by Kara Lennox
His body suddenly relaxed, and he slumped on top of her, shifting a bit to the side so he wouldn’t crush her.
“Wow,” she said.
Now that was the kind of review he liked to hear. “Yeah,” he agreed. He’d known just from looking at her that making love with Allie Bateman would be spectacular, but he’d never imagined how much.
“I feel like a boat that’s just sailed through a hurricane with all the sails up.”
“That’s good, I hope.”
She laughed. “Oh, yeah.” Her face grew pensive. “I think we should do it again, just to prove it wasn’t a fluke.”
“Have mercy, woman.”
“You did promise.”
“Give me a few minutes, huh?” He’d created a monster. Fortunately, it was a species of monster he liked.
“Okay, but no snoring.”
He figured she’d probably fall right to sleep, but every time he looked at her, her pretty green eyes were wide open and studying him expectantly. Waiting for the snore.
Well, hell, he wasn’t about to fulfill that expectation.
She began rubbing his chest, almost experimentally, and he guided her hand down where it would do the most good.
“Oh,” she said. “Ohh.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I don’t believe in false advertising. I said we’d do it all again, and we will.”
Chapter Ten
Allie woke with a start, disoriented and faintly panicked. Was it the fire alarm again?
But, no, it was a cell phone going nuts. A muscular, masculine arm reached past her to turn off the phone, and memories of last night came crashing back into her head.
Oh. My. God. What had she done? She’d slept with the man who was trying to ruin her!
“Morning, gorgeous.” He nuzzled her neck and the panic receded slightly. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Don’t you have to answer the phone?”
“It has an alarm function. I set it for seven.”
“Seven?” Judging from the sunlight pouring through cracks in the curtains, she hadn’t misheard.
Cooper’s nuzzling grew more insistent. “We have plenty of time if you want to-”
Abruptly she sat up. “You might have plenty of time, but it’ll take me a while to throw myself together.” She jumped out of bed, knowing she was stark naked and that he was watching her, but there was nothing she could do about it.
She quickly gathered up her discarded clothes-Good Lord, how had her panties ended up on the bedpost?-and made a break for it.
She didn’t take a full breath until she was safely in her own room.
Time really was short, but that was only an excuse for the cowardly way she’d fled Cooper’s bed. She simply hadn’t been ready to face the consequences of her actions in the cold morning light. She didn’t want to give Cooper the chance to say all those morning-after things men said when they wanted to extricate themselves.
Now that she thought about it, though, he hadn’t seemed eager to get rid of her. She touched her neck where he’d been kissing her. Maybe she’d made a mistake.
No, it really was late. And it really would take her a long time to get ready. Aside from the usual showering and dressing, she had to do something with her unruly hair. And, Lord help her, she had to put on makeup and file her nails. No point dressing up in new girlie clothes if the rest of her still looked a tomboy.
Her body felt strange as she let the hot water from the enormous shower’s twin sprays beat down on it. Her skin was sensitive in a way it never had been before. It was almost like she had a brand-new body, and as she soaped herself up she couldn’t help remembering all the places Cooper had kissed her, touched her.
All alone in her shower, her nipples hardened and she blushed.
She used the built-in blow-dryer to straighten her hair, making it a little easier to style. She thought about leaving it loose-for a change it wasn’t all over the place. But she decided it would just get in her way, so she pulled it back in a loose braid and pulled a few strands loose to frame her face. In the bathroom’s humidity, they started curling again.
Makeup was even more of a challenge. She’d never worn makeup on a regular basis and had never excelled at applying it. She had to do her eyeliner three times before she got it straight. She managed to get mascara in her hair, and her first attempt at eyeshadow was so heavy-handed that she had to wipe it off with a wet washcloth and start over.
But in the end, she was pleased with the results. As she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, she felt she was looking at a different person. An Allie Bateman clone who lived an altogether different life from her own.
This Allie wore beautiful clothes, stayed in luxury hotels, and had sex with handsome and completely unsuitable men.
When she emerged from her room she got another surprise. A waiter was just leaving; he’d set up a table for two near the window, and the delectable scents of bacon and coffee tickled her nose.
Cooper turned after closing the door and greeted her with a smile. In a pressed Hawaiian shirt, baggy khakis and Top-Siders, he looked even more delicious than the breakfast that no doubt awaited her. Still rather neat, but inching toward Jimmy Buffet casual.
“You look fantastic.”
The way he was looking at her, like he wanted to devour her on the spot, made her feel fantastic. “Thank you. You ordered breakfast?”
“Since you felt pressed for time, I thought this would be faster. I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I ordered a little bit of everything.”
She was so hungry she could eat a little of everything. Maybe even a lot of everything. When she inspected the contents of the covered plates on the rolling cart next to their table, she found eggs, biscuits, pancakes, waffles, French toast, sausage and bacon.
“You weren’t kidding,” she said. “I would love waffles.”
“They’re all yours.” He served them both, poured them orange juice and coffee.
She felt like a princess. It was sweet of him to go to all this trouble and expense just so she wouldn’t feel rushed. She’d ogled the prices on the room service menu. He might be getting the room for free, but she bet he had to pay for the food. This spread probably set him back seventy-five dollars.
She’d never known what it was like to have disposable income. She’d never gone hungry, and her father had earned enough that she had all the necessities. Later, when she was earning her own paycheck, she socked away every spare penny with the idea of buying her own boat.
But luxuries had never been a part of her life, and she felt a little strange letting Cooper provide them for her. But as she crunched down on the perfectly cooked waffle topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, she realized she could get used to this.
Hah. Dream on, girl. This was a once-in-a-lifetime treat for her-all of it, including the mind-blowing lovemaking.
“I don’t mean to rush you,” Cooper said, “but we probably should get a move on. We have a lot of last-minute adjustments to make before the convention center doors open.”
“Oh. Right.” She was the one who’d flown out of bed in a panic about the time, and here she was woolgathering.
THE CONVENTION CENTER was a beehive of frenzied activity as everyone hustled to be ready by ten o’clock. Allie fussed with the satin booth skirt, evening out the pleats, and Cooper set out an antique fisherman’s basket to hold the entries for their drawing, as well as the blank entry forms and pens.
Max showed up at ten minutes to ten with his last contribution-give-away key chains with little dolphins printed with Remington Charters, Port Clara, Texas and a phone number-not hers, she noticed.
“Whose phone number is this?” she asked.
“My cell phone,” Cooper answered. At her frown he added, “Don’t worry. If you end up with the boat, I’ll refer any potential customers straight back to you.”
She eyed the stack of glossy brochures suspiciously. It hadn’t occurr
ed to her to check the phone number. She picked up one off the stack and flipped it over. It listed her number, not his.
Cooper smirked at her.
“Very fair-minded of you,” she said. “I’ll extend the same courtesy.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Max announced. “I’m supposed to meet with some artists.” He took off.
“Yeah,” Cooper grumbled, “and if he doesn’t hire them, he’ll take them to bed.”
“He’s a real Romeo, huh?”
“It’s not his fault. The women offer.”
“Jane didn’t offer, I’m pretty sure of that.”
Cooper grinned. “Okay, so it’s partly Max’s fault. He can’t help himself.”
“And what about you?”
“I couldn’t help myself last night, that was for sure.” The look he gave her was so hot she was ready to forget the trade show and go back to bed. But then the convention center doors opened and potential customers streamed in. Allie put on her professional face and prepared to sell the heck out of herself and her business.
Traffic was thin the first couple of hours. Allie struck up a conversation with the woman in the exhibit next door, which was promoting a fancy day spa in the Hill Country. The woman was bored and offered to paint Allie’s nails for free.
“Your nails are a really nice shape,” the woman commented as she applied red polish. Her name was Candy, which seemed appropriate given that she looked like a pop star. “You should grow them out a little.”
“I wouldn’t be able to work with long nails.” Allie could just imagine trying to repair the boat’s engine or bait a fishhook with long claws.
“So is the man working with you your husband?”
Allie laughed. “Oh, Lord, no! He’s someone I’ve been forced to work with for a short while, but very soon he’ll be out of my life.” That thought didn’t bring her as much satisfaction as it should have. Though she was terrified of losing the Dragonfly, Cooper’s abrupt entry into her life had given it a certain sense of excitement, like she’d awakened from a long sleep.
Maybe she’d been depressed. She had been doing the bare minimum to get by and no more, taking no real pleasure in her work. She probably would have come out of it eventually as the sting of losing Johnny lessened, but Cooper Remington had jolted her out of it sooner rather than later.
“So he’s unattached?” Candy asked, studying Cooper so intently she blobbed red polish across Allie’s knuckle. “Oops, sorry.” She quickly wiped up the mishap.
“Trust me, you don’t want to mess with him. He’s trouble.”
“I like trouble.”
Allie didn’t doubt it. “He’s a lawyer.”
Rather than dampening Candy’s interest, that tidbit made her nose twitch like that of a bird dog on the scent of quail. “No kidding. Okay, we’re done here. Put your hands under this drying lamp for a few minutes so you don’t smudge. I’ve just got to go check out this troublesome lawyer.”
“Your funeral.” But as Candy sashayed out of the spa’s booth, Allie felt distinctly uneasy. Obviously two hours of mindless passion didn’t qualify her to make claims on Cooper. But that didn’t mean she wanted to watch as he made another conquest.
She wasn’t sure who she felt sorrier for-Candy, falling victim to Cooper’s irresistible nature, or Cooper, becoming the target of an obvious man-hunter. Maybe they deserved each other.
Another woman from the spa booth sat down beside Allie. Two other spa employees-all of them dressed in white lab coats open to reveal tight, low-cut shirts and miniskirts-were working on potential customers, giving a chair massage to one and putting makeup on another.
“Hey, thanks for coming over,” the woman said. “Seems to have broken the ice. We have a line forming.”
“No charge. My nails have never looked this pretty.”
“Candy’s good. She’s also good with men, so if you have any claim on that delicious guy in your booth-”
“No, no claim.” She knew her voice was brittle. She couldn’t resist peeking over her shoulder at Cooper and Candy. The two of them were talking and smiling. Cooper was apparently getting Candy signed up for a chance to win a free cruise.
Candy would win over Allie’s dead body.
The ferocity of her thoughts frightened her a bit. Maybe she better remove herself before she said or did something fatally stupid.
“My nails are dry. I think I’ll go walk around a bit.” Maybe if she drew a few customers into the booth, they would get a line, too. She walked up to her own booth, grabbed a stack of brochures without even looking at Cooper and Candy, and set off down the aisle to “work the crowd.” She had no idea how that was really done, since she’d never done it and she wasn’t the world’s most social animal, but she gave it a shot.
She saw two women standing in the middle of the aisle gazing around, apparently trying to decide where to go next. Allie strode up to them with her best smile, holding out one of the brochures.
“Hi, I’m Captain Allie Bateman of Remington Charters out of Port Clara. Would you like to win a free deep-sea fishing adventure for four?” she asked brightly.
“We don’t fish,” one of the women said dismissively.
Allie refused to be discouraged. “I can teach you. Don’t you love fresh red snapper, cooked over the grill with a bit of butter, garlic and tarragon? And I bet your husbands or boyfriends love to fish. Kids love it, too. Do you have kids?”
One of the women took the brochure. “I have a teenage son. He doesn’t love anything.”
“Get him out on the ocean in the fresh air, away from his computer, and I bet he’d have a blast. The Remington Charters booth is just at the end of this aisle on the left. We’re giving away three free cruises.”
“Okay, we’ll sign up.”
As the two women took off, Allie congratulated herself. Cooper could sit around in the booth and flirt if he wanted to; she would show him how to get customers.
She tried a similar approach with men, and it worked even better because lots of them already liked to fish. Husband-wife couples were a little more difficult, especially when the wives caught the husbands looking at Allie’s chest, which they invariably did. One woman declared she wouldn’t let her husband sail on any boat where Allie was sailing, too. But many of them were interested, especially the ones who had kids too old for Disneyland and too young for a Carnival Cruise.
By the time she made a complete circuit around the convention center floor, she’d given away a thick stack of brochures and there was quite a crowd gathered around the booth. Some were signing up for the drawing, some were watching the video and some were listening raptly to Cooper wax enthusiastic about fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. She had to admit, his flair for the dramatic-probably honed through courtroom performances-made a trip with Remington Charters sound like the greatest adventure since Indiana Jones went looking for the lost ark.
Allie worked her way up to the booth. “Miss me?”
“Where have you been?” he asked under his breath, sounding mildly annoyed. “We’re suddenly swamped.”
“We’re swamped because I’ve been out hustling,” she said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things if you want to take a break. Maybe go next door and hang out with Candy?”
He gave her a blank look. “Candy?”
“The blonde from next door?” Allie nodded toward the spa booth.
“Oh, her.” He looked puzzled for a moment longer, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Jealous?”
“Of course I’m not jealous!” she sputtered. “Just because we…I mean, I don’t have any reason to…That’s ridiculous.” As he seemed to take more and more enjoyment from her indignant response, she realized she was just digging her grave deeper, so she clamped her mouth closed.
He laughed. “You are jealous.”
Denials were useless. She sighed. “Would anyone like a free key chain?” she asked the small crowd. “When you squeeze the dolphin his eyes light up.” All
of the women with small children jumped at the dolphin key chains. Cooper, still smiling, took his own stack of brochures and went to work on the convention floor. Shortly after, a small flurry of women approached the booth. Wouldn’t they be surprised if they booked cruises for a few weeks later in the season and arrived to find no sign of Cooper?
They stayed busy the rest of the day with a constant stream of potential customers, some of them seriously interested. By the end of the day Allie’s feet were killing her, her throat was sore and her hair was coming loose from its moorings. But the fishing basket was stuffed with entries, which meant lots of names to add to their mailing list, and they’d booked seven reservations for future cruises with deposits paid.
Allie’s cell phone had started ringing, too. Apparently some people who hadn’t actually made it to the booth had looked at the brochure later and had been intrigued enough to ask questions.
When the last of the convention attendees were shuttled out of the building, Allie collapsed into a chair. “Just shoot me now. That was the hardest work I’ve ever done.”
Cooper looked exceedingly pleased with himself. “And just think, tomorrow we get to do it all again.”
“Do you think someone could bring a stretcher to carry me back to the hotel? My shoes are rubbing blisters.”
“I just bought you a whole box of Band-Aids.”
“They’re back at the hotel.”
Cooper, still seemingly full of energy, was packing and straightening up the booth. “I’ll get the car and pick you up at the exit so you don’t have to walk so far.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“You’ll have a couple of hours to rest and put your feet up before the party.”
Allie sat up straighter. “Party? What party?”
“We’ve been invited to a cocktail party hosted by the Gulf Coast Yacht Club.”
Allie yawned. “You’ll have to go without me. The only thing on my agenda this evening is a long, hot bath and an early bedtime.” She didn’t want to elaborate on exactly why she hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, because she was kind of hoping Cooper had forgotten about it.
