by Kara Lennox
“You have to go,” he said. “The members of this club are exactly the sort of customers we want-very wealthy and already into boats.”
“If they already own boats, why would they want to charter ours? I mean, mine.” She couldn’t believe she’d slipped like that.
“Because we don’t just offer a boat. We provide them with the whole package-the equipment, the bait, the fish-cleaning.”
“So what do you need me for? Clearly you can talk up Remington Charters without my help.”
“Trust me, you need to be there. You’re part of the package.”
“Oh, so you want the men to ogle my breasts while you sell them on the business? Is that it?”
Cooper’s face clouded. “No, Allie, that is not it. You are the best fishing guide in Port Clara, and possibly the whole Texas Gulf Coast. Everybody agrees you can find the fish, you know what bait to use. Yeah, the men like to look at you. But the moment you open your mouth and start talking fishing, they’re mesmerized.
“Maybe it escaped your attention,” he concluded, “but we work well as a team.”
She forced herself to relax. Yes, she had noticed it. He was strong in areas where she was weak, and vice versa. “I’m sure the party would be loads of fun and good for business, but I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to a cocktail party.”
“What about the dress?” His voice went slightly husky, and his eyes grew bright and hot.
“I didn’t bring it.”
“Sure, you did. Go look in your suitcase.”
Chapter Eleven
Cooper had just managed to extricate himself from another uncomfortable phone call from his mother when Allie emerged from her room wearing the halter dress, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. She’d swept her hair up on top of her head, secured with a gold clip, and her makeup was more dramatic than it had been during the day.
“Wow. You look like a dream.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”
Okay, so she wasn’t happy that he’d bought the dress despite her veto. She’d get over it. “Has no one ever taught you how to take a compliment? The correct response is, ‘Thank you.’ Perhaps adding, ‘You look nice, too.’”
She seemed to see him for the first time, eyeing him up and down. She cocked her head to one side. “You do look nice. No, nice isn’t the right word. Fantastic. Movie starish. Godlike. But you must be used to hearing that about yourself. I’m not. I know I’m not beautiful, so when you say that I am, it makes me suspicious, that’s all.”
“Suspicious that I want something from you?”
“Exactly.”
He walked slowly toward her, his gaze focused on her full lips. “I do want something from you. But I don’t need to resort to false flattery. You are beautiful, and I refuse to believe no one has told you that before.”
As he drew even closer, her eyes got that deer-in-head-lights look about them. “N-no one I’d trust.”
He pushed her gently against the wall. She tried to evade his kiss, but he held her chin between his fingers and found his mark, kissing her sweet-glossed lips until he had her full attention. She smelled like the hotel bubble bath, which didn’t surprise him since she’d soaked for a good hour after they returned to their suite. The skin of her bare shoulders was smooth as a river stone but a lot softer and warmer.
Allie made a small noise of protest in the back of her throat, and he reluctantly dragged his mouth from hers. “You’re beautiful.”
“I’m not-”
He cut her off with another kiss, this time cupping one breast in his hand. She had the most incredible breasts in the universe. “You’re beautiful,” he said again. “Are you questioning my judgment and taste?”
“But you just-”
“Yes, I want to take you to bed. Do you think I take ugly women to bed?”
That made her laugh. “Probably not as a rule.”
“Okay, then.”
“So looks are the only criteria?” she asked.
“That is another argument entirely, and I’m not prepared to educate you on my dating and bedding criteria. Suffice it to say I want to take you to bed, and not only because you’re beautiful.”
“What other reason is there?” she asked as he kissed her neck.
“It might surprise you to know that I’m attracted to women who have both beauty and brains. And passion. And a sense of humor. If all I cared about was looks, I could have had Candy.”
Allie stiffened in his arms. “It’s not too late.”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse. I want you. Not Candy.”
She put her arm around his neck and stared into his eyes, her moist lips slightly parted, her gaze heavy-lidded. “Then let’s ditch the party.”
“Duty before pleasure, my lovely. But now we have something to look forward to, yes?”
He kissed her one more time, for good measure, and this time she gave as good as she got. He released her only reluctantly. “You might want to touch up your lipstick.”
“You might also.”
THE YACHT CLUB PARTY was on the top floor of one of Houston’s most elegant hotels, complete with crystal chandeliers and roaming, tuxedoed wait staff bearing trays of champagne and caviar hors d’oeuvres. Such events were old hat to Cooper, but not Allie. He enjoyed watching her face as she took it all in, her eyes as wide as a child’s on Christmas morning.
“You might want to close your mouth before the flies get in,” he whispered in her ear. He’d slid an arm around her waist the moment they’d stepped off the elevator and he intended to keep her by his side. If any predatory men at this party thought they could make a meal of Allie, he would be sure they knew she was his.
No, not his. He suspected Allie would never belong to any man, especially not him. But so long as they were partners, she was under his protection and no one was going to take advantage of her.
Allie clamped her mouth closed. “I’m underdressed.”
She was the most beautiful woman in the room, but he’d told her that sort of thing enough for one night. “You look fine.” He snagged two glasses of champagne and handed one to Allie.
She took an experimental sip. “Wow.”
“This definitely isn’t the stuff you can buy for $5.99 a bottle at the corner liquor store,” he agreed after his own taste.
“I want to try the snacks,” she said. “I’m guessing they’re something special, too.” She looked around. “No one else is eating. Maybe rich people think it’s gauche to actually eat at a party.”
He wasn’t sure if the “aw shucks” act was real, or if she was subtly taking a dig at him, reminding him of the difference in their backgrounds. “You can eat the snacks and no one will think you’re gauche as long as you take small bites and don’t stuff extras down your cleavage for later.”
“No need for that. I’m so hungry I’ll probably eat everything in sight.” Despite her threat, she got herself a plate from a buffet line, then only put two small canapés on it. She tasted one, then another, looking thoughtful.
“What’s the verdict?” he asked.
“I’ll stick to the champagne,” she said. “I can make better appetizers than these.”
“Really?” Again, he considered what a boon it would be if Allie could work for him-long-term, not just until the Dragonfly was back in the water.
She shrugged. “If I can get the right ingredients and I have time.”
“What about cooking facilities?” he asked. “Are the Dragonfly’s adequate for fancy cooking?”
Another shrug. “There’s an oven, a grill and a cooktop, a few pans and utensils. A gourmet seven-course meal is beyond my capabilities, but I can do better than cold cuts. Why are you asking me this? ’Cause much as I love to cook, you aren’t demoting me to galley slave.”
“Don’t get all defensive on me. I’m just wondering what is and isn’t possible. Our brochures do say something about gourmet food.”
“And I did caution you about making
excessive promises.”
They couldn’t continue the argument because Jim Jameson, president of the yacht club, had spotted Cooper and was making a beeline for him. Stuck to his arm was an obvious trophy wife, maybe thirty years old to his fifty-plus.
“Remington!” he bellowed. “Glad you could make it. And this must be your girl.”
Cooper felt Allie stiffen beside him even as she extended a hand toward the other man.
“I’m Allie Bateman, Cooper’s partner,” she corrected gently.
Jim smiled slyly as he took Allie’s hand and, rather than shaking it, brought it to his lips. “Oh, I get it. You all have one of those modern arrangements. Don’t want to be tied down, eh?”
Allie snatched her hand back, her green eyes sparkling dangerously. “No, Mr. Jameson, I don’t believe you do get it. Cooper and I are business partners. I’m not his wife or girlfriend or plaything.”
Cooper cringed inwardly. Although it was refreshing to see Allie go off on someone besides Cooper for a change, Jim Jameson wasn’t someone she should be insulting. The man was powerful, a millionaire half-a-dozen times over, and he could open doors for them.
Thankfully, Jim didn’t seem to be easily offended. “Of course, of course,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply anything unseemly. You two come with me, there’s people I want you to meet.” He offered Allie his arm, and she reluctantly took it, giving Cooper an annoyed eye roll over her shoulder as she and Jim walked off, leading the way. Cooper gave his arm to the trophy wife and followed.
The next few minutes were given over to meeting and greeting some of the Gulf Coast Yacht Club’s elite. Once Allie relaxed a bit, she became the belle of the ball. A few of the men had heard of her, as females running fishing charters were pretty rare. She didn’t seem ill at ease, even when confronted by wives dripping in diamonds who sensed her lack of sophistication and, perhaps feeling threatened by her youth and beauty, tried to put her down.
But she didn’t let them get to her. Her small-town ways were charming, and Cooper found himself silently cheering her on as she made friends of the women and impressed the men with her knowledge of sailing and fishing.
She managed to subtly turn away flirtations without ruffling any feathers, which left Cooper feeling more relieved than he ought to. If she met some billionaire playboy who could set her up on her own boat, it would soften the blow of losing the Dragonfly-if she did lose. Maybe she’d even release her claim on the boat. But the thought of Allie in the arms of another man made his blood turn to steam.
He never should have slept with her. Now that he had, though, it was like Pandora’s box. He couldn’t put the lid back on.
Even as these thoughts chased through his head, Cooper did his best corporate networking, exchanging his newly printed business cards with other boat owners. As Allie had pointed out, people who owned yachts probably weren’t their target customers. But they might very well have friends who were.
By ten o’clock the party was in full swing, but Allie looked tired and Cooper took pity on her. They had another full day ahead of them. He extricated her from a group of younger women she appeared to be bonding with; they said a few goodbyes and slipped out.
“Thank God,” she said, leaning against the elevator wall and closing her eyes. “That was exhausting.”
“You didn’t enjoy it?”
She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I’m not really a party girl. I guess I prefer my own company to just about anyone else’s.”
“Not too many people can say that.”
“A lot of people are scared to be alone with themselves, so they fill every spare minute with parties and drinking, TV, talking on the phone, shopping, cruising the Internet. But give me a quiet morning anchored in a deserted cove, just me and the ocean and sky and maybe a few seabirds. That’s when you really find out who you are.”
“You paint a pretty picture. Only one problem with it.”
She opened her eyes to look at him. “What’s that?”
“No man in it.”
“I don’t need a man.”
“Last night says you do.”
She backed away from him. “Last night was…unusual.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
The elevator doors opened onto the hotel lobby and Allie scurried out. She refused to meet his gaze as they waited under the hotel canopy for the valet to bring around his car. She continued to look uncomfortable as he drove the few blocks back to their own hotel.
All day he’d been looking forward to tonight, when he could have Allie all to himself again, naked and burning with passion in his bed. But her current attitude didn’t bode well for his plans.
It seemed she was having second thoughts.
The valet opened her door, and she stepped out and thanked him with a dazzling smile. She could have been a princess instead of a tomboy boat captain. She walked ahead of him toward the hotel’s revolving door, and he noticed the light dusting of freckles on her shoulders.
The curve of her bare back made his mouth go dry.
Nothing more was said until he unlocked the door to their suite.
“Well, we’ve got a long day ahead of us,” Allie said with false brightness. “I’m going to bed.”
“Whoa, wait a minute.”
She skidded to a stop. “What?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something? Didn’t we go to the party looking forward to when it was over?”
“You caught me in a weak moment. You know us having sex is a bad idea.”
He sighed. “If that’s how you feel. We could at least sit down and unwind. Maybe have a glass of wine and talk about our strategy for tomorrow.”
“Talk? You really want to talk?”
Amazingly, if they couldn’t go straight to bed-together-he did want to talk. Allie was one woman whose company he didn’t find tedious, who didn’t talk endlessly about shopping and TV shows he didn’t watch and the love lives of people he didn’t know and what her latest body-mass-index reading was at the health club.
“What I really want is to take you to bed and make love to you all night. But I get the distinct feeling that’s not in the cards.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she turned to face him. “Cooper, please. I don’t want to turn you down. In fact, I’m not sure I can. You’re too persuasive. So could you just cut me some slack and not push it?”
He sighed again, louder this time. If she’d played coy, he might have enjoyed the challenge of chasing her. But he couldn’t now, not when she looked like she was about to cry.
“Okay,” he said agreeably, as if it didn’t matter that much to him. “I’d still like a glass of wine to relax. How about you?”
She flashed him a cautious smile. “Sure.”
When they were settled comfortably in the living area-him in a chair, her on the sofa-with cold glasses of Chablis from the minibar, Cooper finally felt the tension seeping out of his muscles.
“Don’t worry, I intend to honor your wishes,” he said. “But I would like to know why you don’t want to spend the night with me.”
“Cooper. Surely you don’t need me to explain this to you. We are technically enemies who have called a temporary truce. There’s no future in you and me. Yes, I’ve been alone for a while, but I’m not desperate enough to compound last night’s mistake with more of the same.”
He lifted his glass to her. “Thank you for explaining all that to me. But I have never once thought of you as desperate.” In fact, he was the desperate one. Because the longer he sat there looking at but not touching Allie, the more he wanted her.
It shouldn’t matter. Why did it matter?
“Do you regret last night?” he asked her.
She looked down. “Last night we were in unusual circumstances.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
After a moment she looked back at him, holding his gaze so long that he finally had to look away. “No,” she said. “I don’t regret it. We we
re carried away, and I can forgive myself for that. Once.”
“More than once, if memory serves.”
He could have sworn a bit of fire flared in her green eyes.
“Don’t get technical on me.”
If he set down his wine, stood, walked the three steps that separated them and pulled her out of that chair and into his arms, would she still deny him? He had a feeling the answer was no. But he’d told her he wouldn’t push, and if he went back on his word he would just confirm every stereotype she harbored about dishonest, conniving, self-serving lawyers in general and him in particular. He had a responsibility to uphold the image of lawyers everywhere.
Right.
He gulped the rest of his wine in two swallows. Might as well face it, nothing was going to cool his ardor while Allie was within his range of vision wearing that dress. He wasn’t sure whether to thank Sara or curse her for convincing him to buy it even though Allie had nixed it.
Standing up, he set down his glass. “Guess it’s good night, then. I’ll order breakfast for about seven.”
She nodded and cleared her throat.
He turned, took two steps, then stopped. Had Allie’s eyes been shiny with tears? Surely not. But his feet remained rooted to the spot. He couldn’t bear it if he’d made her cry.
Slowly he peeked at her over his shoulder. She had her head down, her hands clasped in her lap, her breasts rising and falling in a too-quick rhythm to be natural breathing.
Damn it.
He was at her side and down on one knee in two seconds. “Allie, baby, what’s wrong?”
“N-nothing. Go away.”
“I won’t. Did I say something wrong?”
She took a deep, broken breath. “N-no. You said everything right. You did exactly what I asked you to do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem…” She looked up at him, her eyes swimming in tears. “The problem is me. I’m weak and an idiot to boot.”
