Summer Days

by Lisa Jackson

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Of course not,” he lied, “but, then, I’m not really in love with you, am I?” To his surprise she paled a little. “Because if I were, make no mistake. I’d be mad as hell—and ready to tear him limb from limb. Whether you know it or not, he was coming on to you.”

  “He was just being friendly.”

  “Ha!”

  “I know when a man is ‘coming on’ to me, Donovan,” she said, thinking with a roiling stomach of her experience at Liddell. Her boss had been coming on to her and strong. Shuddering slightly, she said, “Stewart isn’t interested in me.”

  “Do you really believe that? He was all over you!”

  “He touched my hand, for God’s sake. Big deal!”

  “We’re supposed to be engaged!”

  “I know, I know,” she said, exasperation tinging her cheeks pink. “But I told you he didn’t buy our story.”

  “Then we’ll just have to try to be more convincing, won’t we?” Seeing Stewart touching Valerie, laughing with her, gnawed at him.

  “How?”

  “Let’s start right now!”

  Tugging on her hand, he led her back down the stairs to the main salon. Beth and Regina were watching television, but looked up as Hale and Valerie entered. To Valerie’s horror, Hale plastered a devilish grin to his face and winked at them before half dragging Valerie into his stateroom.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he said loud enough to be overheard. “Let’s move up the wedding day—or at least the wedding night!”

  “What?” she croaked out.

  “I just don’t know if I can wait!” He kicked the door shut with his heel.

  “Have you lost your mind?” she challenged, whirling on him. Eyes bright with fury, she advanced on him.

  “Already gone. The day I signed a contract with you!”

  He dropped her hand, and she reached for the connecting door, only to find it locked—from her side!

  Leaning over a large trunk, he glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “Now you know how it feels!”

  “Is that what this is all about—me locking you out?”

  “ No.”

  “Then it must be that you enjoy humiliating me.”

  “Not humiliating you—but paying you back. And, yes—guilty as charged.”

  “You . . .” She wanted to call him a bastard, but she remembered his reaction before and snapped her mouth shut. “You try another stunt like hauling me in here, and I swear I’ll break the contract with you and tell the Stowells everything!”

  “You’d lose a lot of money,” he reminded her.

  “The satisfaction would be worth it!”

  A small, amused smile played across his lips, and it was all she could do not to slap him.

  She took several deep breaths before saying, “Now if you’re done mortifying me for the evening, I’m going to leave.”

  “Not yet.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because I have something for you.”

  Oh, no, now what? She watched as he pulled a trunk from the corner, snapped open the locks and threw back the lid.

  Valerie gasped as she saw dresses, over a dozen of them, neatly folded away. Green, white, red, blue, every color she could imagine—a veritable rainbow of expensive clothes. “What have you done?”

  “I went shopping—well, actually Madge went shopping.”

  “Madge?”

  “My secretary.”

  “I know who she is. But wait. Let me get this straight,” Valerie whispered, dumbfounded. “Your secretary went shopping for me?”

  “Yes, for you. I’m sure as hell not going to wear them!”

  “Funny. Very funny.”

  He chuckled.

  “You’ve had them since the beginning of the trip and you’re giving them to me now?”

  “If I remember correctly, you weren’t in the mood for gifts,” he reminded her. “I felt lucky that you wore the ring. Now if you’ll go into your room and unlock this damned door, we can put them in your closet.”

  “You’re not serious.” Shaking her head, she forced her eyes away from the gowns and back to his face.

  Signs of impatience strained his features. “Why not?”

  “But I can’t accept these—”

  “Consider it part of your employee benefit package.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts,’ just go unlock the door. And don’t worry about the size, they should all fit.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I checked the labels of your clothes the day before we left San Francisco.”

  Her anger, still simmering, heated to a rapid boil. “You didn’t.” But she knew he had. A man like Donovan wouldn’t leave anything to chance—not even a simple dress size. She remembered him pawing through her suitcase in her apartment. “You had no right—”

  “I had every right. I agreed to pay you to pose as my fiancée, now, come on. There’s only a little time before dinner.”

  “I’m not wearing any of these.”

  “Don’t be so damned proud!”

  “I’ll stop—the minute you stop being so damned overbearing!”

  He laughed then, and a tenderness shone in his eyes. “God, you’re stubborn.”

  She wanted to argue, but she knew that he was right.

  “Look, Valerie, maybe this isn’t all very proper—at least according to your antiquated code of ethics, but bend a little, will you? We don’t exactly have a conventional work arrangement, and I only bought these dresses to save you some embarrassment. I’ve seen how Regina and Stewart look at you. Beth and William, too. Unless you like their pity—”

  “They don’t pity me! And as for Regina, she’s thrilled that I can’t compete with her!”

  Hale clucked his tongue and wagged his head. “Oh, you compete all right,” he said, leaning back on his heels and staring up at her. “And you know what? She always comes up short.”

  Valerie’s throat thickened. Was he really complimenting her? She searched his face and found his eyes, as gray as a Pacific storm, serious and intense. “Then . . . uh . . . I guess I don’t need new clothes.”

  “I want you to have them.”

  “Why?” she wondered aloud, hating the horrid turn of her thoughts but unable to hold her tongue. “Maybe you’re not worried about my embarrassment at all.”

  “No?”

  “Maybe you’re the one who’s ashamed.”

  “Of you?”

  She stared down at him and got lost in those eyes. “It’s just possible you’re embarrassed because I haven’t molded myself into the image you seem to think you need for a wife—a woman who wears fancy gowns, expensive jewels and who doesn’t give a damn about animal rights and has two or three fur coats tucked in her closet!”

  Hale sighed. “You haven’t embarrassed me yet,” he said softly. “And no matter what you may think, I wouldn’t judge you by your taste in clothes or the value of your wardrobe.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” she mocked, hoping to break the tension slowly building between them. “I feel so much better already. Mr. Anything-for-a-buck does have a set of values that he claims isn’t totally controlled by the value of the dollar!”

  Hale shook his head, his dark hair gleaming in the soft light of the cabin. “You know, Valerie, you are without a single doubt the most irritating woman I’ve ever met.”

  “That must be why you chose me,” she tossed back, but could feel her anger fading as quickly as an eagle taking flight.

  “Must be,” he growled.

  Valerie walked through the door to the hall and into her room before she unlocked the connecting door separating their cabins. With a grunt, Hale hauled the trunk into her stateroom and dropped it on her bed. “Wear something special tonight,” he suggested.

  “Any particular reason?”

  He paused at the door and stared at her. “I just want to show you off,” he said, then disappeared. The lock click
ed softly behind him.

  Valerie was left with her heart in her throat. Was he sincere? Or just mocking her again?

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she told herself as she hung up the dresses one by one. Madge, bless her, had exquisite taste. Though Valerie felt more of a fraud than ever, to appease Hale she stepped into a strapless blue dress. With a pinched waist, fitted skirt and sequined bodice, the dress sparkled and shimmered when she walked.

  Valerie couldn’t help the rush of excitement that coursed through her blood. Of course she knew she was being childish—a new dress, or trunkful of them for that matter, didn’t change things. In fact, if she were thinking properly, she’d probably realize that dressing to please Hale was a mistake, one more thread in his web of lies. But she couldn’t resist. For just this one night she wanted to play the part of his bride to be as if she meant it!

  She French-braided her hair, twisting it away from her face, and applied her makeup with more care than usual.

  A soft rap sounded on the connecting door, and Valerie glanced up just as it swung open.

  Hale poked his head into her room, and his eyes turned the color of quicksilver when he saw her. “Madge has great taste,” he murmured.

  “Remind me to thank her when we get back.”

  “I will—believe me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he stuck two fingers into his collar, as if it were suddenly too tight. “I guess I should’ve had the trunk delivered to your room on the first night. Would you have accepted the dresses?”

  “No—”

  “Then I made the right decision.”

  “You knew I’d take them now?”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “Oh, no, Ms. Pryce, I can’t begin to imagine how you’ll react to the things I do.”

  “But you thought you could convince me.”

  “I hoped.”

  She shrugged. “Well, it’s only for one night.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Slightly irritated, she grabbed her clutch purse. “We’re already late for dinner.”

  “Just one more minute.” He ducked back into his room and reappeared with a long, slim jeweler’s case.

  Valerie’s heart nearly stopped. Now what?

  “I think we’d better complete the transition, don’t you?”

  “Transition?”

  “Right. From working girl to—”

  “Don’t say ‘debutante.’ ”

  “I was going to say—”

  “And not ‘princess.’ I can’t stand all that stuff.”

  “From working girl to doted upon fiancée of one of the West Coast’s most eligible bachelors.”

  “That’s worse!” she said, but laughed despite herself.

  “Oh, relax and enjoy yourself,” he chided, opening the case and withdrawing a necklace and bracelet of clear stones.

  “Oh, no, Hale, I couldn’t—”

  “They’re crystals, not diamonds,” he said quickly.

  “Don’t tell me—even you have to budget,” she teased.

  He cocked one dark brow, but didn’t say a word, just looped the necklace around her throat, while she adjusted the bracelet. The crystal beads felt as cool as ice against her skin. With hot fingers he brushed her nape, and a small tingle darted up her spine. As for the necklace, the shimmering glass caught in the soft lights and reflected against her skin. She adjusted the strands, then looked into the mirror to find Hale’s reflection staring back at her.

  The intensity of his gaze seemed to burn through the glass. Valerie’s mouth went cotton dry as her gaze touched his for a pulsing second; then she turned quickly away and fumbled for her purse. What was it about him that made her feel as foolishly naive as a schoolgirl? She was a grown woman, for God’s sake, and though not worldly-wise, she wasn’t as innocent as a child.

  “Valerie.” Behind her, his voice was a whisper, and he clamped his hands over the bare skin of her upper arms. His breath fanned the skin at the base of her skull, and her skin flushed warm. “I just want you to know—”

  Tap. Tap. Tap. “Valerie? You in there? Hans is ready to serve.” It was Stewart’s voice on the other side of the door.

  Startled, Valerie stepped away from Hale, from his intense eyes, warm fingertips and erotic touch.

  She opened the door. Stewart was waiting, drink in hand. He took one slow look at her before letting out a long, low whistle. “Look at you,” he whispered, nearly awestruck, before he caught sight of Hale.

  “We’re on our way,” Hale growled.

  Valerie swallowed a smile. “Be nice, honey,” she reprimanded primly, laying a hand on Hale’s arm and linking her free hand through Stewart’s.

  Hale tensed. He narrowed his eyes, but Valerie pretended not to notice as they entered the dining salon.

  At the sight of Valerie, Regina’s mouth dropped open, but she recovered, motioning to the bar. “Can I get you something?”

  “Nothing for me,” Valerie replied.

  Hale didn’t bother responding, but walked to the bar and splashed a healthy shot of scotch into a tumbler. He felt Regina’s interested gaze on him, knew his knuckles were white around the glass, but didn’t care. His other hand, tucked in the pocket of his slacks, was curled into a fist. The simple fact was that given the least bit of provocation, he’d like to smash that fist into the smug smile glued onto Stewart Stowell’s dimpled chin!

  Jealousy, hot and venomous, swept through him, and a burning possessiveness of Valerie pounded in his temples. You’re a fool, he told himself. Jealousy and this overpowering need to possess were the trademarks of an idiot—the kind of emotion that he’d always scoffed at.

  To his surprise he heard Regina mumble, “Nice dress,” to Valerie. The younger woman looked over the expensive fabric, and the mocking glint so often resting in her eyes was missing.

  “Thanks.” Valerie glanced his way. “It was a gift from Hale.”

  “It’s . . . gorgeous,” Regina admitted, studying the delicate layers.

  “Well, come on now, let’s eat,” Beth said, entering the room in a swirl of peach silk. Her gaze swept the dining salon, landed on Valerie, and she smiled, not saying a word as Hans served scallops in a cream sauce.

  Conversation was lighter tonight. The break in the weather seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. Stewart laughed and joked and flirted outrageously with her, and Valerie enjoyed his seductive glances and remarks. Hale, the consummate actor, played his part of the jealous husband-to-be to the hilt. He grew even more silent and brooding as the salad, soup, and main course followed one after another.

  “So tell me, where did you and Hale meet?” Stewart asked as coffee was served.

  Surprised at the question, Valerie, who had talked her way through dinner, was suddenly tongue-tied. She glanced at Hale for help, but was met with a cold stare. The second their gazes touched, she knew he wasn’t about to help her out. “I—it was a couple of months ago.”

  Regina fingered the gold rope at her neck. “But where? At a party? One of those fund-raising benefits?”

  “No . . .” Valerie glanced pleadingly at Hale, but he just sipped his coffee. Apparently he was going to let her hang them both. Well, damn him, two could play at this game.

  “What then?”

  “Actually, we met when I interviewed for a job at his company.”

  Regina’s mouth rounded into a tiny little “o.”

  Stewart, who had reached for the bottle of wine, hesitated before taking hold of the neck of the bottle.

  And Hale—his cold eyes grew instantly hot.

  “Really?” Stewart asked.

  “Well, that was just the start, of course,” Valerie went blithely on, though she felt Hale touch her leg under the table, warning her not to tread too far. Smiling, she tilted her head to one side and stared innocently at him, though the hand on her leg was positively burning through her skirt. “Since then, well, things have progressed.”

  “Did you hire her?” Stewart asked, amusement flickering across his
face.

  Hale forced a lazy smile. “Not until I convinced her to marry me.”

  William and Beth both chuckled, but Valerie felt as if her throat was welded shut. No sound escaped. The grin Hale sent her was absolutely wicked.

  “Well, that’s a novel proposal,” Regina offered, still thoughtfully rubbing her necklace.

  “To say the least.” Stewart poured himself a generous portion of wine, and Valerie realized in that instant that he was a true snob—shocked that Hale would date anyone who worked for him.

  As they finished their coffee and conversation dwindled, Valerie felt the strain in the room. Though Beth didn’t seem the least concerned, her announcement that she’d applied to work for Hale caused speculative glances from the two younger Stowells.

  Excusing herself before she said anything else that might cause further scrutiny on her engagement to Hale, she hurried upstairs to the deck.

  A stiff breeze blew from the west. Lavender-shaded water stretched to the horizon to meet a pink-tinged sky. A few thin clouds obscured the lowering sun, and to the north lay a group of small islands, green with fir trees.

  Bracing her hands on the rail, Valerie studied the ocean and watched a sea gull circle and dip. The first week was nearly over, she thought to herself. All she had to do now was just hang in there. Some of the rigging groaned in the wind, and as always, the throb of the engines hummed in the coming night.

  She didn’t know Hale had joined her until she noticed a large male hand gripping the rail not an inch from her fingers. Glancing up, she saw the tight line of Hale’s jaw, the compressed anger in the white brackets surrounding his mouth. “Why the hell did you spout off about meeting me in an interview?” he growled.

  “You could have fielded that question yourself,” she reminded him. “But oh, no, you weren’t interested, were you?”

  “I was interested all right—interested in why my fiancée was throwing herself at another man.”