He stood at the end of the booth, looking inquisitively at Michael. Katie wondered idly if her husband could help him, and looked over at him with the thought. Dare she ask him later? Would he scoff at her requesting a favor when trying to end their marriage?
'Hi, Jim. Michael, this is Jim Reed, one of my friends here on Key West. Jim, Michael Donovan—uh—a friend of mine from Boston.'
Michael's face held a smile, his eyes a knowing glint. The intent of the introduction had not escaped him.
Jim was obviously curious about Michael. In the nicest way imaginable Michael sidestepped the questions Jim posed. Katie was impressed. He did nothing to depress Jim's spirits, yet revealed very little about himself, and Jim finally realized defeat and rejoined the group he'd come with.
Katie was surprised that Michael hadn't snubbed her young friend. She smiled at him warmly. ‘Thank you.’
‘Was I ever that young, dumb and obvious?”
She shrugged. In the early days, Michael had been very much like Jim.
'A little young for you, isn't he?' Michael said softly.
She bristled. Not everything was about sex. 'Jim's just a friend, Michael. Anyway, he's only a year younger than I am.'
As they ate, Katie couldn't help noticing Michael fit in. He seemed to enjoy the food, and didn’t seem as out of place as she’d expected. She’d been foolish to worry about his reaction to one of her new favorite places.
And why shouldn't he fit in? she thought. He hadn't built up Donovan Construction by riding roughshod over people. He had to deal with all types—from bankers and other investors to real-estate moguls, to carpenters and bricklayers. And he did it successfully. It was a skill he had perfected. He could fit in anywhere, be comfortable, and make others feel comfortable as well.
He told her about some of the people she knew, what the business had been doing.
She listened with half an ear. She didn’t care anymore. Her eyes roamed around the restaurant, smiling at a family with small children making a mess of their pizza. One little boy ate his slice upside down, with the toppings falling off.
Neither brought up the separation or divorce.
When they finished, he asked, 'Ready to go?'
She nodded and slid from the booth. The evening was almost over. She once again felt as if she were treading on eggshells. They still needed to talk about their own situation. Had he held off to make dinner pleasant?
They walked back to the hotel. The night air was refreshing after the hot day. The slight breeze blowing in from the ocean tinged the air with salt. Katie caught the scent of night-blooming jasmine, its sweet fragrance adding to the romance of the evening. She darted a quick glance at Michael. Did he feel the romance of Key West?
He walked beside her, his eyes examining the street as they ambled along, noting the bars with music spilling across the pavement, the small cafes filled with diners, the other strollers along the avenue. Key West had a festive, laid-back feel all year long. Katie had only been here a few months, but she had fallen in love with it.
'Which way?' he asked when they stopped at a pedestrian crossing.
'Straight ahead. I'm beyond the hotel. But you don't need to see me home—I'll be fine on my own, it’s only a few blocks from the hotel.'
He started to say something, then paused, shrugging. 'Fine. I enjoyed meeting your new friend, Kath—Katie. Different from our friends back in Boston, but interesting none the less.'
Katie was silent, not knowing if he was being condescending or truthful in his comment. She almost corrected him about 'their' friends, but not wanting to disturb the end of what had turned out to be a pleasant evening, she kept quiet.
She smiled ruefully in the dark; still the polite socially correct Bostonian. Why didn't she just tell him she didn't consider the people she'd dealt with in Boston her friends, but just others who could benefit Donovan Construction?
But he'd be gone soon; she’d be free. She’d hold her tongue a little longer.
He stopped in the shadows at the edge of the light shining from the hotel lobby. For a moment Katie thought he meant to kiss her goodnight. Panic engulfed her. She didn't want him to kiss her; she only wanted him to leave her alone—to return to Boston and let her continue with her new life in Key West.
But Michael didn't kiss her, only drew his fingertips lightly over her satiny cheek. Her skin tingled and she felt the shock to her toes. Eyes wide, Katie tried to see his expression, but it was dark where they stood, and she couldn't see him clearly.
'Goodnight,' he said.
‘Aren’t we going to talk?’ she asked, surprised at the abrupt end.
‘Another time.’
'Goodnight then.' Disappointment and relief washed through her. They ended the evening almost as friends. Yet if he didn’t leave, they’d still have to discuss their divorce.
Michael's touch had stunned her—she’d felt it to her toes and she had no business reacting like that. She'd thought he would kiss her and was disappointed when he hadn't. What was the matter with her?
Right before she fell asleep, she tried to picture when they’d discuss the divorce. So far they hadn’t resolved anything at all.
CHAPTER TWO
Despite the turmoil of her thoughts when she went to bed, Katie slept well and awoke at her normal early hour. Donning a dark blue one-piece bathing suit under shorts and a shirt, she slipped out to the beach for a quick swim before work.
The sun was just rising; the water sparkled as the rays struck it. The blues of the sea were dark and mysterious in the early morning light. The palms were still, the beach deserted except for a lone runner in the far distance. Katie dropped her towel, shrugged out of her shorts and shirt and waded in.
As always the warmth of the ocean surprised her. The only time she'd gone in swimming at Cape Cod she'd been cold–and that had been in July. Here it was February and the water was warm, only a few degrees cooler than the air. It was heavenly. She swam, floated and gave herself up to the pleasures of the sea.
There was rarely much surf on Key West—the water lapped the shore much like lake water. Here and there she saw a brightly colored fish darting through the clear shimmer of the sea. She should have brought her snorkeling equipment. But she only had time for a quick swim, not get lost in exploring beneath the surface.
Refreshed, she waded ashore, scanning the skyline from the beach. To the left was the Southernmost Marker—a spot tourists loved. Everyone wanted his or her picture taken there, the southernmost point in the contiguous forty-eight states. To her right through the palms and trees she glimpsed the top of the old lighthouse. The morning was quiet, peaceful and still. The soft muffled slaps of the wavelets only added their soothing sounds to the restful scene. The sky was cloudless, deep blue, the air still and scented with the salt.
Idly she watched the runner approach as she reached for her towel. She recognized him with some surprise; it was Michael. He was wearing running shoes, a brief pair of shorts and had a towel draped around his neck. His hair was damp from sweat and his strong body gleamed in the early sun.
He was surprised to see her and stopped running to walk closer, mopping his face with his towel.
'Good morning,' Katie said, draping her towel around her. 'I didn't expect to see you up and out so early.'
'I usually run early in the morning. Helps keep my body tuned for the rigors of business,' he told her.
She stared at him in surprise. 'Even in Boston?'
He nodded, his eyes narrowed as he watched the emotions play across her face. 'For the last couple of years, anyway.'
Katie's first reaction was dismay. How could she have lived in the same house with this man and never known something so basic as he ran every morning?
Then the implications hit her. It was for that reason and others that they were separating. They did not have a marriage, a sharing of two lives. That was the real sadness of it all–not something she wanted to deal with this early in the day.
; 'Do you come swimming every morning?' Michael asked, glancing around the deserted beach. 'Isn't it dangerous to swim alone?'
'I'm careful.' She hadn't meant for her tone to be defensive, but Michael was one of several people giving her the same advice. Well-meaning, she was sure, but she was out to live her own life in her own way and didn't need others telling her what to do.
Michael's breathing had slowed and the perspiration dried on his skin. Tugging on the ends of the towel, he looked down the beach.
Katie dropped her eyes. She had the craziest desire to run her hands over his shoulders and chest, tangle her fingers in the dark mat of hair that covered the strong muscles of his chest, tapering to disappear in the waistband of his shorts; to feel his warm skin, his muscles move beneath her fingers. She was cool, drying off in the early day, and would like his warmth to envelop her.
'Well, I won't keep you—I know you want to be off running,' she broke the silence, wrapping her towel around her shoulders and wanting to say more, yet not knowing how; wanting to stare at his body, but afraid to give herself away by glancing at him.
'See ya.' With that abrupt statement, Michael started off, never looked back, though Katie watched him until he was a small dot in the distance. He ran with grace and power and she remembered how fit his body was.
She thought about what she'd learned of Michael later that morning while she cleaned her rooms. They hadn't shared a bedroom the last few years, so she wouldn't have known he arose early each day to run. Working late, Michael hadn't wanted to awaken her when he came to bed, so he'd moved to another bedroom almost three years ago, visiting her when the mood presented itself. She rarely arose in Boston before seven. By the time she appeared for breakfast, Michael had already departed for work. What other aspects of his life did she not know about?
In reviewing their marriage, she had to admit they'd spent less and less time together. At first, they’d spent every free moment together planning, dreaming, loving. But as Michael focused more on building his business, putting in long hours, doing everything he could to get ahead, to make Donovan Construction one of the most important companies in the Boston area, their special time shrank. He had succeeded, while she sat at home alone. Then, more recently, still not satisfied, he had kept busy expanding it—keeping it on track, as he said.
She hadn't minded at first; she'd been in awe of what he was accomplishing. She had been anxious to do her part. Which he insisted she did with the entertainment. But the business was never big enough, never successful enough. And she had grown so tired of meaningless chatter with people she partied with only for business.
She couldn’t pinpoint when they became almost like strangers. He rarely spoke of business to her, actually rarely spoke to her at all in the last year, except to check in for planned social events.
‘Neither did you try to find out. Not once did you seek him out and try to make the marriage different, make it more like what you wanted,’ she mumbled as she replaced a pillowcase. She’d gone along with things the way they were. She hadn’t spoken to him about how she felt, what she thought. Desultory conversation at dinner centered on what charity she'd worked on, what Mrs. Winthrop said, or who would be coming to the next social event where Michael wanted to impress someone.
Years ago she might have been able to do something, had she had the nerve then. Now it was too late. She was happy in her new life, she told herself firmly. The years in Boston seemed almost like they happened to someone else.
The next room on her floor was Michael's. She paused, took a deep breath and knocked.
He swept the door open, a smile in his eyes for her. He had obviously showered since his run, and his hair was gleaming in the morning light. He wore only shorts, no shirt. His skin was lightly tanned over the muscles of his arms and chest; the dark mat of hair was crisp and curly.
'I've come to do the room, if it's convenient now?' she said breathlessly, unable to look away. Why was she having trouble with her breathing? He seemed too close.
'Sure, come on in.' He stepped back only a little, and Katie had to squeeze in, brushing against his hard chest in passing. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that touching his warm skin wrought.
She started her cleaning in the bathroom. Michael leaned lazily against the door, watching her, his arms crossed over his chest. Self-conscious with him following her every move, Katie grew clumsy, having to take extra time and care to do the job right.
'Do you have to stand there?' she asked, finally turning to him in exasperation.
'No, but I want to. Why?' His dark eyes laughed at her, as if he knew he was making her nervous, and didn't care. Provocatively he didn't move.
'Go out to the beach,' she ordered, forgetting that he usually told her what to do, forgetting he was a guest. He was exasperating and she wanted him out of her way.
'I like it right here.' His voice was low, sexy.
Katie scowled, and resumed her work. He blocked the door. She stretched out her cleaning as long as she dared, always conscious of his eyes following her every move. Would he move or make her ask? Damn it, couldn't he see he was causing her trouble?
Eventually she took a deep breath and started for the door; her eyes met his briefly then looked away. She had to do the bedroom, and quickly, or she would get behind schedule. Would he let her pass? Or was he having too much fun boxing her in the bathroom?
Michael remained where he was, a devilish look on his face. He seemed to be daring her to move him, to push past him and get on with her work.
Katie paused, almost touching him, then boldly walked on, bumping straight into him. He allowed himself to be pushed out of the way with no resistance at all. She frowned; he was teasing her. She chanced a glance at him, flustered at the lazy grin she saw, the assessing gleam in his eye.
She swallowed hard. She didn't know how to handle this. Michael had never teased her before. She darted another quick look in his direction. He was watching her intently.
She dusted the dressing table, the table and chairs, conscious all the while of his steady regard. The tangled sheets of the bed gave rise to visions of Michael sleeping on the cool sheets. She knew he slept nude and the image of him in the bed was vivid. His tanned skin would look even darker in comparison to the light percale sheets.
His arms and legs would be spread out, taking more room than his share. Self-consciously she straightened out the sheets, her mind filled with memories of the man beside her. She tried to blink the images away.
As she made the bed he moved closer to her, laughter lurking in his eyes.
'Aren't you worried about unruly guests when you go into occupied rooms?' he asked.
She pulled the bedspread smooth. 'No, usually the rooms are empty. If not, I can take care of myself.'
'Show me.'
He reached out and pulled her around to face him, his hands firm on her arms, but not tight. As he lowered his face his voice was low. 'You're more beautiful than ever and you're slipping away from me. I don't want that to happen. I want you, Katherine.'
Before she could react, his lips covered hers and Katie was lost. His mouth was hot and firm, pressing against her with passion and longing she hadn’t felt in years. His hands moved to encircle her, draw her up against him, against the warm, hard muscles of his chest, into the circle of his strong, demanding arms.
She clung to his shoulders as she delighted in the fevered feelings he evoked with his lips, the erotic touch of his tongue. Her fingers reveled in the strength found beneath his warm skin, seeking to learn him again, tracing muscles and delighting as they moved beneath her. Gently his tongue teased her lips until she gave in and opened them slightly.
Joy exploded within her as his tongue explored the soft recesses of her mouth and dueled with hers, tantalizing and tormenting her until she wanted more, much more. She grew bold and returned his kiss, her own senses inflamed, her tongue moving with a will of its own, her lips moving, responding, tasting him.
He drew her against him, pushing her hips forward to meet the rising need of his. Katie lost track of time and reality, her senses spinning, her body awakening to demands and desires long dormant. Hungrily she reached for more.
The shrill noise of the bedside phone ended the spell. Slowly Michael raised his head, his eyes half closed, his breathing ragged. He looked down at Katie for a long second, then slowly put her from him as the insistent clamor of the phone shattered the moment.
'Mark my place,' he said, putting a finger on her lips, then reached around her to answer the phone.
Katie watched him with dazed eyes, panting in the hot room. It was as if she had been transported back in time to the first heady days of their marriage. It took her a moment to regain her thoughts; her mind was spinning. What had happened? What had she allowed to happen? She had to get out of here or everything would be lost. She was stunned at her loss of control, at how easily she'd forgotten her resolve to leave and start anew. She acted like some teenager in the throes of first love. Damn him, she'd told him it was over. Was that his way of trying to show it was not?
Turning, she made a last swipe on the bed and rushed to the hall. She'd forget the vacuuming. If he reported her, so be it. Pushing her cart frantically down the hall, she skipped two rooms and parked the cart between another two.
Trusting he would not pursue her, she let herself into one of the rooms and closed the door behind her. It was against all rules of the hotel. Maids were to leave the door open so there was no suspicion of wrongdoing. But right now she didn't want to see anyone, or have them see her. Grateful these guests had left for the day, she moved on shaky legs to the bed, sinking down on the end, her breathing gradually coming under control.
Destination Romance Page 3