She let him take her hand again, gave it to him, in fact, and they ran together the rest of the way down the sand.
They were standing calf-deep in surf when he kissed her. She was laughing, wet from the hips down, her good black dress dripping saltwater. He turned to her suddenly and took her face in his hands.
It was a pure, bright shock to feel his lips, to discover the intense pleasure of his mouth kneading hers, to taste the salt at the corners of his mouth and the sweet warmth of his tongue. She smelled his breath as it flowed into her, filled her up, left her weak and gasping. She raised her hands instinctively, circling his neck with her arms. He pulled her closer, pressing her body tightly against his; his hands left her face to cradle her back.
When he finally released her, she gazed up at him dizzily. She’d never been kissed that way, had never even imagined that a kiss could feel so glorious. It was only when he chuckled that she came to herself.
“Why did you do that?” She tried to muster an indignant tone.
“I think that’s pretty obvious.”
“Not to me.” She backed away from him.
“Oh, I think it was obvious to you too. We’ve both been anticipating that kiss for the past hour.”
She shook her head, took another step backward, and then gasped as a large wave broke behind her, splashing water over her breasts and nearly toppling her into the sea. He was beside her instantly, grasping her around the waist and hauling her toward the shore, but she jerked away from him and ran up onto the beach, aware only of being soaked and humiliated. She searched frantically for her panty hose. She couldn’t believe that she’d actually taken them off.
She heard his laugh behind her. “ ‘After the kiss comes the impulse to throttle.’ Come on, Chelsea, relax. We’ll go do that planning if you want.”
She spun to face him. “The deal’s off. I can’t work with you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m breaking the agreement. Strawberry Lace isn’t going to handle your party arrangements.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can. Just watch me.” She spotted her panty hose and started after them, her feet pumping the soft sand like pistons in a hot-wired car.
His hand clamped onto her shoulder. “You signed a contract.” His fingers dug into her muscles, forcing her to turn. “You’re legally bound.”
She gaped up at him for several seconds before she found the right words. “I’m not going to work for you, Jeff Blaine. Not even if you send one of your million-dollar lawyers after me. I’ll go to jail first.”
His hand dropped away, leaving Chelsea free to march up the slope to the big stone mansion alone. She slipped into her heels and went inside, where she found refuge in the lady’s room, which she was relieved to find boasted a pay phone. She put in a call to Lori and asked her to come pick her up right away.
“You’re making a big mistake,” Lori said. “Not to mention, you’re hurting the business.”
“Just come,” was all Chelsea said.
Chapter Ten
When Lori pulled up to the side entrance of the Seacroft Inn twenty minutes later, Chelsea darted through the glass doors and scrambled into the car.
“Don’t ask,” she said as Lori frowned at her balled panty hose and wet dress. “Just drive.”
Lori obediently sped down the long drive and pulled onto the highway before she started complaining. “You call me up and tell me you need to be picked up, that the Winter deal is off, and I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut? You’re going to have to explain exactly what happened.”
“It’s very simple. I blew it. I misread his signals.”
“Whose signals? Blew what? You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m afraid the surprise party deal is off. I cancelled it.”
“You what?” Lori gave her a horrified scowl. “You’d better explain exactly what happened, from the beginning.”
Chelsea sighed and sagged back in her seat. “Jeff Blaine called me up this morning and said he wanted to discuss the party menu over breakfast at the Seacroft. So, like an idiot, I agreed.”
“How does that make you an idiot? It sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“He never had any intention of planning the party. He just wanted to add me to his list of conquests.”
“Conquests? What on earth are you talking about?”
“He kissed me, that’s what I’m talking about.”
“Is that a crime?”
“Lori! He’s a client, for God’s sake!”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Everything!” Chelsea twisted to face her sister. “It’s an employer-employee relationship, Lori. That makes it sexual harassment. Anyway, I’m engaged to Stuart, remember?”
“Only too well.” Lori gave her an anxious look. “Are you saying that Jeff attacked you?”
“Not exactly.” Chelsea looked out her side window.
“Good. I was beginning to wonder if I’d totally lost my ability to judge character. To tell you the truth, Jeff strikes me as a very sensitive, considerate man. It’s very hard for me to imagine him forcing himself on anyone.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, you’re right, I don’t. And I think it’s a crime to ruin Strawberry Lace’s prospects because of one innocent kiss.”
“It wasn’t innocent!”
“Whatever. I think you’d better find a way to get that job back. Immediately.”
Chelsea scowled darkly. “What exactly am I supposed to do? Call Jeff up and apologize? He was the one who created the problem!”
“I don’t care what you do.” Lori’s voice was tight. “Just so long as you get the job back.”
Chelsea spent the rest of the morning in a white rage. She wanted to smash everything in her apartment, break the china, shred the clothes in her closet with her bare hands, go downstairs and throw Strawberry Lace’s pots and pans all around the kitchen. And what made her doubly furious was that Lori was right. She had no right to break the contract just because Jeff had kissed her. When she was honest with herself, she knew it hadn’t been sexual harassment at all; she’d wanted that kiss as much as he had. Maybe more. The reason she’d reacted so violently didn’t have anything to do with harassment. It had to do with fear, fear of her own feelings, which had been spinning out of control ever since she met him.
She forced herself to sit down with a cup of coffee and try to figure out how to handle the situation. One thing was very, very clear: she couldn’t let this kind of thing happen again. For one thing, she was seriously committed to Stuart. She’d promised to marry him, and that certainly meant she couldn’t go around kissing other men. For another, she’d seen what happened to Holly. Even if she hadn’t been engaged to Stuart, she still couldn’t allow herself to respond to Jeff Blaine. She wouldn’t risk getting emotionally involved with Muriel Winter’s son, no matter how strongly she was attracted to him. Somehow, she had to get her hormones under control and deal with the situation maturely and rationally. She must find a way to get the job back, while making it clear to Jeff that she was unavailable.
She was pouring herself a second cup of coffee when the idea jumped into her mind. It was so simple she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. All she had to do was tell Stuart she’d changed her mind about an engagement ring. She’d give him a call and, with what was left of her morning, they could go into Portland to select a ring. Then, in the afternoon, she’d contact Jeff. It would be painful to humble herself and apologize, but it couldn’t be helped. Sometimes you had to walk through fire to get where you wanted to go. She’d make sure to mention her engagement, to show him the ring. She knew, from his initial reaction to her reference to Stuart the day they met, that he would be careful to keep his distance.
She was congratulating herself on her ingenuity when the phone rang. Her heart rebelliously skipped a beat when she picked it up and heard Jeff’s voice, but she managed to ign
ore the instant surge of desire that swept through her.
“Chelsea? Are you okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned. “You had me really worried. I couldn’t find you.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Jeff. I know I was rude. I didn’t—”
“Save it. It was my fault. I came on too fast and it frightened you. I apologize.”
She was at a momentary loss for words. This wasn’t the nonchalant, assertive Jeff she recognized. She tried to think what to say next. Get the job back, she reminded herself. That’s all that matters. “Jeff, I didn’t mean it about breaking the contract. I can’t imagine what I was thinking. Strawberry Lace will be happy to cater the party.”
There was a long silence. When he spoke, his voice was low. “I’ve been having second thoughts of my own. I think it would be best to cancel the contract by mutual agreement.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t think we can develop a working relationship. Things are too volatile between us.”
Chelsea felt a cold space open in the center of her body. “I know I was unprofessional, but—”
“It isn’t you, Chelsea. It’s me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think maybe you do,” he said quietly. “Look, I have your planning notebooks. I’ll drop them by later today. Will you be in?”
“Yes, I have to work on a wedding menu.” She could feel tears building at the base of her throat. “Jeff, is there any chance you’ll reconsider? Could we at least talk about it?”
“We can always talk.” His voice was gentle. “But it would be unfair to encourage you. I think the situation’s pretty self-evident.”
It occurred to her, as she dropped the phone receiver back into its cradle, that Jeff had just admitted that he was as upset by their relationship as she was. Apparently, the lesson Muriel Winter had taught her youngest son hadn’t been lost on her oldest.
She was sitting at the desk in the shop reception room, working out the exact number of racks of lamb for the wedding luncheon, when Jeff came in. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt and was carrying the notebooks under his arm. He regarded her gravely as he set them on the counter.
“You wanted to talk?”
She ordered her stomach to stop fluttering and smiled up at him. “Yes, thanks for coming. Sit down.” She indicated the love seat opposite the desk. She wished she’d spent some time planning what she was going to say instead of burying her anxiety in menu organization, because he seemed to be waiting for her to open the conversation. She cleared her throat. “I’m hoping we can work things out, Jeff . . . ” She paused, tried again. “You see, what happened . . . on the beach . . . was something neither of us wanted . . .”
The trace of a smile touched his mouth. “That’s not true.”
“Well, it wasn’t advisable, under the circumstances.”
He nodded.
“And anyway . . .” She balled her fists in her lap, grateful for the bulk of the desk, which hid them from Jeff’s penetrating gaze. “Anyway, I promise to try and be a lot more professional in the future.”
“Professionalism isn’t the problem. I told you that on the phone.” He slid forward to brace his forearms on his knees. “The fact is, I’m very strongly attracted to you. And that’s not appropriate in a client-buyer relationship.”
“But we can be careful. We can just concentrate on the arrangements.”
He shook his head. “Whenever I’m with you, any thought of menus or party arrangements just goes right out of my mind. I want to take you places, show you things, make you laugh, kiss you until you can’t stand up.”
Her eyes widened. She felt a flush climb her cheeks.
“I think the only answer is to cancel the contract, which will leave us free to see each other without any confusing complications.”
“See each other? You’re saying you want to go out with me?”
“Exactly.”
She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. Her insides were doing their usual nervous dance at his proximity. “I can’t,” she said hoarsely.
“Of course you can. We both know that what happened on the beach this morning wasn’t accidental. It was inevitable. Frankly, I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. The chemistry between us is extraordinary.”
She couldn’t believe he was saying these things; she’d never heard a man talk so bluntly about his feelings. It aroused her, opened something inside her, made her want to admit that she agreed with him. For a long, vulnerable moment she was even tempted to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she placed her hands on the desk and forced her mouth into a polite smile.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. You see, I’m engaged.”
Chelsea saw his grin and realized, with a little shock, that he didn’t believe her. It was her own fault, she supposed; she’d used Stuart as an initial barrier between them the first day they met, then recanted her involvement. It had been for the sake of the business then too. But now she had to convince him she was telling the truth. It wasn’t just for Strawberry Lace this time, but for her own emotional protection.
“I really am. It happened just a couple of days ago. I haven’t got the ring yet.”
He straightened his shoulders, slid back into the love seat. “Who’s the lucky man?”
“Stuart Potter. You wouldn’t know him. He’s a local fisherman.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“We haven’t set a date.”
“Well. Congratulations.” He slapped his palms on his knees and stood up. “I guess I’m the one with egg on my face this time. I apologize for my conduct, both this morning and just now.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s my fault. I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes, you should have.” His eyes were penetrating.
She felt her cheeks flush again in instant, unsettling response. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll get over it.” He started for the door.
“Wait.” She got up and went after him. “This clears things up, doesn’t it? There’s no reason now that we can’t work on the party together.”
He turned and frowned down at her. “It seems to me it complicates them. Your engagement doesn’t change the chemistry between us; it just makes any further association more explosive. I think it’s best if we conclude our business relationship.”
“Jeff, please! There must be some way Strawberry Lace can keep the contract! I don’t want to beg you, but we really need this job.”
He gazed at her a long time before he spoke. “I’ll consider it. On the condition that your sister is present at all the meetings.”
“My sister? Of course. But she tires easily now; is it really necessary for her to be at all of them?”
“Yes, it is. Because if it’s just you and me, the temptation to kiss you again will be too overwhelming to resist.” He gave her a breathtaking smile, spun on his heel and left the shop before she could say another word.
It took Chelsea almost an hour to convince Lori to attend the planning meetings with Jeff Blaine.
“You got Strawberry Lace into this mess,” Lori said. “You ought to find a way of getting us out that doesn’t involve me. I’ve got a husband to take care of and a baby on the way. We can’t afford the luxury of duplicating our efforts.”
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry? So it’s my fault; this is the only way he’ll agree to maintain the contract.”
Finally, Lori gave in. “Just don’t say I never did you any favors, Chels. You owe me a big one.”
“I know, I know. I promise to make it up to you. I’ll babysit for free every Saturday night when the baby comes.”
“Don’t think I won’t hold you to it. When’s our first meeting?”
“As soon as possible. I’ll call Jeff right away and get back to you.”
She wasn’t able to reach Jeff, but she left a message with Beth Harmon and sent up a small prayer th
at he’d call her back before the day was out. Every hour meant precious time lost that could have been used for party preparation.
She called Stuart and complained for a while about how heavy her schedule was getting. She didn’t mention her unsettling encounter with Jeff; the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Stuart. And there was no good reason to tell him; it wasn’t as if the kiss really meant anything. She recalled her decision to ask for an engagement ring. “I hope you don’t think I’m awful, changing my mind about it,” she told him. “The more I thought about it, though, the more I wanted one.”
“That’s great,” he said. “We can go into Portland tomorrow afternoon and pick one out.”
“I’ll choose something simple, I promise. I know you’re strapped for cash right now.”
“No problem,” Stuart said cheerfully. “And I’m glad you changed your mind. I like the idea of the whole world knowing you belong to me.”
“Me too,” she said softly.
After she hung up, she worked on the table settings for Saturday’s wedding and went over the menu one last time. Things seemed in pretty good order. She’d double-checked the arrangements with the florist and the tent-rental people; verified once again that the bride and groom wanted to use their own table service; the band had been booked for months. As long as the weather cooperated, the reception should come off without a hitch. She was checking her book of price lists when Jeff called.
“I’ve talked to my sister, and she’s agreed to attend all the meetings,” Chelsea told him in her best professional tone. “So when would you like the first conference?”
“I’m free tomorrow until noon.” His voice sounded remote.
“Would it be convenient for you to come here at ten? Or would you prefer it if we came up to the house?”
“Since it’s a surprise party, I think I should come there.”
“Fine. I’ll have everything ready.” For some reason, she didn’t want to hang up. “Jeff?”
Strawberry Lace Page 10
