by J. R. Ward
“Your Buddy’s quite the philosopher,” Nick said, eventually. “I suppose I owe him an apology.”
“He’s a pretty forgiving sort.” Nervous, she began to babble. “I once dropped a sledgehammer on his foot and broke it in three places. His foot, of course, not the hammer. He got over it, although he still gives me a wide circle when I carry heavy tools…”
Abruptly, Carter clamped her mouth shut before more inane words tumbled out. She was trapped between wanting to run away from him and wanting to make plans for a good long sail over the water.
She heard him approach. When she looked up, she saw his pale eyes were no longer remote. They were burning.
“I guess I owe you an apology as well,” Nick said, his voice a low rumble.
A shiver of anticipation went through her.
He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Since I’ve met you, I think I’ve apologized to you more than I have any other woman.”
“If you’re warming up to another one, it’s only been twice.”
“As I said…” His fingertips brushed over her cheek, down to her jaw. “I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion about you and Buddy.”
“We’ve never been more than good friends.”
“I can see that now. I’m just not used to women like you.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What kind of a woman am I?”
His eyes scanned over her face and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Clueless.”
She frowned. “Thanks. Remind me not to come here for compliments when I have body image problems.”
Nick laughed and then grew somber.
“I don’t think you have any idea how beautiful you are.” His voice was hypnotic, a blend of rasp and purr that was making her temporarily forget her doubts about him. “And you’ve been keeping me up at night, wondering whether I remembered it right.”
“Remembered what?” she croaked.
“That your lips taste like sweet melon.”
Carter’s heart leapt to her throat. He was going to kiss her. She knew it. Wanted it.
He stepped in closer.
“You’re one hell of a woman.” Nick reached his hand underneath the weight of her hair and stroked her neck. “But you’re a rotten eavesdropper.”
Carter flushed as the apology she’d been waiting to offer came out.
“I’m sorry about that,” she mumbled. “I got lost trying to find my way out of your house and I didn’t mean to intrude. I—”
“Did you enjoy hearing that Candace was leaving because of you?”
At the sound of the other woman’s name, Carter pulled back sharply. With a few faltering steps, she took refuge behind the table and began picking up napkins.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I remember other parts of the conversation more vividly.”
“Really?” His voice changed back to the laconic drawl she was used to hearing. She watched as the heat in his eyes dimmed and his cool remoteness returned.
While he waited for her to explain, she wondered how honest she should be. Did she want to admit she was scared of getting hurt? She didn’t think so. She was already feeling vulnerable.
Then Nick spoke before she did. “I’m no angel, Carter, and I’ve never pretended to be one. But don’t condemn me because I’m honest. There are no guarantees in any relationship. I believe in stating that upfront and getting out when things aren’t working. It’s better than living in a fantasy.”
“But what about the women?”
“What about them?”
“They get hurt.” I’d get hurt, she thought to herself.
“They know what they’re getting into. Believe me, they’re tough enough to handle it.” His voice was jaded.
Feeling way out of her league, Carter looked down at the napkins she’d wadded up in her hands. “Are you still planning to ask me out for that sail?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And what do you think we’ll do when we’re alone?”
“Eat, drink, swim. Enjoy the day.” When she glanced up at his pause, he finished, “Make love.”
Her heart began jumping around in her chest. It was what she wanted to hear but it also frightened her.
She took a deep breath. “And, in your spirit of honesty, would you like to tell me where all that is going to take us?”
The frown that appeared on his face wasn’t encouraging. Neither was the long silence that followed.
Carter laughed stiffly. “If I go by those tight lips of yours and all this resounding quiet, should I take it the answer is nowhere?”
He wrenched a hand through his hair. “Of course not.”
“So what are we doing?”
“I don’t know.” His voice sounded frustrated.
“No wonder your women get confused,” she said gruffly. “Is this what you always say to them?”
“No. It isn’t.”
“So what is?”
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his khakis and looked uncomfortable. “I tell them not to get serious. That I’m not looking for anything long-term. That if they come across a better offer, they should take it.”
Carter sighed and shook her head sadly. “I don’t know why I asked.”
“Do you want me to lie to you?” He raised his hands up with irritation. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s not what just came out of your mouth. I don’t like being reminded how foolhardy it would be to get involved with you.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
He shook his head back and forth. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m sorry.”
“That makes three.”
He fixed her with a level stare, his eyebrows arched.
“Three apologies.”
Nick’s laugh was short but it reached his eyes. “I guess I’m beginning to make up for all those years of being an insensitive son of a bitch. Never thought that’d happen.”
Their eyes met and held. When he spoke again, his voice had softened. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Good. I don’t want to get hurt.”
“And when I say I don’t know what’s ahead, I mean it’s not clear to me how you fit in.” His face was serious. She sensed he was giving her the best answer he could.
“Fit in with what?” she prompted.
“The way things usually go between women and me.”
A spark of hope caught fire in her chest. “I suppose if your reputation is anything to go by, that’s probably a good thing.”
“I think it is.” There was a lengthy pause. “So the weather’s going to be good tomorrow.”
“Really,” she said cautiously.
“It’ll be a good day to be out on the lake.”
It was a long time before she answered him.
“All right. Let’s go.”
The next morning, Carter spent an hour pacing around inside her tent after breakfast. The problem she was facing, aside from the fact that she was about to be alone with Nick for the whole day, was that she had nothing to wear.
Which was laughable. She hadn’t worried about her wardrobe in years. Yet there she was, on the side of a mountain, wondering which pair of khaki shorts would look better to a man she had no business getting involved with in the first place.
Reminding herself that it was just a boat ride and not the Oscars, she dropped to her knees and dug into her duffel again, fishing through the stacks of folded T-shirts and shorts, looking for an inspiration that remained elusive. The homogeneity of the whites, blacks, and khakis struck her for the first time as disappointing. She didn’t have a wardrobe, she thought. She had a uniform.
Carter finally settled on a pair of shorts, changed into them, and put on a clean, white tank top that showed off her tanned arms. After running a brush through her hair, she filled her backpack with a pair of purple flip-flops, that mystery novel she’d almost finished, and her baseball cap. On a whim, s
he tossed the brush in and was about to step outside when she realized she’d forgotten her bathing suit. Wading through the bag, she searched in vain for the black one-piece.
“Dammit.”
“What’s wrong?” Ellie said, putting her head in through the tent flap.
“I’m late and I can’t find my bathing suit.”
“You can borrow one of mine.”
Relief struck. “Thanks. That would be great.”
Ellie disappeared and returned with a bundle wrapped in a towel. “Bathing suit, towel, and sunblock.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Carter crammed the wad into her backpack as the two went out into the sunshine.
“So I hope you have fun on your date,” Ellie said with a teasing lilt.
“It’s just a sail.”
“Sure it is.”
“Really.” Carter tried to sound serious but, with all her nervous excitement, it was hard to pull off.
“Uh-huh. Like dinner and a movie is just food and a chance to take a load off in the dark?”
“See you later,” Carter said firmly while trying not to grin.
As she raced down the mountain, she couldn’t believe what she was doing.
The shock of it all didn’t slow her down one bit, however.
When she approached the boathouse, she saw that the sailboat had been taken off its mooring and was tied to the dock. Its teak gunnels and brass riggings gleamed in the sun, and the thick wooden mast waved lazily to the sky.
She flushed as she saw Nick appear out of the cabin. He was wearing a Harvard sweatshirt and a pair of black trunks. His hair looked wet, as if he’d just been swimming, and he had on those dark sunglasses. With fluid power, he leapt off the boat onto the dock. His legs were tanned and muscular, clearly those of an athlete. With all that hardness and lack of spare fat, she knew he’d been doing some heavy-duty endurance training. She had to wonder when he found the time.
He bent down, picked up a picnic hamper, and casually hopped back on the boat. A tune, hummed under his breath, was carried up to her on the breeze.
“Don’t just stand there looking good,” he said over his shoulder. “Let’s get going.”
Carter blushed, wondering how long she’d been staring at him. How long he’d known she was there.
Stifling her embarrassment, she stepped onto the dock and said casually, “Nice boat.”
Nick offered her a hand up but she jumped aboard without his help and caught his grin at the rebuff. She stowed her gear and then went over to the console that controlled the boat’s discreet inboard motor.
“Shall we fire this baby up?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she looked over at him and felt a quickening deep inside her body. “What?”
“You know your way around a boat, don’t you?”
“Of course. Now are we going to get going?”
He laughed. “Sure. Just make sure she’s in neutral, pull the choke—”
She had the engine flaring to life before he finished the sentence.
“Cast off,” she told him, looking out to the lake.
“Hey, who’s captain here?”
“Who’s at the helm?” When she glanced over her shoulder, they shared a smile. “Cast off, mate.”
She grinned with satisfaction as Nick did as he was told.
10
NICK ENJOYED watching Carter at the helm. She had one hand on the boat’s wheel, the other on the engine controls, and a big smile on her face. Putting them in reverse, she gave the engine some throttle, pulled away from the dock, and executed a perfect turn in front of the boathouse.
“Nice maneuvering,” he said as she took them toward the open water.
“Thanks.”
“You do this a lot?”
“Every chance I get.”
“Me, too.”
Confident in her handling of the boat, he went fore and hoisted the mainsail. When he was satisfied with his rigging job, Nick came back to the cockpit.
“Let’s head south. We can tack over to a secluded bay that’s got a great swimming hole.”
“What’s the temperature of the lake?”
“About sixty-five degrees. Not cold enough to turn you into a Popsicle, but it’ll get your attention.”
The sailboat rode through the choppy waves in the bay with water slapping at its sides and spray coming over the bow. Overhead, the sky was clear, except for an occasional cloud, and sunshine rippled across the lake with flashes of gold. It was a perfect day in late June and Nick felt downright jubilant.
As well as very attracted to the woman who stood before him.
When they were past the peninsula that insulated the boathouse, Carter cut the engine as the sail grabbed a gust of wind and the boat took off. Targeting the best trajectory for the wind’s direction, she set them on an aggressive course that maximized their speed. The gurgling noise of their wake swelled, and Nick adjusted himself higher on the gunnels to compensate for the boat’s lean into the water. She was in total control at the helm as she angled them farther into the gusts, ensuring that every square inch of the sail was filled with wind. The boat was tilted at a steep pitch, the keel almost out of the water, and still she pushed them harder.
Nick didn’t look where they were going because he couldn’t take his eyes off Carter. Her hair was billowing around in the wind, the dark strands whipping across her face in a lively dance. Her eyes sparkled as much as the sunlight on the water. Her joy was palpable.
“You’re a terrific sailor,” he said over the din. He was surprised as a shadow crossed her face.
“I spent a lot of time sailing as a child.”
“Where?”
When she remained silent, he wondered if she’d heard him.
Finally she answered, “The Aegean Sea, Bahamas, off the coast of Brittany. On Lake Michigan here in the States.” She hesitated. “My father taught me.”
Nick’s interest was piqued by the grudging admission, and he changed his position so that he was closer to her. “He taught you well. You see him much?”
Carter’s head wrenched around and she immediately got defensive. “Why do you ask?”
“Pretty common question about someone’s father, isn’t it?”
There was a long pause as she seemed to struggle with anger and mistrust. “No. I don’t see him.”
“Ever?”
She shook her head.
“Mind if I ask why?”
He watched as her hands tightened on the wheel.
“I don’t want to ruin the day with a conversation like that.”
“You two don’t get along?”
“No one can get along with a sociopath,” she snapped.
“Sociopath? He’s got a reputation for being fairly ethical.”
Her eyes were wide, almost panicked, as they flashed to his. “How well do you know him?”
“I’ve met him a number of times.” Nick made sure his words were gently spoken. “But that can’t be a shock. He’s a venture capitalist, too.”
“I should have known,” she muttered. “Two sharks swimming in the same water.”
“Two men in the same line of business.”
They were silent for a long time.
Nick’s eyes never left her. He needed to know what had happened to make her hate William Wessex so much.
“Why are you staring at me?” she demanded impatiently, tightening her grip on the wheel.
“Why don’t you want to talk about your father?”
“Oh, for Chrissakes.” She shifted angry eyes to him. “Can’t you just leave it alone?”
“Just tell me why.”
“Because it’s guaranteed to put me in a bad mood, as you can see. I didn’t know you were so interested in family dynamics.”
“I’m interested in you.”
She stiffened. “Be interested in me in other ways.”
“I am.”
“Then be satisfied with what I’m willing to give you.”
“I want
more.”
“Tough.” Her voice was hostile.
“I want all of you.”
Her blue eyes flashed to his. He saw alarm in them. And heat.
Nick was shocked by his admission, too. It had leapt out of him with such honesty he couldn’t have held it back if he’d wanted to.
“You can’t blame my curiosity,” he said, changing the subject. “One mention of your father and you’re gripping that wheel like it’s your last hold on sanity.”
He watched as she forced her hands to relax.
“Did you ever get along with him?”
Carter stayed silent for a long time, and all that traveled between them was the sound of the water and the rush of the wind.
Then she said, slowly, “My father and I…When I was growing up, I worshiped him. He wasn’t around a lot, but when he was my life got more stable and I was happy. Although that was all before I really knew the man. I miss the illusion of him.”
“And your mother?”
“Dead. But then, you must know that, right?”
“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose parents. Were you close to her?”
Carter shrugged and focused on the horizon, though he doubted she was actually seeing what was ahead of them. “Mummy was beautiful. Far too young for Father. In the beginning, he cherished her like a doll and, because she craved attention, they got along rather well, or so I’ve heard. She had me when she was twenty-two, one year and two months after they married. Things began to unravel after that. She was far better equipped to be a child than to raise one. I grew up. I don’t think she ever did.”
Carter was talking to herself, he realized, and he didn’t prompt her when she paused, for fear she would stop speaking altogether.
“They weren’t a good match. My father was always gone and she didn’t handle being alone well. Of course, she’d have handled it better if he’d been faithful while he was away.” She stopped abruptly. “Isn’t it time we come about?”
“A little bit farther,” he said, holding off the flurry of activity that would come with changing the sailboat’s direction. He knew the conversation would be lost. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“At her funeral,” she said brusquely. “I think we should come about.”