Breathless on the Beach

by Wendy Etherington

  She’d have to put that on her to-do list. Unfortunately, she didn’t have her phone with her, as she’d left it in her room before the boat ride.

  Fine. Her brain was still sharp enough to make mental notes.

  Even if she was interested in a weekend fling, Jared McKenna wouldn’t make the cut. Hot as he might be, she always went for guys with cachet and success. Tour guide wasn’t exactly her usual choice of date. Of course, she didn’t have much to show for her past relationships, either, and there was something about him that—

  She heard the door open and, turning, wasn’t surprised to see Jared strolling toward her. “Is this going to be a thing with us?” she snapped.

  “Depends on what you mean by thing,” he said calmly in the face of her anger.

  They could be a lot of things, she supposed, but she chose to ignore the possibilities for intimacy and focus on the immediate conflict.

  “A habit,” she clarified. “One of us comes out here to be alone, and the other one invades.”

  Joining her at the railing, he raised his eyebrows. “Invades?”

  She was still both embarrassed and vaguely mad. Not a good combination. She made an effort to shrug off both. Emotions wouldn’t get her the contract she needed. “Argumentative, as my father would say in court. Sorry,” she added.

  “Understandable. You’ve had quite a day.”

  “Yeah.” With the incident on the boat fresh in her mind, she’d almost forgotten about the rest of the lousy afternoon. She stared over the water at the moon and was glad the glowing orb was the only light source. With Jared merely a shadow in the dark, she found it easier to admit the truth. “Things didn’t go exactly the way I planned.”

  “Not too sporting of Richard to spring Peter on you without a heads-up.”

  “No.”

  Jared’s warmth, the scent of the sea and a hint of fresh, alluring cologne emanated from him. Had he gone to his room to shower before seeking her out? The unexpected. Maybe that was what made him so appealing.

  She wasn’t a woman who played games with men she was attracted to, and though she should be focused on her job, she wasn’t desperate enough to lie to him or herself.

  She turned toward him, intending to admit just that, when he asked, “Why the hell are you placating that dumb-ass?”

  “Richard?” She’d sensed tension between them, but Jared’s outright hostility was revealing. “Fine way to talk about your boss.”

  “I don’t work for him,” he said shortly. “Rose hired me.”

  “Uh-huh.” The doting between the two, the secret smiles… Pieces fell into place and formed a picture Victoria didn’t particularly relish. “Did you take her on a cowboy adventure weekend, too?”

  “No.”

  “She’s an avid Jet Ski rider?”

  His lips flipped up at the corners. “She doesn’t like to get her hair wet.”

  “Yet you seem awfully familiar with each other.”

  “I’ve worked for her several—” He stopped, his expression speculative. “Are you asking me if I’ve slept with Rose Rutherford?”

  “I am.”

  He laughed. He pulled Victoria into his arms and laughed harder.

  While she was glad he didn’t seem angry anymore, and enjoyed the joyous rumbling in his chest, she couldn’t help feeling foolish about Rose.

  “She’s thirty years older than me,” Jared said when he’d recovered enough to speak.

  “So?” Victoria leaned back to eye him closely. “That’s never stopped her before.”

  “I imagine not.” Jared traced his finger along her jaw. “Rose and I aren’t, and have never been, lovers.”

  “Okay.” Rose appreciated a hot young guy more than most women her age, a fact Victoria should probably warn Jared about, but she had bigger topics to explore. “Why were you so angry with Richard—and apparently me—earlier? When you stormed out of the cocktail hour?”

  “I don’t like seeing you fawn over him.”

  Typically blunt. Something they had in common. “Why?”

  His arm tightened around her waist. “I want you to fawn over me.”

  Her breathing hitched. Her brain buzzed. And she certainly couldn’t remember why she’d been so determined to keep him at a distance. “I can do that.”

  “So why’d you lie earlier about liking me? For the last two hours, I’ve had visions of some guy you work with showing up to challenge me to a duel.”

  “I don’t…” She angled her head. “A duel?”

  “Maybe a shoot-out. You keep callin’ me a cowboy.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “You still lied,” he reminded her.

  “I tried to make you believe otherwise, because I don’t like to give anybody the upper hand.”

  “But with me you don’t have to live up to some ridiculously impossible ideal.”

  He’d met her only a few hours ago and already knew her hot-button issue. No way was she that transparent. In his business, she assumed, he had to be sensitive about knowing who was serious about jumping off cliffs and who only wanted to imagine or talk about doing so. But his perception was still unnerving.

  “Who do you think’s on top when your parents are in bed together?”

  She gaped at him. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m fun.” He leaned close. “Wanna see?”

  The temptation to tell everybody to go to hell—her friends, her boss, Richard, her parents and especially her own ego—was irresistible.

  Jared McKenna…well, she didn’t want him to move an inch.

  She pressed her lips directly to the pulse beating fast and strong beneath his ear. Pounding for her. “Why not?”

  * * *

  JARED KNEW HIS IDEA OF FUN—which took place in the game room—caught Victoria off guard.

  He kicked her butt in air hockey and pinball, but she finessed him at pool. Stone-cold nerves. Some might say her personality mimicked her style behind the cue.

  Once, he would have agreed.

  But whether by circumstance, luck or fate, he’d seen a vulnerable side of her. A side he wanted to explore, layer by layer.

  He also found her clever, determined, ambitious and intensely desirable.

  When she again won the match with a sharply banked shot, he leaned against his cue stick and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s it. You have to teach me. I could retire to Monte Carlo with a move like that.”

  Looking more relaxed than he’d seen her during the entire span of their short association, she crooked her finger in his direction. “Come on, big guy.”

  His heart launched into a gallop at the expression on her face, and when he reached her side, all thoughts of pool vaporized. Even though she wasn’t a short woman, she was barefoot, so the top of her head barely reached his chin. Her lithe body made his seem more powerful, and he found himself wrestling with the crazy vision of scooping her into his arms and carrying her off to the nearest bedroom.

  He’d probably get his face smacked, but that didn’t dispel the romantic idea.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  She tilted her head back, her ice-blue eyes full of speculation. “I like that you’re tall.”

  “Do you?”

  “In heels, I tower over most men.”

  “You’re not wearing any now.”

  She glanced down at her feet, wriggling her toes. “So I see. We’ve known each other seven hours, and I’m already part
ly naked.”

  “I’d be happy to help your condition spread.”

  “I thought you wanted to learn pool shots.”

  “I’m willing to trade up.”

  She tapped her cue stick against his. “Let’s see how you do with the game.”

  Jared leaned over the table at her urging. She explained the angles, the subtle power of the stroke, but after several tries, he was still way off the mark. She tried embracing him from behind, but had a hard time reaching around him to get into the necessary position.

  “Maybe I could feel you make the shot,” he suggested.

  The look she sent him was skeptical, to say the least—and rightly so. But she nevertheless leaned over the table so he could tuck in behind her and lay his hands over hers on the cue. The carnal echoes of their position wasn’t lost on Jared, though he tried to seem professional—or at least not as randy as he felt.

  “It’s all about the angles,” she said softly. “And the power behind the stroke.”

  He swallowed around his dusty throat, thinking of something else where angles and stroking were critical.

  Damn, McKenna, be a man, not a teenager.

  A challenge made wildly more difficult when she shifted her stance and her backside brushed his erection. He closed his eyes, his thoughts nowhere near stick and ball sports. She smelled heavenly, a sophisticated and purely female mix of delicate flowers and warm spices. His mouth was so close to the nape of her neck he could have kissed her simply by angling his head.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Your stroke is too hard.”

  Huh? He hadn’t touched her except where she’d told him to. How—

  Right. Pool.

  Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded.

  When she faced frontward again, he prayed for control…and patience. No woman as savvy as Victoria would fail to notice for long his lack of interest in her lesson.

  With her hands beneath his, she guided the stick back, then tapped it against the glossy white cue ball, which jumped and rolled lazily to the side.

  She straightened and turned, narrowing her eyes. “You’re crowding me.”

  “I put my hands exactly where you said.”

  “Then you’re distracting me.”

  He held up his palms. “Sorry.”

  “We’ll try again.”

  Oh, man, do we have to?

  Back in position, this time with her hands on top of his, she said, “This is an easy shot if you practice.”

  “Okay.”

  “Relax.”

  No possible way. “I am. You’re the one who’s tense.”

  “I’m perfectly at ease.”

  To prove her statement, she made the shot. Balls clanged, banked off the side of the table, then the orange five ball dropped into the corner pocket as if drawn by a magnet.

  Finesse and control.

  He wanted her to lose it, lose it all. “Do you get a prize?”

  “Sure.” She faced him. “Kicking your ass at pool is its own reward.”

  He held her by her waist. “Don’t you want a prize?”

  Her gazed tracked down his body. “Depends on what I win.”

  Snagging both sticks, he let them fall to the floor, and cupping her jaw, he angled her face for his kiss.

  His mouth moved over hers with what he hoped was a decent amount of finesse and control. He wanted to ravage, but held the urge under tight restraint. Victoria no doubt expected and received only the best.

  They fit together perfectly, and she responded to his touch without hesitancy or shyness. She caressed his tongue with her own, as committed to learning the taste and feel of him as he was with her. Jared marveled at the realization that he’d expected the weekend to be a relatively ho-hum job, but wound up with an incredibly desirable woman in his arms.

  She leaned back, her gaze focused on his lips. “I thought you were pretty annoying when I first met you.”

  Why that truth didn’t dampen his desire one bit demonstrated how quickly he’d fallen. “And now?”

  She slid her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. “You’re most definitely not.”

  She initiated the next kiss, and he let her set the pace. Clearly, she was a woman used to taking the lead, and he wanted her to know he wasn’t threatened by her doing so.

  In fact, if she wanted to press him against the wall and have her carnal way with him, she could do so all night long.

  When their lips parted, their breathing was choppy, their muscles tense. He was sure she wanted him as he did her. Their urges could be satisfied in a heartbeat. There were beds, chairs, floors and even pool tables all over this massive estate. He could all but feel her slim hips inviting him, her legs wrapped around him, her sighs urging him.

  But uncertainty slid into her eyes as they stared at each other, and the vulnerability he saw cooled his need more than a dunk in an icy mountain river.

  He captured her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. “Let’s sit on the deck.”

  Outside, he settled in a lounge chair, and she tucked herself between his legs, her back resting against his chest. The Atlantic spread before them, endless and mysterious. Waves crashing against the shore soothed the sharpest edge of his desire, reminding him of life’s everlasting cycles.

  As much as he thrived on adrenaline rushes in his job, he’d been raised on waiting. Life in Montana revolved around seasons, even years, not minutes. They waited for seeds to grow and be harvested, for cattle to breed and give birth, for winter to fade and spring to come.

  Inhaling the subtle flower scent of Victoria’s hair, he smiled. He could be patient. Especially since he doubted she was capable of the same.

  “Can we talk about Richard’s safe without spoiling the night?” she asked, looking back at him.

  Richard was absolutely the last thing on Jared’s mind, but she had more on her agenda than lying peacefully in the moonlight. “I guess you’re gonna make his point for him.”

  “That’s what he pays me to do.” She paused, frowning. “Hopefully.”

  “Do you want to promote an inferior system?”

  “Who says it’s inferior?”

  “I found flaws within twenty seconds of hearing the basic details, and what I know about security systems couldn’t fill a paper cup.”

  “There are a variety of sophisticated safeguards with the system. Not only the ones that allow for the owner to wrongly enter the pass code, as you so astutely pointed out. Even plotters of those spy movies you’re so fond of would be impressed.”

  “Yay for technology. But the owner of the company doesn’t know those—call me crazy—vital details?”

  “Richard hires the best techs. He doesn’t have to be one himself.”

  Jared snorted.

  “I suppose your boss knows every aspect of his business, inside and out?” she retorted.

  Since he was the boss, he could answer that one with absolute honesty. “Again call him crazy, but yes.”

  “Why don’t you like him?”

  “My boss?”

  “Richard.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s my potential client,” she said, her tone deadpan. “I’m wild about him.”

  “Fine. Terrific. But don’t trust him.”

  “Why?”

  No way Victoria would accept a vague warning. And while Jared didn’t want to outright trash the guy—though he’d witnessed re
asons to—he didn’t want her pinning her career hopes on Richard’s whims, his business sense or his honor.

  Jared scooped her up and set her across his lap. Her eyes widened as she braced her hands against his shoulders. “What’re you doing? We’re having a serious conversation here.”

  “You’re straining your neck to look at me, and I didn’t want you to move away.”

  “So you’re both considerate and planning to make a move on me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” She looped her arms around his neck. “Conversation first. Move later.”

  He wasn’t known for his fast talking, but he’d figure out a way to correct that flaw. “A couple of years ago, Richard convinced me and some of my friends to invest in a project with him. He talked it up, got a lot of people involved, but when the deal went south, he conveniently got out just before it did.”

  “And you lost everything?”

  “Not everything, but my investment. The others did, too. But good ole Rich bailed and didn’t tell anyone.” Jared stared out at the undulating water. “The money didn’t matter so much.” Remembering he wasn’t supposed to have heaps of cash, he added, “Though it hurt. But I lost my trust in him. I’d worked for him and his family several times and thought we’d become friends.”

  “Not a friendly thing for him to do. Maybe he couldn’t warn everybody in time.”

  Cynical, Jared shook his head. “That’s what he said. Though a ‘get out now’ email would have done the job.”

  “I suppose so. How long have you known each other?”

  “Not long. About three years. The only reason I told you about our history was to warn you not to rely on him.”

  “I don’t trust anybody.”

  “Yeah. I get that. But ambition is seductive.”

  “You think I’m going to compromise myself to gain a client?”

  He shrugged, sensing her temper simmering, and he had plans that included her in a happier mood. “The competition with Peter changes whatever plans you had, and since Richard’s loyalties are limited to himself—and maybe his mother—you should be armed with all the information necessary to adjust your strategy.”