Summer Days

by Lisa Jackson

  “By all means.”

  “I don’t trust Donovan.”

  “Why not?” Valerie asked, knowing she should defend the man she was to marry and yet unable to muster the right amount of self-righteousness. Unfortunately she didn’t trust Hale, either.

  “I’ve heard about him. Some of the takeovers he’s attempted have been a little”—he flattened out one hand and tipped it side to side—“unethical.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Stewart shrugged one shoulder. “I know, technically he stays within the law, but some of his methods are questionable—ethically and morally.”

  “And no one’s ever won a lawsuit against him,” Valerie reminded him, inching up her chin.

  “Only because of healthy out-of-court settlements.” He glanced over to the other table. “Oh, Donovan’s careful, all right, but in my opinion he’s a little on the shifty side.”

  “Well, I guess we’re all entitled to our opinions,” she said crisply, surprised at the defensive tone in her voice, “but next time you might keep them to yourself.”

  “I’m just trying to warn you, that’s all.”

  “Warn me of what?”

  “That Donovan might not be completely honest with you.”

  “Why would you care?” Valerie asked.

  “Because you’re different from the other women I’ve seen Donovan with.”

  “I hope so.”

  “What I mean is that you’re more—now don’t be offended”—he glanced down at her white skirt and simple blouse—“but you seem more naive.”

  “Naive?” she repeated, remembering how Luke had deserted her and how her boss at Liddell had expected sexual favors for her advancement. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Stewart.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “By Hale?” she asked, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “All he’s interested in is money, you know. Women are a dime a dozen.”

  “Are they? Well, thanks for the advice, but I know what I’m doing.”

  “People in love rarely do,” Stewart said cynically.

  “But I’m not . . .” She cleared her throat. “Look, it’s really none of your business. Hale and I are in love and we’re getting married.” Before Stewart could guess that she was lying, she stood and leaned across the table. “Thanks for the lessons—and the advice, but, really, I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.” With a forced smile, she shoved her hair from her eyes and hurried up the stairs to the deck.

  This trip was going to be torture. If she wasn’t arguing with Hale, then she was defending herself to Regina or Stewart! Fourteen days—and this was just the first! How would she ever survive?

  “This is crazy, just plain, downright crazy,” she muttered, striding across the deck. Winds from the west had kicked up the sluggish, sultry air. Clouds scudded across the sky. The smell of the sea was tangy and wet as it filled her nostrils. The engines of The Regina didn’t miss a beat, throbbing evenly, driving the craft northward in the hot August night.

  Valerie raked her fingers through her hair and felt the sheen of perspiration on her brow. Between the temperature and the tension in the salon below, she’d begun to perspire.

  She heard footsteps on the stairs and glanced over her shoulder to see Hale, his jacket discarded, his shirt unbuttoned, climb topside. “Problems?” Hale asked.

  “I just needed some fresh air!”

  “It was a little stuffy down below.”

  She didn’t answer, but turned away from the ocean long enough to see him lean his hips against the rail. His gaze held hers for a second before she looked away again, staring out at the ink-black water.

  “Stewart can be a real pain,” he said slowly.

  “So I noticed.”

  “What happened? Did he come on to you?”

  “No.” Wrapping her arms around her middle, she contemplated telling him about Stewart’s attitude toward him, but decided it didn’t matter. Why stir up any more trouble? She just had to get through the next couple of weeks. Then she was out of this mess and out of Hale’s life except as his employee, which was all she’d ever wanted to be.

  A nagging voice in the back of her mind accused her of lying to herself, but she didn’t listen.

  She shrugged dismissively. “I’d had enough bridge lessons for the day.”

  “And enough of Stewart?”

  She chuckled. “He’s just worried about me.”

  Hale snorted. “Is he? I wouldn’t bet on it. The only reason he’s on this cruise is to try to put a monkey wrench into my deal with Stowell. He’s not too thrilled with me buying his father’s company.”

  “So I gathered.”

  “I guess it’s not all that hard to understand,” Hale admitted thoughtfully, his gaze touching hers. In the moonlight, shadows from the shifting sea drifted over his face.

  Valerie’s stomach twisted. Why did he seem so handsome and mysterious? His eyes had darkened to the color of the sea, and the stiff breeze caused a thick thatch of his hair to fall over his eyes in fetching disarray.

  “I guess I can’t blame him, really,” Hale said. “Stewart grew up thinking the investment company would be his someday. Then I came along and tried to ruin everything by convincing Stowell to sell to me.”

  “So it’s a matter of inheritance?”

  “Or right of possession. Stewart’s worked for his father for years—ever since he graduated from college. He just expected to run the show when William retired. Now, if I get my way, he won’t have that chance.”

  “But even if you bought Stowell out, couldn’t Stewart still work for you?”

  Hale’s teeth flashed in the darkness. “Now there’s an interesting thought—Stewart working for me. How do you think that would turn out?”

  “Not the best,” Valerie admitted, finding the scenario amusing.

  “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.”

  “Stewart doesn’t believe we’re going to get married.”

  “He will,” Hale predicted. “Besides, it’s not him I’m worried about.”

  “I know, but—oh!”

  Hale suddenly grabbed her wrist, spun her against him and lowered his head quickly to cover her mouth with his own. Her lips were parted, and he took advantage of the small space between her teeth to thrust his tongue into her mouth, eagerly moving his lips against hers, twining one hand in the strands of her hair.

  Valerie’s mind went blank. She pressed her hands to his chest, but didn’t push away. Nor did she respond. She just let the kiss happen.

  “Valerie . . . ?” Stewart’s voice reached her ears, and her heart sank.

  Hale lifted his head, and his eyes seemed glazed as they focused on Stewart.

  Valerie, too, felt light-headed.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Stewart muttered, his color rising as he mounted the final steps to the deck.

  “It—it’s all right,” Valerie said quickly. Her voice sounded breathless, and she nervously combed the tangled strands of her hair.

  “I just thought I’d say good-night.”

  “Good night,” Hale said. He kept one hand firmly around Valerie’s waist.

  “See you tomorrow,” Valerie added.

  “Right.” Scowling slightly, Stewart disappeared below the deck.

  “Maybe that convinced him we’re serious,” Hale said, a cocky smile curving his lips as he released her.

  “I hope so.” Good Lord, why was her voice so low and raspy? Hoping to clear her head as well as her throat, she took in a deep, stinging breath of salt air.

  Hale, stepping away from her, shoved his hair from his face. Was it her imagination, or did his hand shake a little? “Didn’t you enjoy the show?”

  “I don’t ‘enjoy’ deceiving people.”

  “Well, you’d better get used to it.”

  “I don’t think I can. Ever.”

  He turned then, his nostrils flaring slightly, and clamped
his hands over her shoulders. “Just remember it’s for a good cause—your pocketbook.”

  “And yours!”

  He hesitated a second, his eyes luminous with the moonlight. “Especially mine.” For a split second his gaze drifted to her already swollen lips.

  Valerie was sure he was going to kiss her again. Her breath caught in her throat. Her pulse thundered over the muted hum of the boat’s powerful engines. Sweat dampened her skin. But he dropped his hands, turned on his heel and, muttering angrily between clenched teeth, disappeared down the stairs.

  She let her breath out in a rush and sagged against the railing. Without exception, Hale Donovan was the most aggravating man she’d ever met in her life! How in the world was she going to pretend to be head over heels in love with him for the remainder of the cruise?

  “You can do it, Val,” she assured herself, though deep inside she was shaking. “He’s just a man—that’s all. Just one damned, arrogant, opinionated male!”

  And a man, who, with just one kiss, could rock her to her very soul! Somehow she’d have to put a lid on her emotions. She didn’t dare let Hale think, even for a split second, that she felt anything for him. If he had a glimmer of how he affected her, the game would be over. Because, like it or not, it wasn’t Hale she didn’t trust.

  With a sinking desperation she realized she couldn’t trust herself!

  Hale tossed back the last of his brandy. He heard the rain lash at the deck overhead. In the span of three short hours, the weather had turned from calm and muggy to turbulent. The boat, still heading northward, pitched and swayed beneath his feet.

  Aside from the crew, everyone on board The Regina had retired for the night, but Hale knew that sleep wouldn’t come easily. Though negotiations with Stowell were progressing, he felt restless and annoyed.

  For the first time since they’d set sail, Hale second-guessed himself. He’d thought that bringing along a woman posing as his fiancée would make things easier, but he’d been wrong. Dead wrong. Fending off Regina’s advances would have been child’s play compared to dealing with the gamut of unfamiliar emotions that toyed with him.

  In less than twenty-four hours, he’d felt everything from elation to jealousy. Worse yet, he’d had trouble keeping his mind on business. Frowning so hard his jaw hurt, he snapped off the lights in the salon and walked down the short hallway to his stateroom.

  Once there he yanked off his tie, kicked off his shoes, flopped on the bed and stared at the connecting door between his cabin and hers. Was she asleep, or as restless as he?

  God help him, he thought, feeling the boat roll and pitch, but he had to remember that his interest in Valerie Pryce was all just part of their bargain. It didn’t matter that she was the most intelligent and innately beautiful woman he’d ever met in his life. And it sure as hell didn’t matter that she had the sharpest tongue he’d ever encountered. She was off-limits. Period. And all their touches and smiles, winks and kisses were part of the deal, nothing more.

  Valerie Pryce was an actress, and apparently a damned good one, because just for a moment when he’d kissed her, he had thought she’d responded. But that wasn’t possible. Or was it?

  “Cut it out!” he muttered angrily at himself while squeezing his eyes shut. Soon it would be over. He’d own William Stowell’s company and Valerie would leave.

  He hadn’t forgotten that she had six months to work with him, but he’d already planned to make her life miserable at work, pay her off and be done with her. He couldn’t have an ex-fiancée hanging around the office, could he?

  A sharp jab of conscience stung him, but he ignored it. Valerie Pryce was a woman, and unfortunately, like most others, money was the only thing she understood. Oh, she could talk about a lot of things—like life and love and happiness—but when push had come to shove, Valerie had shown her true colors. She had a price just like everyone else.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Miserable weather!” Regina grumbled, tossing her cell phone aside. She snapped off the television and stalked to the window, glaring at the rain beating against the glass.

  “It’s supposed to break up tomorrow.” Beth, sipping from a ceramic mug, thumbed through the latest issue of an interior design magazine.

  “Tomorrow?” Regina groaned. “You mean we have another day cooped up in here?”

  “You’ll survive,” Beth predicted.

  “I doubt it!”

  Valerie, who had spent the day finishing her book, read the last page and tossed the mystery aside. Regina was right. The day had been long. William and Hale had spent every waking minute locked in the den, working out the details of the sale. To Valerie’s disappointment, they hadn’t even joined the rest of the entourage for lunch.

  Frowning, Regina announced, “I may as well get dressed for dinner!”

  Beth didn’t look up, just flipped through the slick pages of her magazine. “It’s still two hours away.”

  “Well, there’s nothing else to do!”

  Valerie stood and stretched. She wasn’t about to sit around and listen to Regina rant. “If it’s okay, I’d like to see the galley.”

  Beth grinned. “It’s okay by me—but remember, the galley is Hans’s sacred turf.”

  “He doesn’t like anyone butting in,” Regina said.

  “I don’t blame him,” Valerie replied with a cheery smile, “but I think I’ll take my chances nonetheless, and I swear I won’t ‘butt in.’ ”

  “It’s your life,” Regina muttered, but she offered Valerie the first genuine smile of the day.

  The galley, located down a short flight of stairs, was a small, compact room equipped with all the comforts of home compressed into a much smaller space. Several pots simmered on a two-burner stove, and the tangy odors of garlic and onion permeated the air, wafting deliciously.

  Hans, a portly man with thin blond hair, meat hooks for hands and a dour expression, was furiously chopping vegetables on the counter while muttering to himself. Diced mushrooms and scallions were already piled in small bowls near a stainless-steel sink.

  “Need any help?” Valerie offered, poking her head into the tiny room.

  “No!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s a wonder I can cook at all,” he grouched, glancing over his shoulder at Valerie, though he didn’t turn to face her. “No gas, so few burners, and this room—so hot!”

  Valerie thought the galley was a vast improvement over her own pantry-size kitchen in San Francisco. Complete with coffee maker, refrigerator, freezer, microwave, butcher-block counter and stove, The Regina’s galley was clean and well equipped. Cupboards and a pantry filled one wall, and overhead, fluorescent bulbs offered bright, if artificial, light.

  “What’s for dinner tonight?”

  “Coq au vin.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “If it is, it will be a miracle,” he vowed, though the spicy fragrances wafting through the room belied his grumbling.

  “You know, I’d really be glad to lend a hand.”

  Turning at last, he folded his plump arms over his chest. “You are a guest.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t chop vegetables or wash dishes or boil water.”

  “Did Mrs. Stowell send you down here?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

  “Of course not. In fact, she and Regina warned me you wouldn’t be too thrilled if I tried to step foot on your ‘turf.’ ”

  “Did they?” He laughed heartily. “Well, they were right. Thank you, but no, I can manage very well. There’s not enough room for two.”

  “If you say so.”

  “But you’re welcome to watch.”

  And watch she did. For the next hour and a half. Surprised at the big man’s agility in the kitchen, Valerie found a stool and, like a schoolgirl learning her lessons, observed him adding seasoning and vegetables to his stock, never once taking the time to measure. While the stew simmered, he washed and tore spinach into individual salads, tossed on bits of ba
con and water chestnuts and whipped up salad dressing in a blender.

  He spoke little, but did take the time to explain what he was concocting. “Now there will be no surprise at dinner,” he said when he finally stopped to wipe his hands on his apron.

  “That’s all right. Believe me, I’ve had enough surprises in the past few days to last me a lifetime.”

  He chuckled. “Then perhaps you should get dressed?” Valerie glanced at her watch and cringed. Only fifteen minutes until Hans began serving. After last night’s meal, she wasn’t too enthused about dining formally. “You’re right. Thanks for the lessons.”

  “Anytime,” he said with a lift of one big shoulder.

  Valerie hurried to her stateroom, yanked off her clothes, then stared glumly at her closet. If tonight’s meal was anything like the previous night’s dinner, she again would be underdressed. “Too bad,” she mumbled, pulling out a simple black dress and her favorite magenta jacket. The fabric wasn’t elegant by any means and the tailored dress was perfect for the office, but definitely too demure for the dinner party. Unfortunately she had no choice.

  She wore black stockings and heels, and brushed her hair until it crackled, letting it fall in loose waves around her face. Then, after a touch of lipstick and mascara, she eyed her reflection and sighed.

  “Valerie?” Hale’s voice called through the connecting door. “You ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said under her breath. She opened the door and found him as sophisticated and handsome as the night before. Dressed in a gray dinner jacket, black slacks, crisp white shirt and tie, his hair neatly combed, he would fit right in with the dinner crowd. Even if his date didn’t.

  Valerie forced a smile and cheered herself with the thought that Hale’s gaze was warm and friendly as he offered her his arm. Her heart tripped, and for a second she couldn’t find her voice. She hooked her hand through the crook of his elbow and smelled the woodsy scent of his after-shave. Dear Lord, he was handsome. She hadn’t seen him since breakfast, and in that short time she’d forgotten just how imposing and overwhelming he could be.

  The Stowells were already in the dining salon when Valerie and Hale arrived, arms linked. Regina, wearing an emerald-colored gown and diamond necklace, glanced at Valerie’s outfit and looked away, compressing her lips to cover a smile.