September Storm

by Brenda Jernigan

  After Dani dried off, she looked into her bag and pulled out a pair of navy blue shorts and her favorite chambray shirt which had belonged to her brother. She liked big, baggy, comfortable clothes at the beach.

  She looked in the cabinet and found a hair dryer, which she used to dry her long, blonde hair. She didn't take time for makeup. She had to get out of this house. But what was she going to tell Steven? How could she have come to the wrong house?

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror. There was no need for blush. Her cheeks had been stained a permanent rose from the moment she'd stepped into the beach house.

  She'd always been attracted to olive-skinned men with dark hair. Why did he have to be so damned good looking? He favored a younger Andy Garcia, one of her favorite actors. Why couldn't he have an ugly wart right on the end of his nose with little hairs sticking out all around?

  When Dani finally stepped out of the bathroom, peering out to see if the coast was clear, she was relieved to find she was alone. She scanned the room, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything before she made her escape. She had to get out of here! The sooner the better.

  It was easy to find the kitchen. She just followed the smell of coffee. Her stomach grumbled, reminding Dani that she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. When she saw the man standing in front of the stove cooking, she almost lost her appetite. He reached for a plate, his shirt stretching snugly across his shoulders, and her hunger returned.

  But it wasn't just food she hungered for, and that thought scared her.

  She'd played it safe all her life, and now here she stood thinking lustful thoughts. This could mean trouble. God, she had to get out of here. Dani cleared her throat to gain his attention.

  He glanced over his shoulder. "How do you like your eggs?"

  "No. Don't bother." She shook her head. "I'm not hungry. Really."

  He raised a doubtful eyebrow. "I believe that was your stomach growling in bed this morning, so I know you're hungry. Besides, it's too early to tell your . . . Steven that you've just arrived on the ferry.

  “I've been thinking about this, and we need to decide what you're going to tell your friend. We can do that while we eat," he stated, looking too damn smart for his britches as he turned the bacon. "Now, how do you want your eggs cooked?"

  "Over light," Dani said, accepting his logic as she dropped her bag in the hallway.

  Maybe it won’t hurt to stay a little while longer.

  He was right. Her guilt could use some food for company. Dani hadn't thought about what she was going to tell Steven. She couldn't very well say, "I took the wrong turn and drove all night." There wasn't anything to drive on this island but a golf cart.

  "Can I get you some coffee?" She might as well be agreeable since he was cooking. And she had to keep herself busy to keep her mind off him, what she'd done, and what was going to happen in the future. Her head felt twice its normal size and her temples throbbed a beat all their own. She definitely needed some coffee.

  Lots of it.

  "Please. Make mine black." He looked at her and grinned as he broke the egg into the pan. "By the way, I like your shirt. It seems we do have something in common."

  Danielle looked down, realizing that they had on the same style shirt. "At least in clothes," she conceded, then reached into the cabinet and took out two coffee mugs. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye, and she couldn't help admiring his bronzed features and the authority in his jaw line. "Do you have a name?"

  He glanced at her before returning his attention to the frying pan. He picked up a spatula and flipped the eggs. "You seem to get a bit distressed if a man's name isn't Steven," he teased. "Are you sure you want to hear mine?"

  She laughed and found the tension easing out of her shoulders. He didn't seem threatening at all. "Be serious," she said while she stirred cream into her coffee mug. "I'd like to call you something other than stranger."

  "Adrian Massimino, at your service," he said as he slid her eggs onto a plate.

  "That's odd. An English first name and an Italian surname. I can see where the Italian name came from." Who couldn't see that? her brain screamed. "But what's the story on your first name?"

  He picked up the plates and set them on the table, then walked over to pull the drapes open. "Looks like the sun is out," he commented before heading back to the table. "My mother's British, hence, the name. Don't you like it?"

  Danielle was already seated, putting sugar in her coffee when he sat down across from her. "I think it's a beautiful name." She looked briefly at him but her eyes drifted back to the food. "I also think you've done a wonderful job with breakfast." The aroma of sugar-cured bacon, eggs, and toast tempted her as she tried to decide where to start, knowing she had to eat something before she could get rid of her headache.

  "I hope you enjoy it," he said as she reached for the salt and pepper. "Cooking is a hobby of mine."

  "Your wife doesn't cook?" Dani couldn't think of any other tactful way to ask about his marital status. And it really shouldn't matter, but for some stupid reason it did. It was bad enough what they had done, but if he were married.... Never mind, she told herself, noticing an odd emotion enter his eyes.

  "Ah, Danielle. You know how to hurt a man." He placed his hand over his heart.

  "I'm sorry," she apologized. "You just look like a typical playboy."

  "Are you always so insulting at breakfast?" He waved his fork at her as if she were a bad child. "If so, I definitely don't want to have lunch with you. You'll be fully awake by then."

  After his last remark, Dani realized how she must have sounded and smiled. "No. I'm not usually this way, it's--it's just that I've never quite started a morning like this before. Again, I'm sorry."

  "Apology accepted. Just remember, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

  "With you, it's all I have."

  "Such a shame that we'll not be spending more time together." He shook his head and winked. "Trust me. I have some very interesting pages."

  "No doubt." Dani laughed, feeling more at ease with him with every passing minute. He'd probably charmed the pantyhose off every woman he met. Considering which, she'd be wise to change the topic, she decided quickly.

  "This is great," Dani murmured, indicating the bacon. Food had never tasted so good and, hopefully, this breakfast would stop the rumbling in her stomach. At least then one of her problems would be solved.

  "What are you going to tell your friend?"

  "I haven't thought about it." She leaned back, holding a cup of coffee between her hands. "But the truth definitely won't do." At least not until she figured out her relationship with Steven. Last night was too personal and embarrassing for her own ears much less telling someone else.

  "I agree," Adrian said as he slipped three more strips of bacon onto his plate. "I think you should tell him that you didn't arrive until this morning. And I was at the dock and offered you a ride."

  "That sounds good." She glanced at him with a question in her eyes. "You came up with that so quickly. Do you lie often?"

  "Ah, my little shrew." He grinned devilishly. "I don't make it a habit, but I've had to tell a white lie every now and then."

  Dani wasn't sure what had gotten into her. She wasn't in the habit of attacking people, but he seemed to bring out the fight in her. She wanted to laugh because it was so different from her usual mild-mannered self -– the one who never took chances and always got along with everyone.

  Come on, Dani, leave the man alone. Be nice.

  "It was good of you to help me out after this morning. I wonder what happened to your--"

  "Call girl." Adrian supplied the rest. "I don't know. This island is a place to come to get away from life. There are no phones out here, so I can't call my friends. They probably agreed with me after they thought about it, and decided it wasn't such a good idea and cancelled the whole thing."

  "What about your girlfriend? Never mind." Dani caught herself. "I'm sorry. It's none of
my business." She raised her coffee mug as if to toast him. "Anyway, belated happy birthday."

  There was a smug smile in his voice when he held his cup up in a salute. "Thanks for the present."

  Her smile faded. "That wasn't funny." She shoved the chair back and stood. "It's time for me to go."

  "Come on, Dani. You can't hold a grudge forever."

  She felt a warm tingling at the use of her nickname, but she ignored it. The man was insufferable. "Wanna bet?"

  "Listen." He stood and caught her arm. "You can't change what happened, no matter how badly you want to. Just think, after today you won't see me again." He released her, then started to remove the plates from the table. "That should make you happy," he added with a touch of sarcasm.

  Danielle didn't bother to comment as she turned and watched him leave the room. Happy wouldn't be quite the word she would have used. His faded jeans were threadbare and a knee showed through one leg. Evidently, he wasn't the proprietor of this house. Probably more like the caretaker, or maybe a friend of the owners. On second thought, her first impression was probably right. He was a playboy--only broke.

  "Let me get my keys, then I'll help you with your bags," Adrian said from the hallway, then he glanced around the room, trying to remember where he'd put his house keys.

  He was letting the woman get under his skin, and for no reason whatsoever. Usually he chased women with the ultimate goal of getting them into bed. Then, somehow, his interest always waned.

  Now, however, everything was backward. He'd bedded a woman he knew nothing about, and the most irritating thing was: he really wanted to get to know her better. Adrian’s interest was stimulated. He felt like a man in a desert who needed a drink of water. He'd been given a sip, but he wanted ... no, needed the whole jug.

  Searching through the pockets of the slacks he’d worn yesterday, he found the lost set of keys. He'd never misplaced his keys before. Come to think about it, he was acting like a man in the desert who had been out in the sun too long. Instead of being eager to get rid of her, he was thinking how sexy and desirable Danielle Kapur was, and how easy it would be to forget his vow of no serious relationships.

  Strolling back to the kitchen, he realized he needed to get this woman out of his house. Fast.

  He was delusional!

  As Dani waited by the door for Adrian, she glanced at her watch and realized it was even later than she'd thought. In half an hour it would be lunch time, and they had just finished breakfast. Suddenly the old saying, "the early bird catches the worm" sprang into her thoughts.

  She'd definitely caught a worm--but the wrong worm. Her cheeks grew warm. She had blushed more in the last twenty-four hours than she had in a lifetime. How was she ever going to forget this awful mistake?

  "Let's go." Adrian brushed past her and opened the door, holding it while he waited for her to go through.

  A warm breeze whipped through the door with a great amount of force, and Dani had to catch it to keep it from slamming. "My Goodness, the winds are strong here. I'm really surprised the sun is out today." Dani picked up the smaller of the two bags and walked outside. "It sure looked stormy yesterday."

  Adrian locked the front door and punched the security code. "I would have bet money we were in for a downpour," he commented, then moved over and examined an instrument hanging on the side of the house just under the eve. "When I glanced at the ocean this morning, it looked choppy."

  "What's that?" Dani asked, indicating the instrument he had consulted.

  "A barometer. And the pressure is falling."

  "Which means?"

  He turned to her and smiled. "It means this bright, blue sky and this unusual warm temperature is not what we're going to be having twenty-four hours from now," he said, not certain if what he expected were true. "I’m sure we're in for a September storm."

  "Too bad," she said, then turned and started for the steps. "I guess I won't get a suntan, then."

  Adrian didn’t comment. Instead, he wished that Sea Horse Island was the home of nude beaches instead of well-respected family homes.

  How he'd love to take warm coconut oil and rub down every inch of Danielle Kapur's luscious body.

  Chapter Three

  Danielle started down the stairs and Adrian followed, his gaze straying to the beautiful long hair that swayed across her back and shone like honey-gold wheat. "You always have today to sunbathe," he answered, referring to her earlier statement. He envisioned her in a skimpy bikini, and his body hardened at the thought.

  Stop it, Adrian warned himself. He didn't need any complications. And this woman spelled complications! He liked his life just the way it was at the moment . . . peaceful.

  After backing the golf cart out of the garage, Adrian glanced over to the woman beside him. She was much too quiet, and he wondered what thoughts tumbled through her mind. Was she looking forward to throwing her arms around Steven's neck and making mad, passionate love to him as they had just the night before? Did she really love the man? His jaw tightened. He really didn’t give a damn, he reminded himself.

  "We’re here," Adrian announced when he swung the golf cart into the driveway. He pulled to a stop and turned toward her. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. He felt as if he were sending her to an execution instead of her precious Steven. What kind of man was this Steven? And was he good enough for Dani?

  "Thank you," she said in a stiff voice as she got out of the cart, catching her heel on the metal rung so that she stumbled and almost sent herself headfirst into the sand.

  Adrian reached for her but she straightened. He started to get out. "I'll help you carry your bags."

  "No!" Dani all but shouted, holding her hand up like a crossing guard.

  Then it dawned on him that she was afraid to be too close to him. Oh, how he liked that. Afraid she’d feel the emotions she experienced last night. He had a hunch that Dani had always played everything on the safe side.

  "Thank you. You've done more than enough," she continued, her manner calmer now, but her eyes told him something different as they watched him warily, her gaze never leaving his face.

  She had the rarest, cornflower blue eyes he'd ever seen. "I--I can manage."

  "Fine. I'll wait here until you're safely inside."

  "You don’t have to bother," Dani said over her shoulder.

  "But--"

  She stopped and pinned him with her gaze. "I'm a big girl and I'll be just fine. Goodbye."

  Damn, she was a stubborn female! Well, let her have it her way, Adrian thought after he swung the cart around. As he drove away, he struggled to ignore the little voice in his head that said, Don't let her go.

  Dani watched Adrian leave, feeling a bit guilty for being so rude. He had gone out of his way to be nice to her since he'd learned of the mistake, yet she couldn't face Steven under the watchful eyes of the man she'd just slept with. She also wouldn't be likely to forget Adrian while he was anywhere around. Dani sighed. He was like no other man she'd ever met before. There was something dynamic and powerful about him that drew her.

  Picking up her second bag, Dani struggled to the top of the stairs. One thing about it, if she lived around here all the time, she wouldn't need a step-machine. She wasn't quite sure why, but these bags seemed to be getting heavier every time she picked them up. When Dani reached the deck, she gladly put them down, and then rang the doorbell.

  No one came.

  "Doesn't anybody on this damned island ever answer the door?" She swore and pushed the button again, tapping her foot while she waited. When she received no response, she tried the doorknob. It was locked.

  Now what? She couldn’t just stand there, so she walked around to look into one of the windows. The interior was dark except for the thin streams of sunlight that threw a few weak shadows into the interior. There were definitely no signs of human life in there.

  Miserable, she glanced out across the sea and wondered why life just seemed to pass her by. Would she never find the one man that was
meant for her? She'd thought it was Steven, but it was clear now that she’d been mistaken. He came from a well-to-do family, he was nice looking, but she was having a hell of a time finding him. Or perhaps, a little voice nagged at her, he didn't want to be found.

  But why had he arranged this weekend?

  The huge waves had darkened, their force intensifying as they crashed to the shore. They appeared angry, Dani couldn’t help thinking, just like she was. Standing here wasn’t accomplishing anything, so Dani flounced back to her bags. With an exasperated sigh, she plopped down on the top step.

  She hated men. All men! They were too much trouble. They were not dependable, and you couldn't trust them for a minute.

  Now, what in the hell was she supposed to do?

  She had dragged her luggage on and off planes, suffered a two-hour delay, damned near starved to death, and made love to a complete stranger . . . only to end up at an empty house where the love of her life would supposedly be waiting and worrying about her. Yeah, right!

  Her friend, Susan, had been right . . . she was a fool where men were concerned.

  Her eyes burned, and Dani quickly pinched the ridge of her nose to keep from crying. She'd shed too many tears over Steven in the past. He had proven once and for all that he wasn’t worth it. She wouldn't cry, she told herself. She wouldn't.

  "Steven probably never even showed up," she said to a seagull who landed with a soft swish on the deck rail, watching her with a curious tilt of his head.

  Well, Steven had stood her up for the last time. There were no Prince Charmings in real life . . . only Darth Vaders . . . and she was sick of all of them!

  She blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes. "Okay, Danielle," she told herself. "Let's get the hell off this island before anything else happens to you."

  She stood up, grabbed her suitcase, drew a deep breath, then started down the thirty or so steps, the bag thumping behind her. She silently cursed each one as she descended. When she reached the end of the driveway, she extended the handle on her upright bag and started down the street, pulling her luggage behind her.