by Cherry Adair
“Flip the damn coin.”
Nick grinned, slid Cat a wink and flipped the coin. It caught the sunset as it spun head over head and onto the back of his hand. He slapped his palm down, then lifted it to look. “Heads it is. Should I close my eyes, or would you prefer I go below and take my time finding something cold to drink?”
“How about swimming back to the marina via Alaska?”
“Luke!”
Nick laughed. “Man, you’re a sore winner. I’m off to find some compelling reason to stay below.” He quirked an eyebrow at Luke. “Unless you want me to stay and coach from the sidelines?”
“I certainly don’t need coaching, but there’s no need to make yourself scarce. This’ll only take a minute.”
“A minute?” Nick gave her a sympathetic look. “Poor Catherine, being instructed by someone with such a limited repertoire. Let me—”
“For a man who couldn’t even dredge up a date for tonight, you’re a fine one to talk,” Luke told him sourly.
“I had a date tonight, old son. There she is. About to be mashed by my best friend. Go figure how I ended up being the third wheel.”
I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, Luke thought as Nick went below. Luke dragged on heavy jeans shorts over his thin swimsuit—the closest thing to body armor he could come up with at such short notice. He shifted his stance so he could pull up the zipper.
“What on earth are you doing?” Cat asked as she flopped into a chair. “You’re going to roast alive in those hot things.”
True. On the other hand, he was already on high boil just looking at her and imagining his lips on her mouth.
“I don’t want to get you overexcited. Stand up.”
Cat grinned. She rose from the chair and reached up to hold on to the rigging to keep her balance. It was a centerfold stance, with one slender arm curved over her head, the other at her side. The soft fabric of her dress molded nicely to the gentle swell of her breasts and clung to her hips and long legs.
“Overexcited? By a little kiss? Oh, puh-leeze. Get real.”
Ahh. Fighting words. A challenge if he ever heard one. Unfortunately, this was one he’d prefer not to accept.
Kiss Cat? Touch his mouth to hers? Feel her breath? Man. This was a bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Look what had happened the last time. He had to refuse.
The words hovered like something bitter on the tip of his tongue. Just say no, he told himself. But he saw the tantalizing sparkle in her amber eyes, the joyous lift of her lips. The knowledge he read in her face—that no matter what she asked of him, he’d come through for her—dissolved his resistance.
He was doomed.
“How do you feel?” he asked cautiously.
Her eyes opened wide. “Just fine. Why?”
“Tummy okay?”
Their eyes met as they both remembered that night. Her chin came up; her amber eyes dared him. “I’m feeling in the pink of good health. Smooch away.”
Accustomed to the gentle pitch of the boat, he strolled over to stand in front of her, then gave her a reproving look.
“You have to concentrate here, Cat. There are kisses and then there are kisses. I’ll show you how it’s supposed to be done. But you have to close your eyes and focus on the subtle nuances.” Which would be a nice change from the last time he’d mangled her lips in a fit of misplaced passion.
Tiger eyes alight with mirth, Cat looked up at him. “Subtle nuances? You?”
“Remove your hat and glasses, please,” he instructed sternly. He could make this a quick tutorial. He didn’t have to get involved. It was just a kiss. Two sets of lips touching briefly. Nothing to it.
Cat dutifully pulled off the baseball cap she’d been wearing and tossed it down the companionway. Freed from the confines of the hat, her hair went berserk. An explosion of shiny Titian-red curls demanded to be crushed beneath his fingers. Luke kept his marauding fingers and itchy palms at his sides.
She removed her sunglasses and glanced around for somewhere safe to put them. He plucked them from her, whipped off his own shades and set both on the chair she’d just vacated. He straightened and scrutinized her face. The anticipation was going to kill him. But now, when he suddenly had the opportunity to show her...whatever it was he wanted to show her, he was scared spitless.
He saw in her eyes the memory of another kiss. Another challenge. But the only miserable consolation about that disastrous night had been Cat’s claim to have only vague memories about what had happened. Thank God. He didn’t want those memories to taint this. Which was just a simple kiss.
He was delusional. This wasn’t just a kiss. He knew that. His body knew that. He just didn’t want Cat to know it. He felt the thud of his heart deep in his chest. Felt the tightening of his jeans. Felt a rush of desire so strong, so profound he simply stood there, riding the gentle buck of the waves, and looked down at her.
“How long are you going to stand there staring at me?” she demanded, chin out, eyes bright. She narrowed those witchy eyes, and Luke knew he was on a slippery slope wearing wet, leather-soled shoes.
“In a hurry?”
“Well, no...”
He reached up and anchored her fingers on the rigging with his own. His hand covered hers completely. Slowly, he slid his right hand under her hair to cup the back of her damp neck. The filaments clung to his hand and arm like living flame. A pulse throbbed a jungle beat in his ears. The universe around them bled into soft focus, leaving Cat in sharp relief before him. Beautiful Cat. His Cat.
He was going to have to make this a lasting memory.
“You have to take a breath,” he reminded her, noticing she’d stopped inhaling completely when he touched her. Her breasts brushed his chest as she drew in a shaky breath.
“Right.”
Her green dress wasn’t particularly low cut. Luke could just see the freckled swell of her breasts above the fabric. But the thought of that soft material hiding her luscious breasts almost had him in cardiac arrest. She took another shuddery breath, and he caught a glimpse of shiny lime-green silk.
That teddy thing she’d bought the other day. Slick green silk over bare skin. That thong riding between her legs... His fingers tightened imperceptibly on her nape. She tilted her face.
He lowered his head and touched his mouth to the pulse at her temple, and felt her slight start of surprise as he feathered his lips on the unsteady flutter he discovered there. He made soothing noises as his lips traveled across her cheek. Discovered the taste of her skin. Gauged her response to the lightest of touches. He ran the tip of his tongue experimentally across the eyelashes on her left eye. She murmured under her breath. He duplicated the action on her other lid. Her breath huffed out against his throat.
Luke shuddered as her hand crept around his waist. He removed it and patted it to her side, then lifted his mouth a fraction. “That’s lesson number...later. Hold your horses, woman.” He went back to her eyelids.
“Umm.”
Oh, yeah, more than umm.
Her skin felt incredibly soft and smooth under his exploring mouth. He imagined the heady taste of cinnamon as his lips skimmed across her hot cheek, the end of her nose, the other cheek. Cat’s fingers flexed restlessly under his on the ropes. Her breasts brushed lightly against his bare chest as she started to lean into him again. He shifted out of reach, dry tinder eluding the gasoline-drenched torch.
“Nuh-uh,” he teased, already as hard as the mast.
His lips brushed the corner of her mouth. She made a strangled, yearning sound low in her throat. Luke resisted the primitive urge to crush her beneath him and take her right there beneath the sunny sky, out on deck. Cool your jets. He didn’t want to scare her away. Not now. Not when he was so close to heaven.
They touched in only three places: their fingers gripping the rig
ging, his hand on her nape and the butterfly-light touch of his mouth on hers. Yet his entire body seemed sensitized by her close proximity. Her breath smelled of the Dr Pepper she’d been drinking. Sweet, spicy. Cat. Ahh, Cat. Just what the doctor ordered. Too bad he was on a restricted diet.
Luke angled his head slightly and nipped her lower lip with his teeth. She nibbled back. He laved the bites with his tongue. She licked his lip like a frustrated, hungry cat. He brushed his mouth back and forth over hers. She hummed and parted her lips. Luke settled his mouth on hers. Her lips responded automatically, melding with his, anticipating the shift and slide of his tongue.
He was inside.
The scented flavor of her mouth tasted achingly familiar. Luke had imagined this for so long, it felt like coming home. He shuddered as desire, hot, strong and pounding, surged through his body like a drug. He felt dizzy with it. High. Ridiculously, disproportionately happy from one tame little kiss.
But it wasn’t tame. It was hot. Wild. Surging.
Teeth, tongues, lips, melding together in a mind-blowing kiss hot enough to evaporate the water of the Bay.
Brake. Brake. Brake.
Luke lifted his head and broke contact. “That should do it.”
She looked up at him, eyes dazed, lips damp, cheeks pink.
“Hmm, not bad.” She seemed to shake herself out of a fog as she stumbled back a step. “I wonder how Nick does it.”
* * *
IT WAS THE night after The Kiss.
Catherine snuggled back into the squishy cushions on Nick’s sofa, ignoring the movie they were watching. She closed her eyes, picturing Luke’s face after The Kiss. Annoyance? Shock at her brazenness? His expression had been impossible to read.
Twenty-four hours later, she still felt the jolt that kiss had given her heart. She wished she could bottle the sensation and take it out in the dark of night to hug close. She’d never felt such a weird mixture of peace and agitation in her life.
It was exactly as if she had come home. As if she had stood outside, shivering in the snow, looking into the window at everything she’d ever wanted in her life. It was all right there at her fingertips. All she had to do was reach out and grab it.
Unfortunately, he’d suddenly remembered he had a date. They’d sped back to the marina, Nick cranky because Luke insisted he use the motor instead of the sail. Luke had rushed into the condo, showered, changed and raced out as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
Catherine had lied and told him she had a date, too. Then spent several boring hours sitting through a subtitled German movie staring at the back of some Luke-lookalike’s head before dragging herself home.
Despite a restless, sleepless night, she hadn’t heard his return. But this morning when she’d left to go out for a while he was sound asleep on the sofa.
Catherine touched her lips. How odd that they felt and looked just the same. When Luke had touched his mouth to hers last night, something inside her had shifted and stirred. Changed. She’d literally felt like Sleeping Beauty awakening from a deep sleep. And she realized she hadn’t known what love was until now.
She’d been so blinded by the sheer sexy maleness of Lucas Van Buren that she hadn’t noticed herself tumbling headlong into a forever kind of love.
She’d made an eyes-wide-open decision to give herself one last chance at seeing if what she felt could possibly be reciprocated. But she was a realist. Luke wasn’t ever going to settle down. What if she got what she wanted? Could she walk away when it was over? Be careful what you wish for. You might get it.
Yes. Because the alternative was never knowing, always aching, spending the rest of her life empty and unfulfilled. Something with Luke was better than everything with somebody else. And when it was inevitably over, she’d have the memory of Luke’s heat to keep her warm.
Catherine hugged a cushion. Insecurity squeezed her chest. Luke had sure been in one big old hurry to get away from her last night. It had been more subtle than nine years ago only because he had more finesse now. Was she doing irreparable damage to what she already had with him? Perhaps she should leave well enough alone. Luke cared for her; she knew he did. Maybe that should be enough. If she got too greedy, she took the chance of losing it all.
“Hey, Nick?”
With a grin, Nick pointed the remote control at the TV and the sound went off. “Wanna analyze The Kiss?”
She squeezed the cushion to her aching middle. “Let’s.”
“Scared?”
“Spitless,” Catherine admitted. “He sped out of there last night like his hair was on fire. How was he at work today?”
“Like his hair was on fire.” Nick’s dimples showed. Easy for him to be amused. “You were priceless yesterday, honey. Trust me. The fish might be struggling on the hook, but you just have to be strong enough to hang on to that line.”
“I’m terrified. I don’t want to force him. I just want—I want...”
“Him to love you as much as you love him.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “Luke’s a hard nut, you know that. He’s got this protective instinct a mile wide.”
“The last thing I want is for him to feel obligation.”
“Catherine, he can’t help feeling some obligation to take care of you. He’s pretty much your only family. It’s not in Luke’s nature to turn his back.”
Her frown turned to a scowl, and her heart felt like a heavy rock in her chest. “Are you telling me Luke is humoring me because of some asinine sense of responsibility?”
“No. I’m telling you Luke thinks he’s humoring you because he feels responsible for you.”
“Huh? Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No, it isn’t.” Nick picked up a cold slice of pizza out of the box beside him. “Luke wants you, Catherine. Trust me on this. I know my pal. He’s about to shed his skin, he wants you so bad. He’s resisting the pull with every particle of his willpower. And as we both know, Luke has awesome willpower. Remember when he gave up smoking? Cold turkey. And when we bet we wouldn’t drink beer for a month? It was on our first college break. I caved in two weeks. Despite winning, Luke stuck it out the exact thirty days.”
“If he wants me,” Catherine said, completely frustrated, “why doesn’t he just...have me? Why resist? What’s the point? I’m here, I’m available. I want him. Dammit, Nick. Why?”
“Have you noticed what type of woman our friend dates?”
“Sure,” Catherine said miserably. “Petite blondes, miniature brunettes. Boobs out to here. And of course, all of them are sexy and beautiful. Why do men always have to go for a ‘type,’ anyway?”
“Other than the sexy and beautiful part, which you are, have you ever noticed how much his type doesn’t resemble you?”
Catherine sank her chin into the cushion she was clutching. “Oh, great! Thanks for pointing that out.”
“He’ll date anyone as long as she doesn’t resemble you. Interesting, huh?”
“That isn’t an answer, and I think this conversation just took a useless U-turn.”
“I’m just reminding you of Luke Van Buren’s amazing self-control and willpower. Which he has to spare. Not to mention he’s as stubborn as a mule. It’s taking him longer than I thought to separate the woman from The Kid. Personally, I’ve always thought he dated The Many to keep him safe from The One.” Before he could explain what that meant, he was interrupted by a loud banging at the front door. Nick glanced up and grinned. “Speak of the devil.”
CHAPTER NINE
BAM, BAM, BAM.
It sounded like the fire department responding to a five-alarm blaze. If it was Luke out there, he was about to pound down the door. Catherine sat up from her reclining position on the sofa and curled bare legs under her. She and Nick looked at each other and grinned in perfect harmony.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“Yo, Nick? You home?”
Bam. Bam.
Nick turned off the lamp, quickly lit the three candles on the coffee table, then came up beside her chair and ruffled her hair so it flip-flopped wildly around her head.
“Rub your lips. Hard,” he instructed, before yelling, “Hey! I’m coming, cool your jets!”
“Where were you? Peru?” Luke demanded, almost falling inside the room when Nick opened the door. “Is Cat—there you are.” He gave a suspicious glance around. “Why’s it so cold and dark in here?”
“Nick bought an air conditioner. Great, huh?”
“What’d it do? Suck up all the electricity?” Luke came farther into the room. One glance took in the flickering candles, their wineglasses, the pillows piled up on the end of the sofa. Another glance took in her shorts and tank top. The third bulletlike look zeroed in on her red, swollen lips. He frowned. His glance shot down to her chest, where her nipples were hard from the cold.
“How was your ‘business’ dinner?” Cat inquired, stretching out her bare legs on Nick’s chenille sofa. She tried for an innocent-but-really-guilty look.
“The client was enthusiastic.” Obviously Luke wasn’t going to notice her facial expression at the moment. He was still glaring at her chest.
“I just bet she was,” Cat mumbled, appalled at the apple-green jealousy she was experiencing. “Want a glass of wine?” she asked, reaching for the sweating bottle in the ice bucket.
“Your mother’s on the phone.”
She shot him a startled look. “My mother?”
“On the phone. Upstairs.”
“You put Catherine’s mother on hold while you came down here?” Nick sat on the arm of the sofa, then rested his hand on her shoulder. “Where’s she calling from?”
“Didn’t ask.”
Catherine rose and searched for her sandals. “Last time I heard, she was in Portugal.” She slipped her feet into them. “She didn’t call collect, did she?”
“No.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go see what she wants, and then say no, okay?”