Eric got up more slowly than she had, testing his stiff legs before standing on them. "I take it this enthusiasm to accompany me means you've agreed to my terms?"
She hesitated before answering, an impish twinkle in her eyes. "What are my options?"
"You don't have any."
"Then I agree."
"A most wise decision on your part," he said with a sinister quality in his tone. "Had you not agreed, I was prepared to kidnap you and, if necessary, carry you off in the classic Rhett Butler manner. And the way my legs feel right now, I'm not sure we would have made it very far."
"You mean you would have taken me against my will?" She tried to sound aghast.
He took her into his arms and gave her a kiss filled with exquisite promise. She responded like a banked fire to dry kindling. "Would it have been against your will?" he breathed, as shaken by the electricity that passed between them as she was.
"No," she admitted, leaning into him, fervently wishing they were somewhere private so they could pursue what they had so unthinkingly started in the middle of a freezing staircase. Suddenly the electricity came back on, bathing them in blinding light.
"It's time for us to get out of here," he said, taking her hand and heading out to the car.
Although it was against company policy, Janet asked Eric to drive. She didn't want to think or concentrate on anything but him. She snuggled into his side. A wondrous sense of contentment made the fog-shrouded world they passed through appear more beautiful than ever before.
In what seemed only a short time, they were entering the municipal parking lot along the front of the pier in Sausalito. Janet had brought countless customers to this artist's colony, but she had never come back on her own to explore the quaint, expensive shops or to eat in any of the restaurants that afforded a spectacular view of San Francisco across the bay.
It was well-known that to live and play in Sausalito required money—lots of it. The yachts she could see from the parking area were easily in the million-dollar range. Even before she had got out of the car, she was feeling intimidated by the flagrant wealth that surrounded them. She chided herself for the feeling, but it refused to go away. She fought to catch her breath past the heaviness in her chest and forced a smile when Eric came around to take her hand and lead her onto the pier.
Because she had worked several yacht shows for the Anything Goes Agency, she was aware of the staggering cost of even the small ships they passed. Many of the larger ones were bigger than her parent's home in Portland. And it wasn't only the purchase price of the yachts that impressed her; it was the ongoing cost of the large crews required to run them and the people needed to keep them clean—not to mention that it would probably take a large chunk of her annual salary just to tie up a boat at this pier. She couldn't shake the insidious feeling that she didn't belong in a place like this and would never be able to fit in with people who lived this kind of life. She had nothing in common with them.
As they neared the end of the pier, her gaze swept past all the opulence and focused on a decrepit-looking sailboat that looked as if it had spent the majority of its life beneath the sea rather than on top of it. She couldn't imagine what that poor relation was doing hobnobbing with all its rich cousins, but she liked its plucky attitude.
Eric opened a waist-high gate leading to the stairs that would take them to the lower level where the boats were actually secured. They continued to walk until there was only one vessel—a sleek ninety-six-foot Broward Motor Yacht—between them and the sailboat. Without thinking, Janet headed in the direction of the Broward.
"Where are you going?" Eric asked, grabbing her arm.
She searched his face. "This isn't your boat?" she said, pointing to the Broward.
"A motorboat?" He spit the word out as if it had put a bad taste in his mouth.
"You mean…" she gasped, her gaze flying to the sailboat, "that's yours?" It looked even worse close up.
Eric looked at The Promise and tried to see it through her eyes. He guessed it might look pretty bad to anyone who knew nothing about quality sailing vessels, especially when compared to its pristine fiberglass neighbors. Still, her undisguised shock rankled. "Are you disappointed?" he asked, trying to hide his own sense of letdown.
She glanced at the boat, then back at him. "Are you kidding?" she squealed, throwing her arms around him. "I'm ecstatic. Any man who would spend his time restoring a boat like this could never throw something away just because it had been around awhile."
He didn't understand, but he didn't care. It felt too good to hear the happiness in her voice. "I imagine someday you're going to explain what you mean by that."
"It isn't important." She stood on her toes and gave him a kiss. "Oh, Eric, why didn't you bring me here a long time ago?"
"If you recall, there was a small problem about finding the time to take you anywhere." He didn't need to know what had caused the transformation in her. All that mattered was that she seemed to have finally accepted who and what he was. He bent and picked her up in his arms. Slowly he turned in a circle, returning the kiss she gave him, feeling a liquid fire race through his veins. If happiness could be bottled and saved for future hard times, he was convinced this moment would provide a life's supply.
He carried her on board The Promise and didn't put her down until they had reached the stairs to go below. He asked her to wait while he went ahead to turn on the lights. He felt anxious to see her expression when she saw what he hoped would someday be her home.
As soon as Janet saw the lights go on, she followed him below. But she stopped before reaching the last step, overwhelmed by the warmth and beauty of the room she saw—in such stunning contrast to the outside of the ship. Everywhere there was the glow of natural wood, lovingly and painstakingly restored. The furniture had been carefully selected to give a feeling of welcome and was covered in muted earth tones. Touches of yellows and rusts added color, and vibrant green plants growing in the corners and on tables added warmth. On the far wall was a fireplace with a marble mantle.
"It's beautiful, Eric," she said simply, at a loss for words to express her complex feelings. She went over to stand beside him, putting her arm around his waist and leaning her cheek against his chest. "I've been so unfair to you. Instead of seeing you as you really are, I let my prejudices against rich people get in the way. I misjudged you entirely."
"Does this mean you've decided to let me help you with school?" He knew the timing wasn't the best, but he so desperately wanted things settled between them that he took a chance.
She stiffened. It would be hard to let go of the complete control she had gained over her own life. "As long as we both know it's only a loan."
"One that will be canceled the day we get married."
She tilted her head back to look at him. "How would you know I wasn't marrying you just to pay off a debt?"
Her screwy logic made him smile. "Janet, if I have to fight this hard to get you to take money from me in the first place, how could I ever think you'd marry me to get out of paying it back?" He bent to kiss her upturned mouth. "But if feeling indebted to me would get you to the altar any faster, I'd gladly turn all my assets over to you first thing in the morning."
She returned his kiss, parting her lips in an open invitation for him to deepen what he had started. "Oh, Eric…" she sighed, leaning against him, her legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "There isn't an ounce of fight left in me—every corner's filled with loving you."
How many men who dared to dream such uncompromising dreams had seen them come true? He had waited for a woman like Janet far longer than what had seemed a reasonable time, yet he had never given up hope that he would find her. And she was every—no, she was more—than he had dreamed she would be. He lowered his mouth to hers. "Tell me again."
She would tell him. Tomorrow and the next day and all the days in all the years they would have together. But right now it was time to show him. She put her arms around his neck and brought him to her,
giving him a kiss that left no doubt about her intentions.
"I like your style, lady," he murmured, sweeping her into his arms. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom in the best Rhett Butler tradition. Only, unlike Scarlet, Janet never thought to protest.
A Week from Friday Page 18