by Diana Palmer
“Wonderful!” Mr. Dean chuckled. “We’ll find some lazy projects to keep you relaxed.”
“I’ll fatten you up,” Mrs. Dean seconded, giving him a critical glance. “You look undernourished.”
Elissa could have laughed. He might look trim, but he was very muscular under his shirt. She flushed, wondering what her parents would say if she confessed that she’d watched him swim in the nude from her cottage window. She forced a smile and finished her iced tea while her mother asked about his work. He replied that he was in oil and gas. It didn’t dawn on Elissa until much later how her mother had interpreted that remark.
“To think, a handsome man like that working in a garage,” Mrs. Dean sighed as she made supper.
“What?” Elissa asked sharply.
“Well, he’s in oil and gas,” she explained patiently, “and despite the nice-looking suit he’s wearing, which he might have borrowed, I think his watch and ring are only copies of expensive ones. He’s trying to impress us, darling, to show us that he’d be a good catch for you. I’m very flattered. I like him. So does your father. And there’s nothing wrong with working in a garage. His parents probably own it, you know, and that’s probably their home in Jamaica. They must just let him use it.”
Boy, had her mother gotten it wrong. But Elissa bit her tongue. This was better. They didn’t need to know how rich King really was; it might inhibit them. She liked their response to him, and his to them. She couldn’t bear to spoil it. She’d tell them later, after King was gone.
Her eyes closed. Despite her trepidations, it was marvelous to have him in her home, to savor being with him away from Bess’s influence. She was in heaven. Even if he stayed only overnight, she’d love the house forever afterward, because she’d see him in every nook and cranny of it. And if he married Bess, well, her dreams wouldn’t harm the two of them very much.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER SUPPER, KING and Elissa went for a stroll along the beach. It was very much like Jamaica at night, the whitecaps rolling onto the beach with a foamy whisper.
“You don’t mind that I’m here, do you?” he asked casually.
“No.” She had changed into shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, and she was enjoying the feeling of the cool white sand on her bare feet. She tossed back her long hair and sighed, drinking in the peacefulness of the setting.
He was still wearing his slacks, but he’d unbuttoned his shirt halfway down and was wearing thongs instead of shoes. He looked very casual, not at all the elegant millionaire he really was.
“I didn’t know you’d been raised a Baptist,” she commented, turning her eyes seaward.
He glanced at her. “And I didn’t know that you had Seminole blood.”
She smiled. “I’ve got a little Irish, too, and a trace of German.”
“I’ve got some Irish myself.” He stopped her, gesturing toward a hermit crab diving into a hole in a small sandy bank. “I had one of those for a pet once. They’re cute.”
“With those claws?” she groaned.
“Claw, woman,” he chided. “Well, one big one and one much smaller one. They don’t pinch that hard.”
“You wouldn’t feel it with hands the size of yours, I guess.”
He slid his hands into his pockets, stretching the expensive fabric of his slacks against the powerful muscles of his legs as he walked. “I like it here,” he said lazily. “I like your parents, too. I can see now why you’re such an independent little cuss. They’re very open and honest.”
She laughed softly, enjoying his company and the cool breeze and the solitude. “You’d really think so if you’d heard what my mother said about you.”
He stopped, looking down at her. “What did she say?” he asked with interest.
“She says that you’re very handsome to work in a garage, which your parents must own, and that that’s their villa in Jamaica. They just let you use it. Your watch and ring are copies of the real thing, to impress them. Oh, and you probably borrowed that expensive suit you’re wearing.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he began to laugh, but not in a sarcastic or mocking way. It sounded like pure delight. “They think I’m a grease monkey?”
“You told them you were in gas and oil,” she reminded him. “My parents don’t know any oil magnates but they know a lot of mechanics.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he mused. “I think I like that. Yes, I think I do. I haven’t been treated like a normal human being in my adult life. At least not since I hit it big.”
“You have so,” she retorted. “Do I treat you like a big fish?”
He pursed his firm lips, then smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming in the pale light of the half moon. “Not really,” he admitted. “That was one of the things I liked best about you. After I realized that you weren’t chasing after me because I was rich,” he added.
The cynicism in his voice touched her. “Did you really think that’s why I kept hounding you?” She laughed. “How surprising.”
“Women had chased me for years,” he replied. “Once or twice I let myself be caught, but mostly I didn’t give a damn for that kind of woman. It didn’t take me long to learn that you weren’t the least bit interested in my bank account. Then,” he added with a wicked glance as he started walking again, “I decided it was my body you wanted.”
“How conceited,” she remarked airily.
“If you remember, I made one very subtle pass at you, right at the beginning,” he said. “And you backed away with a look in your eyes I’ll never forget. I didn’t understand why you shied away from me. I thought you’d had some bad experience and were afraid of men. That made me even more protective, and I gave up any ideas of seducing you.”
“Until a few days ago,” she muttered.
His head jerked toward her. “Don’t put all the blame on me, honey. You were giving as good as you got in my bed that night.”
She was glad the darkness hid her blush. She stiffened a little as she shuffled along the beach beside him, oblivious now to the clamoring surf. Her legs were getting cold, but she didn’t want to suggest that they go inside. Every second she could spend alone with him was a delight, even if it had to be spent in the middle of an argument.
“Thank you for that sterling assessment of my morals,” she said lightly, forcing back a surge of fury. “I suppose that makes me what men call an easy—King!”
He jerked her around none too gently and shook her by both arms. “No, it doesn’t make you easy,” he said, his voice cold and curt. “Stop trying to make yourself sound cheap.”
“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do?” she asked, hating the slight wobble in her voice.
His lean fingers tightened on her arms, exciting and strong through the flimsy sleeves of her oversize shirt. “I don’t know what I’m trying to do,” he said surprisingly. His hands relaxed, became caressing. He breathed slowly, deliberately, and drew her into his arms. He wrapped her against his taut body, enveloping her in his spicy cologne and his warmth, and laid his cheek on her dark hair.
It was, she thought suddenly, as if he needed comforting. And perhaps he did. He didn’t say a lot about his feelings for Bess, but she was sure that he was confused and wounded by what was happening. He was willing to sacrifice his own happiness to keep from hurting Bess and Bobby, so he’d subdue what he felt for Bess or ignore it if he could. But with the woman tempting him and, as he’d said, with his being only human, perhaps he did need comforting. And at the moment, Elissa was his anchor, his safety net, his life jacket. She didn’t mind; it was enough to do what she could to help him through a difficult time. Love made you vulnerable. She knew, loving him as she did.
She slid her arms around his hard waist and pressed her cheek over his heart, enjoying the heavy, measured beat of it in the darkness. “We all want things that we can’t have, from time to time,” she began soft
ly. “Like me, living a fantasy. I’d give so much to be like those women in the nighttime soap operas who have their fun and never have to suffer for it. But I’m too much of a coward to try it. I’d always worry about consequences and about hurting other people.” She closed her eyes, breathing him in. “I always felt so free with you. I could tease, and you never took me seriously. I could try my wings, I could fly, without any danger of falling.”
“Until one night you flew too close to the flame and singed your pretty wings,” he murmured drily. “Were you shocked?”
“Oh, yes,” she confessed. “I didn’t expect it, you see. And I didn’t realize how vulnerable I might be.”
“I did,” he replied. His arms tightened. “We were both holding back for different reasons, bottling up our passions. Inevitably, it was going to get away from us one day. It just happened to be with each other. And I’m damned glad about that,” he added curtly. “Another man might have taken advantage of it and seduced you for real.”
She colored softly. “I can’t imagine letting any other man do those things to me,” she said honestly.
He actually shuddered. “Don’t say things like that. I’m more vulnerable than you realize.”
“Because she’s gone.”
He paused for an instant, and when his voice finally came, it was cold and measured. “Yes. Because she’s gone. I did warn you that anything I did to you would be out of desire for her. Didn’t you hear me?”
“I was too busy kissing you.” She laughed gently.
He laughed, too, despite himself. “Imp,” he muttered, tightening his arms and then loosening them to step away from her and look down into her quiet eyes. “You seemed to like kissing me.”
She tossed back her head, living the dream all over again. “You have a nice mouth. Very slow, very experienced.”
“Yours isn’t bad, either,” he murmured, dropping his eyes to it. He touched her cheek and traced her lips with his thumbs. “I’m sorry we’re so close to the house. We could strip and go swimming.”
“My father would let Ludwig eat you,” she said with a laugh.
He sighed. “It was just a thought. I’d give a lot to see you out of your clothes, pretty thing.”
That was embarrassing and a little exciting, all at once. “Well, you haven’t missed much,” she said.
“Not from the waist up, anyway,” he agreed too readily, and laughed at her shocked little gasp. “God, you’re sweet to tease. I’d forgotten that women could be shocked. Women in my set tend to be pretty blasé about sex.”
“Probably because there isn’t a lot they don’t know about it.” She tried to step back, but he caught her long hair and held her there in front of him.
“You’re nervous of me,” he murmured. “Why should you be? You could always scream for help.”
“Yes, I know.” She tugged at his hand. “I don’t want to stand in for Bess, King.”
“You told me that in the beginning. I haven’t forgotten.” He hesitated for a minute before he reluctantly let her go. “You sound positive enough about it.”
His voice gave nothing away, but she thought he sounded a bit irritated. She tossed her hair and laughed up at him. “How would you feel if I kissed you and pretended you were some sexy man I wanted?”
His blood surged. “I’d break your sweet neck,” he said without a second’s hesitation.
She laughed even louder. “You see? Tit for tat, big man.”
He made a swipe at her behind, and she barely sidestepped in time.
“If you hit me,” she threatened, “I’ll tell my daddy.”
“Go ahead,” he challenged. “I dare you.”
“You ought to be shaking in your shoes,” she replied. “He’s got friends in high places.”
He got her meaning and grinned, all his bad temper gone. “You know, I laugh more with you than I’ve ever laughed in my life,” he remarked as they wandered back down the beach toward the brightly lit cottage.
“I don’t think you even knew how to laugh at the beginning,” she recalled. “You were a little frightening. All business and cold as ice.”
“Cold on the outside,” he said softly. “Never on the inside.”
That was a blatant insinuation, and she ignored it. “Are you and Dad going fishing tomorrow?”
“Yes, we are.” He glanced her way. “Are you coming with us?”
“I’d like to, but I’ve got to get in touch with Angel Mahoney and tell her I’m going to need another week on those new designs. Angel is vice president of the Seawear collection, and she bought my designs for the chain of boutiques Seawear owns. I thought they were too strange for anyone,” she confessed, “but Angel thought they were deliciously outrageous and very salable. And she was right. I’m making all kinds of money these days.”
“It doesn’t show,” he said abruptly with a speaking glance at what she was wearing.
She lifted a haughty eyebrow. “I wouldn’t waste my exquisite wardrobe on a mere friend,” she informed him.
His dark eyes narrowed. “Is that all I am?”
“It’s all I’m going to let you be,” she said gently, looking away from him. “Would you like—”
“Why?” He was behind her in the shadow of the house, his hands around her waist pulling her back against his tautly muscled body.
“You know why,” she ground out. The warmth of those hands was driving her wild.
“I can’t have Bess,” he whispered in her ear, drawing her even closer, “but I can have you. You can have me.”
She trembled and closed her eyes as the tempting pictures rambled shamelessly in her mind. She gritted her teeth, because there was only one possible answer to the blatant seduction in his voice. “No.”
“Tell me you aren’t tempted, Elissa,” he dared.
She pulled away from him, taking a few seconds to get her composure back. “How about some coffee?”
He hesitated at the back door, then sighed and gave in. He didn’t understand himself lately. Elissa was suddenly in his blood, and he wanted her out. He hoped he wouldn’t one day lose control with her. The thought frightened him a little. Yet he seemed to totally forget Bess when he touched Elissa. That was somehow frightening, too.
He followed her inside, his face thoughtful, to find her parents waiting to join them around the coffeepot. He smiled at them, relieved to find something to keep his mind occupied. It was having a field day with memories of Elissa, her dress disheveled and pushed down to her waist.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, King and Elissa’s father set off before daylight. By the time Elissa and her mother were up, the men were long gone. Tina fixed a small breakfast for them and then set about her housework, while Elissa went down to the beach for a swim. Afterward, she set to work on her designs with a fierce determination to work off her frustrations on paper.
It worked, too; she came up with some totally new looks, very innovative and sexy and cool. She took a break for lunch and some lazy conversation with her mother, and then went back down to the beach, a flowered patio skirt over her one-piece black bathing suit, and stretched out on her towel to scribble some more.
The sun kept going in and out of the clouds. She closed her eyes with a sigh as it began to cool down, and she was almost asleep when a shadow fell over her.
She opened her eyes to King’s dark face, his eyes narrow and speculative where the skirt had fallen away from her long, tanned legs. Her bodice had slipped because of the shoulder straps, almost baring one breast.
“Sexy as hell,” he murmured, and there was irritation in his voice. “You look like a beached mermaid, and you’d better thank your lucky stars your parents are within earshot.”
“Oh, promises, promises,” she laughed drowsily, only half taking him seriously. She stretched, and his jaw tightened.
He un
buttoned his shirt, watching her the whole time, seeing how her attention suddenly became riveted on the hair-covered muscles he was revealing. When he stripped it off, her eyes widened on his torso, and he felt a surge of desire so strong that it almost knocked him to his knees. She liked looking at him. She was too inexperienced to hide her own longing, and the sight of it made him all too vulnerable to his own hungers.
“I thought I might go for a swim,” he said huskily as his hand went to his belt.
Her lips parted. “You...can’t,” she began, thinking of her parents.
“I’m wearing trunks,” he said. He unhitched the belt and slowly moved the zipper down. She was breathing quickly by the time he finally peeled the jeans down his long legs and discarded them, along with his sneakers.
“Why did you do that?” she asked in a strange, high-pitched tone when he turned to her.
“I like the way you look at me when I’m undressing,” he said quietly, meeting her hesitant gaze. There was no mockery in his eyes, no teasing. He moved closer, looking down at her for a long instant before he caught one of her hands in his and put it against his chest. The hard muscles surged against it as he breathed, feeling the soft, silent searching of her cool fingers against his heated skin.
“My...my father?” she whispered, glancing down the beach.
“He’s cleaning fish,” he replied, searching her eyes. “Your mother is cooking.”
“Oh.”
He eased down alongside her, deftly unbuttoning her skirt. He pushed it aside, baring the smooth, exquisite lines of her body in the bathing suit. His hand went to the shoulder strap that was already almost off. He traced it down the fastening under her arm and, holding her shocked eyes, unhooked it.
“You mustn’t, King,” she said shakily. She caught his wrist, but it didn’t even slow him down. He stared at her bodice, peeling it aside with steady, strong fingers, his thumb blatantly caressing her swelling breast and making her jerk with a sudden spasm of pleasure.
