by Jackie Braun
“I need to get cleaned up.”
Nate nodded. She was right, of course. He should take her back to his cottage where she could shower while he swung by the marina. He’d been gone several hours. In the meantime, a couple of yachts were due in today, one of them making the Saint Lawrence loop that took the big crafts from the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean all the way inland to the Great Lakes system. This one was out of Fort Myers, Florida, and was destined for Chicago.
Despite his responsibilities back at the marina, Nate said, “Lake’s right there.”
“Excuse me?”
“The lake.” He nodded in its direction a second time. “It’s still a bit chilly this time of year.” In fact, this far north, it rarely became anything other than what the polite termed refreshing. With a grin, he added, “But I never knew you to mind a cool dip.”
“Are you daring me, Nathaniel Matthews?”
How was it he found her arched eyebrows and use of his full name so damned sexy?
His first genuine smile in days unfurled. “Yes, ma’am. I believe I am.”
Her chin rose. “I don’t like to swim alone. In fact, that was my grandmother’s rule.”
“Swim with a buddy,” he finished for her before his throat closed.
“So …” Holly blinked guilelessly at him as she backed toward the water, shedding her shoes as she went. “Will you be my buddy, Nate?”
I’ll be anything you damn well want me to be, he nearly replied.
But that would be foolish, not to mention presumptuous. Holly wasn’t asking him to be anything but a friend. She had someone waiting for her back in her country. Someone she might not love, but who was far more suitable to her station in life.
He reminded himself of that fact again and again as he watched her wade backward into the water, her smile as tempting as a siren’s song. He found it didn’t matter. He loved seeing her like this: smiling, having fun and acting very much like the girl she’d once been.
Except she was all woman now.
Awareness pummeled Nate as the waves lapped gently at Holly’s body, first wetting her calves and then her thighs. Soon enough, the capri pants she had on were soaked. They stuck to her body like a second skin, tugging a groan from deep in his chest. Need built inside him, even more fierce than the likes of which he’d experienced the evening before when he’d kissed her. Nate decided it was just as well that when the water reached her waist, Holly turned and dove under.
She bobbed to the surface a few feet away. Then she stood. It was all Nate could do to remain on his feet—his knees felt that weak.
The water was just below her breasts now. And the blouse she wore had turned all but translucent, molding to her curves. The water was very cold indeed.
He held his breath as she leaned over and used her cupped hand to splash some of it on her face and hair, removing the last traces of mud.
“Aren’t you coming in?” she called to him as she straightened.
Any other woman and he would have been galloping through the surf at that invitation. But this was Holly. If Nate waded in to where she stood, he would want to touch her. He would need to touch her, he amended silently. Just as he had the other night. And if he touched her …
Well, it wouldn’t be a good idea. For either of them. He decided to leave it at that, even though his imagination was, at that very moment, busy filling in all of the blanks.
“Nah. I’ll sit this one out. I can be your buddy from here.”
He lowered himself onto a stump, watching enviously as she played in the surf.
Lucky water. Lucky waves.
A moment later, she waded ashore, wringing out her hair and the ends of her blouse as she came.
“All better,” she announced, gingerly picking her way through the rocks and vegetation.
Nate begged to differ, but he merely nodded.
When she reached him, her brows drew together. “Nate, didn’t you warn me to watch out for poison ivy around here?”
“Sure did.” He repeated the old saw: “Leaves of three, leave ‘em be.”
She pressed a finger to her lower lip. “I fear you may be surrounded by it.”
He glanced about only a second before launching himself off the log. Damn, if she wasn’t right. How could he have missed it, trained outdoorsman as he was? But, of course, he knew. He’d been distracted.
Very, very distracted.
To her credit, Holly didn’t tease him for the faux pas he hadn’t made in a dozen years. Nor did she laugh. She didn’t even crack a smile. Though, from her expression, he could tell it was costing her. Nate did the only thing that he could under the circumstances. He forgot all about dignity and decorum. With a whoop suitable to the Native American warriors who had long ago occupied the island, he made a beeline for the water, stripping off his shirt and shedding his shoes as he ran. He could only hope that any of the plant’s oil on his body would be washed away before an allergic reaction had time to get started.
He blasted through the shallows, despite the rocky bottom, and headed for the drop-off he remembered to the far right of where they’d come in. Just at the threshold of where the water changed from aquamarine to deep blue, he tucked himself into a ball, launched himself in the air and hollered, “Geronimo!”
Unfortunately, his launch turned out to be a bit premature. In his defense, it had been a long time since Nate had done a cannonball at this actual site. Years, in fact. He landed on his bottom end with a thud just shy of the deep water. Thank God he was still wearing his shorts or his butt would have endured a sandpapering the likes of which the old cabinets in some of the resort’s cabins had endured prior to being refinished.
“I give you a six,” Holly hollered from the shore. She was holding up the corresponding number of fingers and grinning madly.
She looked adorable and desirable, two adjectives Nate normally wouldn’t put together. But this was Holly. Just that quickly, he was sucked back in time. Foolish though he knew it to be, he called, “Come on out, sunshine, and show me what a ten looks like.”
She planted her hands on her hips, her smile just this side of jaunty. “Do you really think you can handle the embarrassment, Matthews?”
Though he could reach the bottom, he flipped onto his back and floated as if he hadn’t a care in the world. And, damn, if he didn’t feel that way at the moment.
“Bring it on,” he challenged.
She dashed through the surf, grinning like a kid the entire time. No one would mistake her for a princess just then, Nate thought. Idly, he wondered what old Phil would think. When she reached the drop-off, she executed a perfect tuck-and-launch before disappearing under the water.
Oh, yeah. A definite ten.
Then she rose up from the water like some damned mermaid, flipping back the honeyed locks of her long hair, and he doubled the score.
“So?” she asked.
He waded toward her and took the plunge. Literally. The lake bottom fell away and Nate found himself treading water, his arms reaching for and then reeling in the one woman who filled his fantasies, but who could never fulfill the dreams he’d almost forgotten existed.
“You’re a ten,” he said truthfully, as they treaded water together.
“Really? I haven’t lost my touch?”
“Not in the least.” Then, even though Nate called himself a dozen kinds of fool, he kissed her.
Holly forgot to kick her legs. Come to that, she forgot to breathe. They wound up submerged, mouths locked together. Desire like she’d only allowed herself to imagine washed over her, as insistent as the waves.
Nate kicked upward, taking them to the surface, where they both gasped for air. Even so, they remained locked in an embrace—an embrace suited to lovers, given the way their bodies were pressed tightly together. His warmth helped take away the lake water’s chill.
The first word Holly managed was not thanks or even sorry. Rather, it was “Please.”
It was a foolish plea. Please
what? She wasn’t sure she had an answer for herself, let alone one for Nate. Thus it came as a relief when he didn’t ask her for clarification. Instead, he kicked sideways, one arm jutting out in powerful sidestrokes that moved them inland. Before she knew it, her feet were once again planted on the seabed. They rose together. She felt oddly vulnerable, naked in a way that went beyond her soaked clothes. And one glance down had her cringing. Good heavens, her shirt was nearly see-through and the bra she was wearing wasn’t much better.
Embarrassment made sense right now. But another emotion lingered with it, oddly reminiscent of the feeling she’d gotten when she’d secretly chartered a jet to America and then asked Henry to drive her to the airport.
On the shore, they picked up their discarded shoes and headed for the truck in silence. All the while awareness taunted her. The man looked good in wet cargo shorts, better, in fact, than most men of her acquaintance managed to look outfitted in designer attire.
Nate pulled a folded blanket from the truck bed, shaking leaves and debris from it before handing it to Holly.
“You’re probably cold.” He cleared his throat.
Holly felt her cheeks grow warm. Yes, that much was obvious. Gratefully, she pulled it around her body and slipped into the truck’s cab. In addition to her breasts’ embarrassing reaction to the chilly water, her teeth were chattering and her skin was prickled with gooseflesh, which was why she found it amazing that she still felt on fire.
The drive back to the main road was quiet. Nate drove slowly this time, glancing sideways with each rut they hit. Holly never said a word. She didn’t complain. She didn’t tease. She simply remained silent, her hands gripping the edges of the blanket around her. He could only imagine what she was thinking. God, he’d screwed up royally. No pun intended.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Again. He knew better after that kiss the night before. But once she’d been in his arms, her body pressed against his … He swallowed thickly now.
I’m not a saint.
But it was more than his lack of restraint that was the issue here. It was the woman. Holly was his first love, and even though Nate had long tried to deny it, she was his only love. Which was why he would both treasure and regret kissing her today. This was a memory that would haunt him long after the woman was gone.
He had barely pulled the truck to a stop outside his cottage and she had already unbuckled her seat belt and was reaching for the door handle.
“If you could telephone Hank while I change my clothes, I would appreciate it,” she called over her shoulder as she headed into the house.
The screen door squawked open before slamming closed behind her. Nate sighed heavily. So, she really did plan to return to the mainland for the time between now and when she could check in at the chalet. It made sense. Perfect sense. What didn’t make sense was the fact that Nate sat on his deck, sipping a beer, rather than making the requested phone call.
Holly was only in America for a short time, he rationalized as he waited for her. That was long enough to disturb his peace, but not nearly long enough to satisfy his curiosity or his interest. He was being selfish perhaps, and definitely foolish, but he wanted as much of her as he could have, even if afterward her memory made him ache.
Besides, for a little while this afternoon, she’d looked so carefree and happy. Her laughter had echoed across the bay, every bit as enchanting as the loon’s call first thing on quiet mornings. He liked knowing that he had a hand in that. Taking another sip of beer, he decided that perhaps his reasons weren’t so selfish after all.
Half an hour later, he was still sitting in his favorite lounge chair, staring out at the view, when she opened the sliding glass door and joined him. She’d pulled her hair into a simple ponytail and had changed into a pair of crisp tan walking shorts. The blouse she wore was red, with rolled-up cuffs that buttoned just above her elbows.
“So, what time did Hank say he would be here?” she inquired.
Nate glanced past her. Just inside the house was the same stack of luggage with which she’d arrived the day before.
Had it really been a mere day since Nate’s life had been turned upside down? In less than twenty-four hours he’d gone from wishing she’d never come to wishing she never had to leave. He’d never been much of a fan of roller coasters, but he’d ride this one to the end.
“He, uh, can’t.” Nate rose upon saying so. It felt wrong to remain seated when offering a lie.
Holly blinked. “He can’t.”
“Sorry. No. His plane is booked. For the next few days, in fact.” Nate marveled at his talent for lying. If only he were this good when it came to playing poker with the guys. He would have been able to pay cash for the parcel of land just up the beach, rather than having had to jump through hoops to secure a bank loan.
“Another pilot, perhaps?”
“Hank said the pilots he would recommend are busy right now.” He hunched his shoulders. “Apparently, the storm threw schedules off.”
Holly’s expression darkened as reality set in. “Oh. Oh, my.”
“It’s all right. You can stay here until Sunday.” Nate felt the need to restrain his hands by putting them into the pockets of his still damp shorts when he added, “As my guest. In the, um, guest room.”
Also known as his boyhood bedroom. Fantasy central.
“I don’t know.”
She nibbled her lower lip. God help him, Nate wanted to do the same. Instead, he reminded her, “You slept in there last night.”
“Yes, but …” She gestured with her hand. “Hank.”
Ah, yes. Their snoring chaperone.
Guilt nipped at him only a little when he said, “Holly, come on. Despite what just went on at the lake, you can trust me.”
She looked abashed. “Of course I can. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. It’s just …”
“Just what?”
They eyed one another for a moment. Then she leveled him with her words.
“I don’t know that I can trust myself.”
Nate did the only thing a man could do after a beautiful woman offered up a declaration like that. He hightailed it to his pickup truck and sped away. In this case, only a short distance away. Specifically, to the resort’s marina, even though it was close enough to walk.
Good God! What was he getting himself into? After slowly making its way to the top, that roller coaster he was riding was not only taking a steep plunge, but also threatening to go off the tracks.
Holly didn’t trust herself around Nate?
He’d be lying if he claimed that wasn’t music to his ears. His ego wasn’t hurting at the moment, either, though other parts of him were damned uncomfortable, and not all of them could be found in his shorts. But he’d gone through this once before with her. He’d gotten involved, put his heart on the line. It had wound up good and busted.
The difference this time, Nate reminded himself, was that he would be going in with his eyes wide open, well aware that the odds were stacked against anything long-term. Sure, Holly was eager for a simpler life and confused about her supposed engagement to a man her mother had all but handpicked for her. But none of that meant she and Nate had a future together.
How would that work anyway? Which one of them would move? She couldn’t very well govern her country while living in his. And he couldn’t imagine giving up his blissfully low-key lifestyle to live in Morenci’s stylish capital city and run with the jet set.
The twins were at the marina when he entered the shop, which also served as the resort’s front desk. So was Mick Langley, who’d worked the main cash register since Nate was a toddler.
The man’s hair was solid gray now and his big hands gnarled with arthritis. He was past the age of retirement. Well past it. But he put in a full day’s work five days a week and he never complained. Heck, even on his days off he could be found somewhere on the resort grounds. He loved the place as much as Nate did.
“Hey, Nate.”
“Mick.” He
glanced out at the marina, where a couple of big cabin cruisers were moored in the outermost slips. “Those yachts get in without incident?”
“Yep. The Burns brothers might be young, but they’ve been taught well.”
“Thanks to you.”
The older man acknowledged the compliment with a shrug. “They’re an asset to the resort. So are you. You’ve done your folks proud.”
“Thanks.”
Nate wondered what his parents would think if they knew Holly was back. They’d liked her. They’d also witnessed his heartache.
“They comin’ for a visit anytime soon?” Mick asked.
“I spoke to my mom a couple days ago. They’re thinking the end of July, but no firm plans have been made yet. Dad’s playing in a local golf tournament.”
It seemed his dad was always playing in a golf tournament these days, Nate thought fondly.
“Be good to seem ‘em.” Mick nodded.
“Yes.”
Eager for something to occupy his mind, Nate went behind the counter and scanned the day’s receipts. They’d rented out two fishing boats and a handful of canoes thanks to the calm waters after the storm. Bicycle rentals were up, too.
He tucked the receipts back in the drawer. “Anything else I need to know about?”
“Not really.” Mick scratched one wiry sideburn then and snorted. “Gave out a lot of free bait today.”
Nate nodded. “I figured our guests deserved a little perk after the storm knocked out the cable.”
“I’d say that was a good call. Been a lot of fishing from the dock today. Adults, kids … In my book that sure beats sitting around watching the boob tube anyday.”
Holly had liked fishing. She’d even baited her own hook back in the day.
“They catch anything?” Nate asked.
“Sure did. Saw a few of them haul in some serious keepers.”
“Yeah?” Half his mouth crooked up in a smile, even as his mind wandered again to the “keeper” he’d pulled out of the bay a few hours earlier.
“A couple twelve-inch perch,” the older man said.
“Hmm. Not bad.”
“And a sixteen-inch rock bass.”