Don't Tempt Me

by Julie Ortolon

  Except, the diary entry didn't stop with Jack swooping Marguerite into his arms. He'd carried her to the bed and they'd made love with a passion that left them both breathless. Afterward, as they lay in each other's arms, he'd asked her to come away with him. Telling him no had nearly killed her. When he pushed her for a reason, she couldn't tell him the whole truth, that she knew Henri would hunt them down and drag her home to beat her. Instead, she'd reminded him of everything he'd just said, about wanting to clear his name. Her running away with him would tarnish his reputation further when word spread that Captain Kingsley had stolen a man's wife. And when people learned whose wife, the scandal would be even worse.

  As a respected and powerful icon in the shipping world, Henri would use his power to destroy Jack Kingsley. She loved Jack too deeply to ask him to sacrifice so much for her.

  Added to that was a tiny seed of doubt. Henri had been very convincing about his devotion before they had married. What if Jack were no different and was wooing her for his own gain? After all the times she'd been used, she couldn't bear it if someone she cared for so desperately used her as well. She'd rather live in her current misery with the possibility that he did truly love her as he claimed, than risk everything and learn it was a lie. Such a devastation would destroy her.

  So she held firm to her refusal to leave Henri, begging Jack to please not waste the night fighting with her. He'd been angry at first, but she'd drawn him back into her arms, kissing him until they once again were making love.

  Afterward, he'd asked her about the necklace she always wore. She told him the story of her birth and how the necklace had once belonged to Jean Lafitte. Then she asked him if the rumors about him were true, that he'd inherited Lafitte's missing treasure from his grandfather.

  He'd laughed and told her yes, he had the treasure and he kept it in his cabin to remind him of all the things he didn't want to be. His words confirmed in her mind that she'd made the right choice. Clearing his name meant too much to him for her to ruin his opportunity.

  She had taken off the necklace she'd worn every day of her life and given it to him. For luck, she'd told him, and to keep him safe. He'd nearly wept at her words. Clutching the necklace, he had vowed that he'd keep it with Lafitte's treasure as a further reminder to be a better man. Perhaps then, when he'd proved himself worthy, she'd leave Henri to be with him.

  Reading the words, Jackie reached up and found a tear trailing down her cheek. The moisture on her fingertips startled her. She never cried. But the weight pressing against her chest made every breath a struggle.

  Marguerite had poured out her own grief and doubt, but through her words Jackie saw Jack's side with such blinding clarity, she wanted to scream at the woman. Marguerite clearly hadn't realize the depth of Jack's insecurity. He thought her rejection came from her not thinking he was good enough. The diaries showed Jackie that nothing could have been further from the truth, but she knew too keenly how Jack felt, swaggering through life pretending the scorn of others didn't matter when inside he withered with shame. Yes, he'd revealed some of that to Marguerite, but until a person walked in those shoes ---or jackboots in this case ---they couldn't truly understand.

  Jackie did, though, and understanding made her see their relationship had been doomed from the beginning.

  She started to turn back to the diary, wanting to read further, but noticed the time. Her mood lifted abruptly as she remembered Adrian's news. The excavation was actually going to happen! Which meant she didn't have to leave Pearl Island with her tail between her legs. She could do the cruises, keep seeing the St. Claires, even be part of the wonderful, almost magical energy that surround them. Even if she could only be a peripheral part of their world, it was cause for celebration indeed.

  Scrambling out of bed, she washed her face and dressed for dinner. She was already at the bottom of the stairs to the apartment before she remembered the kiss. The second Adrian looked up and his gaze collided with hers, it all came flooding back.

  "Hi." She fidgeted.

  "Hi." He looked equally uncertain as he stood in the kitchen, a place he normally commanded with ease.

  Before she could make a fool of herself by saying "About that kiss, can we hit rewind, then forward in slow motion so I can really enjoy it?" she noticed Rory sitting at a computer desk in the corner of the living area.

  "Jackie, great, you're here." Rory waved for her to come closer. "I've been working up ideas for cruise packages and want to run them by you before the others get here."

  "Hang on," Adrian said, drawing her attention back to him. "Care for some wine?"

  His steady gaze told her his offer was about more than wine. "I, uh ..."

  "Let me get you a glass."

  Wary, she moved around the bar into the kitchen, not knowing what to expect Surely he wouldn't try to kiss her again with his sister sitting right there. A quick glance told her Rory's full attention was on the computer screen.

  "About upstairs ..." he said in a hushed voice.

  She looked up into his eyes and realized how close he stood. If he wanted to kiss her again, he wouldn't have to lean forward very far. A delicious shiver through her.

  "You know, the um ..." He visibly struggled for the right words.

  Just act normal, she told herself, fighting the memory of how hot and moist his lips had tasted. "Are you by chance referring to that brotherly peck?"

  He relaxed. "Exactly. Brotherly peck. I just wanted to be sure you didn't think ..."

  "That you want my body?" She cocked a brow, fighting the desire to grab his head and pull his mouth down to hers. "We already know that you do. But we also know you ain't gettin' it, so the kiss didn't mean a thing. Right?" She nearly kicked herself for the tiny note of hope that had crept into her voice at the end.

  "Right." He nodded. Then a frown line formed between his brows, as if he didn't know whether to be mad or relieved. "I was just checking."

  "Well, it's not a problem." She smiled. "Although if you try it again, be prepared for a knee to the groin."

  "I'll keep that in mind." He handed her a glass of wine. "Friends? For real this time. I mean it."

  "Friends." She toasted him, wondering how long he'd last this time.

  Chapter 12

  To Jackie's amazement, Adrian behaved himself completely for the next two days. Even as she met with him and the others to make plans for the cruises, he didn't let one suggestive phrase slip ---not even when he walked her out to her truck the morning she left. He just reminded her to save him a cabin on the first half of the first cruise.

  What a rip, she thought as she drove down the coast to Corpus Christi. She knew she should be relieved, but at some point she'd started to enjoy the game. Wasn't that just like a man, to change the rules right when she was learning how to play?

  In the weeks that followed, she alternated between disappointment and frustration every time she talked to him on the phone, which she did quite a bit since their plans were going full speed ahead.

  They'd settled on the week of Valentine's Day for the first cruise, which would give them time to promote it. The package would include a romantic dinner at the inn followed by live music and dancing in the ballroom on the third floor. For March they'd do a Mardi Gras cruise, then a luau on the beach in April.

  The extravagance of the ideas left Jackie a bit dazed, but excited. She started to let herself believe, albeit cautiously, that teaming up with the Pearl Island Inn would lead her to that ever-elusive dream of financial stability.

  Throughout the holiday season, she worked closely with Rory and Chance as they put together promotional packets for travel agents and prepared for an advertising campaign, all of which was going to cost a small fortune. Every time Rory blithely tossed out expense figures, Jackie struggled not to gasp and sputter.

  Did the woman even know the word "caution?"

  Fortunately, halfway through January, in the midst of sanding and varnishing the woodwork in the passenger cabins, surroun
ded by her hardworking, sweaty crew, Jackie's mobile phone rang with their first booking for the Valentine's cruise. She exchanged a high five with Ti, then headed for the officers' lounge near the stern of the ship for enough privacy and quiet to call the inn.

  Rory answered, but passed her on to Adrian so she could share the good news. Pots and pans banged in the background and she pictured him moving around the kitchen with the phone between his shoulder and ear. After she told him about the booking, he brought her up to date on the plans for the excavation. The permits had been approved and a tentative starting date of mid-February had been set.

  "So, with luck," he said, "you'll be here for the big event."

  And so would Carl Ryder. "Oh. That will be ... great."

  "Okay," he sighed. "Now what are you worrying about?"

  "Who says I'm worrying?" She circled between the battered wooden trunk strewn with sailing magazines and the L-shaped, padded benches that served as a sofa.

  "I can hear it in your voice. Besides, you worry about everything."

  "A habit formed by past experience."

  "You forget," Adrian said. "We have Marguerite's good luck on our side. Everything is going to be fine. So, stop it, okay?"

  "I'll try." Her stomach relaxed a bit at his admonishment. "And Adrian ... thanks. You're a good friend."

  "Yeah, that's what all the women say."

  Laughing, she turned off the phone. Maybe this platonic thing would work after all. And why not? She was used to being friends with men. Lord knew she spent enough time around them. And Adrian struck her as one of those men who had lots of female friends.

  Yes, the man was amazingly sexy, but during the last two months, with only his voice on the phone and no visuals to distract her, she'd realized his most attractive qualities were his intelligence, humor, and generosity. He had a way of making a woman feel good about herself and life in general. What woman wouldn't forgo the temporary thrill of sex for a chance to have a long-term friend like that? Especially since her choices seemed to be one or the other. Adrian had given her no indication that he wanted to try for a permanent romantic relationship, so giving in to temptation would be foolhardy. Right?

  Absolutely, she told herself.

  Another part of her sighed, I bet Adrian does temporary lust really well.

  ~ ~ ~

  Finally, the day of the Valentine's cruise arrived. Jackie's stomach fluttered as she mounted the stairs to the quarterdeck. She assured herself her nervousness was due to the cruise. The rapid beat of her heart had nothing to do with the fact that Adrian would show up any minute.

  She checked with Ti on the readiness of the ship and crew, then turned to watch passengers board. A jittery stomach was perfectly normal, considering all she had riding on this venture. She'd sunk what little savings she had left into finishing the cabins and hiring the extra hands needed to sail the ship for a four-day cruise.

  Thumbing an antacid into her mouth, she surveyed the main deck where the bartender and galley hands were passing out mimosas to excited couples. The February sun played peekaboo behind the clouds, but the tropical music coming over the loudspeakers went a long way toward setting a festive mood.

  The St. Claires' idea had been to provide a taste of fantasy and a trip back through time, its theme being a pirate ship sailing the Caribbean Sea. To that end, Jackie had ordered traditional sailor's garb for the galley crew: pullover tops with broad, horizontal stripes and three-quarter-length pants. Her own outfit was a big-sleeved shirt with black leggings tucked into boots. She'd cinched her waist with a bright red sash but left off the jacket due to the blessedly warm weather. For added effect, she'd thrust an antique dagger in the sash and wore two gold hoop earrings.

  As for the professional sailors on board, she'd given them free rein to put together whatever old-world attire they wanted, which was the only way she could get most of them to dress up. Even though hard-core sailors frequently saw themselves as throwbacks to an age when seafaring men endured months of grueling labor, then blew off steam by indulging in liquor, prostitutes, and knife fights, they resisted catering to tourists. Despite their condescending attitude, she noticed that once they donned their costumes, they took to their roles with relish. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the antics of two crewmen as they swung from the rigging like Errol Flynn, delighting the passengers.

  The rumble of a Harley cut through the music and laughter on deck. She strode to the rail and saw Adrian half riding, half walking the motorcycle down the pier, drawing the eyes of fishermen and day sailors along the crowded wharf. He wore his hair back in its customary ponytail and his leather jacket hung open to reveal a torso-hugging turtleneck. His faded jeans stretched tautly over his thighs.

  Oh man, she nearly groaned aloud at the sight of him. How could she have forgotten just how unbearably gorgeous he was? And she couldn't even gawk openly, like the women in the sailboat across the pier.

  When he reached her ship, he looked first at the men in the rigging, then lowered his gaze to her. "Were you about to set sail without me?"

  As if, she thought. "Actually, we have one more van-load of passengers coming from the airport, so you're just in time to join the pre-cruise party."

  "Party? I'll be right there." He grabbed the saddlebags off the back of his bike and headed up the ramp. She asked Ti to be sure the motorcycle was loaded into the hold, then went to meet Adrian at the top of the gangway. He stepped onto the crowded deck and looked around, taking in the festivities. "Boy, you weren't kidding."

  Though noon had yet to arrive, several of the passengers had clearly had more than one mimosa and were dancing to the music or waving to people on the dock. A tarp provided shelter from the weather for the bar area near the foredeck. The crew had also set up a buffet of fruit and finger sandwiches.

  "Great job," Adrian said. "This is perfect."

  "Actually, this is the easy part. We're used to having parties on board. Things will get more interesting once we set sail."

  "What do you mean? You leave port all the time."

  "Not for four days at a stretch." Jackie snagged a glass from a passing tray and handed it to him. "Oh well, for better or worse, welcome aboard."

  Laughing, he took the glass. "Maybe you should have one of these, to settle your nerves."

  "Don't tempt me." She pressed a hand to her stomach.

  Speaking of tempting ... Adrian let his gaze drift over her as he took a sip of mimosa. During the past months, he'd managed to convince himself that he could be around Jackie without wanting her naked. Wrong. Talking on the phone with a couple hundred miles between them did not compare to having her right before him looking like a vision from one of his kinkier fantasies: the one that involved her tying him to her bed in the captain's cabin. Thank God her chest was squished flat under that big-sleeved shirt, or he'd have a hard time not jumping her on the spot.

  "So." She looked around. "You want me to show you to your cabin?"

  I'd rather see yours. He shook off the thought and he ordered himself to keep it friendly. "That would be great. The day's warmed up since I left the inn, and I'd like to get out of this turtleneck."

  "Okay, then, follow me."

  Handing his drink to a waiter, he hitched the saddlebags over his shoulder. "You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this, especially after the winter we've had."

  "Oh?" she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder."I got the impression you were having a good winter."

  "Good, but busy." They wove their way through the clutter of coiled lines, then around a mast toward the housing over the main hatch. "Between Galveston's annual Dickens on the Strand, Christmas, then New Year's, we've been booked solid. Things slowed down in January, but with Allison gone on her honeymoon, I've had to pitch in cleaning rooms and doing an endless amount of laundry. Do you have any idea how many sheets and towels we go through in a day?"

  "I have a feeling I'm about to find out." She started down the wooden steps, bend
ing forward slightly. The tail of her shirt rose up, giving him a perfect view of her firm, round backside. "Mind your head," she said.

  He smacked into the top of the hatch. "Ouch!"

  She turned and laughed up at him, the sunlight sparkling in her hazel eyes. "Now you know why men who took to the sailing life back in the old days were usually on the short side."

  "Either that or hunchbacked." Rubbing his head, he ducked enough to make it down the steps.

  "This is the galley, where you'll take your meals with the crew and other passengers. Just be forewarned, we do our best but the food isn't as good as what you serve at the inn."

  "As long as I don't have to cook, it'll be great."

  "Officers' quarters are aft." She pointed to a passageway across from them. "The crew sleeps on the level below us, and passengers' cabins are this way." She started down the passageway that led toward the bow. "I'm afraid your cabin isn't our best, but the trip sold so well, it's the biggest one I could spare."

  "I'm hardly going to complain about the response being so good."

  "Me, either. It's just ..." Her hands moved in a restless gesture, as she stopped at the first door on the right. "After you gave me your best room, I know I should have done the same, but ... truth be told, my expenses are through the roof, and I flat-out couldn't afford to give my nicest cabin to a nonpaying passenger."

  "Jackie" ---he grinned at her ---"it's not a problem."

  "Yes, well, here we are." She opened the door and stepped back so he could enter.

  He had to turn his shoulders to get through the opening, but the room itself wasn't that bad. He dropped his bags on the narrow bunk and noted the storage drawers underneath, a miniature desk and mirror along one wall, a small closet. Everywhere he looked, varnished wood and brass gleamed.

  "The head's through here." She closed the cabin door, then maneuvered past him, filling his nostrils with the tropical scent of her shampoo as she opened a door that was even narrower than the first.