He wouldn’t be taking it anywhere, but it was baffling the way she made him feel. Beth Cox was too young for him, too innocent and too damned much trouble.
So why did he have this urge to spend the next seventy-plus miles kissing her senseless?
Chapter Three
“I can’t believe we’re actually taking a limousine to Victoria,” Beth said as they climbed to the passenger deck of the ferry. “Talk about conspicuous consumption.”
Kale shrugged. “It’s easier to have someone drive us around the city. But if you want, we can walk off with the foot passengers, rather than ride the limo.”
“You mean, in company with our chaperons?” She cast a significant glance at the camera crew toting equipment along behind them. They were lagging behind, struggling with their load on the steep and rather narrow stairway.
“Hey, I warned you there’d be photographers.”
“As if I had any choice in the matter.”
He chuckled, knowing there was a shred of truth in what Beth had said. She could have turned down the money for her charity, but he wouldn’t have stopped until he’d found a way to change her mind. It was one thing for him to be embarrassed by a newspaper article, another for his brother’s business—and pride—to be hurt, however innocently it might have happened.
They walked to the bow of the ferry and stood with excited passengers as the ferry chugged away from the pier. Seagulls screamed and dove above them with impertinent challenges, and as the boat made its way around the breakwater, the breeze picked up and the sea became choppier.
Beth leaned on the rail and gazed into the horizon, a far-off expression on her face. Gradually the cold early-morning wind off the Strait of Juan de Fuca drove their fellow passengers inside, leaving them alone on the deck—alone except for the stubborn camera crew, who had set up a discreet twenty feet away. At least they didn’t have to worry about every word they said being recorded.
“Aren’t you freezing?” he asked finally.
“No, but you don’t have to stay outside because of me,” she murmured.
Kane rested his elbows on the rail next to her. “I’m fine, but I’m wearing more clothes than you are.”
“Is there something wrong with my clothing?” Beth asked, her head tilted in challenge.
“Nope. You look terrific.” His tone grew a little husky and he hoped she’d put it down to chilly wind and noise from the ferry engines. The cold air was doing what a lover’s hands would accomplish, puckering her nipples beneath a thin green T-shirt. White shorts cupped her trim bottom, the cuffs a respectable three inches above her knees, and a pair of sandals emphasized the slender length of her legs.
There was nothing obvious or overblown about Beth, just an understated elegance he’d never fully appreciated before in a woman.
“So tell me,” he said, forcing his gaze out to the blue-green water of the Strait and away from temptation. “You never explained what was so terrible about us going on a date together.”
“I told you, this isn’t—”
“A date,” Kane finished for her. “I know. But it doesn’t matter what you call it, you still said ‘no.”’
Beth rubbed the back of her neck and then her arms, as if she’d suddenly become aware of the bite in the air. “My life is settled, I don’t need contests and fantasy dates to make me happy.”
Interesting. Kane suspected she wasn’t being entirely honest with herself, or with him. Most people wanted something, even if they didn’t know what that “something” might be.
“Are you happy?”
She flashed him an angry look and planted her hands on her hips. “That’s none of your business.”
“Shhh.” He put a finger over her lips and motioned to the camera crew. “Some of those folks are from a local television station. It isn’t good press for them to see us fight—at least it wouldn’t make the kind of press my brother needs.”
“Mmm.” She angled her head backward and gave him a sweetly false smile. “Would it make good press if I bite your finger?”
Kane laughed. Beth was bright and sassy like one of his sisters; he only wished he could think of her that way. Like a kid sister. Nothing sexual or uncomfortable, just a nice woman who didn’t confuse his body.
Hell, it was his own fault. He’d been celibate too long, buried in his work and bored with the whole social scene. A man got to a certain age and he didn’t feel like playing games with women, watching them dance around, hopeful he’d decide they were the perfect billionaire’s wife. They didn’t realize the money wasn’t important, it was only a means to an end.
With money you could take care of your family and protect them. Without it you were helpless.
He still remembered what it felt like to be nineteen, one minute on top of the world, the next minute seeing it fall apart. Remembered the crushing pain of suddenly losing his father, of looking at his mother and brothers and sisters, fearing he wouldn’t be able to hold everything together.
A seagull swooped low and hovered for an instant, catching their attention before it swooped away again with a shrill cry.
“He’s saying we’re crazy,” Kane murmured.
“For going to Victoria, or for going together?” Beth asked pertly.
“You don’t give up, do you?” he asked, more curious than annoyed. “You didn’t want to do this, and you aren’t going to give it a chance. At the very least we could pretend we’re friendly. That isn’t much to ask, is it?”
She sighed and gathered her windswept hair away from her face. “I’m just uncomfortable. I was never very good at dating or anything, and since Curt’s accident…” Her shoulders lifted and dropped. “There doesn’t seem to be much point.”
Curt.
The fiancé who died in a mountain-climbing accident—or to be more precise, the fiancé who was killed while trying to rescue someone. It was strangely daunting to wonder about the contrast between himself and this other man. There weren’t many heroes in the world, yet Beth had been engaged to one.
Kane searched her face, trying to tell how much pain the memory brought. “How long ago did it happen?”
“Almost five years.” The distant look filled her eyes again. “It’s not like my life hasn’t gone on. I miss him, but he loved me and wouldn’t want me to stop living because he isn’t here.”
“But you don’t think you can fall in love again…or that you’ll ever get married?” Kane frowned. “That isn’t right.”
Abruptly she turned back to the water, so all he could see was her profile. “And that’s an interesting observation from a man who openly tells the press he’s not planning to get married,” she drawled.
A low chuckle surprised Beth and she glanced at Kane.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just the thought of two determined singles being pushed together like this. Don’t you see? It makes things perfect. We can do some sight-seeing, have a nice dinner and enjoy ourselves without worrying about any wayward expectations. With that in mind, you’ll be happy to know I changed our reservations from the ‘romantic attic suites’ at the Empress Hotel, to regular suites.”
Romantic attic suites?
“That’s a relief,” she said, without being entirely sincere.
Emily had told her about the Empress Hotel after staying there with her husband, and deep down Beth felt a pang at missing the “special attic rooms.” According to Emily, romantic was an understatement. They were beautiful and private, decorated with the Empress’s original antique furniture, including some four-poster and canopy beds. Beth had never slept in a genuine four-poster bed, but she thought it would be fun.
More fun for a honeymoon or wedding anniversary, but she wasn’t likely to have one of those.
“So, are we okay?” Kane asked.
Beth shook herself. He was worried about the publicity angle of their “date,” and she was still worried about him thinking she had silly expectations.
“Sure,” she said
. “I’m sorry about being so sensitive. It’s just everyone has been speculating about this romantic date with you, when all along I know it isn’t the least bit romantic. I mean, if you really think about it—what’s romantic about going out with a perfect stranger?”
Kale threw back his head and laughed. “You really are innocent, aren’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Most people are strangers until they get to know each other…which is usually through dating.”
An embarrassed warmth crept up Beth’s neck and she wrinkled her nose. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
He was being difficult, which should have annoyed her. Unfortunately she was too aware of Kane at the moment to be annoyed, at least for something so minor.
“I mean a date between two people who have never met and have no basis for attraction,” she said as severely as possible.
“Ah.” Kane leaned closer until his arm touched hers, a startling warmth in contrast to the brisk wind off the water. “There’s no basis for attraction, then. Between us?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m a man, you’re a woman. That seems pretty basic.”
“I said basis,” Beth hissed, a fraction of an instant before she saw the teasing light in his blue eyes.
Jeez.
“Shannon was right,” she said. “You’re a pill.”
“That’s just the little sister talking. You know how families are.”
“Not especially. I was raised in foster homes—no relatives at all, as far as I know.”
From the defiant tilt to Beth’s chin, Kane guessed the reaction to her childhood hadn’t always been good. It was hard to imagine having no one at all. Bad as it was when his father died, he’d still had the rest of the family.
“Is that why the crisis center is so important to you?” he asked softly. “Sometimes I think people who don’t have families appreciate them more than those who do.”
Beth twisted a strand of hair around her finger and shrugged. “I love being involved, but I’m not a crusader or anything. There’s nothing dysfunctional about wanting to help.”
“I know.” Kane let out a breath. They’d gotten into much more personal territory than he’d ever intended, it wasn’t any wonder she was defensive. “Speaking of help, what do you say to a hot cup of coffee? I’m sure I could persuade one of our camera-toting chaperons to get some for us.”
“I’m sure you could,” Beth said in a dry tone. “But let’s get it ourselves and save them the trouble.”
Sunlight poured through the windows of the ferry, so there was enough light for Kane to wear his sunglasses in the building. If they weren’t recognized it would be easier.
It was warm inside, with children laughing and running and a babble of conversation rising above the steady throb of the ferry’s engines. The line at the snack bar had thinned, and they selected coffee, along with muffins, then found an empty table.
The coffee was terrible, but it was hard to mind when Beth gave him a sleepy smile and rested her chin on her hand.
“I’m sorry for being touchy,” she said. “I’m not a morning person.”
“I kind of figured that.”
“Do you always get up early?”
“Mmm.” Kane pushed his cup to one side. “Usually no later than five. I work out and get to the office around seven.”
Beth shuddered. “Five a.m.?” She made it sound like the middle of the night. “I love to sleep late. That’s real luxury, you know, staying curled up in bed until late in the morning. Especially on a winter day, when it’s cold and stormy outside.”
The small amount of caffeine he’d consumed hit Kane’s system on overdrive. He knew she wasn’t trying to be suggestive. As far as Beth was concerned she’d dispatched the question of them being compatible in any way. She was just talking, completely comfortable with their status as disinterested strangers. Unfortunately he wasn’t as disinterested as she thought.
And he suspected her own feelings weren’t entirely neutral, though she’d given him little enough evidence.
If only she wasn’t so much younger and so obviously inexperienced—the two were an impossible combination for the sort of sophisticated affair he’d enjoyed in the past.
He cleared his throat. “You like stormy days, huh?”
“I like listening to the rain.” Beth let out a self-conscious laugh. “The truth is, I’m not a very complicated person. I enjoy simple things the best, like reading or hiking in the mountains, or working in my garden.”
It had been a long time since Kane had done anything simple, but it suddenly sounded very appealing. He didn’t have time for hiking or gardening, and his reading was consumed by analyses and reports and dozens of memos, yet Beth’s words conjured an irresistible image of peaceful mornings in bed, leisurely loving, and time to think.
Dangerous thoughts for a man who worked fourteen hours a day, and even more dangerous to consider whose face had popped into his head as a bed partner.
“Don’t you ever sleep in?” Beth asked.
Kane could tell she wanted to say something more, maybe even suggesting he slow down a little. “Never,” he said quickly. “I guess I’m too compulsive.”
“That’s too bad.” She popped a piece of muffin into her mouth and sipped her coffee, then looked at him suspiciously. “We don’t have to get up early tomorrow, do we?”
“Nope, you can sleep as late as you want.”
She let out an obvious sigh of relief. “That’s good. I’m not sure I could do 5:00 a.m. twice in a row.”
“I think you could do anything you put your mind to,” Kane said sincerely. “As my mother puts it, ‘ye’ve got steel in your backbone—but don’t forget to bend every now and then.”’
“She sounds nice…and very Irish.”
“That she is,” he agreed, his own accent becoming more pronounced. His mother had survived more than any woman ought to go through, yet she remained a faithful member of her church, a devoted parent—and tireless nagger about him slowing down. She deserved a comfortable life, though she wouldn’t accept a fraction of what he wanted to give her.
“Have you ever been to Ireland?”
He shook his head. “Shannon goes with mother every year, but I haven’t had time. Someday, maybe.”
A thoughtful frown creased Beth’s forehead as she ate the last of her muffin. She neatly folded the cupcake paper holder inside a napkin and wiped a small drop of spilled coffee from the table. The gesture suited her, and Kane recalled the simple, tidy decor of her house.
“I don’t understand,” she said finally. “You have all this money, and hundreds of employees to take care of things. How could you not have time to travel?”
“I’ve been busy making the money.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Okay. When will you have enough?”
The genuine puzzlement in Beth’s face made Kane pause, and he sensed a void opening in front of him. He had more money than he could ever spend, yet he’d never once considered slowing down. No matter how much his mother nagged, or his brothers and sisters teased, he just kept pushing.
Why?
How much money was enough to make him feel the family was safe? And why, of all the people who had asked how much money was enough, should it be Beth who made him feel as if he’d been struck in the face with the truth?
No.
He was overreacting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something frivolous like spend a weekend sightseeing. It wasn’t Beth, it was the circumstances. Anyway, she couldn’t understand. Her fiancé was gone and she didn’t have any family, so her priorities were different.
“I…it isn’t just the money,” Kane said. “I built the business, I’m not going to abandon it just to enjoy myself. A lot of people depend on me for jobs.” The excuse sounded lame, even to him, but it was the best he could do.
“Is that what taking a vacation means to you? Abandoning your
business?”
“I’ll go someday,” he said in a tone that meant the subject was closed. His employees understood that tone perfectly, and made themselves scarce on the rare occasions they heard it.
“Not if you drop dead of hypertension or a heart attack first,” she murmured. “What good is a gazillion dollars if you’re six feet under?”
Obviously Beth wasn’t one of his employees.
An announcement came over the loudspeakers, telling car passengers to return to their vehicles since the ferry was coming into dock.
“Mr. O’Rourke?” said one of the camera and video crew. They’d been sitting on the other side of the ferry, having been asked to clear the aisle by one of the ship’s officers. “It’s time for you to go below.”
“Go ahead. We’ll be down in a few minutes. Or we may decide to walk off, rather than take the limo.”
“But Mr. O’Rourke, we’re supposed to cover the entire date,” the man protested.
Kane was already tired of having a media chaperon, and knew Beth couldn’t be enjoying it, either. “I told you to go ahead,” he snapped. “You don’t have to take pictures of us walking down a flight of stairs or going through customs.” The one good thing the news crew had done was stay far enough away for Beth and him to talk privately.
“Oh, my God,” a woman shrieked all at once. “I knew I recognized them. They’re that couple—the billionaire and his date. She said no and he charmed her into it.”
Damn.
The next thing Kane knew cameras were flashing, and pens were being thrust in their faces for autographs, no one was paying attention to the loudspeaker and the second reminder to go below to the car deck. The only blessing was seeing the news crew jostled into the background by eager tourists.
Beth had a frozen smile on her face as she signed her name on a dozen different scraps of paper.
Patrick had done a good job of advertising the weekend in Victoria; it seemed as if everyone had heard about it. And what fascinated them most was the idea of a woman turning down. The way things had turned out, Patrick had gotten a whole lot of free publicity because of Beth’s original decision not to accept her “prize.”
A Date With a Billionaire Page 4