She told him, and he seemed interested. He'd vacationed in Paris last year, so she related several anecdotes about her experiences there. They were laughing together when they heard the approach of the Marsh Mallow.
In a few minutes Chad was striding up the path followed by a workman carrying a toolbox: the appliance repair man. Chad waved briefly and took the man inside the Manse. He reappeared shortly carrying his own glass of tea, sat down in the chair opposite Paige and grinned at her the way he had during her first days on St. Albans, before the physical side of their relationship had veered out of control.
"How do you like the new boat?" he asked.
"Uh, nice," she hedged.
Chad eyed her closely. "That doesn't sound like wholehearted approval. I don't think you're going to miss the old Marsh Mallow, are you?
"Of course not." She wouldn't say anything more than that in front of their visitor.
Lee sensed the strained atmosphere and tried to make light of it by changing the subject. Chad sat, his eyes on Paige, not contributing or responding to Lee's efforts to include him. When the repair man emerged from the Manse, Chad excused himself and went inside for a conference with him.
"Do you get over to the mainland often?" Lee asked.
Paige shook her head. "I haven't been off St. Albans since I arrived," she confessed, just now realizing it. "It's so lovely here that I—"
"Nonsense," said Lee briskly. "I agree that St. Albans is beautiful, but you need to get out once in a while. Let's have dinner tonight. I'll come back after work, pick you up in my boat, and we'll find a good restaurant."
"Well—" she began.
"Don't make me twist your arm. And I should tell you that I'm a very good arm-twister."
Paige laughed. She was drawn to his genial manner, and he impressed her as an old-school southern gentleman like the ones her aunts kept introducing to her when she visited in the summers. "All right, then. What time shall I be ready?"
"About half-past seven. Dress casually."
They were interrupted by Chad and the repair man, who spoke to them briefly and went on down the path toward the dock.
"It was a minor problem with the range, something wrong with the burner," Chad explained. "Come on, Lee, I'll drop him off in Brunswick with you."
Lee rose to leave, and Paige walked them both to the dock. The three men climbed into the new boat and cast off. Before Chad, who was at the wheel, turned toward Brunswick, Lee called out, "See you later, Paige." He lifted a hand in farewell.
Chad sent her a quick searching glance and then examined Lee's expression. But when neither Lee nor Paige made any further comment, Chad tightened his lips and squinted into the sun, turning the boat in a spume of spray that glittered like so many falling diamonds. Paige One sped away with swiftness unmatched by the poor old Marsh Mallow even in its early days.
Casual dress, Lee had said, so after a shower Paige leafed through her closet until she found a full-skirted dress in cool Indian cotton. Thinking about the effect of the wind in her hair during the boat ride from St. Albans, she wound a cobalt blue scarf around her head for a turban effect. Gold seashell earrings completed the look. She went out on the veranda outside her room to listen for the sound of Lee's boat.
She didn't hear Chad walking up behind her. His hands on her shoulders, slowly turning her to face him, were the first indication that he had returned from his boat trip to Brunswick.
He spoke tersely, clipping his words short. "You have a date with Lee tonight." It was a statement, not a question.
Paige nodded, staring up at him, suddenly tongue-tied.
His eyebrows knit together, his gaze piercing the thin veneer of her composure. Could he read her mind? Did he know that she didn't want to go out with Lee, had accepted his invitation only to escape the tension between the two of them?
For a moment she felt the ache of desire that Chad's lovemaking had inspired, and she knew then that she didn't need his kisses or his caresses in order to desire him. All it took was a look from him, the blaze of his eyes on her face.
He spoke quietly, but his words carried weight. "You know I'm fond of you, Paige."
"Fond of me?" She was so amazed by his words that she could only repeat them.
"Yes. As in like. As in caring. But this communion of spirit you're looking for has me confused. I'm waiting for you to tell me when you feel it. With me, I mean."
Paige swallowed before she spoke, but then she raised her chin and looked him in the eye. Her words spilled out, one on top of the other. "What I'm looking for is love and openness between two people, and yes, caring. But it's also trust, Chad. Trust. Think about that."
With a sickening thud her mind fell back to the Sea House today when she had found the envelope that tied Chad to her aunts' financial dealings. How could she trust him as long as she didn't know who he was, what he was doing here? Especially when he didn't seem over-anxious to reveal anything about himself.
"Anything else?" He was looking at her strangely, and his voice was tinged with irony.
"Yes, there. How did you buy that boat, Chad? And in my aunts' name, too? And who gave you permission to name the boat Paige One?" Her voice sounded tight and strained. She found herself willing Chad to give her a reasonable explanation for the purchase of the boat. She wanted her unresolved questions answered, and she wanted, more desperately than ever, to be able to believe in him.
"As for naming the boat after you, I thought you'd be pleased. Aunt Sophie and Aunt Biz will think that the name is highly original. And—and naming the boat Paige One has a special meaning for me, one that you couldn't possibly understand at the moment."
"You're taking too much into your own hands around here. Something isn't right."
Chad sighed and walked a few steps away before turning to face her. "Paige, it's all perfectly legal. The important thing is that Aunt Sophie and Aunt Biz have a decent boat. That old scow of theirs could barely make it to the private dock on St. Simons, which isn't even that far."
"I agree that the Marsh Mallow is awful. But if you spent their money for a boat without their knowledge—and I can't believe they knew anything about a new boat when they left St. Albans—how did you do it? By whose authority?"
"They didn't know they were getting a new boat when they left here, that's true. They'll be delighted with it, don't you think?"
"Yes, but—"
"Don't worry about your aunts' money. Everything's under control."
"But whose control?" retorted Paige unhappily. Her eyes searched his face for the least bit of reassurance, but his expression was stony and impassive. Whatever his thoughts were, there was no way of reading them.
Chad didn't answer, and the air between them vibrated with unvoiced thoughts.
Paige turned on her heel and walked back into the Manse, her sandals clicking across the hardwood floor. They were at an impasse, and there was nothing more to be said. If she were going to find out what was happening here, it apparently wouldn't be from Chad Smith.
The drone of an approaching motorboat heralded Lee's arrival. Paige walked swiftly down to the dock to meet him. The exchange with Chad had unnerved her, and all she wanted was to get away from him. Away from him and St. Albans and the worry about her aunts' affairs that was threatening to become constant.
After a quick boat journey to Lee's house on St. Simons, Lee suggested dinner at a restaurant on the ocean. It was dimly lit and informal with high wide plate-glass windows. The server led them to a corner table beneath an unusual fiber wall hanging knotted in blue and green swirls depicting the movement of ocean waves. It seemed to represent the confusion of her thoughts, the swirling of unknown motives, and Paige tried not to look at it.
After they ordered, Lee leaned across the table.
"So tell me more about yourself," he prompted. "You work for an airline, you travel to Paris. That's the sum total of my knowledge about you."
Paige smiled. "And what else would you like to know?"
>
"Spare time pursuits, favorite foods, colors, flowers, and how you happened to come to St. Albans. After that, we can move on to—"
"Wait a minute!" protested Paige. "You're getting ahead of me. In my spare time I read or sketch or design and work needlepoint. I like Chinese food and French food and plain old southern cooking, my favorite color is green in any shade, and I'm wild about daffodils. And I came to St. Albans to visit my aunts, because when I heard about—" and then she bit her lip, unwilling to reveal too much.
"When you heard about what?"
Despite her urge to confide her fears to someone, anyone, Paige decided for now that it would be best to keep her own counsel. "I—I was concerned when I learned that they'd arranged for Chad to live on the island with them," she said carefully.
"Oh, I see. You were afraid that your charming aunts might be in need of more help than they would admit, so you decided to come and see how well they were really getting along. Well, be reassured. I've never seen two more self-sufficient women, and I know people twenty years their junior who don't have as much energy."
"Yes," said Paige, cautiously deciding to leave it at that. If Lee Tracy wanted to think she was only concerned about her aunts' ability to live alone on the island, she would let him.
Fortunately, their food arrived at that moment and provided a welcome break.
Paige concentrated on her dinner, a platter of succulent golden-fried shrimp. Their talk while they ate touched on various subjects, including Lee's business, the ongoing development of St. Simons Island, and the delicious almond muffins that the restaurant served with dinner. The time passed quickly, and all too soon they were finished.
Afterward, they walked slowly along the boardwalk that separated the restaurant from the ocean, letting the soft sea breeze blow across their faces. When the wind grew stronger, Lee said, "I think we'd better end our walk." He cast a watchful eye at the sky, where wisps of clouds scudded across the face of the moon. "It looks as though I should get you back to St. Albans."
"Why? Do you think there's a tropical storm out there?"
"It's that time of year. We'd better go."
Their boat trip back to the island was uneventful despite the rising winds.
"I enjoyed our evening together," Lee said when they had reached the Manse, and Paige turned to face him in the glare of the overhead porch light.
"So did I," she replied. He might have kissed her then, but before he could make a move, she put out her hand. "Thank you," she said, rather formally.
"You don't have a telephone, so I can't call you, but I hope I'll see you again."
She should have said "I hope so," or, "That would be lovely." Somehow she couldn't say the words and didn't have the heart for them. She saw no point in leading him on. So she only smiled and slipped quickly inside the door before he could say anything else.
She went slowly to her room, lost in thought. If only she had responded to Lee more than she had, if only she had felt something more for him than mild interest. He could provide an antidote to Chad Smith, the diversion that she needed to get Chad out of her system. For, she was rapidly discovering, Chad had become something more than an enigma to her. He'd become a compulsion. Paige hated to admit it, even to herself, but it was true. Why else did she think about him even when she was with a man who was almost equally attractive? Why else did his face keep intruding into her consciousness, his rugged face with its strong profile, his lips so disturbingly sensual, his eyes so compelling?
She willed herself to erase Chad's face from that place in her head where it had impressed itself, but it wouldn't go away. It stayed there, part of her consciousness, tormenting her with unanswered questions, the answers to which would tell her who he was and what he was doing here.
It would be better if she'd never become involved with someone whose background was so sketchy and incomplete. So far, Chad had certainly done nothing to win her confidence. Why should he? He had the wholehearted approval of both her aunts.
Paige sighed and went into her room, closing the door behind her. She took off her dress, hung it in the closet, and slipped her sheerest nightgown over her head. She was tired, but it wasn't a physical weariness. She was finally beginning to show the strain of her agonizing uncertainty about the situation on St. Albans.
If she were to be of any use to the aunts, she'd better find out who Chad Smith was. Once the aunts returned, her opportunity for checking into his background would be drastically reduced. She'd do her sleuthing quietly, unobtrusively, and she'd do it now, while they were still in Macon. Paige had seen enough of her aunts' overprotectiveness toward Chad to know that if they suspected she was intruding on Chad's privacy, they'd be highly indignant and might even hamper her efforts.
She would find out more about Chad Smith, no matter how much she personally dreaded learning the truth. She would use whatever means she could to check on his background, to find out why he had in his possession an envelope from her aunts' bank with a scribbled message from Aunt Biz.
When she found out what he was up to, when she'd discovered his secret, she would confront him with what she knew. In the process, perhaps she'd exorcise his unfathomable hold on her.
As she passed in front of the French doors, she realized that the wind from the sea had become stronger, and she heard the slamming of a shutter against the house. Another thing for Chad to repair, she thought with annoyance, running lightly downstairs. In the study she wrenched open one of the doors and stood indecisively on the veranda, scanning the row of windows that opened on to it. Sure enough, the shutter on the end window was flapping in the wind. Paige walked swiftly to secure it, noting that rain had begun to fall and was being whipped across the corner of the veranda by the wind.
The recalcitrant shutter refused to be bolted in place. She'd no sooner force it back against the wall than a puff of wind would sweep it from her grasp. Her nightgown was getting soaked. Since it didn't seem as though she was going to be able to conquer it, she wished she'd let the shutter flap.
Someone ran past the veranda, splashing through puddles, holding a raincoat over his head. It was Chad, of course. He saw her trying to fasten the shutter and said, "Paige! Let me do that. I noticed it was loose the other day, and I meant to repair it before the next storm." He dropped the raincoat and added his strength to hers to push the shutter against the house. This time, the bolt clicked into place.
"There," he said, sounding out of breath. For the first time he looked at her. Paige stepped away from him, wishing she'd thrown on a robe over her transparent gown, now wet and clinging to the ripe contours of her body.
"Paige," he said, this time quietly, a despairing note to his voice. His eyes, glowing with a light of their own, embraced her, taking in the seductive outline of her breasts, plainly visible under her clinging gown, and the slim lines of her waist, swelling into the curves of her hips.
She turned to run, her loose hair flinging water droplets. Before she put any distance between them, his big hand grasped her roughly by her upper arm.
"Wait," he said hoarsely, twisting her around to face him, pinning her against the wall. "I can't let you go. Not until—" and his lips covered hers.
With the rain whirling around them, drenching them, lending its sea-sweet flavor to their kisses, Paige felt totally unlike herself. She was someone else tonight, a rainborne spirit flying on the wind to heights of which she had never dreamed. She clasped Chad to her, feeling the strong, solid bulk of him pressed tightly to the most sensitive parts of her, clinging with an unfamiliar lightheaded euphoria to his body, the only thing that seemed to link her with the solid ground of ordinary earthbound mortals.
He released her lips with a low moan and buried his face in her damp hair, caressing the tender spot at the base of her throat with his gentle lips, breathing his warm breath on her rain-slick skin.
She felt herself bending backwards, felt her loose hair clinging to her back, felt his lips warm upon her breast through the
flimsy gown.
Suddenly a sharp bolt of lightning stabbed through the sky, followed by an almost instantaneous crash of thunder from the direction of the sea. Its echoes reverberated over the island, vibrating the veranda, bringing Paige to her senses. Another bolt of lightning followed fast upon the first, flashing its blue-white light across their startled faces.
It was no longer safe to remain on the veranda. Chad's hands released their grasp on her, and she backed away from him, holding his gaze with her own, knowing that if she held his eyes for one more moment, one more eternity, she'd have no choice but to allow herself to submit despite all the perfectly good reasons not to.
When he spoke, it was with a fevered passion and an intensity that left no doubt that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. "Don't think it's easy for me, Paige." His eyes, searching her face, held a mute plea that she didn't understand. In fact, it seemed to her that she didn't understand anything any more. She turned and fled swiftly into the Manse, away from Chad Smith.
In her room, she ran to the open doors across the length of the balcony and slammed them shut, one by one. When she reached the last one, something made her look out into the rainy night, and she saw Chad, standing in the rain, water glittering on his skin in the light from the door where she stood.
He stood as though transfixed, his eyes lifted to her as she stood above him. For a breathless moment their eyes caught and held, green upon amber, and then slowly as she watched, Chad melted into the rain and was gone.
Paige stumbled blindly inside and slammed the door against the night and against Chad Smith. Her heart pounded unreasonably. He had held her in his arms and kissed her into a magical, mystical haze, all because she had looked into his rain-veiled eyes, all because he had a hold on her that she was helpless to explain. She was inexplicably drawn to him in a way that brooked no resistance, and having had no experience whatsoever with this overpowering sense of physical attraction, she knew nothing about how to deal with it. Finally, fitfully, she fell into a welcome sleep that gave her a few hours' respite from the picture of Chad Smith that intruded into every aspect of her consciousness.
The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series) Page 26
