by Linda Cajio
“I’ve got you,” she reminded him.
“Thrill of thrills, I’m sure. I meant a real man.”
She smothered a laugh. “Makes me wonder what you are, then.” Before he could respond, she shrugged and said, “I lived with a man for a while.”
It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. Prim and proper Hilary Rayburn had lived in sin? “What happened to him? Did he ‘do you wrong’?”
“No. I done him wrong.” She looked away.
Dev gaped. “You cheated on him?”
She turned back. “Of course not! Whatever gave you that ridiculous idea?”
One look at her honey-brown hair and the lush curves that made a man ache to touch her and Dev knew it wasn’t a ridiculous idea at all. “You said you done him wrong. Don’t you ever listen to Billie Holiday or Bessie Smith?”
“I’m more Harry Connick, Jr., and The Moody Blues.”
“Harry’s got potential, but The Moody Blues are the wrong kind. I’ll lend you some of my real blues albums. So, what did you do?”
“I …” She took a deep breath, and he nearly choked at the way her breasts pressed against the sheer fabric of her bodice. “I didn’t love him.”
Her words confirmed his first impressions of her: cold as ice and about as emotional as a robot. Somehow it pained him to realize it was true. At least she knew it about herself, he admitted.
“I was too young, really,” she went on, twirling the stem of her glass. “Sometimes we do things when we’re young on an impulse or because we think it’s a good idea, and then we realize afterward it’s not.”
Dev looked out over the green grass. “I know.”
“He deserved someone who did love him, wonderfully and with her whole heart. I wasn’t that person, so I told him he should go find her. It seemed only right.” A ripple chased down her body, as if she were shaking cobwebs out of an old blanket. Then she smiled. “Well, anyway, I still have you. Thrill of thrills.”
He grinned as she tossed his own words back at him. This day had started out as a torture, until this enlightening conversation. Just when he thought there were no surprises left, she surprised him. There was a lot of Hilary under the social mask she always had on. How could she be this warm and teasing and yet be so cold inside? Or was she?
An urge rose up in him, gentle but overwhelming. He leaned toward her, his gaze never wavering. Neither did hers. Their lips met. The kiss was sweet and tender, their mouths caressing each other’s. Everything inside him went gray, a soft kaleidoscope of gray. He pressed slightly, and her lips parted under his touch. Their tongues swirled leisurely together. He was afraid to touch her anywhere else, afraid of what he would find. Her mouth tasted of the finest champagne, yet more heady and more sensual. His body had no air, nothing to breathe but her. He felt as if he were falling into a warm abyss, from which he never wanted to emerge.
They pulled away at the same time, as if she felt that final plunge into the nothingness exactly when he did. He stared at her in shock. She stared back, her eyes wide. He wanted to deny the tender, alien sensations running through him. He didn’t want soft, or sweet, or intimate from her.
He turned and again looked out over the meadow, trying to regain his equilibrium. He was conscious that she did the same. He wanted to say something cynical or witty or even obnoxious, but he couldn’t find words. His mind was too filled with only one thought.
If Hilary Rayburn was a cold woman, where had that kiss come from?
Seated at one of the tables, Lettice watched her grandson kiss Hilary. Clearly things were going on that Devlin hadn’t planned. She smiled to herself. It served her grandson right.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marsh striding toward the younger couple. She immediately rose from her chair and started on a collision course toward him. Things might not be going quite so well with him, but she wasn’t about to allow him to ruin Devlin and Hilary.
She cut him off before he reached the couple and planted herself directly in his path. “Some of the hospital people are looking for you, Marsh.”
He pulled up short and blinked. She took him by the elbow, intending to turn him back toward the pavilion tent. Instead she received a jolt of long-lost sensuality. She wanted to take her hand away from the searing heat, but all her energy had been sapped. She swallowed and said lamely, “They’re looking for you.”
“Who?” His voice seemed far away.
“The hospital people … the administrator.”
“Oh …” He blinked, then looked behind her to Devlin and Hilary. “Excuse me, Lettice.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I think not.”
“Don’t give me that damned look of yours, woman,” he snapped. “Just move out of the way.”
“No. And I am not giving you that damned look.” She didn’t move her hand, even though her control was returning. “You have something else to do, now go and do it.”
“You bet your backside I do.” He pulled abruptly away and began to go around her.
Lettice put herself between him and the grandchildren again.
“Get out of the way, woman!”
“In a pig’s eye!”
They were beginning to make a scene, and she almost didn’t care. There was an excitement here, one she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“You listen to me, Lettice Biddle,” Marsh said. He looked ready to erupt as he shook his finger at her. “I am not going to allow your grandson to do to my granddaughter what you did to me.”
“Give it a rest, Marsh,” she said, impatient with his obtuseness. “I was nineteen and underage. Women were not allowed the freedoms they are now, if you’ll remember.”
His eyes narrowed. “I remember a little better than you’d like me to. I remember an engagement less than three months later—”
“Be careful, Marsh.” Lettice smiled slyly. “You’ll make me think you still care.”
“The hell I do!” he bellowed.
Lettice smothered her amusement at his burst of outrage. Things could be going better than she thought. “I just wanted to make sure,” she said calmly.
Under the tree Hilary turned around at the sound of raised voices. One voice actually.
“I thought so,” she murmured, seeing her grandfather towering over Lettice. His face was red with fury.
“What?” Devlin asked, coming out of his own reverie.
She glanced at him, but, still shaken and confused by the kiss, immediately looked away. She pointed to the makings of a grand scene behind her. “The grandparents are fighting.”
He sighed. “You can dress them up, but you sure can’t take them anywhere.”
“I guess we’d better go put them in separate sandboxes.”
“Agreed.”
Despite the easy words, the tension between them was unbearable. Hilary rose to her feet before he could help her. She didn’t want to feel his touch. She was afraid to. She had had a glimpse beyond the bad boy. She couldn’t afford another.
He picked up his coat and stood. They walked together, side by side, leaving a good foot between them. She tried to ignore the odd pain wending its way through her at the realization that he didn’t want to touch her either.
“At the rate they’re going,” she said, “we ought to have them on the honeymoon before the week is out”
“Very probably.” He was silent for a moment, then said, “Back there … that was for show, you understand.”
“Absolutely,” she replied, then ground her teeth together. She was getting sick of the “show.”
“Children, children,” Devlin said, when they reached their grandparents. “Are we having fun yet?”
“Barrels of it,” Marsh snapped, but he visibly relaxed. “I was just coming to get you, Hilary, before this … woman put herself in my way. Can we go home now?”
“Running?” Lettice asked.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Marsh said.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, there’s nothing to g
et flattered about.”
“Listen, old woman—”
“Old woman!” Lettice yelped. “Old woman! Why, you old far—”
“I think we’d better get them to their corners,” Hilary said to Devlin. People were looking now, recognizing that something untoward was happening.
“Round’s over, Grandmother,” Devlin said. He took his grandmother’s arm and led her away.
Hilary did the same. Her grandfather resisted, but she tugged hard and he finally moved. He was stiff at first and muttering something under his breath about old women, but his walk eventually loosened as they made their way toward the car. To her surprise it actually became jaunty, as if he were thoroughly enjoying himself.
She turned to look back at Devlin and Lettice. Lettice seemed to be walking vigorously, like a teenager almost. She admired the long line of Devlin’s back, the breadth of his shoulders, and the way his pants clung to his backside. As if he felt her gaze on him, he turned around. Hilary immediately faced forward again, humiliated at being caught.
She’d been caught by a lot of things that day, things that had left her shaken and confused and vulnerable.
Never again, she thought. Never again would Devlin Kitteridge catch her out.
Four
She couldn’t believe she was doing this.
Hilary scanned the docks from the parking lot above, then cursed herself for doing so. She had had to come down to Somers Point to buy very fresh fish for the dinner she was catering. Mrs. Hargreaves was extremely fussy, after all. And Somers Point was just a hop, skip, and a jump from Wildwood.
Okay, she thought. So it was more like forty minutes in the car. A little detour on the way home. She was just taking the scenic route, she rationalized, then cursed again and admitted the truth.
She had come out of curiosity about Devlin. One couldn’t help but be curious after no contact for five days. The grandparents were ripe for the striking, she had thought. He’d seemed to think so too. So why hadn’t he called to arrange another act to the show?
Hilary sat back in her car seat and sighed. She’d never find the Madeline Jo from up here. At the hospital tea she had desperately wanted to ask whom his boat was named after, but she’d sensed a wall closing off inside him. Jealousy had curled through her then, and it had eaten at her ever since. Who was this Madeline person? And what was she to him that he’d named his boat after her? Jealousy should have been a ludicrous emotion where Devlin Kitteridge was concerned. Who the women were in his life was none of her business. She shouldn’t care.
Hilary shook the thought away. Good thing this matchmaking was a joke. She had never seen two more completely incompatible people than they.
And yet that kiss …
She tightened her fingers around the steering wheel and forced away the sensuality curling up her thighs. It had been just a kiss and just for show. He’d said that. So had she. He might be sexy … Okay, he was sexy. He’d even been almost human the other day too. But that didn’t mean she had to be stupid. Anything with Devlin was a very dead end.
Go home, she told herself. But her fingers didn’t reach to switch on the ignition. Somehow they couldn’t. She scanned the docks again, then gave up when she couldn’t see the names on the boats. No one looked familiar either. She remembered him talking about his charters going out early in the morning. It was after one, and she wondered if he’d even be there. He could still be out, or perhaps home already, wherever that was. But if she could just get a look at the Madeline Jo …
The notion was growing ever more tempting. For some reason her mind wouldn’t leave it alone. She didn’t have to get up close, only close enough to know she was looking at the right one. One glimpse would do. That was all. One glimpse.
She checked her hair in the rearview mirror, made a face, then shoved her dark sunglasses back up onto her nose. She got out of the car and walked slowly to the steep ramp that led down to the docks themselves. The whole time she was looking for Devlin, ready to turn and run the moment she saw him. Curiosity was one thing, getting caught at it was another.
The sun was hot, and the cooling breezes that blew off the ocean just five blocks away were nonexistent here. The docks were busy, though, as people worked on boats or lounged on the decks. Seagulls called raucously overhead. Her heels made walking along the slatted boards a major operation in care. Her gaze was divided between watching where she was stepping and trying to spot Devlin before he spotted her. By the time she got down to where the boats were, her stomach muscles were clenched with anxiety.
She walked past small sailboats, ketches, cabin cruisers, and fishing boats with tall lookouts above the captain’s cabin. She was almost to the last place on the dock before she saw it. The Madeline Jo was long and sleek and clearly cared for by loving hands. The boat’s brass-and-chrome trim gleamed with polish, and the white paint glistened with pristine cleanliness in the bright light. Her heart dropped at the sight of the beautiful vessel.
“Veni, Vidi, Stupidi,” she muttered, giving a twist to the Roman motto of “I came, I saw, I conquered.” Yep, she came, she saw, she was stupid. She admitted she didn’t know what she’d been expecting. A filthy, broken-down boat that signified his lack of interest in it and therefore the woman he’d named it after? She should have known what she would find after he’d talked about the boat with such pride and caring. Obviously the softer side of Devlin was reserved for another woman.
She turned around and walked back to the stairs, cursing her curiosity yet again. Satisfying the thing could kill a person. She took two strides up the ramp, then glanced toward the top. She froze.
Leaning against the handrail at the beginning of the ramp was Devlin. Despite the baseball cap and dark wraparound sunglasses, she knew it was he. Every bone in her body, every nerve ending, responded instantly, as if a warning siren had just started wailing.
He was gazing down at her. And he was grinning.
Hilary drew in a deep breath to regain her control, then climbed the stairs to meet her doom.
Dev had known the moment he saw her who she was. It hadn’t mattered that she’d had her back to him. All his senses had come alive, and every muscle in his body had tensed at that first glance of the long line of her spine and the curve of her derriere. No woman caused that kind of reaction in him—except Hilary.
He had had to fight the urge to turn and walk away, not to let her see him. Hilary threatened him on more levels than he was prepared to fight.
And that kiss.…
That had scared the bejesus out of him. It had been too … sweet. Too damn innocent. He had gotten himself back to the safety of home and hearth without getting himself into any more trouble, and he was staying there. The grandparents could fend for themselves as far as he was concerned. Hilary was off-limits.
Until she showed up today.
He watched her hesitate at the bottom of the ramp, then climb steadily toward him. She wore another one of those prissy suits and high heels, both of which were out of place in his environment. He could feel the grin on his face, and he was helpless to stop it. He decided he’d need every bit of bravado to keep her from discovering the turmoil she created inside him.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, when she was nearly to the top. “What happened? Did you miss me?”
She faltered for a half-step, then straightened. She stepped off the ramp, walking right past him, then turned around. “I came to see if I could get some … crabs.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You drove all this way for crabs?”
“I need … fresh ingredients for a dinner I’m doing tonight.”
The glasses hid her eyes. He wished he could see them, see what emotions they revealed. “Couldn’t you have bought crabs live at your local market?” he asked. “Most sell them.”
“They wouldn’t be fresh enough,” she said, shrugging. “I need them straight out of the sea.”
He stared at her, oddly disappointed that she had come only for superfresh cr
abs. Then he shook his head. Perhaps these gourmet catering nuts would go to any extent to outdo themselves in the “fresh” department.
“Short of taking a boat out yourself, there isn’t anything down here,” he finally said. “Not at this time of day.”
Her mouth turned downward. “Oh.”
Primitive awareness shot through him at the way her lips pursed. Didn’t she know she nearly killed a man when she did that?
“You could go home by way of North Wildwood,” he said, dragging his gaze away from her mouth. “There’re a lot of crabbers up that end of the island. They keep their traps in the water all the time.”
She nodded and turned to leave. “Thank you—”
“Wait” He touched her hand. Her skin was soft, like velvet cream. Awareness frizzled along his nerve endings, seeming to suspend everything except the feel of her. He had to stop it immediately. He needed to tell her the deal was off. He brought himself under control and added, “Come down to the boat. I want to talk to you about something.”
“No!”
The vehemence in her voice surprised him.
“I mean,” she said quickly, “I have to get going. I have to find those crabs for tonight.”
He grinned. “Lucky crabs.” Then he got serious. “I’ll only take a few minutes. It’s important.”
She glanced around. “Well, can’t you say it here?”
He frowned. “I don’t need a damn audience. Now, what’s wrong with coming down to the boat?”
She looked around, then shrugged. “My shoes. The heels slip through the slats.”
“No problem. I’ll carry you.”
He began to reach for her, and she immediately backed away, somehow flipping off her high heels in the process.
“Thank you, but no,” she said gravely. “I think I can manage it now.”
He pointed to the wooden ramp. “You’ll get splinters.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“Okay.” He waved a hand. “After you.”
She walked down the ramp much less gingerly than she’d come up it. He grinned to himself. She also walked straight to his boat without stopping. His grin widened. She might have come for crabs, but she’d certainly taken a good look around while she’d been down there.