by Ros Baxter
She had been avoiding him all morning—why was she seeking him out now?
He stood up, helping her down the last step with one hand, which she took automatically as the yacht rocked heavily. The sensation of her fingers sent a little electric shock through his body and he saw by the surprised look on her face that she had felt it too.
“We need to talk,” she said, releasing his hand quickly and moving over to the small table where he had been seated.
“Sure,” he said, gesturing to the bench seat. “Sit down.”
Just as she did, he caught the sound of his name from on deck. “Ridge? . . . Ridge?”
He swore under his breath and Donna raised an eyebrow. “I think your new girlfriend is looking for you.” She made to stand up. “Don’t worry, I can catch you later, I just—”
“No.” Ridge put a restraining arm on her shoulder as he stood to shut the little door to the galley stairs. “Stay. I can find her later.”
Through the closed door they heard Gigi’s voice raise in irritated persistence. “Ridge?”
“She sounds like she really needs you.” Donna frowned.
Ridge’s face was suddenly dark and intense. “She can wait,” he bit out, sitting back down. He turned to face her. She was watching him uncertainly, like she wasn’t sure if she could trust him in the confines of the small kitchen. He forced his face to stay calm and breathed deeply.
“So, Donna. You said you want to talk?”
*
Donna took a deep breath. “Where’s Eric?”
She hadn’t intended to sound so terse, but the combination of Eric’s whereabouts, the extraordinary physical impact of Ridge, and her irritation at Gigi’s sudden pursuit of him, all combined to fray her nerves to snapping point.
Donna was sure she saw Ridge’s mouth tighten at her question. “Not sure,” he countered brusquely. “I’m not his babysitter. I’m sure he had something he needed to do.”
“But he didn’t call.” It was unlike Eric, who was always so courteous and reliable. She wondered if they should start worrying. “I expected he would be here this morning, for the first day; he was so excited by the shoot.”
Ridge gave a wry smile. “I’m almost certain he knows you have it under control. He’s probably out enjoying the sights.”
Donna frowned. “Did he come back last night? Did you see him this morning?”
Ridge drew in his breath sharply, his face creased in irritation. “I didn’t check on him at bedtime,” he snapped. “I was kind of distracted.”
Donna blushed, thinking about that same distraction.
Ridge pressed on. “But I did see him this morning. He seemed fine.” He frowned, like he was remembering something. “A little preoccupied, but fine.”
“So you don’t think he . . .” Donna tried to think of the right way to ask Ridge whether Eric knew about what had happened last night. But she couldn’t put the words together under the force of his stare. And he wasn’t going to help a bit.
He raised a wry eyebrow at her. “Think he . . .?”
Donna sighed in exasperation. “Does he know? About last night?”
Ridge’s scowl deepened. “No idea,” he said. Then he shrugged. “He certainly didn’t seem worried about it if he did know.”
Donna stared at the floor, her stomach churning.
“I don’t think so,” he said, relenting. “I don’t know how he could have known anything.”
“Did he say anything about the shoot?” It was so strange, Eric being absent now that they were here, after he had been so keen on Donna coming along. She had assumed he would want to spend time with her.
Ridge tugged at his ear. “Mmm . . . no. But he did say he wanted to have dinner with us later tonight. You and I.” He nodded, as though he was pleased he had remembered that fact. “Yes, both of us, he specifically said.” He studied her carefully. “I got the sense there was some news he wanted to share. Anything I should know about?”
Donna considered this new information. She wondered what the news might be—something to do with business, or something else altogether?
“No,” she admitted finally.
Ridge sighed and turned to Donna in the low seat, his face still creased and hard to read. “Missing him?”
She should have been. She had been excited to spend time with Eric on the trip. She had planned her outfits and her actions carefully, including last night’s little disaster. She felt her face color as she thought back over how that had gone. Apart from the time she had enjoyed chatting to Eric on the plane, she had hardly seen him. So, yes, she should be disappointed; she should be missing him. But she’d be a liar if she said it was true. So she obfuscated.
“It just seems strange, that’s all.” She looked down at her hands.
But Ridge was not a man to miss a message, even one delivered by avoidance or omission. “You’re not missing him, are you?” he said, inching closer.
Oh no, this was not what Donna needed; she needed time and space away from Ridge to sort this whole mess out. Why had she lain there, and let him watch her last night? Why had she experienced such a strong reaction to Gigi’s shameless flirting and pursuit of him?
Yes, time and space, not Ridge sliding closer, filling up her senses with him. Not Ridge asking her questions she didn’t want to answer, when he was so close to her she could smell his skin and cologne and hear every intake of breath. So close she could feel the rhythm of that breath changing as he drew near.
He didn’t wait for an answer. He picked up her hands and held them in his. They were so warm and strong; she felt small and dainty around him.
“I know you aren’t missing him, Donna,” he said. “I knew it last night and I know it now.” He brought one of her hands to his face, to feel the scratch of his stubble and the warmth of his breath. “Sure, you’re asking about him. You feel like you should miss him. You feel like you should press ahead with whatever crazy plan you’ve hatched to get the two of you back together.” He sighed with what sounded like exasperation. “But you just don’t get it, do you? You’ve moved on. It’s not Eric your body is thinking about right now, is it?”
Oh, God, it was true. As Ridge sat beside her, lulling her with that deep voice, she wanted to wriggle closer to him and press herself into his side. She wanted to feel his arms wrapped around her. She wanted to allow herself to feel his touch and work out what was exploding between them. But Ridge had some nerve, asking her that, saying those things to her, when he was still hung up on his own heartache.
From her sister.
Fury and some other emotion she didn’t want to think about rose in her as the thought crystallized. It was the same emotion she had felt when she had seen the beautiful Gigi, naked and pouting in front of Ridge, when she had arrived on the boat this morning. She would not name the feeling, but it was there. Hot and slick and lethal in her gut. Just feeling it made her want to lash out at the source of the emotion.
“What about you, Ridge?” she said, deadly quiet and deliberate, dropping his hands and looking at him coldly. “Who are you thinking about? How well have you left the past behind?”
Ridge looked first confused then furious as realization settled on him. “Brooke, is that what you’re saying?”
Donna let a brittle laugh escape. “Please don’t look so surprised, Ridge,” she said, standing and moving over to the bench, trying desperately to put some distance between this man and her heart. “The whole world knows what Brooke—my sister Brooke—” she twisted the knife further, “—is to you. You’ve spent your life loving her. And now here you are, one more heartbreak in a long line of them, and you come over all Zen. All ‘Let it go, Donna.’” She put her hands on her hips and stared him down.
“Well, Ridge. Have you? Have you let it go? Let Brooke go? Let my sister go?” She approached him, feeling her anger and frustration mount with every step. “You’re so keen to be close to me. You want to look at me.” She stamped her foot. “Smell me.” She stampe
d it again; it felt good. “Touch me. So, tell me.” She pointed at him. “Have you let Brooke go?”
Ridge narrowed his eyes and stood up from the low seat as Donna finished her interrogation. He started decisively, like he had something clear and determined to say to her, but as he got closer, he stopped and ran his hands through his hair. Donna felt his uncertainty; it rose from him in great painful waves.
“Don’t answer that,” she said, closing her eyes and turning away from him to the exit and the stairs. “You don’t need to, I already have my answer.”
“No, Donna.” Ridge reached out for her hand as she started for the stairs. “Wait.”
She looked at him, waited for him to say she was wrong; that it really was all over with Brooke. But he didn’t. He just pulled her to him and crushed her against his chest. She could feel the erratic beating of his heart and smell the citrus on his skin. He reminded her of the sea—fresh and wild—and she thought how much this setting suited him. He was as impossible to pin down as ocean foam. He would never answer her question, just as he would never really forget Brooke.
But just for a moment, she stood there and let herself imagine that he could. She didn’t know when she had started wanting that. Perhaps some time after she had stepped on this boat this morning and felt the great tidal wave of jealousy roar awake inside her. Perhaps before that—Eric’s apartment last night? The plane? Earlier—perhaps the courthouse? Whatever. It didn’t matter. She was a fool; another foolish Logan sister caught in the Ridge Forrester spell. But for her, it was worse. Because Brooke owned Ridge, body and soul. And it didn’t matter if they were apart, or together, hurting each other, or loving each other; nothing could ever change that fact.
She wanted Ridge, but she could never have him. It was stupid and pointless to stand here, in the warm circle of his arms, imagining it would be different. He had answered her question—with his failure to answer.
“You demand answers from me,” he said, his breath ragged and his body tense, “but you have none for me. I’ve asked you how you feel about Eric, but you won’t tell me. Do you really love him, or just the idea of what he can offer you? The security? The comfort? The opportunity for a second chance, to fix all the things you did wrong in between?”
Donna lost her delicate grip on her temper. She tore herself from his embrace, but stayed standing very close, looking up at him. “How dare you even ask that, Ridge,” she spat. “You’re not free to ask it. You have no right to an answer. I don’t know exactly what you want from me, but I can have a damn good guess. A warm bed, some pleasant distraction. What you always want.” She smiled wryly. “And what you usually get.” She narrowed her eyes. “Well, guess what? You can’t have it.” As she said it, she knew it was true. She would not give in to him, to whatever this was between them, while he still harbored feelings for Brooke.
“I will not play second fiddle to my sister.” She felt waves of helplessness wash over her and replace the anger. “Maybe you’re right; maybe I have been foolish, thinking Eric and I could start over.” She poked him hard in the chest. “But that does not mean I’m ready to replace one folly for another. You need to stay away from me, Ridge. Right away from me. I know that will be hard today, on this boat. But after this . . .” She thought for a moment. “And dinner tonight with your father—after that, you need to leave me alone.”
She closed her eyes. She couldn’t have him. She wouldn’t torment herself by wishing for something that couldn’t be and would never work. Ridge was not safe for her. But . . .
She stepped closer again, pressing herself against him. She couldn’t have him, but she would take this one thing.
She tilted her face up to him, and he needed no other invitation. His head bent to take her mouth with his, kissing her hard as his hand snaked up to grasp her chin. It was a brutal kiss, insistent and searching. She clung to his shoulders and kissed him back with all she had. His tongue pushed inside her mouth and she had to hold him harder as her knees buckled under the sensual assault. It was a perfect kiss, sending her senses spinning out of control somewhere in the atmosphere. His hand worked its way into her hair, tipping her head back further and deepening the kiss.
Alarms started going off in her brain; telling her that if she didn’t break it off now, she would have more than she bargained for. A single kiss—a gift to herself of what she couldn’t have—would turn into something far more complicated.
She pulled away and ran for the door, thinking about the questions she had asked him. She had been very clear.
And his response had been very clear too.
The look on his face. And the silence.
Chapter Seven
Ridge stared out to sea. The shoot had been halted as the weather turned sour, but he couldn’t have cared less. For one, they’d managed to secure all the shots they needed. And two, the storm was perfect. It mirrored his foul mood as he reflected on his conversation with Donna.
Dear God, that woman was frustrating. She had this uncanny way of zeroing in on exactly the issues Ridge did not want to think about. Why could she not just go with the thing that was growing between them? Why did she demand answers that were so hard to explain? She wasn’t right, he knew that much for sure. It wasn’t that he and Brooke had unfinished business. They were over.
He frowned at the gathering storm, watching the swell grow and the sky turn green, and wondered if he had known that when he had said goodbye to Brooke, or whether it was a new realization. As he asked himself the question, the specter of Donna’s face again floated in his mind’s eye. And he knew the answer.
He had been reasonably sure that he and Brooke would never again twist each other in two. But in the last few weeks, spending time with Donna, he had realized it was more than a hunch. He could never have wanted Donna this way if Brooke had still been in his heart. But was he ready to tell her that?
When he had decided to return to Forrester Creations, he had sworn to focus only on work, and take his pleasures where he could get them. He was done with love; he would not let another woman get under his skin the way Brooke had.
And now, here he was, not only breaking his promise to himself to keep things light and easy, but breaking it with Brooke’s sister. But he could still stay in control, surely? He could explore things with Donna and still keep a check on how he felt.
The only problem was, she wouldn’t let him.
As the days had passed, he had been driven mad by the thought that Donna had feelings for his father. But he knew he had almost gotten to the truth in that galley. And now Donna wouldn’t speak to him; wanted him well away from her.
So why had she kissed him?
He rubbed his bottom lip, still feeling the press of her soft lips, and understanding dawned. It had been a goodbye kiss.
Donna was a determined woman—if there was anything Ridge knew about her from watching her over the years, it was that. If she had decided it was over, there would be little he could do to change her mind.
Except, perhaps, to stop pretending to both of them that this was just a simple seduction. He knew that was what he had been telling himself, and that was also the message he had been sending Donna. He wanted her; he desired her. And it was true. But was it all that was true?
His heart clenched at the thought of throwing caution to the wind and opening himself up for hurt once again.
He scowled at the gathering clouds again, realizing he would need to go and see the captain and see if there were any precautions they should be taking. The captain had turned back for port as soon as he had seen the changing weather and received the reports. As he made for the captain’s cabin, he ran into Gigi. She had changed from her last swimsuit into a marine-striped strapless dress, and she had a jaunty little sailor hat perched atop her lush black curls. Her lips were painted brilliant red, and her cheeks were pink from the assault of the gathering wind.
“You should get downstairs,” Ridge said to her, raising his voice to be heard.
&n
bsp; Gigi nodded, her eyes widening. “You think it’s bad?”
Ridge tried to smile reassuringly at her. It was hard, because he felt he’d used up his share of patience with her today. “I’m sure it’s fine,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “Eduardo is the best—I have no doubt he’ll get us back safely.”
As Ridge spoke, he caught sight of Donna up at the bow, clearing away after the shoot. He should really go and help her. He squeezed Gigi’s arm again, and watched as Donna lifted her head and gazed right at him. He dropped his hand quickly, not wanting to give Donna any suggestion he was interested in this flighty girl. But Donna had already turned away, and the set of her shoulders was so straight and tense, Ridge wondered if she would snap. He needed to go to her, help her, and make sure she was okay.
Gigi pouted fetchingly at him, and he was again amazed by her capacity to turn the charm on at will. She smiled. “Well, then, perhaps I’ll see you below? I might need a strong shoulder to lean on.” She shrugged. “If it gets too rough.”
“Mmm.” Ridge nodded at her while trying not to seem too dismissive. Once she had left, he started toward where Donna was cleaning up. Some fool had stacked two or three heavy timber crates on a landing above and to the left of her. They were sliding around as the yacht tipped and swayed, and Ridge’s stomach tightened as he saw how close they were to where Donna was standing. And how close she was to the boat’s edge. Donna was a careful and savvy woman; she would know to be careful in these conditions. Unless she was as preoccupied by their conversation as he was.
“Donna!” She couldn’t hear him in the whipping wind, so he hastened to her, his eyes fixed on the crates and willing her to turn and see them, or move away from where they looked likely to crash down on her at any moment.