Her jaw thrust mulishly. “I was taught to clean up my own mess.”
“Don’t push it, Ariel.” He took the dishcloth out of her hand. “Someone will take care of it. I can see on your face that you’re exhausted. Go take a bubble bath. Put your pajamas on. Read a book. Call your mom. You’re done for today.”
She didn’t like being bossed around. That much was clear. But perhaps her reserves of strength were waning, because she finally conceded. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said stiffly. “Will you be here when I leave in the morning?”
“Yes.” If he cancelled a meeting in Charlottesville at the university. “What time is your flight?”
“Midafternoon.” The surprising intimacy that had bloomed so quickly between them had vanished, leaving behind the stilted conversation of strangers.
He followed her back to her assigned bedroom and hovered in the doorway. “Do you need anything?”
“No.” She paused by the bed looking waifish and lost. “Good night, Doc.” Her gamine grin was a shadow of its former glory.
“Good night, Ariel.” Backing away from the door and shutting it firmly took a great deal of effort.
Six
Ariel wasn’t sleepy. By her body clock it was only late afternoon. Jacob Wolff had been trying to get rid of her.
She brushed her teeth and changed into a silky nightie before climbing into bed and surfing the satellite channels. Two of them were showing her own movies. Flipping past them rapidly, she made a face. Watching herself onscreen was torture.
Nothing amid the vast and varied programming schedule seized her attention. And she didn’t really have the patience to settle in for a movie.
She’d read the new script a dozen times already. And she had all of next week to prepare. After a long call to her mother, she was still wide awake.
Digging into her suitcase, she found her athletic sneakers and a pair of warm socks. Stripping off the sheer nightgown, she changed into her earlier jeans and top and added the shoes.
French doors on one side of her bedroom opened out onto a ground level patio. She wouldn’t be bothering Jacob. No doubt he was sound asleep. Carefully opening the glass panels, which did not squeak, she slipped into the scented night.
Her sense of direction had stood her in good stead on many occasions. Tonight, it enabled her to explore. She wouldn’t go near the castle—too much chance of discovery. Instead, she headed up and to the left, following higher and higher ground until she broke through the trees and gasped in fright.
Even in the gloom, she could tell that the ground fell away beneath her feet. She paused abruptly, clinging to a small tree to steady her knees. Her breathing was labored, pushed to the limit by the steep climb. Beyond where she stood, the sea of night gave way to a heavenly canopy. Her heart beat faster.
It was spectacular. All around her the forest chirped and whirred with a million night sounds. Unseen animals prowled the woods, but Ariel wasn’t afraid. She was one of them. A silent, still creature paying homage to the wild and wonderful darkness.
Time ceased to have meaning. She inhaled the scent of pine, dragging in lungfuls of non-polluted air and feeling it fill her chest with a light, giddy pleasure. Badly, she wanted to see what was in front of her, but an atavistic sense of danger kept her feet rooted in place.
She rested her cheek against the tree trunk, feeling the rough bark press into her cheek almost painfully. This was real. Honest. Deeply spiritual. So much of her existence was make-believe, which she lived for. But sometimes it was nice to remember that the world was bigger than her corner of it.
She might have dozed, her arms wrapped around the tree like a lover. Tomorrow, in the daylight, she would return. The need to expose the mystery in front of her was urgent, exciting.
Jacob’s mountain was a place of infinite possibility. Was it fair of her to ask him to leave?
As she pondered the difficult question, a rustle behind her and a disgruntled male voice shattered her calm. “Are you insane?” He loomed beside her, barely breathing hard, his big body radiating warmth and security.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you thought you would throw yourself off a cliff instead?”
Even without seeing his expression, she registered his disapproval. “I’m being careful.”
“Ariel,” he said, his voice deep and aggravated, “you’re about four feet away from a seven-hundred-foot sheer drop.”
Wow. Her stomach did a little flip. “I’m fine. Don’t be such a worrywart.”
She thought she heard him counting to ten. He took her arms, pulling her away from the tree. “Step carefully. Back up slowly.”
Clinging more tightly to the trunk, she resisted him. “I like it here. I don’t want to leave.”
“This is your doctor speaking. Your skin is frozen and you’re trembling. Come here.”
“Or what?”
“Or the deal is off.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“You signed on for it.”
She was definitely tired and chilled, but it went against the grain to let him be so bossy. “Maybe the deal was a stupid idea.” She felt him go still.
“Why?” he asked gruffly.
“Because I shouldn’t be taking you away from this mountain. It’s part of who you are.”
“Let me worry about my life. You’ve got plenty of balls to juggle in yours.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, warming them. “Take my hand.”
Without thinking, she let go of her bulwark and linked the fingers of her right hand with his left. He tugged her backward insistently, but gently so she didn’t stumble.
When they were safely away from the precipice, Jacob strode back to the house, practically dragging her in his wake. Finally, she dug in her heels. “What’s your hurry? I like it out here…with you.”
He stopped so abruptly she bumped into him. Instinctively, her arms went around his waist and she burrowed into his warmth. The calendar said late summer, but here on the mountain the night was cold.
Jacob went rigid. “Don’t play with me, Ariel,” he warned. “I’m not one of your Hollywood pretty boys.”
“What does that mean?”
“You may be used to screwing every guy you meet, but that’s not my style.”
She jerked away, almost tripping over an exposed root. “God, you’re a pig. What makes you think I want you?”
“There’s something between us,” he said quietly. “I’m not imagining it. You’re very sexy and you radiate an invitation that would be hard for most men to resist. But if I’m going to help you, I don’t want to complicate things. Grow up, Ariel. You don’t need to have every man in the universe worshipping at your feet.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say.” She shoved him hard, making him stumble before he regained his balance. Appalled and confused and anxious and angry, she faced off with him, unable to see his expression, but terrified by his silence. Had she made him change his mind?
“I’m sorry,” she cried out. “You provoke the hell out of me. Please don’t be mad. I have a temper.”
Though the mountain climb hadn’t strained him, he was breathing heavily now. “So I see.”
She flung her arms around him in an agony of remorse. “I’m sorry. I promised to follow doctor’s orders. And I will, I swear.” When he still didn’t respond, she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. His lips were firm and warm and unresponsive. She pulled back. “Am I forgiven?” She was banking on his good nature, but she didn’t know him well enough to read his silence. The anticipation of his response was killing her. “Say something,” she cried.
“Does anyone ever deny you anything?” He drew her into his embrace, his mouth covering hers with aching slowness. “One day,” he muttered, the words muffled against her lips. “One damn day and already you’ve got me spinning in the wind.”
His tongue slipped between her lips. “Open for me, Ariel.”
&nb
sp; She obeyed instantly, crying out when his teeth trapped her lower lip and tugged. Her body went liquid, boneless. All of her weight was supported by arms whose tensile strength was normally hidden beneath crisply starched shirts.
Jacob Wolff might look like a man of science, an academic whose computer-like brain dealt with tasks that went beyond the capacity of the normal human. But strip away the veneer, and he was an alpha male. Aroused. Hungry. Determined to teach her a lesson.
The kiss went on and on until her neck ached. Heat pooled between her thighs and made her squirm against him. “Jacob,” she panted. “Oh, Jacob.”
He was deaf to her tremulous homage. His hands cupped her ass, lifting her more closely against him. She felt the press of his belt buckle, heard the hitch in his breath when her tongue shyly dueled with his.
They were rapidly reaching a point of no return. And she realized in a haze of yearning that she would have to be the one to call a halt. As much as she wanted to see where this led, the memory of Jacob’s scathing assessment of her character held her back.
She pushed at his chest. “You don’t want this,” she panted. “Stop. Now.”
“The hell I don’t.” His arms were bands of steel.
Every instinct she possessed told her that becoming this man’s lover would be an experience she would never forget. But he had rules. And she needed him in more ways than one. “Let me go, Jacob,” she said gently. She put a hand to his cheek. “Let me go.”
A mighty shudder shook his frame and he dropped her to her feet so suddenly, she stumbled. Though he steadied her automatically, he jerked his hand away afterward as if touching her was unbearable. “I don’t know what to make of you, Ariel Dane.” His voice was quiet, troubled. “Are you a spoiled princess or a recalcitrant child?”
She sucked in a breath, stunned to realize that this man she had just met could wound her. “What if I’m neither? The world is not as black and white as your house and clinic, Doc. Most of us live in shades of gray.” Her throat was tight with emotion, making speech difficult. “Perhaps we can start over.”
“It’s too far gone for that. So we’ll make the best of it. I made you a promise and I don’t go back on my word.”
“Even to a promiscuous party girl?”
“Is that what you are?”
“You seem to have me all figured out. Far be it from me to shatter your illusions.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “It’s late. I’m going back to the house. Please don’t feel any obligation to see me off in the morning. I think it’s best if we keep our distance.”
“Is that what you want?”
“We can’t always get what we want,” she said flatly. “Good night, Doc.”
Seven
Ten days later, Jacob stood on the tarmac, watching in bemusement as a young man loaded Ariel’s array of baggage into the Wolff private jet. She had balked at the idea of traveling with him at first. Jacob fancied she didn’t like the idea of being beholden.
But this way was clearly easier on her, both healthwise and in terms of avoiding her legions of fans. Even first class was no longer the luxury it once was.
He had offered to pick her up in L.A., but they had rendezvoused instead in D.C. Ariel was in full movie-star mode today: five-inch heels in hot pink and black, a chic ebony linen sheath, designer sunglasses and a straw hat trimmed with pink ostrich feathers.
Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a woman wear a hat, with the exception of the queen. But Ariel pulled it off.
Once they were settled in the cabin, she pointedly ignored him, all her attention on her iPhone as she texted. Her hat was now on the seat beside her.
He moved the frivolous piece of millinery, took the seat and belted in. Most people were impressed the first time they saw the luxurious interior of the Wolff jet. Ariel had barely spared a glance for the plush, armchair-like seats or the trolley of freshly prepared snacks and baked goods offered by the male flight attendant.
Nudging her arm, he demanded her attention. “It’s good to see you, Ariel. How are you feeling?”
She paused and looked down her nose at him. “Very well, thank you.”
If her voice had been any colder, it would have frozen him to the bone. He ran a hand down her arm, feeling both its fragility and its strength. Despite her illness, she had a body that was physically fit—a necessity in her line of work. Jacob knew enough to realize that the rigors of shooting on location were demanding in more ways than one.
“If people are going to believe I’m your boyfriend, you should probably work on that hostility.”
“Couples fight. Big deal.”
He rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me about the movie. What’s it called?”
Finally, she shut off the phone and tucked it in her purse, withdrawing her arm from his loose hold. Her gaze was wary. “A Rising Tide. It’s based on a true story from the time of the British presence in Antigua in the eighteenth century. My character, Viola, is the madam of a high-class brothel that caters to officers and wealthy plantation owners. She was raised a lady in England, but when her husband died, his heirs threw her out. She stole some money, hid out on an outbound ship and ended up in the Caribbean.”
“So what’s the rest of the story line?”
“Viola rounds up a dozen young, destitute local women, takes them under her wing and turns them into stylish prostitutes. But she never actually sells her own body. One of the high-ranking naval officers on the island lusts after her and threatens to shut down her operation unless she becomes his mistress. They fall in love with each other eventually, but neither one wants to admit what they see as weakness. So they are as much adversaries as lovers.”
“What happens in the end?”
“Viola winds up pregnant, but the officer has been commanded to return to England for a promotion that will put him into administration rather than on the high seas. He begs her to go with him, but she can’t face the thought of rejoining polite society, knowing that her sordid activities in Antigua will always shadow her. On the eve of his homeward voyage, Viola goes into labor, loses the baby and dies in his arms.”
Jacob winced. “Wow. Not exactly a romantic comedy.”
“No. But funny, upbeat pictures don’t get nominated. To get a bid, it’s the sadder the better. Usually. And if the movie is based on truth, it’s even more likely to be noticed.”
“So you think you have a shot?”
“No film is ever a sure thing, but this is my biggest chance so far to break out of the blonde bimbo mold.”
He grimaced. “No one believes you’re a bimbo.” When Ariel didn’t say anything, he took her hand. “I should have called you long before now.”
Her gaze was wary. “Why?”
“To apologize. I’m sorry I intimated you sleep around,” he said quietly. “It was a cheap shot.”
She moved restlessly in her comfortable seat, again breaking his loose hold, as if she couldn’t bear for him to touch her. “It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”
“That doesn’t make my regret any less valid or sincere. I really am sorry.”
She gave him a sideways glance before turning her attention to the window and lapsing into a remote silence.
Jacob sighed inwardly. He deserved her pique. It had been a cheap shot, but that night in the woods, he’d been scrambling to regain his equilibrium after Ariel cuddled up against him, all warm and soft and sexy. It was a miracle he hadn’t taken her there in the forest.
But he had come close. Damn close. Which was exactly why he had to keep his distance. She seemed so damned alone and vulnerable. But though Jacob was determined to help her, the situation was emotional quicksand.
With Ariel giving him the silent treatment, he decided he might as well get some work done. Once the pilot turned off the seat belt sign, Jacob retrieved his briefcase and pulled out an article he’d been meaning to read.
It was late afternoon when
they prepared to land at the small airport outside of St. John’s, the capital city. Jacob had visited the Caribbean a couple of times for various professional conferences, but never Antigua.
He leaned across Ariel to get a better view. Below them, the irregularly shaped island was a splash of green vegetation and white sand against the azure of the ocean. “Looks like a postcard,” he said, noting the way Ariel shrank back in her seat. His arm had brushed her breast when he moved. Not on purpose. But her reaction was telling.
Ariel shoved him away. “Quit hogging the view.”
Grinning, he sat back in his seat while she glued her nose to the Plexiglas. For someone who had traveled a great deal, Ariel surprised him with her almost palpable excitement.
She pointed at a pristine bay as they circled to touch down. “Look at how deserted the shore is. They say the island has a beach for every day of the year.”
“Maybe in our free time we can explore.”
She shot him a pitying look over her shoulder. “Free time? You’ve got a lot to learn.”
The business of disembarking and heading through customs took less than an hour. Outside the modest terminal building a white SUV sat waiting. A slender, plain-featured woman hovered anxiously, and as soon as Ariel stepped foot into the sunlight, the female scurried forward.
“Welcome to Antigua,” she said breathlessly. “I’m your P.A.—Harriet Logan. We’ll head straight to the hotel if you’re ready.”
She ignored Jacob completely, all her focus trained on Ariel. As far as Jacob could tell, Harriet was in her mid to late thirties. Her attire fell somewhere between ’60s hippy and shabby librarian. A single long braid hung to her waist in back, and she wore thick, horn-rimmed glasses.
Ariel held out her hand, a blinding smile on her face. “Hello, Harriet. Lovely to meet you.”
Harriet blinked, perhaps stunned by the wattage of Ariel’s beaming goodwill. Jacob sympathized. Ariel in “celebrity” persona was nothing short of mesmerizing. He felt a kick in his gut even ten feet away.
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