by Joanne Rock
Words escaped her, however, and her mouth was too dry to talk, so she settled for a nod before she hurried to the stairs and went below deck.
She really needed to get herself together before she went another round with him. She might be older and wiser than she’d been four years ago, but obviously he was, too.
The man’s physical chemistry had only grown more potent. She wouldn’t have thought such a thing was possible. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be back in his bed in no time.
3
FINISHED WITH HIS MEAL, Jack topped off Alicia’s wine and then settled into his high-backed club chair, unable to take his eyes off her as she enjoyed the food.
Vicenza’s dockside restaurant was quiet tonight, with a handful of seafaring refugees taking shelter from a hard rain. Other than that, patrons were scarce. Which was just fine with him. Their conversation had been private in a corner looking out over Marina Bay, the boats bobbing in the water just beyond the glass. Keith’s big gas guzzler was on a slip farther away, banished to a mooring by itself.
But at least they’d made it to port before the worst of the rain came. They were warm and dry inside, while a Spanish guitarist serenaded the handful of guests with Paganini. The guy was seriously good. Yet it wasn’t just the music, or the food, or the fire crackling in the oversize hearth in the middle of the room that made Jack happy. Nope. His contentment came from sitting with Alicia, who wore a simple navy blue dress, as she savored the last of her spaghetti alle vongole—that really did it for him.
“I can’t stop eating,” she explained when she caught him staring at her. “It’s so good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He pushed his empty plate aside and wished he didn’t have to bring up the subject of her bed-and-breakfast yet, since it seemed like a touchy subject for her. He’d rather simply take pleasure in her company. Her enjoyment of the meal.
But they’d be in Bar Harbor in another couple days if they made good time. He couldn’t afford to postpone the conversation if it meant she’d move three hundred miles away.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now,” she said, putting down her fork, “stop.”
“Excuse me?” He sat forward in his chair, remembering he needed to stay on his toes with her.
“You heard me.” She all but pointed an accusing finger at him. “You get this crinkle right here…?.” She reached across the table to sketch a finger down the center of his forehead. “I know whenever you have that furrow it bodes no good for me.”
“And you’re basing that on…what? Dating experiences from four years ago?”
“That, along with new evidence I’ve gathered. For instance, when you discovered I was sleeping in your bed—” she pointed to her forehead “—crinkle. Then, when you decided I hadn’t looked into the logistics of running a bed-and-breakfast far from home—bam.” Again she flashed her finger to her forehead.
“Funny you mention that, because I think you’d find a lot of success on the Cape—”
“Jack?” She cut him off. “Unless there’s some hidden plumbing problem or obvious damage to the place that I couldn’t see in the photos, I’m buying that inn and moving to Bar Harbor. End of story.”
He shook his head. “But you asked for my input on the move. How come you won’t listen to any advice now?”
“I wanted advice on how to run a successful inn in Bar Harbor, not a barrage of reasons why you think I’m going to fail.” She peered out over the stormy water, thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not a college kid anymore, Jack. You can’t dictate how my future unfolds now that you’re not a part of it. Besides, I’ve fought too hard against my father’s and my brother’s efforts to manage my life to simply roll over when someone tells me to. I make my own decisions.”
There was nothing feisty about it. No challenge. No threat. She remained utterly matter-of-fact. Which made him realize how seriously she took this choice. She planned to make tracks away from the Cape and start over somewhere else—somewhere far from…him.
The news rocked Jack. Up until now, he’d thought she was just having an adventure—dreaming big, maybe gathering ideas for a far-off someday. But she wasn’t at the dreamer stage of her life anymore. She’d matured. Changed. Become a woman with plans and goals that didn’t have squat to do with him.
If he was going to have any shot at another chance with her, he’d need to act fast.
“You’re right.” He nodded slowly. “I’m sure you’ve given this a lot of thought. But I can’t help notice the timing of the move—me returning home and you lighting out of town before I even had the chance to look you up. Should I take that personally?”
She shifted in her seat, leaning back to regard him curiously. “You wouldn’t have had any reason to look me up and you know it. We were through in no uncertain terms four years ago, and as much as it hurt, I did recover.”
Seeing her again, wanting her again, made him wonder if he had recovered. It had been easier to tell himself the breakup was the right move when he’d had the distance of half a world between them.
“I would have hunted you down sooner or later.” He’d be kidding himself to think anything else. His brother had only hastened the inevitable by setting them up for this trip together.
Their eyes met. Held. This time, it wasn’t just about physical attraction. A wealth of memories—good and bad—flowed in like high tide.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” a perky waitress in black slacks and a white tuxedo shirt prompted, hands ready to clear their plates.
The interruption broke the moment. Alicia shook her head, straightening in her chair as the waitress tidied the table. After a brief debate over splitting the bill that made him grind his teeth, Jack paid and escorted his traveling companion to the door.
They stood in the foyer as rain pounded on the low tin roof of the porch add-on that served as extra summer seating. He could still hear strains of the Spanish guitar and a few laughs from the kitchen where the extra wait-staff milled around on a night with few customers.
“Did you want to try sleeping on the boat in this weather, or would you rather look for a hotel nearby?” He’d spent enough time on the water that a few waves wouldn’t bother him, but he wasn’t sure what her tolerance was.
The only time they’d weathered a storm together while boating, they had pulled into a sandy cove and passed the time making love in the rain.
“I’ll be fine on the boat.” Alicia tucked her purse under her arm to prepare for the sprint to the dock where they’d tied the craft.
“I can move the boat away from the slip once we get on board so we’re not bumping the pier all night. It shouldn’t be bad if we anchor farther out.” Sliding off his jacket, he gave it to her. “You can use this to keep dry.”
She shook her head. “I’ll just run fast.”
Reaching for the door, she headed out into the storm. Even before they left the shelter of the overhang, the rain was hitting the ground with such force it splashed water on their feet. Not wanting to argue with her, Jack tucked her under his arm and held the jacket over them both like a tent.
“Be careful!” He pointed to the wet surface below their feet. “The planks turn slick in the rain.”
When she didn’t seem inclined to argue, he relaxed enough to let himself enjoy the feel of her at his side. She fit perfectly, her head tipped against his chest. The curve of her hip was a natural spot to put his hand.
The downpour pattered loud white noise, confining their world to the square foot of space under the stretch of silk-lined Italian wool. When they reached the spot where the pier connected to the concrete walkway, a huge puddle loomed, so he lifted her a few inches off the ground and carried her over it.
“Put me down!” she protested automatically, although he noticed her lip curled at the prospect of landing in the miniature pond he waded through to reach the dock.
“Don’t knock the chivalry, Ally. I could have gone caveman with the carry.” He would rather
draw her closer and press her body full-frontal to his instead of hitching her up against his hip.
Still, the contact lifted her enough that her breast molded to the side of his chest, the soft warmth a welcome bonus for his trouble.
When he set her on her feet on the other side of the puddle, she sprinted out from under his jacket like a runner off the blocks.
Damn it.
He broke into a run to follow, stuffing his coat under one arm. Annoyed, he started to call out a warning about the planks when she slowed down to grab a stainless steel rail on the stern above the swim platform of the catamaran. Gracefully, she stepped aboard, seemingly oblivious to the driving deluge. Already her blond hair was drenched to a dripping light brown. Her soaked blue dress cleaved to her body like a second skin.
Reminding him all over again of that storm they’d waited out on a beach off the Cape. She’d looked just like that in her wet T-shirt and jean shorts, her string bikini showing through the top until he’d ditched that and everything else to be inside her…?.
“What are you thinking?” She was studying his face, he realized, watching him intently as he came aboard.
Perhaps some of his thoughts showed in his expression.
“You mean you can’t tell from reading the crinkles?” He made an offhanded gesture to his forehead, then started untying the boat from the dock.
“No.” She shoved her purse under the covering at the helm and stepped out onto the foredeck to pull in the bolsters that protected the boat from rubbing up against the slip. “I can’t remember seeing that expression before. But it’s been four years. You were bound to add to your repertoire.”
She wanted to know what he’d been thinking? Well, he was inclined to share. Especially since she was moving three hundred miles away from him. Why not put it all on the line during this trip, so she could at least see how badly he still wanted her?
It might not make any difference to her decision. And it probably shouldn’t, since they’d been like oil and water even at the best of times. But they’d ended on such a crappy note four years ago. Maybe this time together could heal the mistakes he’d made with her back then, and allow them both to move on without bitterness and unresolved feelings.
Of course, that could be one giant rationalization to touch her again.
“I was thinking about the last time you and I were out on the water together in a storm.” He tucked away the rope that he’d pulled in from the mooring.
Standing, he moved closer as one of the bumpers slipped from her grip and fell back into the bay with a splash.
He bent to retrieve it, her tanned legs within tempting reach. She didn’t move, eyeing him as he stood, the two of them closer than they’d been since the night before.
When he’d kissed her.
“It was a lot hotter that day,” Alicia reminded him, tearing her gaze away from his to peer up at the sky. “I don’t think it would be wise to get naked in this kind of weather.”
Just hearing her say the word naked was a turn-on. Then again, everything about her juiced him up.
“Although we do have a built-in hot tub to take the chill off.” He pointed toward the absurd little whirlpool tucked into the foredeck of Keith’s cushy watercraft.
As much as he’d like to pull her against him and remind her how fun it would be to tangle limbs for a while, Jack sidestepped around her to finish untying the boat. No pressure. Judging from the way she’d moved against him in bed last night, she remembered well enough what it could be like between them. It was just a matter of getting her to see that they could indulge that attraction without all the heartache of the last time.
Pleasure only. Pure and simple.
ALICIA COULD TELL she wasn’t dealing with the same old Jack Murphy anymore.
The man she knew would have reminded her in vivid detail of that last time they’d been together in the rain. He wouldn’t have stopped the trip down memory lane until she was panting and begging for more. She had every faith he could accomplish this even without kissing her—his fingers were incredibly talented.
In fact, she’d had visions of him walking his fingertips up her bare leg moments ago when he’d fished the bumper out of the water. But he’d moved along like the consummate gentleman, leading her to wonder what had become of the man she once knew. Shades of the old take-charge and I-know-what’s-best Jack were still visible in the way he’d tried to discourage her from the Bar Harbor project—right down to investing in a bed-and-breakfast on the Cape for her.
But he hadn’t tried to touch her all day—even though he’d obviously been thinking about it—which revealed an intriguing level of restraint he hadn’t possessed in the past. Heck, she wasn’t sure if she had enough restraint to keep her hands to herself for two more days at sea.
Now, heedless of the rain, she remained above deck with him as he freed the boat and pushed away from the dock. Firing up the engine, he maneuvered carefully to avoid the next pier over, but the slip he’d taken was isolated enough to make quick work of it.
She watched the depth finder as he motored slowly away from the harbor. At twenty-six feet, he let the anchor out, pulling against it with the engine to ensure it set properly.
“Did the navy teach you anything about boats you didn’t already know?” she asked once he cut the motor.
Tucked under the hardtop covering the helm, they were protected from the worst of the rain but not the cool air. She shivered in her wet dress.
“Only the kinds with weapons.” He flipped off a few other switches, dimming the ambient light from the instrument panel. He left a white light on so other boats could see them, but the mist over the water dimmed the brightness to a dull glow.
When nothing more seemed to be forthcoming about his time in the service—a time that remained a mystery to her—she couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment.
“Hopefully, we won’t need to take any evasive maneuvers in Marina Bay.”
“I’ll keep you safe, Ally.” Jack’s green eyes were serious, his stare inciting a warmth that made her shiver.
He must have noticed, because he gestured toward the stairs leading below deck. “You can shower first. You must be cold.”
“A little.” She rubbed the soaked arms of her simple dress. “But you mentioned a hot tub?” She peered meaningfully toward the covered circle in the foredeck. “I know you must think that’s ridiculously frivolous on a boat, but when in Rome…”
“…do as my heathen brother does,” he finished, a disparaging note in his voice. But she gathered it was directed toward Keith and not her.
“I’ll make sure the water’s hot for you,” he said.
Grateful he hadn’t made her feel completely hedonistic, she headed for the stairs, eager to immerse herself in bubbles. Normally, she wasn’t a bubbles kind of woman, but this hadn’t been a normal sort of day.
“I’ll grab a towel.” She could always put it under the hardtop so it stayed dry.
Padding down the stairs out of the rain, she pulled off her shoes and set them aside. Good thing she’d brought a bathing suit, even though she’d never guessed the boat would have such an amenity. After rifling through her suitcase, she pulled on the tankini top and the boy-shorts bottoms, one of her more frivolous suits. For water sports, she favored straightforward racing tanks. But the tankini was a little more showy. It was dark out, but for good measure, she wrapped the towel around her like a robe.
No sense having Jack misconstrue her motives for the hot-tub dip.
Hurrying back up the stairs, she spied him out on the foredeck, leaning over the uncovered tub. He’d turned a light on inside it so the whirlpool looked like a frothy white cauldron bubbling away in the middle of the boat, bathing him in a soft glow as he checked the gauges.
Rain plastered his dress shirt to his back, the fabric all but transparent, delineating every muscle and striation of his back and shoulders. He’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms sprinkled with dark hair. His profi
le had a fallen-angel appeal in the white light, his strong features softened by that dimple at the center of his squared chin. He had another dimple when he grinned, but it was fickle, making rare appearances in one cheek when something genuinely amused him.
Seeing him there, looking as if he’d just emerged from the sea, reminded her of what he’d said earlier—about the last time they’d been out on a boat during a storm. That day had been electric, burned into her memory in perfect detail like an elaborate tattoo. Their hunger for each other had been bottomless, the need strong and driving, just like his thrusts as he’d locked her legs around his waist…?.
Yikes.
She blinked away the image to focus on the present. And promptly encountered a new dilemma as she hid under the hardtop at the helm. If she left her towel here to stay dry, she’d have to dash out onto the foredeck in her bathing suit. And with Jack leaning over the edge of the small pool, she’d feel uncomfortable prancing around half-dressed.
Practicality won over modesty; she tossed the towel on the captain’s chair and darted out onto the deck. Alicia had a brief glimpse of Jack’s eyes on her as she dropped down into the pool with a quick splash. That green gaze simmered hotter than the water burbling all around her.
“Ahh.” She settled into one of the built-in seats, resting her head against the bolster. “That feels amazing.”
The cool rain no longer bothered her as it spattered harmlessly into the hundred-degree water. The tub was deep but narrow. Thankfully, the churning bubbles from the jets hid her body from sight.
“Looks amazing, too.” Jack stared at her as he reached into a box behind him and pulled out a longneck. “You want one?”
“What else have you got?” A few minutes ago she wouldn’t have thought a cold drink would sound appealing, but she’d be toasty in no time now.
With the stars spilling out overhead and the rich dark of the bay spattered with the occasional navigation lights of a passing craft farther out on the horizon, the night loomed glittering and beautiful.
