by Ginna Gray
Rebecca almost wished that her husband had found someone else. Except... she couldn't, in good conscience, wish that fate on another woman.
"How did your father take it when he found out?"
A sad smile tugged at Rebecca's mouth. "You mean how did he feel about losing Evan Hall as a son-in-law? I wouldn't know. I haven't talked to him since I left. Actually, I'm not sure he even knows about it yet. He's sailing the Mediterranean on a friend's yacht."
"You said you divorced Evan two months ago. You mean, in all that time, you haven't called or written your father?"
The shock in Travis's voice was unmistakable. Everyone in Crockett and most people in their Dallas circle knew the store Richard Quinn set in her marriage. Rebecca looked down at her coffee cup and fingered the handle.
"No."
Travis gave a long, low whistle. "Man, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when he finds out."
Rebecca answered with a wan smile and felt sick to her stomach. She didn't want to be in her shoes either, but there was no help for it. Sooner or later she was going to have to face the music.
"How about Evan?" Travis probed relentlessly. "What was his reaction when you asked for a divorce?"
She stood up abruptly. "Travis, I really don't want to talk about this anymore." Her voice broke at the end, and she began to stack the dishes with stiff, jerky movements. Keeping her gaze fixed on the task, she avoided Travis's eyes, but she felt them following her every move.
He didn't utter a word or move until the table was cleared. Then he joined her at the sink, picked up a dish towel and began drying the dishes. The air in the cabin vibrated with tension.
The boat rocked and creaked in the wind. Rain lashed the sides and the decks, and streamed down the high narrow windows on either side of the cabin. The only other sounds were the swish of the dishwater and the clink of china.
"I'm sorry, Rebecca," Travis said, breaking the silence. "I didn't realize that you were so torn up about the divorce."
She swallowed and kept her eyes on the mounds of soapsuds in the sink. "I'm not torn up. Not the way you mean, anyway."
"But the end of a marriage, no matter how bad, is hard to take. Right? That's the reason you came to Rincon, isn't it? To give yourself time to get over it."
The breakup of her marriage was not the source of her pain. Far from it. To admit that to Travis, however, would invite more questions. "You could say that, I guess," she hedged, swallowing her guilt at the half-truth.
The silence stretched out again. Rebecca held her breath and braced for more questions, but when Travis finally spoke, his voice held a teasing note.
"In that case, it's a good thing I was here."
She slanted him a cautious look out of the corner of her eye. "Oh? Why is that?"
"Because I'm great at cheering up despondent women. Especially beautiful ones." He wriggled his eyebrows at her, Groucho Marx style, and Rebecca couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, you are, are you?" she said trying to enter the spirit of the game. Rebecca was not accustomed to taking part in lighthearted banter. She felt awkward and self-conscious about it. Still, the harmless teasing was by far preferable to fending off his endless questions about her marriage.
"You bet. You might even say I'm an expert."
"Mmm. And what exactly is it that you do for these women?"
"I'm charming and witty. I keep them company, entertain them, provide stimulating conversation." He leaned his elbow on the counter until his eyes were level with hers and their faces were mere inches apart. "Most of all," he continued in a husky voice, "I give them lots of TLC."
"I see." She pulled the plug from the sink and pretended to consider the statement as she dried her hands on a towel. "The first part sounds good, but I'm not in the market for any TLC."
"Oh, I don't know about that," he drawled. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with his fingertips. The feather-light caress sent a shiver rippling through her. "You look to me exactly like a woman who could use some tender loving care," he murmured. "Lots of it."
Rebecca stared at him, her heart thumping. In a blink his demeanor had gone from teasing to seductive.
A smite still curved his beautiful mouth, but he regarded her with unblinking directness, his eyes glittering beneath half-closed lids, hot and intent. He was so close she could feel his breath tickling her cheek.
He was serious, she realized, and shock sent another shiver skittering along her spine.
Rebecca drew in an unsteady breath and licked her lips. His silvery gaze zeroed in on the action, and his pupils expanded. The shiver spread over her back and up her nape, making the hairs there stand at attention.
"Travis, please," she pleaded in a voice just above a whisper.' 'You don't have to do this. Really."
"Do what?" His forefinger touched a soft curl at her hairline, the calloused tip grazing the fragile skin behind her ear. The touch left a trail of fire in its wake.
"Flirt with me."
"Is that what I'm doing?"
Instantly, doubt and acute embarrassment riddled Rebecca. Oh, Lord, had she read something into his actions that wasn't there? She risked another look at him, and uncertainty fled as fast as it had come. No, she hadn't been wrong. His slumberous gaze fairly sizzled.
"Aren't you?"
He appeared to give the question serious thought, then lifted one shoulder. "Yeah. I guess maybe I am.''
The admission made her pulse leap, much to her disgust. For heaven's sake, will you get a hold of yourself. You're not a silly teenager anymore, she silently berated.
Gathering her composure, she slanted him what she hoped was a look of amused tolerance. "Look, Travis, I know that flirting is automatic with you, but in this case, don't you think it's...well...a bit ridiculous, given who we are?"
"At one time it would've been, but I've changed my mind about you."
"Oh. Well... that's good to hear, of course. I'm glad we're not enemies anymore. But that doesn't mean that we should be. ..uh..."
"Lovers?" he supplied for her.
"Yes." She struggled to ignore the hot tide of color that flooded her neck and face, and Travis's unholy grin. "It isn't an either/or situation, you know. There is a middle ground. Under the circumstances, that would be more appropriate."
His hand stilled on her neck. He studied her earnest expression, and after a while dropped his hand to his side. Straightening, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back and braced his hips against the counter. One side of his mouth kicked up in a wry, half smile. "Yeah, maybe you're right."
She smiled back, feeling both relieved and curiously disappointed.
Rebecca turned to hang the towel on the rack beside the sink. At the same moment, the boat went into a pitching roll and sent her stumbling right into the solid wall of Travis's chest.
Off balance, she clung to him as his arms closed around her and he settled her snugly between his thighs. Gasping, she looked up and encountered his amused, blatantly sensual gaze.
"But then again, maybe not," he drawled,.and lowered his mouth to hers.
Rebecca clutched his shoulders, her fingers digging deep into the tanned bare flesh. She moaned. Between the rocking boat and the drugging kiss her head was spinning.
The gentle, tentative kiss they had shared earlier had no resemblance to this bold assault on her senses. This was deep, devouring, avid and unabashedly passionate. Taking advantage of her open-mouthed shock, Travis slipped his tongue inside to engage hers in an erotic duel. His hands stroked over her with brazen self-assurance and a familiarity that stole her breath away, gliding over her back and shoulders, slipping between their bodies to seek out her breasts, her abdomen, returning to boldly cup her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, lifting her against his arousal.
She felt a burning deep inside her femininity and moaned. Travis made a sound low in his throat—a purely masculine sound of triumph, of pleasure, of scorching desire.
Rebecca felt as if she were drow
ning in sensations—the incredible heat and hardness of his body, the manly smell that invaded her being with each shallow breath, the taste of him on her tongue, the raspy sound of his breathing, its warm moistness eddying against her cheek. The silky softness of his beard caressed the skin around her mouth with a feathery touch that made her shiver. Her heart was beating so hard and so fast it was almost suffocating her.
Pleasure swirled through her in waves, a sweet, honeyed pleasure that she hadn't known existed pounded, hot and thick, through her veins and seemed to settle in a throbbing ache at the apex of her thighs. Flattened against his chest, her breasts swelled, the nipples tightening into hard nubs, achingly tight and tender. Above the camisole top she felt the tickling brush of his chest hairs against her skin.
The oscillating motion of the boat rocked their bodies together with a shocking intimacy that pulled a long, throaty moan from Rebecca. Her knees had long since turned to putty, and all she could do was cling to Travis for support.
Eerie flashes illuminated the cabin as lightning arced and sizzled through the angry sky. Seconds later, thunder clapped and rolled and the wind howled. Neither of them noticed.
Travis broke off the kiss, and she gasped, but he immediately slanted his head at a different angle and reclaimed her mouth. With hot, open-mouthed kisses and the bold touch of his hands and body, he held her enthralled. For an endless time she half lay against him, while the boat rode the heaving swells and the heavens rumbled and the rain drummed overhead.
Sanity returned with a rude start when Rebecca's straw purse slid off the ledge where she'd stowed it and struck the backs of her legs. She yelped and jerked free of the kiss, but when she tried to step out of the embrace, Travis's arms tightened around her.
"Take it easy, sweetheart. It's okay," he soothed.
Dazed, Rebecca looked up into his smiling face, and her heart speeded up. Fear gripped her, warring with the excitement that pounded through her. Good, Lord. What was she doing? This was madness.
Trembling, she stood between Travis's legs within the circle of his arms, that part of her that ached and throbbed pressed tight against the unmistakable bulge at the juncture of his thighs. His crooked smile and sensual gaze reeked of predatory male. The sight sent an icy trickle down her spine.
His gaze dropped to her kiss-swollen mouth, and his head began a slow descent. With a quick catch of her breath, Rebecca pushed against his chest and leaned back, turning her head aside to evade his lips. "No, Travis. Don't. We must stop this."
He chuckled and settled for a nibble on her ear. "Now, why would we want to to that? We were starting to make sparks."
Hot breath dewed her skin, and Rebecca shuddered as he kissed and licked his way down the side of her neck. The reaction was due in part to excitement and in part to fright. She wasn't sure which was stronger.
"Oh, baby, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with passion. "You taste so good. So damned good."
Clenching her jaw against the delicious sensations spilling through her, and the debilitating terror that threatened to buckle her knees, she braced her forearms against his chest and pushed with all her strength. "No, Travis. Don't. I can't... I don't want this! Stop! Oh, please stop!"
The panicky note in her voice got through to him, and he stilled. He leaned back, keeping his arms around her, and studied her face. A slight frown formed between his eyebrows. "You're serious, aren't you?"
At her quick nod, his scowl deepened. "Why? The attraction between us is strong. And I know damned Well that it's mutual. I didn't imagine your response just now, Rebecca."
"I don't deny that," she managed shakily. "But it was a mistake. It should never have happened. A, uh... a romantic relationship between us would just complicate things, and my life is complicated enough as it is."
"Maybe a love affair is just what you need to take your mind off your problems."
"No, Travis."
"Then tell me why? After all, we're both consenting adults. We're both single. So whart's the problem? If you're worried about protection, I have it with me. And I've been tested—"
"It's not that." Blushing furiously, Rebecca searched for a way to explain without revealing too much. "Travis, I'm just not cut out for a casual affair. I've never had one. Evan....Evan is the only man I've ever been intimate with."
Travis's eyebrows shot skyward. Then his expression softened. "Rebecca, honey. I understand. Really, I do. A part of me is even glad that you're inexperienced. But don't you think it's time y—"
She stopped him by placing four fingers over his mouth. "No. Listen to me, Travis. I can't handle an intimate relationship right now, casual or otherwise. I...I don't want to get involved with you that way. It just wouldn't work."
He grinned and captured her hand. "Oh, I don't know about that. You told me yourself that you wanted me once. Judging by the way you kissed me back just now, I think I could make you want me again."
"Oh, Travis." The look she gave him was sad and mildly reproving. "I'll admit that you could probably stir the embers of that old crush back to life, if you tried. But if your feelings about me really have changed, as you say, you won't do that." Her eyes pleaded with him, and her voice came out quavery and earnest. "I don't need a lover, Travis. What I need at this point in my life is a friend."
Travis stared down into those soft blue eyes and felt a peculiar tightening in his chest. Misty and soulful, they silently implored. In the crystal depths he saw a naked, soul-deep sadness that tugged at his heart, but what bothered him most was the fear that she could not hide.
What had put it there? Good Lord, was she afraid of him? Had years of being subjected to his antagonism done that? The appalling thought tightened his chest even more, to the point of pain.
He knew a sudden urge to erase that look, to see her smile at him freely, happily, with no haunting shadows and no holding back, no nervous skittering away.
Still, his aroused body ached and demanded. He wanted her, dammit. He wanted to bury himself in her softness, wanted to feel her beneath him, going wild, that impassive expression banished, her face flushed and blurry with passion. For him.
For several seconds a battle waged inside Travis between raw desire and his more noble instincts. Finally he sighed, and his mouth twisted. "Friends, huh?"
Rebecca nodded. He let loose another long-suffering sigh and released her. Bracing the heels of his hands against the edge of the counter on either side of his hips, he watched her back away and had to consciously work at holding on to his amused expression.
"Aw, what the heck. Friends it is."
"Are you sure? I mean, I know that this is a big change for you. If you'd rather not be friends, I'll underst—"
"Hey, no problem. I'm fine with this. Actually.. .it ought to be interesting." His mouth widened in a slow, wicked grin, and he winked. "This'll be a first for me. I've never been just friends with a woman before. At least, not with one who turns me on."
She looked stunned, as though she didn't quite know how to take that, but after a quick search of his face, she relaxed and her mouth began to twitch. "I'll bet," she returned, somewhere between cheeky and embarrassed.
"Hey, I'm serious. I don't think you realize what a sacrifice I'm making for you. If this ever gets out, my reputation will be shot to hell and gone."
As he had hoped it would, his foolishness loosened her up even more. He watched the tension gradually drain from her and a hesitant light of mischief enter her eyes.
"Poor baby. If it will help, why don't you look at this as a character-developing exercise?"
"Yeah. Right." He assumed a pained expression, and a giggle broke from Rebecca.
With exaggerated martyrdom, Travis rolled his eyes and made a face. "Aw, what the hell. Since I'm being so noble and self-sacrificing, I'll even give you first dibs on the bathroom. If you want, you can borrow one of Abigail's nightgowns. I'm sure she won't mind."
While Rebecca disappeared into the forward cabin in search of sleepwear,
Travis took a beer from the refrigerator and made himself comfortable at the table, sitting sideways on the bench seat with his back against the bulkhead. He'd no sooner settled back than Rebecca returned with a minuscule swath of pink cotton draped over one arm. Taking a long pull of beer, he watched her dig through her purse and take out a small plastic cylinder.
"What's that?"
"A toothbrush. I always carry a spare. You never know when you'll need to brush your teeth."
"You women and your purses. It's amazing what you lug around with you in those things." He shook his head, the picture of a bewildered male. Recalling the monstrous canvas tote that David's bride, Abigail, carried and the astounding assortment of stuff it contained, he chuckled.
"Laugh if you want," Rebecca returned with mock hauteur. "But you're the one who'll have to make do with a dab of toothpaste on a washcloth."
Acknowledging the sally, Travis grinned and lifted the beer can in a silent salute. His amused expression gave way to somber thoughtfulness the minute Rebecca stepped into the head.
He stared at the closed door, aware of the strange tightness in his chest. Why the hell did he feel so disappointed?
She was probably right. A romance between them would never work. There were too many things against it. For one, their lives were just too closely intertwined. With Rebecca being Erin and Elise's best friend, it would be awkward when their affair ended, no matter how amiably they parted. They were bound to run into each other now and then at his cousins' homes, or maybe even in Crockett, if she returned there to live.
Then there was the matter of Rebecca's inexperience. That, coupled with her background, was enough to tell him that she wasn't equipped to handle an affair. She was an emotionally fragile woman, and as strange as it seemed, given their history, the last thing he wanted was to hurt her.