“That’s correct, Senator. I wouldn’t be in business very long if I didn’t.”
The senator chuckled. “No, indeed. Your office is down in the Keys, I understand.”
Drake pulled another card and handed it to him. “That’s my personal card. If you’d like to visit us, please call me. I also keep the prototype for our ninety-foot seagoing yachts here in Port St. Lucie.”
“I’ve heard of her from people other than Dennis. They say she’s so well built she could withstand a hurricane.”
“As long as she isn’t tied to the dock, she could. Nothing stands in the way of a hurricane, but she’s built for all weather.”
“Where did you learn to build your ships?” The senator took a slow sip of his drink from a heavy crystal glass with intricate etchings.
“The Netherlands, but first the Marine Corp.”
“Really, you served. For how long?” he asked taking more interest.
“Ten years, and then I went on to get my Masters in naval architecture.”
Heather posed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad he’s not a Marine anymore. I guess it might be selfish, but I think I’d worry myself to death if he was still enlisted.”
The senator nodded his understanding with a misinterpreted look, thanks to Heather.
“Would you all take your seats, lunch is being served,” Mrs. DeCourcy said in a regal manner.
Heather offered him a sideways smile and slipped her arm through his. He couldn’t untwine himself without making it obvious. She leaned in. “I think you’ve totally sold the senator already without seeing your work.” She squeezed his arm. “I really am proud to say that you served ten years for our country.”
He hesitated to look at her.
“There’s not a lot of guys I grew up with that would be brave enough to do that.” She shrugged and a quick smile flitted across her rose colored mouth. “They don’t have to because they either inherit a fortune or work with their families. Not many would take the hard way to prove themselves.”
Heather surprised him when she stepped back and released his arm. He surveyed the patio and saw Dennis watching them. “Are you hungry?” He swallowed thickly.
“Famished.” Her eyes glittered as they stared up at him. “Lead the way.”
Plenty of laughter and lighthearted conversation floated between the guests. Although they had money, they weren’t a stuffy crowd, and enjoyed each other’s company. Heather sat beside him at lunch and kept her hands to herself instead of grabbing him under the table, which he half expected. She was nothing but polite and chatted with the guests around her.
The senator sat to his left. As they waited for desert to be served, he leaned in and said, “You two make a handsome couple. Heather is a beautiful young woman. A perfect wife for a prosperous entrepreneur. Do you have plans on marrying her? A wise man would.”
Heather had been talking to another guest, but her conversation ended and she sat quietly beside him.
“She is lovely, and a good friend,” Drake answered.
The senator sized him up. “I see,” he said. “I guess it’s a bit old fashioned, but I still believe that a woman who comes from a good home has the ability to make a man better than he is. When I was introduced to my wife, she intimidated me.” He chuckled. “She came from old Georgia money. My father was in politics and introduced us. Didn’t take me long to recognize that with a woman of her class, I became an even better man.”
Drake didn’t move, although his insides leaped when Heather’s hand fell over his. “Drake and I have only known each other for six months. We’re in no hurry, and I think it might be the other way around. He makes me a far better woman,” she said.
He turned to gaze into the eyes he’d seen filled with sexual fire, anger, and sweetness. She could be anything she wanted to be, and she wanted him. Always him.
She bowed her head regally. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Drake, but it’s the truth.”
“You didn’t,” he said honestly.
Once the meal was over the guests meandered back to the patio to enjoy the afternoon. Heather’s friends gravitated away from their parents and gathered near the pool, which was camouflaged by the vast gardens of the estate.
“Care for a walk?” Heather asked.
“Sure,” he said, and they slowly strolled down the incline toward the louder crowd near the pool.
“You really are an amazing man, Drake. You’re so gracious and honest with everyone.”
“Don’t need to be a slimy salesman if you believe in what you’re doing. I just talk to people.” That’s always how he’d sold his vessels.
They found Heather’s friends, maybe twenty in total, relaxing around the pool. A few of the guys he’d never seen before. Usually the same faces showed up and partied together. Probably new boyfriends in Heather’s crowd.
She walked backwards in front of him and gave him a brilliant smile. “Now, can I get you a beer? Fridge is stocked with your favorite.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, sure.” With business complete, he could probably relax and have one.
“Hi, Drake,” Gretchen said, drawing his attention. The guys he didn’t know hovered around her and her posse. Close by, the two gals who’d been with her the morning he’d taken Twila for breakfast, eyed him.
Twila. Suddenly she seemed so far away from him. Standing within the circle of money and elite lifestyles was like living in a bubble. Important things faded behind the elegance and picturesque mirage.
“Hi, Gretchen. How are you?”
“Can’t complain. I was thinkin’ I’m going to go back to school and finish my law degree.” One of the guys ventured away from her with his eyes following the sway of Heather’s ass into the pool house.
“Is that what you want to do?” he asked.
“Both my parents are lawyers. They’d love for me to follow in their footsteps. I do like law. I’m just a little worried I’m not as quick as they are.”
He glanced toward the pool house saying, “Don’t underestimate yourself.”
The doors to the pool house sat wide open. Heather stood next to the bar with a beer in her hand and the guy had her cornered. Her expression looked worried. She took a step to the left and the guy cut her off. He placed a hand on her hip and tried to draw her closer. She pushed away, her expression more than worried.
Gretchen looked over as well and her face soured. “Why did you bring him anyway?” she said to the guy on her left. “He’s nothing but trouble.” She looked up at Drake. “One of those, never takes no for answer, types. Apparently he’s gotten into trouble before with a woman and his parents bailed him out.”
“Let go,” Heather said, loud enough to reach them.
Bloody hell. He made his way around the pool and entered the spacious lounging area. “Hey, that’s my beer you’re blocking, and I’m kinda thirsty. Gonna let go?” Drake said sharply.
The guy, who wasn’t as tall as him, but about as built, cranked his head around. “There’s more in the fridge, friend, get your own, she’s a little busy.”
“I can see that. Looks to me like she doesn’t want your kind of busy on her body. Why don’t you back off?”
“Fuck you, man. You the boyfriend or something?”
“Yes,” Heather said quickly. “Drake, please.”
She really looked scared. “Doesn’t look like she’s into you, man.”
The guy rounded with a stance prepped and ready to fight. Heather slipped away and ran to Drake’s side. “I think you should leave, Glen.”
Glen raised a brow. “Think the boyfriend here needs to take a step back before I land him on his ass.”
Hot head, full of himself and he’d probably be out of jail before Drake could make a phone call. “I’m not fighting you, man, but you should probably hit the road before you end up going for a swim.”
“I think,” Glen swung his arm out grabbing Heather, yanking her toward him with a stumbling step, “she can ma
ke her mind up. She’s a fucking hot piece, I’ll say that.”
When Heather tried to shift away from him, Glen held on and leered at him. By now the crowd had filled the doorway. He turned to his friends. “Take your buddy out of here before I break something on him.”
“Easy, Drake. We’re good.” One of them said and sauntered across the room. “Let’s get out of here, Glen.” He tugged on his shoulder. Glen glared at him as his friend led him away.
When Drake turned, Heather stood near the bar, her brow creased and her arms wrapped around herself. He took a couple steps and she melted against him.
“Okay, that was scary,” she said.
“He’s gone.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes locked with his for a moment, then she bowed her head and stepped away. “Guess I don’t have the right to hug you anymore.”
He surveyed the airy architecture of the room, appreciated the fine furnishings and the care that went into it. He swallowed heavily, feeling like he was being torn in two different directions. One pulled him back to the simple life at the park, the other was here with Heather and every opportunity that he could hope for laid out in front of him. He slid the beer from the bar and took a very long draw. “I don’t know,” he muttered.
He walked away from her and sat down in the soft leather of the couch. The crowd had dispersed and manned their previous location around the pool.
Heather sat on the coffee table in front of him. “What don’t you know?” she asked, with questioning eyes.
Maybe he needed time to straighten out his thoughts, and he could do that in the Keys. Putting his energy back in the business would take the confusion he felt away. Heather’s hand slid along his leg.
“You can talk to me, you know. I’ll listen,” she said.
Did men still marry for position, even if they didn’t feel love? Twila had severed whatever they had growing last night. Tonight, she’d be sitting at some table with Dr. I-want-in-your-pants. He knew damn well she wouldn’t let the doc have what he wanted. The thought stopped his mind from whirling and he smiled. Twila would never exchange love for a business opportunity. She’d do it with noble intentions and hard work, but would never in a thousand years use sex or a connection to get what she wanted.
“What’s so funny?” Heather asked, seeing him smile.
“Just thinking about Twila.”
Heather bristled but contained herself. “I might be jealous of her, but I think she’s nice.”
He nodded. “She is.”
“You said you were falling in love with her. Are you?” she asked, fiddling with her nail, not looking at him.
“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” He swallowed another gulp of beer to cool the ache in his chest. All he could see was Twila standing with her head resting against the doorframe in her Florida room. She was so beautiful to him. So precious. Was she abandoning him, or was it the other way around?
“No,” Heather agreed. “But sometimes you can be happy and learn to love.”
His eyes traced her submissive pose. He and Heather had a pretty intense sex life when they were together. He couldn’t argue that. Could they make it work? She wanted him, but could he live with her? Especially knowing what love really felt like.
“Drake?” Heather uttered his name with a sweet seductive question threaded through it. “Can I send everyone home? Except you.” She finally looked up at him. “I really want to feel your strength around me again. Love can grow between two people, and I can make you happy.”
He swallowed and knew he was at an important fork in the road, maybe the most important of his life. If he nodded at Heather there was no going back. If this was the choice he made, he’d never be able to have Twila. It would truly be over for them. He stared back at Heather as she patiently waited for his answer.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dr. Aikens rose from his chair when Twila walked into the restaurant. The hum of conversation filled the quaint seaside spot and little candles at every table offered a romantic setting. The sun had already gone down and the flames glowed in their holders illuminating the faces of couples at the intimate tables.
“Hello, Dr. Aikens.”
He pulled her chair out for her. “Michael, remember,” he said against her ear as she sat, and then took his seat.
Michael wore a casual blazer and dress pants. With his white cotton shirt slightly undone, she saw the blond hairs that speckled his broad chest. His blue eyes rested on her with a little too much intensity. “We could have just met at your office,” she said, moving the wine glass out of the way.
“I ordered some wine. I hope that’s all right?”
A waiter appeared and poured. She didn’t want to drink. She wanted to talk about the business, even though she could barely concentrate. Her heart ached so badly she could barely breathe. That afternoon Drake consumed her thoughts. She imagined him talking with guests at the luncheon and Heather by his side. She might be a bitch, but she was beautiful and regal and a perfect match for him. The desire to curl up into a ball and cry her eyes out taunted Twila, but instead she worked her ass off. Now, she was tired as hell.
Michael raised his glass. “To a new partnership.”
She sipped to be polite and put down her glass. “Does that mean you’re open to my taking some of your space?”
He smiled at her. “Absolutely. I know you’re certified, and you’d bring in new clients. Being a registered nurse, you could also tend to mine.”
She smiled. “That would be fantastic. I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”
Michael reached across the small table and rested his hand on hers. “There’s no reason to be. We’ll work together to get your end off the ground. I don’t think it will take any time at all, but I’d love to know a little more about you than you being just a shuttle service for my patients and of course, my patient as well.”
The day when Drake realized Michael was her doctor flashed through her mind. “About that,” she began. “I should probably move my file to another doctor. Dra—I mean, I think it would be more appropriate.”
Michael eyed her. “You’re probably right. To be totally honest, although I’m very professional, I find it a little difficult with you. I can offer a few names of other physicians you can see.”
She didn’t chase after his comment and veered to safer ground.
After an hour of talking and finishing their meals, she made an excuse that she was exhausted, which wasn’t a lie. She had to admit seeing Michael without his stethoscope and white coat gave her a new view of him. They talked easily and stayed within the boundaries of the business.
He walked her to her car and waited for her to unlock it. An uncomfortable moment, at least uncomfortable for her, pulsed between them when he stood too close. They both paused and she saw his chest expand with a deep breath. In that moment, looking into his eyes, she missed Drake so much she wanted to call him and tell him how much he meant to her.
Michael opened her door and waited for her to get in. “Drive safely. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She watched him saunter across the parking lot to his own car, and then closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Sleep wanted to take her, but she started Lindy and drove the few miles home. After flicking on the lamp by her phone, she saw the red light flashing. She wanted to hear Drake’s deep voice. She played the few recordings and wrote down the requests from some of her friends in the park, but the man she’d fallen in love with hadn’t called. Past tired, but feeling antsy she walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.
Thinking of Drake would do her no good. She’d told him to move on. He would. Nibbling on her lip, tears finally welled in her eyes. Girls were allowed a good cry now and then. Hers was now. Sleep would help, and she dumped her glass and wandered down the short hallway. As she brushed her teeth, she looked at herself in the mirror, and the brushing ceased.
With one finger, she touched the mark on the side of her breast. A little mark that
had yellowed, barely visible beneath the vanity lights, but she knew who had put it there. She smiled a thoughtful smile. Love had left its mark in her heart, and Drake had left his mark on her breast. One would most definitely fade faster than the other.
She checked her cell phone like a silly teenager pining for a text and placed it on her bedside table, dejected. Curling into her blankets, she switched off the light and watched the digital display on her clock for an hour. She’d broken her own heart. It twisted in her chest and she pressed her face into her other pillow, hoping his aftershave still lingered.
* * * *
Her phone rang, and she stumbled to the living room, the morning sun laying streaks across her carpet.
“Hello.”
“Morning, dear,” Becka greeted.
Her heart plummeted again like a slide into a deep trough. “Morning, Becka.”
“I was wondering if I could talk to Drake. He’s not answering his cell.”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry, he’s not here.”
There was a long pause on the line. “You, you didn’t see him after the luncheon?” Becka asked.
Drake hadn’t come home, which only meant one thing. She swiped her curls away from her face. “Uh, no I didn’t. I’d try Heather’s if I were you.”
Becka cleared her throat. “No, I’m sure he’ll show up. How about I take you out for lunch today? We haven’t had one of our heart to hearts in a while.”
“Becka, don’t think my heart could handle it today to be honest.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. This is my fault and my stupid son’s. I don’t know why he can’t get away from that red-nailed shark. I feel terrible.”
“Don’t, Becka. Drake and I are friends. We’ll always be friends. I should jump in the shower and get moving. I’ve got a full day.”
“I understand,” Becka said, and bid her goodbye.
Munching on a muffin and relishing her first cup of coffee, she waved at the residents from her Florida room as they strolled by on their morning walks. Quickly swallowing, she answered the phone.
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