Don't Tempt Me

by Julie Ortolon

  The ache of longing reached its peak the morning the special segment was scheduled to play on Good Morning America. She sat in the officers' lounge outside her cabin, sipping coffee as she kept one eye on the TV.

  She still couldn't believe Adrian had suggested they date with the hope that it might not be temporary. Good Lord, date Adrian St. Claire? The sexiest man she'd ever met? But he wasn't just sexy. He was funny and generous and kind. Having a man that wonderful want a relationship with her was like having someone stand before her holding out a beautifully wrapped gift box they claimed was filled with joy, and saying: "Here, you want it?"

  Of course her instinct was to snatch her hands back and ask: "What's the catch?" What had he expected? That she'd shrug and say, "Okay"?

  She rubbed her forehead to relieve a tension headache that had hounded her for days. If she could just figure out the catch, then maybe she'd have the courage to reach for what he offered. Otherwise, she was half convinced she'd unwrap that pretty box and find it filled with snakes.

  Unfortunately, her rejection had hurt Adrian's feelings and she had no idea how to fix that.

  Footsteps sounded on the deck, letting her know Ti had arrived to watch the show with her. She smoothed the worry lines from her brow a second before he clambered down through the aft hatch. "Did I make it in time?"

  "Just barely. I think we're up next." She glanced at the TV. "They just cut to commercial, so you should have time to grab some coffee if you hurry."

  "Great" He ducked into the galley and came back with a steaming cup in hand. He'd barely taken a seat beside her when an image of the Pirate's Pleasure appeared on the screen.

  "Dat us! Turn it up!" Ti said.

  She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume as she stared in awe at the screen. Even though she'd worried about the special, the sight of her ship coming into the cove at Pearl Island under sail power sent a thrill racing through her.

  The voice of a female reporter invited the audience to join them for a trip to a magical island in search of buried treasure. Jackie sat forward, both hands wrapped around her coffee cup, waiting for any mention of her name. Fortunately, they focused on the history of the powder horn. The reporter interviewed Carl Ryder on the beach, asking about the excavation and what they hoped to find. He looked ruggedly handsome in his black wet suit with the cove behind him and the wind ruffling his sun-bleached hair. Unfortunately, his manner before a camera could cure insomnia.

  They cut quickly to the inn, saying buried treasure wasn't all guests might find while staying on the island, since a ghost supposedly haunted the old mansion. Allison, dressed in a Southern belle costume, welcomed them on the veranda and led them inside for a tour.

  "The St. Claires got to love dis," Ti said.

  "No kidding," Jackie agreed, knowing they probably had a TV going in the kitchen even in the midst of serving breakfast. "You can't buy advertising this good."

  "Not bad for us, either, since dey start with a shot of da ship."

  "True."

  As Allison led the camera toward the back of the house, the voice-over cut back in, claiming that if old sailing ships, buried treasure, and magic ghosts weren't enough to entice guests to this special getaway, there was the food, sumptuously prepared by Chef Adrian St. Claire.

  Sumptuously prepared? Jackie raised a brow. The woman made it sound as if the chef were sumptuous, not the food. When Adrian appeared on the screen, Jackie had to admit the word fit.

  He smiled into the camera, dimples set to stun as he explained what he was preparing. Jackie's heart ached watching him, knowing he'd hammed it up to shift attention away from her. And he certainly hadn't exaggerated about the show he'd put on. When she compared it to Carl's interview, she could see why they'd decided to show more than just a few brief seconds of him cooking. In fact, they spent half the segment in the kitchen with him showing off.

  She remembered him saying he'd wanted to be an actor. Too bad he hadn't pursued it He'd have been a heartthrob, no doubt about it.

  But then she never would have met him.

  The thought brought back her earlier tug-of-war, but with a new layer. How could she even think of dating a man with that much natural charisma on top of his incredible good looks? She'd never considered herself lacking in confidence when it came to men, but Adrian was in a whole different league than the average Joe on the street. Did she really want to deal with the constant competition? And what about faithfulness? She'd always thought men had a hard enough time with monogamy; how much harder would commitment be for a man who had women throwing themselves at his feet?

  She'd be crazy to get involved with him.

  So why couldn't she stop thinking about him and wanting to say yes?

  The show cut back to the main set where the anchors thanked the reporter in the field for the piece on Pearl Island, then moved on to the next topic. Jackie clicked off the TV, completely depressed.

  Ti turned to her with a beaming smile. "If dat don't sell cruise tickets, I don't know what will."

  "Yes, it was very good," she agreed gloomily.

  "Okay." He looked at her. "Why da worries on your face?"

  "What are you talking about? I'm not worried." She straightened the sailing magazines scattered across the old trunk. "In fact, I'm ecstatic. They showed our ship and mentioned the name but left us out of it. It was perfect."

  "I don't mean da show. You mopin' for da past two weeks." He looked at the TV then back at her. "I take it things not go well between you and Adrian?"

  "I don't know what you mean." Snatching up her empty mug, she headed for the galley. "There's nothing going on between us."

  "Jackie, dis is me." Ti followed her to the coffee machine. "I see da two of you. Dat mon want you, and you want him."

  "Okay, so we've got a healthy dose of lust. So what?"

  "Dat what he call it? Lust?"

  "I don't know!" She rubbed both hands over her face, remembering the look on Adrian's face when he'd said it wasn't fun and games for him anymore. "I'm so confused."

  "Den talk to me." He leaned against the counter. "Tell me what confuse you."

  She sagged in defeat. "Adrian wants us to start seeing each other."

  "And you don't want dat?"

  "I don't know what I want. I only know what I don't want. For this venture to fail. To lose my ship. To have to move away and start over."

  "You think of dis now, after we commit to doin' dese cruises?"

  She snatched up the pot to fill her cup. The last thing she needed was a repeat of the argument they'd had back in the fall. Her hand shook, sloshing hot brew on the counter, and she cursed as she replaced the pot. "All right, if you must know the truth, I didn't have a choice."

  "Ah," he said. "Den I right in my suspicions. Even dough you promise to always be straight with me, things worse dan you let on."

  "Were worse." She cast him a sheepish look. "They're turning around now, I swear. Which is why I don't want to mess this up. Except I may have already done just that"

  "What you mean?"

  She lowered her gaze to her cup. "Adrian is really mad at me right now."

  "Because you tell him you don' want him."

  "I do want him. But I don't want to deal with the fallout when he gets bored and moves on."

  "Who say he will?"

  "Give me a break, Ti. When has anything ever worked out for me?"

  "You got a point, but a lot of dat ya own fault."

  "What?" She looked at him sharply.

  "You always put ya faith in da wrong people. Like da men you date. Dey all as irresponsible as ya father or wimps who let you walk all over dem. So of course dey let you down, girl. Adrian St. Claire da first decent mon you know, and if you don' give him a chance, you a fool."

  She stood still, absorbing his words. "You're saying I should get involved with Adrian, even though it could ruin things businesswise?"

  "You say yourself he already mad. So what you have to lose? Jus' don' keep
him danglin' too long. How da old sayin' go? 'All lost to he who hesitates'? Or in dis case, she."

  Just like with Marguerite, who lost everything rather than take a blind leap of faith and trust that life wouldn't let her fall one more time into a heartbreaking abyss.

  "Yes, but ..." She swallowed hard. "What if it doesn't work out?"

  "What if it don'?" He shrugged one massive shoulder. "What da worst dat happen?" With that bit of wisdom, he filled his coffee cup and headed for the main hatch.

  Jackie remained where she was, stunned by his matter-of-fact question. Okay, she asked herself, what if it didn't work out? What was the worst that could happen? Would she die?

  No.

  Would her business be on any shakier ground than it had been before?

  No.

  Would anything so horrible happen that she couldn't battle her way through to the other side?

  She was still pondering that question, when her mobile phone rang and she went to retrieve it. "Pirate's Pleasure Cruises."

  "Is this the ship that was on TV this morning?" a woman asked.

  "Yes, it is."

  The caller gushed for a bit about how beautiful the ship was, then asked for a brochure. She turned out to be the first of many callers throughout the day who wanted more information on how to book a cruise. Mid-afternoon, an excited Rory called to say the inn was getting swamped, as well.

  "Isn't this great!" Rory exclaimed. "I knew it would pay off, but I never imagined the response would be this big. Or this fast!"

  "Me, either," Jackie said, feeling overwhelmed.

  "I'll bet you sell out for the April cruise by the end of the week."

  "I don't know. I'm just glad the first cruise and the one next week sold so well. I'm not willing to bet on a complete sellout yet."

  "Well, I am," Rory insisted. "So name your price."

  "Pass." Jackie laughed. "I'm not dumb enough to bet with a woman who never seems to lose at anything."

  "Except on this you can't lose, either. If you don't sell out, you win the bet. If you do sell out, you win anyway."

  "Too bad everything in life isn't like that."

  "It is if you dream big and back it up with hard work."

  I love you, Rory, Jackie thought, both envious of Rory's faith in life and grateful for her friendship. "Okay, I'll bet you ... five dollars I don't sell out."

  "Not good enough. Let's make it a bottle of champagne. We'll have a celebration lunch when you get here."

  "Do y'all celebrate everything with champagne?"

  "Of course. And considering how well the show went, we have a lot of toasts to make."

  With the mention of the show, Jackie considered asking what Adrian had thought of it, which would be a perfect intro for asking to talk to him. She opened her mouth, but the words stuck.

  "Oops, gotta go," Rory said. "The other line is ringing. See ya next week. Champagne on you."

  Jackie stared at the phone after Rory disconnected. Damn! Another opportunity lost to hesitation. She hated it when Ti was right, which he usually was. But was he right in encouraging her to give a relationship with Adrian a chance? One way or the other, she needed to make up her mind before next week.

  She exhaled in a rush as the thought of seeing him again filled her with equal amounts of eagerness and dread.

  ~ ~ ~

  The day the Mardi Gras cruise was due to arrive, Adrian volunteered to help Allison set up the tables on the veranda. As with the first cruise, the package included afternoon tea for the arriving passengers, then a more lavish meal inside that evening. They'd also decided to offer free shuttle service into Galveston so guests could join the New Orleans-style Mardi Gras celebration going on in the historic district.

  He had a million things to do inside, but needed to at least see Jackie ... even if from a distance. The need was strong enough to leave him edgy and self-conscious. She'd asked him before leaving if he'd ever once gone after something and not gotten it. He had a feeling he was about to find out how that felt.

  The faint sound of calypso music caught his ear. and he looked up to see the Pirate's Pleasure approaching the cove. The sails billowed with wind as the vessel rode across the water.

  "Here they come," Allison said, stepping to the rail and shading her eyes. Down on the beach, guests from the inn sat up on their beach towels. Even Carl's team of divers paused in their work. Joining Alli at the rail, he watched sailors scurry up into the rigging.

  He spotted Jackie on the quarterdeck and fought the urge to go down to the dock to greet her. But he'd decided to give her however much time and space she needed to think things over. If she really didn't want anything more than friendship, he needed to respect that

  But dammit, he wanted to go to her and reassure her, persuade her, seduce her, whatever it took to get her to give them a chance. Why did everything have to be such a big decision, involving their whole future? Why couldn't it be about now, and let the rest just happen?

  When the ship was secure, he saw her look toward the house. He couldn't read her expression from such a distance, but he knew she'd spotted him. Longing coiled in his stomach.

  "Come on." Allison patted his arm in empathy. "Let's get to work."

  He felt his cheeks heat and wished he'd never told his sister about Jackie rejecting him. It was all too horribly embarrassing.

  ~ ~ ~

  Night had long since fallen by the time Adrian left the inn and walked down the wooded path for home. In the spirit of Mardi Gras, a party was in full swing down on the deck of the ship and the sound of music and laughter drifted to him. He glanced through the trees as he walked, catching glimpses of the brightly lit ship. Was Jackie on deck overseeing her galley crew, or had she retreated to her cabin?

  Throughout the evening, he'd looked up every time the kitchen door opened, hoping to see her. She hadn't come, though, making him wonder just how badly he'd screwed things up between them. Self-doubt was a new experience for him, and he'd decided days ago he didn't care for it at all. He much preferred being the one to decide whether or not to be with a woman ---not waiting for her to make up her mind.

  Stepping onto the porch, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. With a sense of deja vu, he turned as Jackie stepped to the edge of the shadows where he could barely make her out.

  "Hi," she said, twisting her fingers together.

  "Hi." He cautioned himself not to get too hopeful. After all, she could have come to deliver another let's-be-friends speech.

  She took another step forward, into the light, and his heart skipped when he saw what she wore: a short tank dress in a tropical print with a scarf tied about her hips. His gaze followed her tanned legs to the sexy ankle bracelet and flat sandals. That she owned a dress at all amazed him; that she'd worn one for him had his hopes soaring. Surely a dress was a good sign.

  "I, um ..." She smoothed the fabric over her thighs. "I hope you don't mind me waiting here."

  "No. Not at all." He stopped himself before he blurted out something stupid.

  "Can I come in?"

  "Of course!" He fumbled with the keys but managed to open the door. Moving ahead of her, he clicked on the floor lamp by the sofa. "Can I get you a drink?"

  "Do you have any of that Kahlúa left?"

  "Absolutely." When he returned with two glasses, he found her standing in his living room with her arms wrapped about herself. "Are you cold?"

  "No, I ---" She dropped her arms. "No."

  He handed her the drink. "I understand you lost a bet with Rory."

  "Yes. Believe it or not, the April cruise sold out completely. I understand we're celebrating tomorrow."

  "Usual place. Usual suspects."

  "I'm looking forward to it. I enjoy your family get-togethers."

  "So." He glanced at the sofa and his heart started to race with thoughts of what they could do there. "You want to sit?"

  "No, I ..." Her brows drew together as she stared at her glass. "I have something to s
ay, and I want to get it out and get your reaction while I'm standing. That way, if I need to leave ---"

  "You'll have a faster escape."

  "Exactly."

  "All right." He braced himself for more rejection. "What did you come to say?"

  "First" ---her voice turned weak ---"are you still mad at me?"

  "Jackie ..." He struggled with what to say. "It's myself I've been mad at. I shouldn't have pressured you. I understand your reservations. I don't agree with them, but I understand them."

  "Then ---" Her fingers tightened on the glass. "You're still interested in ... "

  "Being more than friends?"

  She managed a jerky nod.

  "Good God, yes." Setting his drink on the end table, he stepped closer to her. When he saw her body shaking, he rubbed his hands on her bare arms. "Are you sure you're not cold?"

  "I'm f-fine."

  "You're trembling."

  "I'm not cold," she whispered. "I'm scared."

  "Oh, Jackie." His heart melted. Afraid she'd drop the glass, he took it from her and set it beside his. Then he carefully gathered her to him, trapping her clutched hands between them. She felt small and vulnerable, her head barely reaching his shoulder. He took her fists and brought them to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. "You don't have to be scared. I'll never do anything to hurt you."

  "I know you won't mean to." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "People always mean promises when they give them. But keeping them is hard. It's okay, though." Her fingers relaxed enough to caress his face. Even that light touch stirred his senses. "I'm tough enough to take whatever happens."

  "You're very tough." He kissed each of her palms, wanting to pull her body snugly against his so he could soak up the feel of her in his arms. They'd rushed things the last time, though, by giving lust free rein. Cupping her face, he decided this time, he wanted to savor every moment, every sensation. "Just don't complain if I treat you gently."

  Her face softened as he lowered his mouth to hers and her arms went about his neck. He sank slowly into the kiss, molding her to him, feeling her breasts against his chest, her thighs brushing his as she rose up on her toes. Cupping her bottom, he hardened against her soft belly as he realized this was what he'd yearned for all his life without even knowing it: this tender, tough woman who excited him and challenged him, who both needed and completed him.