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The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series)

Page 39

by Pamela Browning


  "I'm doing okay," Cara said finally. "Dealing with the new job is helpful, and I feel as if I'm on a vacation of sorts. I like Ingrid and Otto, and Xanadu is beautiful."

  "I'm glad you feel that way. I hope I haven't overstepped any bounds by offering to listen. I've been through my own spells of grief, and sometimes I didn't have anyone."

  "You, Alec?" She wondered what kind of grief he'd known, this man who had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, not to mention a knife, fork and several sets of goblets to match.

  "My father died when I was young," he said. "I was there, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

  He seemed so sad that she chose her words carefully and took her time replying. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

  His eyes were anguished when he looked her full in the face. "Suicide. He drowned himself on the beach at Xanadu. That's why I was concerned that you might have been attempting the same thing."

  She was shocked, but she hoped he didn't detect her reaction. "Oh, Alec. I would never do something like that. But now I understand." She could hardly imagine how traumatic that must have been for him and what he must have been thinking as he pulled her out of the surf.

  Alec gazed off into the distance again. "I was twelve. Papa was depressed, and he refused to seek help. I was in the cabana and saw him plunge into the ocean and let it carry him out. I had no idea that's what he'd planned to do until they found his note, which made it clear. Everyone focused on my mother's grief, not on mine. It was a difficult time."

  "And Blake? Where was he?"

  "Away at school. We had different fathers, remember, and he didn't get along with mine."

  "It must have been awful to watch your father die like that."

  "I had a hard time coming to terms with it."

  "Didn't your mother help you?"

  Alec shook his head. "She wasn't in any condition to think about anyone else, and her solution to everything bad in her life was to find another man as soon as possible."

  "How awful," Cara said, thinking about Alec's trying to cope alone.

  "I had one friend who understood. She had her own problems, but she was always there for me. It made a difference, so that's why I wanted you to know I'm available if you need cheering up."

  So much was explained by Alec's revelation, and Cara rested a hand on his arm. "Telling me this means a lot," she said.

  "I hope so." His hand covered hers briefly before he moved it away.

  Self-consciously, Cara folded her own hands in her lap, the topic dropped for the time being.

  Alec soon pointed out a cruise ship in the distance, and Teddy brought them both a cold glass of lemonade. Cara kept thinking about Alec's revelation and tried to put it in the context of everything else she knew about him. To look at him now, no one would think that he was anything but a carefree bachelor who had never had a worry in the world. Sometimes, she thought, we never know the pain that another person has endured. And if we should learn of it, our perception of them is forever altered. It was that way with Alec. She was sure she'd never think of him as superficial or one-dimensional again.

  They sat in silence for a while, watching the churning wake fan out behind them and not finding it necessary to talk. Cara had just propped her feet on the railing when suddenly the outrigger snapped.

  "It's a hit!" shouted Teddy.

  The fish had struck Cara's line. She instinctively grabbed the fishing rod. Just as Alec had said, the sailfish had struck the bait on the hook and fallen back. Now this big fish was mouthing the bait. Cara felt a jerk as the hook set in the fish's mouth and found herself attached to a rod bending sharply with the weight of the fish as it ran with the hook.

  Teddy shouted instructions as she battled the huge sailfish, and she tried to concentrate on what he was saying as she held fast to the rod. Captain Willis skillfully maneuvered the boat to help Cara gain line on the fish and shorten the fighting time. Alec yelled encouragement now and then, but he preferred to stand to one side, giving Cara a chance to fight the mighty sailfish herself.

  The water behind the boat swirled as the huge sailfish flipped a cascade of spray high in the air. Cara gripped the rod and held her breath, determined not to let him get away.

  After what seemed like an eternity of pulling and straining, the sailfish began to lose its strength. It gleamed in the sunlight as she reeled it closer to the boat. Alec leaned over her to help her with the winding, for she was so tired her arms had begun to shake. He wrapped his strong arms around her and slid his hand over hers on the reel, lending her the muscle power she needed to bring the fish to the boat.

  When Cara began to think she had no strength left, the sailfish appeared in the water below them. Teddy opened a transom door in the stern and with a mighty heave pulled the sailfish out of the sea.

  Alec threw Cara a congratulatory look. "Well, Cara, if I'm any judge, it looks like you've landed a sixty-pounder," he said.

  They exchanged a high five, and Cara handed him her phone. "Help me out, Alec, I have to have a picture of this," she said.

  "Stand next to the fish. I'm glad to oblige." The photo he took captured her look of pride and elation, and she sank onto the chair while Teddy dealt with the fish.

  "You ready to head back to the dock?" the captain called from the bridge.

  "Might as well," Alec called back.

  Cara had lost her hat as she fought the fish, and Alec handed it to her. She set it back on her head and tucked her hair underneath. "That was amazing," she said to him. "Dad really knew what he was talking about when he described the thrill of sports fishing."

  Alec grinned. "Hey, you know what? You need to wind down a bit. Let's go into the cabin and rest awhile. Anyway, it's nearly time for lunch."

  Cara gave the magnificent fish on the deck one last glance. This one's for you, Dad, she thought before preceding Alec into the salon, where she sank with relief into the deep cushions of the couch and removed her sunglasses. "Did you see the way he ran with the line? You didn't tell me it would be like that." She still felt exuberant. Landing the fish had been like winning her event in a swim meet only better.

  "There are some things it's better not to tell," Alec said knowingly. "Would you have wanted to catch a sailfish if you had known it would be so difficult?"

  "Yes!" Cara exclaimed. "It was exciting. I wonder if I'll ever be able to enjoy fishing in a lake again. It seems so tame now."

  "Deep-sea fishing is a totally different sport," Alec agreed, going to the galley and opening the refrigerator. He perused the contents for a moment.

  "Surely there's no food in there," Cara said, surprised.

  He shot her a look over his shoulder. "We keep Kubla Khan fully stocked at all times. I like to take sudden fishing trips, and Blake"—here his tone became disdainful—"uses the yacht for entertaining."

  Cara studied her fingernails, one of which had been broken in her effort to land the fish. She wished Alec would refrain from criticism of Blake when she was present, and she almost told him so. But he said nothing more, instead busying himself taking trays from the refrigerator and filling glasses with ice cubes.

  "Let me help," said Cara.

  "No, stay where you are. You deserve a rest."

  Alec returned from the galley with a tray for Cara, which he placed across her knees. There were tiny slices of buttered rye bread and thin-sliced ham and a potato salad garnished with green grapes. Cara ate eagerly. Her appetite was ravenous.

  When they'd finished, Alec stacked the dishes in the small sink for Teddy to wash later. He returned to sit beside her, and she turned slightly to face him.

  "This is so pleasant, Alec," she said, enjoying what was turning out to be cozy familiarity with a man she was liking more every minute.

  "Have we permanently suspended hostilities?" His expression was inscrutable and something more.

  "If that's what they were."

  As Cara was carefully choosing her next words, Teddy appeared. "My father wants t
o know what you want him to do with the sailfish," he said to Alec.

  "Tell him to take it to the taxidermist for mounting and to have the meat smoked," Alec directed. When Cara started to object due to the cost involved, he interrupted. "My gift," he said. "You'll take a fine souvenir of Florida back to Chicago with you." He smiled. "We do that for all our guests when they land a trophy like yours."

  Before Cara could thank him, Alec followed the boy topside. In a few moments, Kubla Khan eased slowly up to the Xanadu dock. Cara went on deck to watch Alec helping Teddy secure the lines that held the yacht at her mooring. He went about the task masterfully, as if he'd done it many times before, which he probably had. She noted that after hours in the sun, Alec's sandy hair contrasted even more sharply with his tan, and as she watched he tossed his head impatiently to fling one unruly lock off his brow. The gesture captivated her, highlighting as it did the elegant shape of his head and his grace of movement.

  Although she was sure he sensed her watching, he didn't speak, and since everyone on deck was busy with their tasks, she went below so she wouldn't be in the way. When she heard the captain and Teddy tramp up the dock, Cara assumed that Alec had gone with them without saying goodbye. Stifling her disappointment over this slight, if that's what it was, she started going through the galley cabinets again, sorting and grouping glassware, and she was startled when Alec blocked the sunlight in the hatch and then slowly came down the steps to where she stood.

  "I—I thought you'd gone," she stammered, at a loss for words. Why did she always start out tongue-tied when they were alone? Alec didn't seem to notice. He held her eyes with his, and although Cara willed herself to look away, she found it impossible. She was holding a small glass serving dish, and she clutched it to her tightly. But something happened—perhaps her palms were damp—and it slipped to the galley floor with a crash, breaking into tiny slivers.

  She felt overcome with embarrassment and dismay. "Oh, no," was all she could say, the blush spreading across her stricken face.

  Alec cast a wry look at the splintered shards of glass and seemed amused. Without a word he bent to pick up the pieces.

  "I'll get it," she insisted. As she leaned over in the cramped space he raised his head, and skull met skull in an agonizing crack.

  The blow brought tears to Cara's eyes, and she knelt amid the broken glass and buried her head in her hands. Alec's voice reached her through the stars exploding behind her eyelids. She felt his touch on her arm. It was a tender touch, and his tone was teasing.

  "It's amazing, these things you do," he said, his lips close to her ear. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you planned them in advance just to torment me."

  She lifted her tear-streaked face, and he encircled her with his arms and raised her to a standing position. The middle of her forehead touched the tip of his chin so that in order to kiss her on the lips he had to bend his head. She found herself raising her mouth to his as he tangled one hand in her hair, she let her arms go around his neck to bring him close. His lips released hers and he kissed away the tearstains on her cheeks. Cara felt the kindling and then the blaze of the fire inside her, the fire that was beginning to feel so familiar.

  Just when she was contemplating what it might feel like to run her fingers through the hair on his chest, the slam of a car door sounded from the parking lot. Alec pulled away from her and bent to look out the porthole.

  "It's Blake," he said. "Did you plan this?"

  Cara shook her head numbly. "No, of course not."

  He had one foot on the steps that led to the deck and he turned to shoot her a skeptical look. "Unfinished business," he said. "Between you and me." And with that he was gone, passing Blake on the dock without so much as a word of greeting.

  Blake found Cara on her knees sweeping the last of the broken glass onto a sheet of paper.

  "What happened?" he asked her. She was glad to see that he appeared to have forgiven her for last night's misplaced levity.

  "I dropped a dish," she said, relieved that her kneeling position afforded her an opportunity to hide her face until she could master her emotions. "An inexpensive one, I'm glad to say."

  "Next time leave the mess for Teddy to clean up."

  Cara dumped the broken pieces into a wastebasket beneath the counter and turned to face Blake. "Thank you for the dinner last night," she said. "It was delicious."

  "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Cara. And please don't think I was angry with you for what happened later. It was my brother who ticked me off. Now, are you finished here, and can I give you a lift back to the house? I told Otto I'd be glad to play chauffeur." Blake smiled at her, clearly hoping to make amends for the way he'd acted the night before.

  "I've reached a good stopping point," Cara said, suddenly very tired. It occurred to her that she couldn't wait to get off the boat, but she hadn't felt that way when Alec was there.

  Blake waited while she gathered her things and carried them for her as they made their way along the dock. The early afternoon sun hung high in the sky as they got in Blake's Thunderbird and drove along the winding approach to the mansion, and Cara was relieved that Blake didn't take the conversation beyond her account of landing the sailfish.

  By the time they approached the garage, Cara was looking forward to a peaceful sojourn in her room, but then they heard the sound of voices coming from the front of the house. Blake braked to a halt, a puzzled expression on his face.

  Cara and Blake exchanged glances. "Who can that be?" Cara asked. It sounded like several people—no, a whole group. Blake stepped out of the car and paused, frowning.

  "Let's see what's happening," he said suddenly, catching Cara by the hand and pulling her alongside him. As they hurried across the driveway past the kitchen entrance, a cheer went up from the crowd of people gathered at the front of the mansion. When they rounded the corner, Blake stopped dead in his tracks and dropped Cara's hand.

  The manicured front lawn surrounding the fountain and the circular driveway were filled with people carrying signs. SAVE XANADU, said one. DON'T PAVE IT—SAVE IT, said another. A girl in booty shorts waved a placard at Cara and yelled, "No bulldozers!" The crowd picked up the chant and soon everyone was singsonging, "No bulldozers, no bulldozers."

  Cara looked around in astonishment. She saw all types of people: some ragtag, like the girl with the placard; several surfer dudes and dudettes; and some well dressed, like the smartly coiffed matron standing on the front steps chanting along with the others. And could it be—yes, it definitely was—Alec, leaning nonchalantly against the fountain, an amused ironic gleam in his eye.

  Blake stormed forward, fists clenched at his sides. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked Alec. The demonstrators stopped the chanting, waiting to see what Alec would do.

  "Just some of my friends," said Alec with a look of studied innocence. "I asked them to drop by. Good of them, don't you think?"

  Cara, coming up slowly, saw a white line form around Blake's mouth. "I'll have them arrested for trespassing," he fumed. "I'll send them all to jail."

  Alec smiled with supreme self-confidence. "You can't, big brother," he said. "They're my guests. I invited them. I still own half of this estate, you know."

  "Why, you—" said Blake, stepping forward. He was interrupted by the arrival of a van threading its way through the crowd in the driveway. It slowed to a halt at the front door. Alec watched with interest, Blake with rage. WPBK, Action Live Television, was emblazoned in big letters on the side.

  A short man with a microphone jumped out of the van, followed by another with a shoulder-held video camera. The man with the microphone leaped to the top step and began interviewing the well-dressed matron.

  "And what is your feeling about the fate of Xanadu?" prompted the newsman.

  The woman pursed her lips. "I think it's positively terrible what they're planning to do to this cultural landmark," she told him.

  He moved on to a long-haired boy who declared himself a high-school student an
d said, "Like, it's a bad thing to do, tearing down this old lady," meaning Xanadu.

  As the newsman worked his way through the crowd, eliciting comments from anyone who would talk, Cara perched on the side of the fountain beside Alec.

  "Want to join our demonstration, Cara?" Alec asked softly.

  Cara turned indignantly. "Absolutely not!" But she interrupted herself when she saw the warm humor in Alec's eyes. "Well, that is—" She felt flustered.

  "Admit it, Cara. You agree with us, don't you?"

  "You know I do," she returned hotly. "It's just—"

  "Just Blake?"

  "Oh, never mind!" she told him and turned the other way. Actually her emotions were in turmoil. On one hand, she wanted to applaud the demonstrators, even add her protests to theirs. But then there was Blake, looking so angry, and she felt a certain loyalty to him, even though she disagreed with his plans for Xanadu.

  While she was turning over the contradictions in her mind, Alec unfolded himself from the base of the fountain and sauntered to the newsman's van. He spoke into the microphone with authority, citing all his reasons for wanting to save the mansion and his condemnation of anyone who didn't.

  "Well, that pretty much draws a line in the sand," muttered Blake.

  "Thanks," the newsman said to Alec. He waved, climbed into the van, and after a slamming of doors, the vehicle was moving down the driveway to South Ocean Boulevard.

  Blake stood wordless, his lip curling in disgust.

  Alec surveyed the demonstrators, who were milling about and congratulating one another for calling attention to Xanadu's plight. Suddenly he ran to the fountain and leaped to the rim.

  "Hey, everybody," he called. "Free beer at my place. Let's go!"

  A wild cheer went up from the audience, even the matron on the steps. A mass exodus toward the cabana ensued.

  "You're invited, Cara," said Alec pointedly. "That is, if you want to come." His eyes held a challenge that was not lost on her.

  She wavered in indecision, torn between Blake, who was seething as he watched the crowd surge toward the beach, and Alec. Just then a red Ferrari sports car tore around the corner and leaned into the curve of the driveway, scattering the peacocks on the lawn. Cara recognized the driver immediately.

 

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