver in delicious anticipation.
There was a dull roar in her ears, the slamming of her heart against her ribs as his fingers rimmed the neckline of her suit. Her breasts felt full and ached for his touch.
“Damn, Nadine, I knew it would be like this with you,” he said, lifting his head. His eyes were glazed and his hair fell over his forehead to cover the scar that cut across one of his dark eyebrows.
She could barely speak. “Like what?”
He smiled, a sexy, boyish smile that touched her heart. “Like there could never be enough.”
“Oh.” She licked her swollen lips, and he kissed her again, harder this time, with a mounting passion that swept from his body to hers. Rolling her quickly onto her back, he threw one leg between hers and she clung to him, kissing him feverishly, dismissing any thoughts of denial. He rubbed against her and she moaned in a voice she didn’t recognize as her own. One hand tangled in her hair while the other scaled her ribs. His lips were everywhere. Kissing her face, her neck, her bare shoulders. And she wanted more. He lowered the strap of her suit and the stretchy fabric gave way, allowing her breast to fall free.
Groaning, he lifted it, touching her nipple with his thumb, while staring at the line that separated tanned skin from the white veined flesh surrounding the rosy tip. “So beautiful,” he said, his hot breath causing her nipple to stand erect. He touched the hard bud with his tongue and Nadine arched upward, forcing more of her breast into his eager mouth. Heat exploded in her veins as he began to suck and she moved against him, wanting more of his touch. His free hand curved around her waist and fitted over one of her buttocks.
She moaned low in her throat.
“Oh, Nadine, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded as he lifted his head and her nipple, suddenly surrounded by air, stiffened with the cold.
“Hayden?” she whispered, and he slammed his eyes closed.
“You don’t want this,” he said.
“I do—”
“Damn it, Nadine, you don’t.” His fingers, still molded around her hip, dug into her buttock, and he swore loudly. “I don’t!” With a guttural sound, he shoved himself off her and ground his teeth together. “Damn it all, Nadine!” he muttered, rolling to his knees and shoving his hair away from his face with shaking hands. “We can’t do this!”
Nadine, suddenly bereft, felt a tide of embarrassment stain her neck. As if coming here and making out had been her idea! “You wanted me to come here with you,” she pointed out.