by Lori Wilde
“You were just going to go off and leave her?”
For one second, she looked shamefaced, but quickly recovered. “Ahmaya’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”
“And yet, you came with her.” Jeb raked his gaze over Haley. “Looking like that, I might add.”
A pink blush crept up her neck. “It’s Ahmaya’s dress.”
“You’re stunning.”
“Oh, I feel so special,” she said snidely. “I bet you said that to only a couple dozen women today.”
“More like a baker’s dozen,” he teased.
Her shoulders relaxed a little at that and a tiny smile briefly lit her lips. Small victory. With Haley, he’d take his triumphs where he could get them.
“Are you still planning on running away?”
“I’m not running away.”
“Seems to me you are.”
“I can’t run in these shoes. I was walking away or, more accurately, hobbling away.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like parties.”
“Why not?”
“They’re too crowded. I don’t like crowds.”
“Uh, you forget I saw you in action in those relief camps right after Hurricane Sylvia. The tents were packed tighter than sardine cans and you were right in the middle of it.”
“That was different. I was helping people.”
“C’mon back to the party,” he coaxed. “I’ll let you give the Heimlich maneuver if anyone chokes on a canapé.”
There was that brief smile again.
His heart gave a strange bunny hop. He held out a hand. “C’mon.”
They stood there a moment; Haley posed on the top steps, Jeb at the bottom, groveling, palm outstretched.
“Don’t leave me hanging, ba—” He almost said baby but stopped in the nick of time.
“Why should I come back to your party?”
“For one thing, you’re a good friend. Ahmaya needs you.”
“Low blow.”
“I’ll use any tool in the arsenal.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care so much if I’m at your party or not?”
It was a very good question. He didn’t have a glib answer handy and ended up just blurting out the truth. “I’ve got enough yes-men and yes-women around me. I need someone who knows how to luff a sail.”
“A what?”
“There are no brakes on a sailboat. The only way to slow down is to luff the sail. That means to undertrim the sail so it doesn’t catch any wind.”
“In other words, I’m a brake, huh?”
“Well, you know you are a stickler for rules, etiquette, proper behavior and all that.” He waved a hand.
“A wet blanket.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“A Debbie Downer.”
“I didn’t say that, either.”
“Why would you want a brake at your party? Parties are supposed to be go, go, go. No-holds-barred. Looks like you’d want an accelerator, not a brake.”
“Don’t be offended by the brake comment. A brake is a good thing,” he said. “A brake is very necessary. A brake keeps you safe.”
“Like a mother?”
He shoved fingers through his hair. “This isn’t going well, is it?”
“Not in the least.” She folded her arms over her chest, but the smile was back and stayed a fraction of a second longer this time.
“Come luff my sails, Haley.”
She hesitated. Ha! He had her.
“You’re already dressed to impress. Why waste it?” he cajoled.
“I don’t know why I’m even considering this.”
“’Cause part of you doesn’t really want to spend tonight all alone washing your hair.”
“I don’t mind being by myself.”
Man, she was a hard nut to crack. “Okay,” he said. “But you don’t know what you’re missing.” Taking a calculated risk, he turned to go.
“Wait.”
He grinned, stopped, but did not turn back around. “Yes?”
“I am pretty hungry. I’ll stay for a bite to eat.” The sound of her mincing down the metal stairs in her stilettos rang out into the twilight.
He bent his arm at the elbow, signaling for her to take it. To his surprise, she did.
“Only because I’m wearing high heels,” she said, reading his mind as she slipped her arm through his.
Her touch ignited a firestorm inside him. Jeb gulped. Good thing he was sailing out tomorrow—one more day around Haley and there was no telling what might happen.
*
HALEY HAD NO IDEA WHY she’d allowed smooth-talking Jeb Whitcomb to coax her into coming back to his party.
Partially, it was true that she was hungry and hated to cook for just herself, plus, there was her promise to Ahmaya, but there was another part of her that she didn’t really want to poke. The part that liked being around Jeb.
The minute they reached the deck of his sailing yacht, Haley let go of his arm. She was disturbed to find herself breathless.
“What would you like to drink?” Jeb asked.
“You don’t have to get my drink.”
“It’s no problem.” He lifted a finger at a white-gloved waiter waiting at the ready.
Haley supposed a lot of women fell for the master-and-commander routine. Your every wish was his command. Seductive, for sure, but she mistrusted anything that wasn’t hard-won.
The waiter appeared at his side.
“Could you please bring Miss French a…” Jeb looked at her expectantly.
“Diet cola.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t drink.”
“Not ever?”
“Rarely. New Year’s Eve. Wedding toasts. That kind of thing.”
“This is my going-away party.”
“So?”
“You’re not going to toast my journey?”
“I can toast with diet cola.”
He got a knowing look on his face. “Aha.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“The ‘aha’ meant something.”
“It’s not important.”
“Then why did you say it?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’ve figured out something about you.”
She pulled her lips downward. “And what is that?”
“You’re afraid of losing control.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I never said anything was wrong with it. Just had a lightbulb moment.”
“I like to keep my wits about me.”
“Make an exception,” he said.
“You want me witless?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“To prove you can let your hair down.”
“I don’t have to prove a thing to you.”
He leaned closer. “No, but wouldn’t it be fun to stop thinking so much for once and simply let go?”
“Five minutes ago you were telling me you needed someone who knew how to luff a sail.”
“If the sailcloth stayed luffed, you’d never set sail.”
“Nothing wrong with dry land.”
“You’re not a sailor?”
“Landlubber all the way. That’s me.” She groaned.
The waiter cleared his throat.
“You’re holding up the poor man,” Jeb said. “What’ll you have? And no diet coke unless it has rum in it.”
She thought about sticking to her guns, but it was easier just to give in, and at some point, you couldn’t fight everything, right? Pick your battles, Haley. Everything is not worthy of a crusade. She recited her mother’s frequent advice. “White wine, something with a low alcohol content and sweet.”
“Uh,” he said sounding mildly amused. “I had you pegged for something tart, like a salty dog.”
“What’s a salty dog?”
“Grapefruit juice and vodka with a salted rim
.”
“When it comes to alcohol, the sweeter the better.” She crinkled her nose. “I don’t like the taste.”
“Bring her a glass of Luccio Moscato d’Asti,” he told the waiter.
The waiter actually bowed, clicked his patent leather heels and departed for the open bar.
“What’s Moscato whatever?”
“Light, white dessert wine, five percent alcohol. Couldn’t get a kitten drunk on it. You’ll love the stuff.”
“Sounds perfect.” She spied Ahmaya in the center of a clot of men—so much for hope of rescue on that score.
“Come.” Jeb took her by the elbow and escorted her toward the buffet.
She wanted to resist out of general principle—he was far too proprietary—but the deck was crowded, and in these ridiculous stilettos, it was nice to have him threading the needle to the food. But what disconcerted her most was the feel of his skin against hers. Just like she’d enjoyed that kiss he’d given her on the beach several months back. Which, if she were being honest, was at the heart of why she wanted to avoid him.
He handed her a plate and the waiter brought her drink. Solicitously, Jeb held the wineglass for her while she filled her plate. The gentlemanly shtick was all part of his seduction ritual, no doubt. Don’t fall for his courteous manners. It’s a trap.
“You’re not going to have anything to eat?” she asked him.
“When I eat, I’m not giving my guests my full attention.”
“Well, feel free to mingle.” She waved him off. “Don’t let me hold you back.”
“Ah, but you’re one of my guests. I want to make sure all your needs are met.”
Her stomach grumbled, so she loaded up on food while he waited, and then he guided her down three steps to bench seating on the lower deck. Two people were sitting there, but he went over and whispered something to them and they got up. He turned to smile and waved triumphantly at the vacated seats.
“You ran them off?”
“I politely asked if they’d mind giving up their seats for a lady whose feet were hurting.”
“Hey, I can eat just fine standing up.”
Jeb sat and patted the spot next to him. “Please, have a seat, Haley.”
The way he said her name, as if it were the most elegant sound on earth, sent tingles zipping through her. Reluctantly, she sat and perched her plate on her knees, which she kept firmly pressed together in the too-short dress. Instead of meeting his gaze, she concentrated on pulling a morsel of chicken off a wooden skewer.
“I’m glad you came tonight.”
“That makes one of us.”
“You love busting my chops.”
She grinned. She did.
“How’s the wine?”
“Haven’t tasted it yet.” She took a sip. Ooh, it went down sweet and smooth. “I like it. Reminds me of Kool-Aid.”
“Wow, something you approve of. Duly noted.”
“No need to note it. This is the last time we’ll ever see each other.”
“You sound happy about that.”
Not happy. Relieved. And grateful that she’d managed to avoid his charms and stay out of his bed, although she’d had a near miss.
He reached out to touch her hand. “I’m going to miss you, Haley. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”
She slipped her arm away. “Great puff pastries. Kudos to the caterers.”
“I’ll pass along your compliments to the chef.”
An awkward silence passed between them.
“You’re one of the hardest workers I’ve ever had the pleasure to know,” he said.
“Thank you.” What was he getting at?
“And I admire how straightforward you are. No beating around the bush.”
“Speaking of that.” She dusted off her fingers with a napkin. “Let me just set you straight. There’s no way I’m spending the night with you. Not if it were my last night on earth.”
“Whew.” Laughing, he leaned back in his seat and wiped a palm over his forehead in mock relief.
Whew? Haley scowled.
“Because the last thing in the world I ever want to do is have sex with you,” he said.
She stared at him, stunned, her jaw unhinged. He did not want to have sex with her? “Excuse me?”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not because you’re not desirable, because you most certainly are in a tough-girl, nothing-touches-me-emotionally kind of way.”
“Then what the hell is this full-court press about? Begging me to come to your party, getting me food and wine, touching me like you mean business.”
He held up a palm. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight—you want me to want you, but you’re not about to sleep with me?”
Haley pursed her lips guiltily. Yeah, well, sorta. “I want to be the one woman who won’t fall at your feet.”
His grin turned wolfish. “You almost did.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Only because I called it off.”
“I would have called it off. You just beat me to it.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
She put her plate aside. She really wanted more of those crab-stuffed mushrooms, but she did not want to sit here with Jeb Whitcomb any longer. “You are driving me bonkers.”
“Right back atcha, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby!” How was it that this man could ruffle her so easily? She hated that.
“Why not? You’re acting like one. I was trying to pay you a compliment and you got all twisted off for no reason. You have a tendency to do that.”
“Yeah? Well, you have a tendency to believe you’re God’s gift to women. News flash, you’re nothing but a rich frat boy swooping in with your money to make yourself feel good.”
“What’s wrong with that? I feel good, people get the help they need.”
“Because you sail away to your fancy life, leaving people longing for you.”
His smile turned knowing and he lowered his voice. “Are you longing for me, Haley?”
“Yes, longing for you to be gone.” Wine in hand, she flounced away.
3
Safety harness—Personal gear that attaches to a tether to keep the person on board
JEB TOOK A LONG PULL off his Scotch and water; the synapses in his brain were alight with lusty and inappropriate impulses. He’d pissed her off.
Oh, she was gorgeous when she was mad and she had the world’s cutest scowl, hands down. He followed her up the steps, back to the bridge. She circled the boat.
He licked his lips.
She ended up talking to one of her coworkers starboard, but every now and then, she’d dart a glance in his direction. When their eyes met, she’d quickly glance away. Can’t handle the heat, huh, angel?
Corner her. Kiss her, hissed one of those lusty, inappropriate impulses.
Nope. No way. He’d lasted this long without giving in. He could certainly last one more night. Haley deserved much better than a quick one-night stand, but even a pious man had his share of sexual fantasies, right? And when it came to the pious spectrum, Jeb slid to the not-so-much side of the scale.
She was unlike the sophisticated society women that he usually dated, women who could shrug in and out of an affair like their designer clothes. Haley was honest and down-to-earth and direct, and he was a jerk for even entertaining the fantasies dancing around in his head.
He made the rounds, talking to his party guests, but no matter where he was on the boat, his gaze was drawn back to her again and again. A full moon climbed the sky, setting the mood and tugging at the tides. Haley stood in shadows with her head tilted up, bathing that side of her face in moonlight, and she let out a light laugh that stirred his desire.
Do something. Move. Drink. Eat. Talk to your other guests. Just stop staring at her!
He went toward her. She stood with her back against the mainsail mast, her spine as straight as the post. She had great posture, shoulders squared and alert.
People
stood around her, drinks in hand, but he saw none of them. Moonlight glinted off her eyes; her lips were painted deep pink. He realized it was the first time he ever remembered seeing her wear lipstick. The wind ruffled her hair, which for once was not pulled into a stern ponytail or tight bun. The breeze molded the dress to her slender figure, hugging her hips and stopping several inches above her knees.
His mammalian brain whispered, Claim her.
Resist. You are not going to succumb. One more night and you’ll be out to sea. Within a week, you’ll be holding Jackie in your arms and the wait will be worth it.
Love the one you’re with, prodded the most primal part of him.
He snuffed that out.
Or at least tried to.
Haley was watching him warily.
He moved closer.
She slunk away.
Seeing her in this environment—his environment—was novel and exciting, and he simply reacted, moving forward as she slipped away from him behind other guests.
The chase was on.
The part of his DNA that was thousands of years old stirred, eager for the hunt. His body quivered and his heart hammered against his rib cage. All his senses were aroused.
His civilized veneer vanished. Raw, aching need took over. Need so strong it scared him.
Back off! Wake up. Snap out of it.
Treacherous body.
He shook his head but could not seem to stave off the sense of urgency shoving his blood through his veins. He was a lion and she was the most beautiful lioness on the plains. She mesmerized him and he was aware of everything about her. It was disorienting, this acute sense of awareness.
His muscles were tensed, the hairs on his arms raised, a thrill shivered through his nerve endings. He felt well and truly alive, but the jolt was nerve-frazzling and worrisome.
Around and around the boat they went, Jeb pursuing, Haley fleeing. It was fun and he was quite enjoying himself, even though he knew nothing would come of this strange cat-and-mouse game. Didn’t want anything to come of it.
Until a group of people cornered him for a toast and Haley gave him the slip.
*
HEART IN HER THROAT, a helpless smile on her face, Haley hid behind a large man to catch her breath and then rushed down the steps as best she could to the lower deck. What was this weird game they were playing and why was she playing it? Why didn’t she just leave?
Why? Because Jeb had lit a fire inside her that scared her silly. Being with him was like driving a Ferrari on the Autobahn with a learner’s permit. Roadkill. She’d been there before. Refused to be there again.