by Helen Conrad
He was joking with her, playing her for the fool again. What did he think she was, some naive school girl who could be seduced with such a feeble line?
She knew he could see the contempt in her eyes. His own glance darkened in response. “It’s been a lonely wait,” he went on, and suddenly she realized that he had moved close to her again without her noticing it. “Sometimes I was afraid I would never find you.”
His hand cupped her cheek, stroking gently, and when she looked into his face, the look she saw there startled her. There was a naked vulnerability there that she wouldn’t have dreamed he would ever expose. Did he really mean all this? She gazed at him in wonder.
No! No!
She fought back the warm feeling that was trying to edge its way into her resistance. What a fool she became whenever this man got near her! Here he was, trying to make her believe that he had been pining away on this island, waiting for her all his life, when anyone could see that he could have any woman he wanted, any time. And probably did.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She pushed his hand away. “I’m not falling for it, Jack. I’m sure half the girls on Lelei are in love with you, and quite a few in Pago Pago as well. Are you going to tell me you’ve passed them all by while you waited for your dream girl?” She glared at him. “Lonely? You don’t know the meaning of the word. You have only to call and half a dozen women would be at your doorstep.” She shot a sharp glance at his veiled expression. “Especially Valima,” she added archly, watching his reaction.
He turned his glittering glance her way. “No,” he said dryly. “Valima is going to marry Karl.”
She held his gaze. “But she’d rather marry you,” she whispered.
Suddenly, he laughed. “You beautiful sea witch,” he said with a sort of offhand affection. “You think you know it all.”
He took her hand again and she felt a throbbing begin in her chest. She should leave. She should get up immediately. If she stayed, she was giving him a signal that could have only one response. She knew all that, and still she sat where she was, feeling the heat of his body as he moved nearer.
He had turned her hand and was looking at her rings. “What are these, Summer?” he asked evenly. “Weapons, or signs of tribute?”
What was he talking about? They were just rings, just something sparkling to put on her fingers. They had no significance whatsoever. “Since you know so much about me,” she shot back, “why don’t you tell me?”
His hand was traveling up the inside of her arm and she just barely stifled the gasp that rose in her throat at the sensation it was stirring.
“I think they’re a line of defense,” he murmured, bending down to press his warm lips to the tender inner bend of her elbow. “If you cram on enough junk jewelry, there will be no room for a wedding ring.” He had turned her arm so that he could run a line of kisses up the inside, alternatingly caressing her incredibly sensitive flesh with his lips, then making tiny circles with his tongue.
This was insanity. She knew she could make it to the door before he caught her. But somehow, she couldn’t move. As she gazed down at his thick, dark hair, she found herself reaching out with her free hand to touch it.
“You’re wrong, you know.”
She was answering his accusation that she was avoiding commitment, but she found she couldn’t conjure up any anger.
“I told you I was ready to marry Karl. I don’t know why you say I’m afraid of marriage.”
He raised his head to grin wolfishly at her. “Marrying Karl would be like staying single. You know that as well as I do.” He lifted the filmy short sleeve of her dress and planted a tiny kiss on her exposed shoulder. “What you’re afraid of is marriage to an equal.”
She snorted in disgust. “Someone like you, I suppose?” The minute the words were out, she wished she could reclaim them. His eyes showed no laughter at all as they held hers. But he didn’t answer her. Instead, he took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him.
“You’re like a gaudy sea anemone, Summer. You sit in your lair as lovely as the most beautiful flower, so desirable that no one can resist you. And when you’ve beguiled your prey with your charm, when he knows he can’t live without you, when he finally finds the courage to come in close, you open up and eat him alive.”
Something about his analogy hit too close to her soul and she had to defend herself. “And what do you think you remind me of?” she countered. “A great white shark, that’s what. You cruise the waters ready to rip apart anything you can find. You have no compassion, no feelings at all.”
Instead of causing offense, the insult seemed to amuse him. His dark eyes were shimmering again. “Do you fear being ripped apart?” he growled close to her ear, his hand moving seductively over the silky fabric that covered her thigh.
He was so close and the warm shadow of his breath against her skin triggered a quiver deep within. She was excited by him, and she knew she liked what she was feeling.
“Do you feel that I’ve eaten you alive?” she whispered back.
“Not yet,” he admitted against her neck. His mouth began a shivering trail of fire down the cord of her throat.
Closing her eyes, she tilted back her chin, letting him explore at will. There was a fevered wildness to the surging of her pulse and she reveled in it. When his hand gently pulled back the neckline of her dress, making way for his warm kisses, she did nothing to stop him.
“You’re so beautiful, Summer,” he rasped huskily, his breath hot upon the satin-smooth skin of her breast. “I could never do anything to rip apart something so exquisite as you.”
Instinctively, she moved toward him. Her body seemed to need to feel more of him, to have the length of him pressed against it, and she reached for him with both hands, sliding her fingers across the thick cloth of his dinner jacket.
“Just a minute,” he murmured, pulling back and shrugging out of the jacket. She reached for him again before he had completed the movement, hungry to feel his flesh under her fingertips. Her hands slid in beneath his shirt and he groaned as they found their way to his chest, feeling for the beat of his heart, tangling in the dark hair.
His mouth was moving in sensuous persuasion against her lips and she felt her arms slide around his neck as though she had no will to guide them. The hands that explored her body slipped softly over the gauze of her dress, leaving a trail of tickling sensation wherever they stopped. But when they found their way beneath the fabric, the tickles flared into licking flames bent on igniting her flesh.
“It’s the law of the sea, Summer,” he rasped against her open mouth. “In a battle between a shark and a sea anemone, the shark will win every time.”
His hard fingertips found the peak of her breast, stroking through the silky cloth until he coaxed the nipple hard. Then he leaned down and bit it gently through the gauzy fabric.
“I need you, Summer,” he groaned against her. “I need to know every bit of your warmth, as deep and as hot as it can be.” His hand slipped down between her legs and stroked her, making her cry out with a hungry urgency as the flame began to burn. Her hips rose. She ached for him.
Slowly, inexorably, he bent her back against the cushions of the couch, until his body was pinning her down, his hips pressing intimately against hers, stoking the fire so carefully set by his caressing fingers.
He needed her. She could feel his arousal, hard and strong. Her passion-fogged mind acknowledged what he said and knew it was true. His desire was nothing new to her. Men always wanted her, needed her.
But there was something different here. This time, she wanted him. That had never happened before, and it terrified her.
Where was her power now? Where was that lovely, safe ascendancy she always had in any relationship? It had evaporated. Her armor had been pierced. She was very nearly at his mercy.
She couldn’t let it happen. If she gave in to him, if she let him in and let him declare her as his, she would be lost. She had to keep fighting.
�
��No,” she whispered against his face as his mouth sought hers again. “No. Stop.”
She had taunted him, told him that she couldn’t be manipulated as easily as the others were. How long ago had that been? Ten minutes before? And here she was, at his mercy. How quickly he had made a mockery of her bravado.
Her body still wanted him, but her mind was drawing away. This was too much, too fast. She’d never been swept away so thoroughly before. And she had almost let him do it.
He pulled back and stared at her, his eyes dark and mysterious. She stared back at him. He was so very attractive, his black hair rumpled and falling over his forehead. A part of her longed to reach for him, to pull him back down and welcome his love. But the terror surged in her again. This was too dangerous. She had to do something to fight it.
“I don’t want to make love with you,” she rasped out breathlessly. “I don’t love you.”
When she said the words, something caught in her throat, but she ignored it. He had become very still, his dark, midnight black eyes pinning her to the couch. She had to convince him,
“I love Karl,” she cried. “I can’t do this with you.”
She knew it was a lie. She had never loved Karl. She had tried to talk herself into loving him because it would have been convenient. But she had never really loved him. And she had certainly never felt the wild, soul wrenching desire for Karl that she felt for this man.
“I love Karl,” she repeated automatically, watching the hardness come down to cover his expression again.
He stared at her for a long moment, and she could feel the cold anger building in him. Then he turned, rose from the couch and made his way to the small bar in the corner of the room. He poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter, tossed it down, and turned back to face her.
“Karl is going to marry Valima,” he stated coldly. “If you try to do anything to stop the marriage, I’ll make sure you are very sorry that you interfered.”
He stood in the shadows, so tall and intimidating. His shirt hung open and she realized with a start that she had torn a button off in her hurry to touch him. She glanced at the darkness of his chest, then looked away. She had to be careful. It would take so little to bring back the magic.
She suddenly realized that she was the odd man out. She had no place to stay. She really didn’t have any reason to be here. What was she going to do?
“I’ll pack and get out,” she said tentatively, but he swung toward her again.
“No!” he said, then caught himself and spoke more quietly. “There’s nowhere for you to go. You’ll have to stay here.”
She shrugged helplessly. “How can I stay?” She searched his stormy eyes. “Why should I stay?” she whispered.
He studied her for a moment, his gaze raking over her. Finally, he gestured impatiently. “You’ve got to finish your father’s book, don’t you?” he said gruffly. “That’ll take some time. Keep the room you’re in. No one else will be needing it.”
She looked down at the grass-matted floor. “No,” she said softly. “I can’t stay here.”
He walked deliberately over to stand before her. The amusement was back in his eyes and his voice was mocking. “Why is that, Summer? Are you afraid you won’t be able to resist me much longer?”
That was exactly what she was afraid of but she would never give him the satisfaction of saying the words out loud. “I can’t stay here,” she repeated stubbornly.
“You can’t stay anywhere else,” he warned her. “I can make sure of that.”
She looked up into his eyes as she rose to stand, adjusting her dress. Then she stopped, caught by something trembling in his gaze. There was something vulnerable there—just for a moment. Her lips parted and he reached for her, but she turned and slipped from the room before he could touch her.
She would stay for the night, but that was all. Jack Masters was much too potent a force to risk encountering day after day. She would have to do something.
But she would think about that in the morning.
Chapter Five
Summer slept fitfully and she was groggy when she heard the early morning knock on her door.
“Come in,” she said, rubbing her eyes, sure it must be one of the servants. Hearing Jack’s voice instead shot her up into sitting position, grabbing the covers to her chest.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her heart already beating hard.
His grin was warm and friendly. “Good morning to you, too, princess,” he said sunnily. “You said you’d like to see a Samoan wedding,” he noted. “So I thought I’d take you.”
She was still too close to sleep to be able to make the change that quickly. Who was this nice man? What had happened to the sexy seducer guy she’d said good night to?
“But…but I thought you… .”
“I changed my mind,” he said, eyes glinting as he took in her sleepy look. “Samoan weddings are a lot of fun. I haven’t been to one in a long time. Let’s go.”
“Uh… .”
“I’ll have someone bring you up something for breakfast, then you can start getting ready. Wear something beautiful. A lot of people are going to be looking you over today.”
“Why?”
He grinned. “Because you’ll be with me. Believe me. They’ll be interested.”
She tried to frown. She would like nothing better than to tell him to go pound sand, that she wasn’t going anywhere with him. Not ever. But… . She wanted to go.
“Meet me down at the dock at nine, sharp,” he said. “We’ll take the Windskimmer.”
“But Jack….” She hesitated.
“Yes?” He looked back, his eyes dark. He waited as she wavered, and if she hadn’t been so groggy, she might have realized he was tense and uneasy, not sure if she was going to agree to come along or not.
“Uh… .” She shook her head, realizing her hair was a tangle. “Jack, what should I wear?”
He smiled with relief. “Something sexy. Let’s blow them away.”
And he was gone.
She fell back against the pillows, mentally yelling at herself. She ought to be heading away from this place just as fast as her feet could fly. Instead, she was finding excuses to stay longer. What was the matter with her? She had to go.
And more than that, she had to figure out how to help Karl get out of this web of deceit Jack had trapped him in. She needed Karl. She needed to marry him. If only he wasn’t such a wimp.
But she couldn’t keep her mind on that problem. Already she was involved in running through her wardrobe, wondering what she could wear that would fit the expectations Jack had laid out. Sexy, huh? She thought she could probably manage that.
Jack had the boat prepared for the trip. He’d checked all the dials, checked the provisions, and he was ready to go. Where the hell was she? He looked at his watch. It wasn’t nine yet. He tried to relax.
He had a new game plan. In fact, it was the first real plan he’d tried to map out. Everything he’d been doing up to now was pure emotional reaction—and it obviously wasn’t working. You couldn’t bully a woman into loving you. Funny—he’d never realized that before.
Getting women to like him had never been a problem. Mostly, they gathered around him like bees to honey. He never had to lift a finger.
But Summer was different. She wanted to be tough and hard and difficult to manage. In fact, she actually thought she ought to be in control. He was going to have to figure out how to deal with that.
Because he wanted her. He’d wanted her for a long time and finally, he was close enough to taste how good she was going to be. He had to have her. He couldn’t screw this up. She was already his--she just didn’t know it yet.
“Hi.”
He looked up. She was here. A glance at his watch told him it was nine on the nose. That made him smile.
He looked again. She was dressed in a yellow strapless sundress that showed a lot of cleavage and set off her beautiful long legs. A woman quite literally to
die for.
“Welcome aboard,” he told her, holding out a hand to help her take the first step. “You look ravishing. But then, I’m sure you know that.”
She flashed him a glare and he frowned, knowing he’d made a mistake on that one. “No sarcasm,” he told himself silently. “No smart ass jokes. Play it straight and from the heart. That’s the only way you’re going to win this round.”
So he restrained himself and only let his fingers linger on her bare back for a few seconds instead of pressing his advantage when he had the chance. Even so, her smooth, silky flesh was intoxicating. He glanced at how pretty she looked in the sundress and then imagined how gorgeous she would look without it. He’d seen that already, hadn’t he? And he wanted to see it again. See it—and so much more. But there was time for that.
He started the engine, and they were off, skimming across the blue-green water, heading for the second day of a three day Samoan wedding.
Summer felt the thrill a ride in a fast boat always gave her. She looked at Jack, standing at the controls, chin tilted toward the wind and she felt something flip in her abdomen, like going over a long fall on a roller coaster. He was so beautiful.
If only it really meant something, she thought with a sudden pang. If only things like love and caring and faithfulness really did follow after physical attraction. But from what she’d seen of the world, not so much.
Usually, she thought of beauty as being a female thing—sort of surface candy, ephemeral and pointless, useful to attract men in the mating ritual, but not especially practical in the real world. What she looked like was just window dressing. It was makeup, “let’s pretend” stuff. Sure, she knew she had it and she used it for all it was worth. But she didn’t particularly respect it. Beauty was easy currency in her world. If you had it, you used it. The real core that mattered was inside—how you dealt with life and its complexities, what you did for others. She knew that. She didn’t often use it, but she knew.
