Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

  He stepped closer and Mary-Kate needed to breathe as tension rose within her.

  "It'll help you go back to sleep," he explained.

  "How did you know I was awake?" She finished the last of the tea and looked at the cup of hot chocolate. He handed it to her.

  "My room is next to yours. I saw your light come on and came to find out why."

  "I was stupid to fall asleep at the beach," she confessed, sipping the hot beverage. Delicious.

  "It happens. Next time take an umbrella and at least sleep in the shade. There's a big beach umbrella in the hall closet."

  His voice was lazy, soft, and intimate. There was no trace of sarcasm or condemnation she expected to hear.

  Idly she wondered if he saved that for when she was in fighting form. If so, it showed sensitivity she hadn't expected. She looked up at him in the moonlight; had she misjudged him?

  The hot chocolate was creamy, thick and rich. It was made with dark chocolate and tasted almost like a melted candy bar. She sipped it slowly, feeling its warmth permeate her body, warming her again, relaxing her. It wouldn't be hard to fall asleep, unless thoughts of her host's change of mood kept her awake.

  "This is a lovely time of day—er—night," Mary-Kate said, tracing the rim of the cup with one finger. "It's so nicely cool and the air is scented. I love it."

  “It's a good time to walk along the beach; want to go?"

  She was temped. Mary-Kate looked at the pathway, evoking visions of the two of them walking at the water's edge. The full moon would give plenty of light.

  Would he kiss her again? At the thought, her heart slammed against her ribs, beating in double time. The image vanished. She couldn't give in to the temptation to spend more time with Dane Carmichael. He'd already made his position clear. Rich men didn't fall for schoolteachers. This summer's cruise showed her the life style of the rich wasn't something she admired anyway. Better to end this before it got more serious. She wanted to be in fighting form before facing such temptation, so that she could be sure then that she could resist.

  "Maybe another time?" she said, not wanting to offend, but not up to the challenge tonight.

  "Scared?" he guessed.

  Was she so transparent? "Of what?" she bluffed.

  He studied her for a moment, then shrugged. Stepping back into her room, he broke a small leaf from the aloe plant. "I didn't do your face."

  "I can do that myself," she murmured, making no effort to step into the room, or take the leaf from him, no move to let go of the cocoa cup.

  "Part of the service." His voice was low and sweet as honey. Gently he traced her cheek, smoothing the cooling aloe over her skin, from her forehead to her chin, lingering to rub her jaw gently with one thumb long after the aloe was absorbed.

  His face dropped lower, blotting out the moon, blotting out the starry sky. His lips touched hers and Mary-Kate forgot everything. The warmth of his lips touched her heart and she remained still, letting the sweetness of the moment invade her, embrace her, excite her.

  The rich scent of the tropical flowers etched their mark on her memory. The feel of the balmy night air against her skin enhanced the ethereal magic. It was a dream.

  Dane's lips were warm, firm, drawing a response from her that surprised Mary-Kate. Her body grew warm, her awareness of everything else dimmed. Only Dane remained.

  He pulled back slowly, then traced her lips lightly with his thumb, staring down at her, his face in darkness. She wondered what he was thinking.

  "Now, just why are you here, I wonder?" he said softly at long last.

  "I was left behind." Didn't he believe her yet?

  "As a present for me?" His voice was whimsical.

  "Thank you for helping me. I couldn't have put the aloe on myself." She tried to ignore the pounding of her blood, tried to sound normal, unconcerned.

  "Good night, Mary-Kate."

  She drifted to her room, slowly closing the French doors and then the hallway door, still caught up in the magic he wrought. To him it was only a game. But if he kept it up, she was likely to imagine something that truly wasn't there.

  In seconds Mary-Kate turned off the light and climbed into bed. It was hours, however, before she slept. And it wasn't the sunburn keeping her awake.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Once the aloe had been applied the next morning, with Nora's help, Mary-Kate was able to don one of the cotton dresses loaned to her. The day loomed endlessly before her and she didn't know what to do, since she was reluctant to go out of doors. It would be several days before she'd want to risk the sun again. And she'd be a lot more prudent in the future.

  Mary-Kate slipped quietly into the dining room. Dane was already eating, but glanced up when she appeared, watching her from enigmatic eyes. Mary-Kate swallowed hard and, avoiding the sunlight streaming in, moved to sit at the second place at the table. She ignored Dane's look.

  "Sleep all right?" he asked. She nodded, keeping her eyes firmly on the coffee she was pouring.

  "How's the sunburn this morning?"

  "Still sore, but better. At least I can sit down now." She reached for some of the fruit from the bowl Dane offered. Her fingertips brushed his as it exchanged hands.

  Mary-Kate's heart lurched and she peeked up to find his gaze locking with hers. For endless, breathless moments she felt suspended in time. She pulled her eyes away and blinked at the fruit.

  As if in slow motion, she scooped some mango, papaya and passion fruit onto her dish. Another aspect of tropical living she enjoyed. She'd never had these exotic fruits before this summer.

  She began to eat, darting a quick look at her host. He'd resumed reading the papers he had in front of him, glancing up when he felt her gaze.

  Feigning a nonchalance she didn't feel, Mary-Kate looked away and began to eat. Casually letting her gaze move around the room, she twice looked at Dane, each time finding his eyes steadily watching her. It was unnerving!

  Mary-Kate put down her spoon. She couldn't continue. Her nerves were stretched too tightly.

  "Finish your breakfast, then join me in my study," Dane said, rising.

  She nodded, afraid to trust her voice. Sagging back against the chair, she relaxed for a moment when he left. Now what? Was it like being called in to the principal's office? She tried to think what she could have done wrong so far that morning, but came up with nothing.

  Deliberately taking her time over breakfast, she lingered over a second cup of coffee. She wondered where the Lombard’s were, and why they hadn't returned for her. How could they just go blithely on their cruise, assuming she'd be fine? Deciding she'd delayed long enough so that Dane would not suspect how much she longed to see him, she left the table and sought the office.

  It was easy to find—along the hall opposite to her bedroom. On the wall opposite the door was a bank of windows overlooking the side of the house, first the small green lawn, then, beyond, the blue Pacific. To the left was Dane's desk, his file drawers, a computer, and rows and rows of books. To the right, more books and a couple of easy chairs. Recessed in the corner was a large color TV. That was a surprise. She thought they didn't get television reception.

  "I've finished breakfast," she said, stepping into the room.

  He rose and came around the desk, his approach making Mary-Kate feel weak at the knees. She sidestepped toward the right, pretending to be looking at the books, conscious of his movements, the long length of his legs, the powerful muscles in his arms and shoulders, the dark tan of his skin, the lovely silver of his eyes. She swallowed, took a deep breath and threw a nervous smile over her shoulder.

  "This is great—the beautiful view yet with all your books, it reminds me of a library. How nice to be able to look out over the ocean like this. I don't even live near any body of water. You have the whole Pacific as your doorstep. " She was rambling. Get a grip.

  Dane smiled devilishly, his eyes dancing at her discomfort. "You're babbling, Mary-Kate; are you nervous?"

  "No. Should I
be?" She dare not look at him.

  Until he stepped too close to ignore. Mary-Kate had to tilt her head back to see him. She longed to step back, put some distance between them, but sheer resolve kept her in her spot. He was trying to intimidate her. She would not give him the satisfaction.

  She opened her mouth ready to let him know she was on to his technique, but paused before snapping out the words. She didn't need to compound the situation by hasty words.

  "Where did you get all these books?" She looked up at him and swallowed hard. He was too close.

  "Some I brought back with me from different trips, others are ordered." He broke off, staring down at her, his eyes growing steely.

  "Stop that!" he ordered abruptly.

  Her eyes widened. She took a ragged breath. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything but listening to you. You were talking about where you got the books."

  "If you don't stop looking at me that way, I'll think you want me to kiss you again," he said dangerously.

  Mary-Kate looked away, surprised at how much she wished he would. She felt drawn to him as if silken bands surrounded them, tightening, pulling them together. It had to be the magic of the islands. She turned back, gazing at his mouth as he spoke, remembering the touch of his lips on hers. His voice was smooth and deep. She could lose herself in what he was saying.

  "Mary-Kate, I'm warning you," he said in a low voice.

  She deliberately turned away and moved to review the books on the shelves. She was already cast as throwing out lures to him; she refused to add to his image of her. Reading the titles, she was struck by the mix she found. There were numerous books on agriculture, ranging from pineapples, to sugar production, plant diseases and unexpectedly tropical flowers. Then there were spy thrillers, mysteries, and an entire shelf devoted to romances.

  "I didn't picture you liking love stories," she murmured, drawing one from the shelf.

  "Those are Nora's; she likes to read them. I pick up a few new ones from time to time for her, and she likes to reread some of her old favorites. If she's waiting for laundry to be finished, or just taking a break, she'll grab one to read." He moved back by his desk, watching her as she explored the room.

  Mary-Kate spotted a large picture on one table—a woman, a man and two boys. The younger boy looked a lot like Dane.

  "Your family?" she asked. “Is that you as a child?”

  "Yes."

  "I didn't think you'd have one," she commented.

  He scowled at her. "What did you think, that I hatched from under a rock?"

  She shrugged and cocked her head, as if considering the possibility.

  "I guess not, but you seem so self-contained somehow that I just didn't picture you with parents. Where do they live?"

  "My father lives on the Big Island in Hawaii. My mother lives in Europe with her current husband. That picture is old. She left years ago. She's been married three or four times since then. Always looking for more. More money, more excitement, a flashier lifestyle. She's never content to stay in one place and build something. She demands constant entertainment, and excitement."

  He glared at Mary-Kate for a moment, and then looked back to his work. "Do you have parents?"

  "Sure. One of each; they are still married, live in Des Moines. I see them at Christmas. Other summers I've spent some of my vacation with them. I have two sisters, too. I'm the youngest."

  "I'm the second son. No sisters."

  Mary-Kate knew she'd just heard an important fact about Dane. His mother didn't live on the islands. Nor had Melissa wanted to. The quiet life had not suited either one. Did he think all women felt that way? Was that why he thought she was looking for entertainment and the novelty of the island would soon wear off?

  She wished she could think of something to say that would captivate him, that would make him want to talk to her, to find her fascinating. She sighed—that would never happen. She sat gingerly on one of the chairs.

  She was very aware of him as he sat at the desk. He looked too wild and free to be contained in the office. He should be out striding about the land, giving orders to his men, fighting the elements.

  “You wanted to see me,” she reminded him.

  “To see how you were doing. I suggest you remain inside today, away from the sun. You're welcomed to read anything here. I'm going down to the wharf and probably won't be back until mid afternoon. Stay here to read if you want." He picked up a folder and walked out of the study without another word.

  Mary-Kate stared after him. She'd expected to talk more, bring up her wish to do something until the boat came that could carry her off the island. Couldn't one of the ships taking the pineapples get a message to the Lombard’s? To someone who could contact them to have them return for her.

  Dane could hardly stand to be in the room with her, if his abrupt departure was any sign.

  She was confused. There was that kiss last night. Once might be excused. But he'd kissed her both nights. No wooing, no romantic overtures.

  She closed her eyes as she relived that kiss. She'd had a steady boyfriend in high school, but they'd parted years ago. Since then she'd dated some. But no one had attracted her as much as her reluctant host. But she never remembered dreaming over the kisses Kenny and she had shared as teenagers. Thinking about Dane's kisses caused her heart to race, her lips to tingle and a slow bud of desire to grow. She'd like to have another one. Could she get him out into the moonlight again?

  Wishful thinking. She stood and went to the bookcase, looking for something to take her mind off her situation and her host. Picking a mystery from an author she'd heard of, she resumed her place on one of the chairs, leaning back gingerly.

  She wished real life came with better clues to let her know how it would all end.

  In the afternoon, it rained. One minute it was sunny and warm, the next a dark cloud blew across the sky and a torrential downpour soaked the lanai, the ground, drummed on the roof. Nora hurried around to check windows, lowering most of them to just a few inches to keep the blowing rain from entering.

  Mary-Kate went to stand in the front door. The overhang sheltered it from the rain dancing on the lanai. The air was fresh and clean. She stood for a long time watching it saturate the ground, bend the palm fronds and flatten the flowers beneath the weight of the fat drops.

  The storm didn't last long, passing away as swiftly as it had come. It was cooler when the rain passed. The sky became blue again as the dark storm cloud continued out over the water. Steam rose from the ground in the hot sun.

  Dane did not come to dinner that night. Nora said business kept him at the wharf. Mary-Kate ate alone at the dining-room table, but she had her book and hardly missed the man. She'd be happy for the rest of her stay with the library he owned. The assortment was varied and most of the books of recent vintage. After she finished the mystery, she wanted to read the book on the plant life of the islands and tropical fish.

  Nora left shortly after dinner, leaving Mary-Kate alone in the big house. She turned on the lights in the living room and continued to read. When she grew sleepy, she decided to go to bed.

  The door to Dane's room, just beyond hers, was open. She hadn't known which room was his until he'd told her on the lanai last night. Curious, she wondered what his room looked like. Stopping near her door, she paused in indecision. It surely couldn't hurt to take just a peek. With a guilty glance over her shoulder, she walked further down the hall, stopping at his open door.

  Dane's room was similar to hers in size, but his bed was bigger, his furniture made of sturdy oak. The terrazzo floor was bare, no rugs to soften its austerity. He also had French doors leading to the lanai. She stepped inside. On his bedside table was a book—a mystery by the same author she was reading. He kept his room neat, or perhaps it was Nora. It was spotless. The French doors leading to the lanai were open, the warm night air inviting.

  It must be nice to live where you never had to worry about locking things up, Mary-Kate mused as she wandered around
.

  "Care to stay the night?" Dane asked from the doorway.

  She whirled around, her heart sinking. He stood squarely in the opening, nailing her with his steely glare. His gaze was hard, insolent as he let his eyes drift down the length of her. Again she was reminded of a pirate.

  "I just wanted to see more of the house," she said, embarrassed to be found in his room. She'd had all day to explore, why now? She wished she could sink through the floor. No wonder he'd spoken as he did, finding her in his room. It was a likely interpretation of her presence, based on what he thought about her.

  "You could have asked Nora for a tour; I'm sure she would have shown you around." He stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him with a loud click. His eyes never left hers.

  Mary-Kate stood her ground, though her impulse was to flee through the open French doors. She could run to her room and close her door. And what would stop him from coming through if he wanted to a small voice asked.

  "The door was open..."

  "It usually is. When I don't have guests, I don't close it." He took another step.

  Mary-Kate clasped her book before her, watching him, mesmerized, as he took another step, his face closed, inscrutable, his eyes a dark glint. What was he thinking? Did he really think she wanted to stay the night with him? Or was he deliberately trying to embarrass her?

  For a moment a picture of the two of them together in his bed flashed through her mind, and she darted a quick glance at the bed and back to him.

  His eyes had a light in them she'd not seen before. Before she could think, she stepped back, toward the French doors and escape. She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come in. I just wanted to see more of your house. I... good night."

  Before she could escape, his hand snaked out and grabbed her arm in a hard grasp, drawing her up to him, his eyes narrowed.

  "Be a shame to leave now, Mary-Kate. What else did you want to see in my room?"