Twelve Nights of Temptation

by Barbara Dunlop

  Dianne lifted her head and looked around. “There’s nothing left for me here either.” Her voice cracked again. “Not without Matt.”

  “You really need to think about a job. You’re young. Get started on a career. Did you go to college?”

  “Only for a year. I took fine arts. I didn’t pass much.”

  “What would you like to do? What are you good at?”

  Dianne looked Tasha in the eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I want to help,” Tasha answered honestly.

  “Why? I’m nothing to you.”

  “You’re a fellow human being, a fellow Bostonian, part of the sisterhood.”

  Dianne gave a hollow laugh. “There’s no sisterhood. Are you a do-gooder? Am I a charitable thing for you?”

  “No.” Tasha gave it some thought. “I don’t know, really.” It was as honest as she could be.

  “I gave parties,” Dianne said in a tired, self-mocking voice. “I can make small talk and order hors d’oeuvres.”

  The germ of an idea came to Tasha.

  Caleb had fancy restaurants all over the country. Perhaps Jules, Tasha knew her better than she did Caleb, might be willing to help Dianne.

  “I’m going to ask around,” Tasha said.

  “Matt won’t like that.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Tasha wasn’t sure if Matt would care or not. But surely he’d be in favor of anything that put Dianne back on her feet, helped her to take care of herself.

  She didn’t have to make a big deal with Jules. And if Matt did find out, he’d see the logic and reason, she assured herself. He was a very reasonable man.

  * * *

  On the drive home, Tasha seemed lost in thought. Either that, or she was still annoyed with Matt for appreciating financial security. He’d wanted to talk about it some more, maybe help her understand his motivations. But he didn’t want to rekindle their argument. He liked it better when they were on the same side of something.

  “Could we really have had a fire?” he asked her.

  She turned from where she’d been gazing out the window into the darkness. “What?”

  “On Salty Sea. Would there have been a fire?”

  “Yes. Almost certainly. The fuel from the fuel line leak would have sprayed across the spark from the electric short, and bam, it would have ignited.”

  “It looks odd,” he said. “You talking about the inner workings of an engine while you’re dressed like that.”

  “That’s why I don’t dress like this.”

  “You look terrific.”

  “I feel like a fraud. I can’t wait to get out of this getup.” She reached down and peeled off the black pumps.

  The action was sexy, very sexy. He immediately imagined her shrugging down the straps of the dress. He shifted in his seat.

  “Feet sore?” he asked.

  “And how. Steel-toed boots might be clunky, but they’re built for wearing, not for show.”

  “They wouldn’t go with the dress.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “And it would be hard to dance in them.”

  Tasha curled her legs up on the seat, a hand going to one foot to rub it. “I’d be willing to give it a shot.”

  Matt curled his hands to keep them still. “The new cameras are being installed tomorrow.”

  “We need them. I’m doubling up on my inspections. Alex and I are going to check every boat the morning before it leaves port.”

  “Won’t that be a lot of work?”

  “I couldn’t do everything I’d like, not without hiring three more mechanics. But we can cover the basics.”

  “Do you need to hire someone else?”

  She switched her self-massage to the other foot. “I’ll call in all the contract mechanics. But I have to believe this is temporary. The next time that guy tries something, we’re going to catch him on camera and have him arrested.”

  Matt gave in to temptation and reached across the back seat for one of her feet.

  “Don’t.” She jumped at his touch.

  He looked meaningfully at the driver. “It’s just a foot.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  He ignored her, settling her foot in his lap and pressing his thumb into the arch.

  She gave a small moan.

  “Those blisters look awful,” he said.

  Her baby toes and the backs of her heels were swollen and red.

  “They’ll heal.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t tell me how bad it was.” He massaged carefully around the swollen skin.

  “That feels good,” she said.

  “Do you need to take the day off tomorrow?”

  “You’re funny.”

  “I’m serious. It’s Sunday. Don’t work.”

  “And let Alex do it all?”

  He didn’t have a comeback for that. He had to admire Tasha’s work ethic. Still, he couldn’t let her burn herself out. And her feet were going to be painful tomorrow.

  “As long as I don’t put on the same shoes,” she said. “I’ll use bandages and wear thick socks. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re a trouper,” he said with honest admiration.

  The driver slowed as Matt’s driveway came up on the right.

  “You’re easily impressed,” she said.

  “Not really.”

  They were silent as the car cruised through the trees to the house. While they did, Matt continued his massage. His image of her strong and sturdy on the job faded to how she was now...soft, smooth, almost delicate.

  When the car came to a stop, he reached to the floor and collected her shoes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Wait right there.” He exited from his side and tipped the driver.

  Then he went around to her, opening the door and reaching in to lift her from the seat.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” she protested.

  “Oh, yes I do. You can’t put these shoes back on. You’ll burst the blisters and bleed all over the place.”

  “Then I’ll walk barefoot.”

  “Over the rocks and through the mud? Hang on.”

  “Put me down.”

  But even as she protested, he hoisted her easily into the air, and her arms went around his shoulders. He pushed the sedan door shut with his shoulder and started to the stairs that led to the staff quarters.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said. “Nobody better see us.”

  “It’s dark.”

  “There are lights on the porch.”

  “It’s after midnight. Everyone will be asleep.”

  “They better be.”

  He couldn’t help but smile to himself. He’d learned by now that Tasha hated anything that made her look remotely weak.

  “Blisters are nothing to be ashamed of,” he said.

  “I’m not ashamed of having blisters.” She paused. “I’m ashamed of having some Neanderthal carry my apparently feeble self to my room.”

  “I’m wearing a tux.”

  “So?”

  “I’m just saying, your average Neanderthal probably didn’t wear a tux.”

  The joke got him a bop in the shoulder.

  “Not much of a comeback,” he said.

  “We’re here. You can put me down now.”

  “Not yet.” He mounted the stairs for the second floor.

  She squirmed in his arms. “I can walk on wooden stairs in my bare feet.”

  “Splinters.”

  “I’m not going to get splinters.”

  “We’re here. Where’s your key?”

  “Y
ou can put me down on the mat.”

  “I like holding you.” He did. He was in absolutely no hurry to put her down. “You’re light. You’re soft. Your hair smells like vanilla.”

  “It’s not locked,” she said.

  “Are you kidding me?” he barked. “With all that’s been going on?” He couldn’t believe she would be so cavalier about her own safety.

  He reached for the doorknob and opened the door. He set her down on the floor inside and immediately turned on the light switch, checking all the corners of the room, the small sitting area, the kitchenette, the double bed. Then he crossed to the bathroom and opened up the door.

  “Matt, this is silly.”

  He was annoyed with her. No, he was downright angry. Somebody was targeting them for unknown reasons, and so far it had more to do with her than with anybody else at Whiskey Bay, and she was leaving her door unlocked?

  He turned back. “Please tell me you lock it at night.”

  She looked decidedly guilty. “I can start.”

  He took the paces that brought him in front of her. “You bet your life you’re going to start. You’re going to start tonight, now, right away.”

  “You don’t need to get upset,” she said.

  “You’re scaring me.” His gaze fell on her gorgeous green eyes. “I’m afraid for you.” He took in her flushed cheeks. “I want to protect you. I...”

  Their gazes meshed, and the sound of the surf filled the silence. She just stood there in the shadows looking like his fondest dream come true.

  She looked delicate and enticing. Her hair was mussed. One strap had fallen down, leaving her shoulder bare. He wanted to kiss her shoulder. He wanted to taste that shoulder more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

  He gave in.

  He leaned forward, gently wrapping his hands around her upper arms. He placed a light kiss on her shoulder. Then he tasted her skin with the tip of his tongue. He kissed her again, made his way to her neck.

  She tipped her head sideways, giving him better access.

  He brushed her hair back, kissing his way to her ear, her temple, her closed eyes and finally her mouth.

  She kissed him back, and he spread his fingers into her hair.

  She stepped into his arms, an enchanting, elegant, utterly feminine woman pressing against his hard, heated body.

  He reached out and pushed the door shut behind her.

  He deepened their kiss.

  He began to unzip her dress, paused, running his hands over the smooth skin of her back.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Don’t, don’t stop.”

  Seven

  Everything flooded from Tasha’s mind, everything except the taste of Matt’s lips, the feel of his hands and the sound of his voice. His heart beat against her chest where they pressed together. She wanted this. No, she needed this. Whatever it was that had been building between them for days on end was bursting out, and there was no stopping it.

  She pushed off his tux jacket, and he tossed it on the chair. She tugged his bow tie loose, and it dangled around his neck. She kissed his square chin, struggled with the buttons of his shirt, while his hands roamed her back.

  His hands were warm, the fingertips calloused. As she peeled away his tuxedo, the urbane facade seemed to melt away along with it. He was tough underneath, muscular and masculine. A small scar marred his chest, another across his shoulder.

  She kissed the shoulder and traced a fingertip along his chest. “What happened?”

  “Working,” he answered, his breathing deep. “Winch handle and a rogue wave.”

  “You should be more careful.”

  “I will.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at his easy capitulation.

  His hands went to her dress straps. He eased them down, baring her breasts in the cool air.

  “Gorgeous,” he said stopping to stare.

  It had been a long time since a man had seen her naked, never if you didn’t count an eighteen-year-old freshman. She was glad it was Matt, glad he seemed pleased, happy to bask in the heat of his gaze.

  He slowly reached out, brushing his thumb across her nipple. She sucked in a breath, a shudder running through to her core. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to do it again.

  “Oh, Tasha,” he whispered, his hand closing over her breasts.

  She tipped her head for his kiss, and her dress slithered to the floor.

  His palms slipped to her rear, covering her satin panties. His lips found hers again, his kiss deep and delicious. His shirt separated, and they were skin to skin.

  “You’re so soft.” His hand continued its exploration of her breast.

  Rockets of sensation streamed from her hard nipples to the apex of her thighs.

  Impatient, she reached for his belt, looping it free, popping the button of his pants and dragging down the zipper.

  He groaned as her knuckles grazed him.

  Then he scooped her back into his arms and carried her to the double bed, stripping back the blankets to lay her on the cool sheets. He was beside her in a moment, shucking his pants.

  He came to his knees, hooking his thumbs in the waist of her panties, drawing them slowly down, to her thighs, to her knees and over her ankles.

  He kissed her ankle, then her knee, then her thigh and her hip bone, making his way to her breasts, kissing them both, making her heartbeat echo all through her.

  She raked her fingers into his hair. A buzzing started within her, making her twitch with need.

  “You have a condom?” she asked breathlessly. She was woefully unprepared.

  “I’ve got it,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

  He rose up and kissed her mouth. Then his hands went on a glorious exploration, touching her everywhere, discovering secrets, making her writhe with impatience and need.

  “Please, Matt,” she finally whimpered.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, levering above her, stroking her thighs. She watched him closely as he pressed slowly, steadily inside.

  She rocked her hips upward, closing her legs around him.

  He moved, pulling out, pushing in, grasping her to him as he kissed her deeper and deeper. She met his tongue thrust for thrust, and her hands gripped his back. She needed an anchor as gravity gave way.

  The room grew hotter. The waves sounded louder on the rocks below. Matt’s body moved faster, and she arched to meet him, the rhythm increasing.

  Fulfillment started as a deep glow, burning hotter, moving outward, taking over her belly, then her breasts, then her legs and her arms. It tingled in her toes and in the roots of her hair. She cried out as sensation lifted her. Then she flew and then floated.

  “Tasha,” Matt cried, his body shuddering against her.

  She absorbed every tremor, his body slick, his heartbeat steady. Her waves of pleasure were unending, until she finally fell still, exhausted, unable to move beneath his comfortable weight on top of her.

  She didn’t know what she’d done.

  Okay, she knew what she’d done. She knew exactly what she’d done. She also knew she shouldn’t have done it.

  “Stop,” he muttered in her ear.

  “Stop what?”

  He rose up on an elbow. “I can feel you second-guessing yourself.”

  “We can’t undo that,” she said.

  “Who wants to undo it?”

  “We do. We should. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “There was a plan?”

  “Quit laughing at me.”

  He enveloped her in a warm hug.

  It shouldn’t have felt so great. It couldn’t feel this great.

  “Oh, Tasha. We made love. People do it all the time. The world will keep spinning, I promise.”


  “Maybe you do it all the time.”

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He eased back to look at her again. He smoothed the hair from her eyes. “I don’t do it all the time. My marriage was on the rocks for quite a while. And since then... Well, I’ve only just started dating again.”

  Tasha shouldn’t have cared whom Matt had been with before her. But she found herself glad that he hadn’t had an active sex life. She didn’t want it to matter, but it did.

  “I’m—” She stopped short, realizing she was going to sound hopelessly unsophisticated.

  His eyes widened, and he drew sharply back. “You weren’t...”

  “A virgin? No. I would have said something.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “I did have a boyfriend,” she said. “Right after high school.”

  “One?” Matt asked. “Singular?”

  “I couldn’t date anyone in trade school. There were three women in a class of thirty-six. We were way too smart to get involved with anyone. It could have killed our chances of being treated as peers.”

  “I suppose,” Matt said. Then he touched a finger to the bottom of her chin. “So, you’re saying one then? Just the one guy?”

  “Just the one,” she admitted, feeling a bit foolish. She should have kept her mouth shut.

  “Tasha Lowell.” His kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “I am honored.”

  “Oh, that didn’t sound outmoded at all.”

  He grinned. “You could be honored back at me.”

  “Okay,” she said, fighting a smile. “Matt Emerson, I am honored. And I’m embarrassed. And I’m certainly soon to be regretful.”

  “But not yet?” he asked on an exaggerated note of hopefulness.

  “I can feel it coming.”

  “You have nothing to regret.”

  She wriggled to relieve the pressure on her hip, and he eased off to one side.

  “You said that about our kiss,” she said, sitting up and pulling a sheet over her breasts.

  “Did you?” He traced a line along her knuckles.

  “I don’t know.” Things had changed so fundamentally between them. Was that single kiss to blame?

  She didn’t want to talk about it right now. She didn’t want to dissect this.