Bay of Rainbows

by Dana James

  Polly gaped at him. ‘What? Why not?’

  His smile was patient—lethal. ‘It’s very simple. You threatened to leave. I’m not ready to let you go.’

  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. ‘But you can’t—’

  ‘Polly,’ he shook his head, ‘I’m a pirate, remember? I can do anything I want.’

  Speechless, her heart racing, Polly clung to the wheel. Already her sailing ability had reached a level where she was able to make the minor corrections to hold the boat on course without even thinking.

  ‘You can’t force me—’

  ‘I’ll never force you to do anything against your will.’

  ‘You won’t let me get off,’ she countered.

  ‘That’s different.’ Nathan frowned at her. ‘Have you forgotten? When I paid your bail you were released into my custody. If you leave the boat, except in my company or with my express permission, you’ll be breaking the law. Besides, we made a deal in Gibraltar. It’s not negotiable.’ The cold note of finality in his voice warned her not to pursue the matter.

  ‘What about fresh water? And food? And fuel?’ she demanded, clutching at straws. His admission that his distance and antipathy had, in reality, been a vain attempt to fight his attraction to her had totally unnerved her. She was being drawn into ever more dangerous waters by the profound attraction she felt towards him.

  ‘We have enough,’ he replied calmly. ‘Switch the engine on to charge.’ He turned towards the companionway.

  Polly’s grip on the wheel tightened as, head and heart in raging conflict, she sought wildly for some means of escape. Was that smudge off to the left the island of Ibiza? Once he went below, if she turned the boat in that direction, just a few degrees at a time, would he notice?

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Nathan warned.

  She started, her indrawn breath a soft hiss. She hadn’t realised he was still there, still watching her. Turning her head away, she closed her eyes. How had he known?

  ‘Who are you running from, Polly?’ he asked quietly. ‘Me? Or yourself?’ Without waiting for an answer he disappeared down the ladder.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘Shouting at me isn’t a lot of help,’ Polly blazed, flinging pencil and ruler down on the chart spread over the tray balanced on her knee, then lifting her head to glare at him.

  Nathan straightened up. Holding Seawitch on course with one hand, he pushed the other through hair already rumpled by previous displays of frustration. ‘Well, how many more times do I have to explain it?’ he roared.

  ‘As many as it takes for me to understand,’ Polly shouted back. ‘Going all autocractic and impatient won’t drum it in any quicker.’ The warm breeze did nothing to cool her flushed cheeks. ‘You might be a brilliant designer, Nathan, and I’m sure you know everything there is to know about sailing. But you’re a lousy teacher!’

  His features hardened into an expressionless mask, but not before she had glimpsed an instant’s pure shock.

  ‘Would you care to elaborate?’ he gritted.

  Polly felt her stomach nerves flutter uneasily, but she had come too far and put up with too much to back down now. ‘To be a successful teacher it’s not enough simply to know. You have to have the ability to put that knowledge across.’

  ‘Are you saying I don’t?’ he enquired in a dangerously soft voice that slid down her spine like melting ice.

  But she wasn’t going to let him browbeat her. He was far too used to people backing down and deferring to him. She gave a careless shrug. ‘No one’s brilliant at everything.’ That was as far as she was going towards conciliation.

  His eyes glittered fiercely. ‘Of course, it does help if the student has more than one brain cell.’

  ‘Now isn’t that just typical?’ Polly’s mouth curled. ‘Blaming me for your own inadequacy.’

  They glowered at one another for several seconds. Then she braced herself, heaving a deep sigh. ‘Right,’ she said wearily, ‘let’s go through it again.’

  ‘We’ll have some coffee first,’ Nathan decided. But as Polly automatically started to put the chart aside he gestured to her to remain where she was. ‘No, I’ll get it. You take the wheel for a spell.’ He disappeared down the ladder.

  This had been the pattern of the past two days. Polly recognised Nathan’s insistence on her learning how to navigate as an attempt to keep the lid on a situation which was escalating rapidly out of control.

  Relieved yet disappointed, and furious at her own inconsistency, Polly jumped at the chance to learn a new skill. She was desperate to keep her mind fully occupied. She wanted to be so busy she wouldn’t have either time or energy to wonder about him, to dream, or hope.

  Of course, it didn’t turn out like that. Working so closely together made her more aware of him, not less. But, despite the electric atmosphere, they were beginning to function as a team. She was keen to learn, and his trust in her had grown to the point where they alternated the night watches so both had the opportunity for more rest.

  Not that she was sleeping all that well. Nor, from the sounds of tossing and turning that drifted up through the deck hatch in the quiet dark hours of her watch, was Nathan. But neither spoke of it.

  He had made no attempt to kiss her again—in fact, he seemed deliberately to avoid getting too close to her at all. But occasionally, when her guard slipped and she allowed her eyes to meet his, she saw in his gaze the mingled hostility and desire which reflected all too accurately her own conflicting emotions

  Even when one of them was on deck and the other below there was no escape. They were still prisoners of the attraction which, under the guise of antipathy, had arced between them the moment Nathan had entered the Customs office.

  Balanced lightly on the balls of her feet, Polly turned the wheel a few degrees as Seawitch heeled over. Wearing her navy shorts and a jade-green polo shirt, she felt cool and fresh. Wind and sun had gilded her arms and legs honey-brown, hiding the last of the fading bruises. She felt physically fitter and more alive than she could ever remember. Only the violet shadows beneath her eyes, so out of place in her tanned and glowing face, hinted at the emotional upheaval she was enduring.

  Thin streaks of high cloud trailed across an azure sky. A fresh breeze curled the tops of the waves into tiny frills of foam that glistened white on the sapphire sea.

  Polly licked her lips. They tasted salty from the fine spray Seawitch threw into the hazy air as she dug her elegant nose into the waves before tossing them aside.

  Nathan emerged from the companionway with two mugs of coffee. He passed one to Polly but, instead of taking over the helm again, seated himself in her usual corner of the cockpit, stretching his long legs out and crossing his ankles.

  Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, she forced herself not to look at him. ‘Shall I bring my mattress and sleeping-bag up in a minute? They’re still not dry.’

  Nathan squinted up at the masthead, then gazed into his coffee-mug. ‘No. There’s not enough room with both of us up here. And with all the spray flying around they’d get even wetter.’

  ‘But surely with this breeze,’ she started, ‘and the sun’s really hot . . .’

  ‘No.’ It was cold and final.

  ‘OK.’ Turning her head, Polly sipped her coffee and gazed out over the expanse of water. ‘But we can’t count on this weather lasting. And this is the second day you’ve refused to let me bring my bedding up. It’ll never dry at this rate.’

  He glared at her, his features taut. ‘Polly, the last thing I want right now is an argument about beds.’

  She flushed. ‘It’s just—well, I’d have thought you’d be glad to have your cabin to yourself.’

  ‘What’s the matter? Aren’t you comfortable?’ he demanded, his voice harsh.

  ‘Of course I am. It’s not that.’ The bed was wonderfully comfortable, the pillows soft, and the sleeping-bags light but warm as toast. In fact, it was far more welcoming than the bed in her flat. ‘But—‘


  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’ She looked away, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the breeze.

  ‘No, tell me. I insist.’

  She swivelled round, bristling at his tone.

  His mouth twisted in a brief grin of self-mocking apology. ‘Please?’

  Polly shrugged. She had to swallow before she could reply. ‘I’m—I’m not used to sharing, that’s all.’

  Nathan’s laugh was short and hard. ‘Sharing? We’re never even in the damned cabin at the same time.’

  That was true. Since the night he kissed her he had woken her for her watch by hammering on the deckhead until she shouted that she was on her way. And he was always up before it was time for her to call him.

  ‘You know what I mean.’ Polly’s voice was anguished. Sliding into the warmth he had just left, inhaling the scent of him on the pillows, surrounded by his clothes, books and possessions, she could feel her resolve to keep him at arm’s length ebbing relentlessly away.

  She kept reminding herself of the stories about him in the gossip columns, of his reputation as a womaniser. But working with him each day, learning from him, trying to hide her glowing pleasure when grudging approval replaced irritation and impatience in his piercing gaze, the warnings grew fainter and fainter.

  ‘C—could you take the wheel?’ she asked. I—I just want to go below for a moment.’

  Silently he drained his mug and, rising to his feet, handed it to her. As she turned away he gently caught the nape of her neck with his free hand.

  His touch lanced through her like a lightning bolt, clenching every muscle and tightening every nerve before filling her with liquid heat.

  ‘Don’t go,’ he said softly. ‘Stay and talk to me.’

  She didn’t look round. She didn’t dare. ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she managed.

  He took his hand away, but as she stumbled down the ladder she could still feel its warm weight.

  In the shower-room she rinsed her face with cold water. As she dried, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She lowered the towel slowly. Haunted eyes stared back at her. What was she to do? If only she could get right away from him for a while, then she’d be able to cope. She’d get all these wild ridiculous yearnings under control. She’d be able to view the whole episode in perspective: see it for what it was, a brief flirtation brought about by proximity, boredom, and lack of alternative company.

  Misery darkened her gaze. She had to face facts. She was already in way over her head. Nathan Bryce had woken in her feelings she hadn’t known existed.

  She had thought she was in love with Giles, but he had never aroused this heady excitement in her, or made her skin tingle when he came anywhere near. He had never caused her breath to catch in her throat or her mouth to dry with a mixture of hope and dread that he might reach for her.

  When they first met, Giles had made her feel special, cherished and cared for. But because she had not felt ready to go to bed with him he had punished her by trying to destroy her self-confidence. And he had very nearly succeeded.

  With Nathan it had all happened the other way around. In spite of their mutual dislike and hostility, he had helped her discover abilities and a depth of feeling she hadn’t dreamed she possessed.

  Never before had she argued so passionately with a man, hating him and wanting him with an intensity that frightened her. She was exhausted yet filled with so much energy she couldn’t keep still.

  ‘Nathan,’ she whispered. Closing her eyes briefly, she bent her head, clutching the basin with both hands. Drawing a deep breath, she straightened her spine. Wanting what you couldn’t have was a waste of time. Nathan Bryce was attracted to her, but that was all. She had to accept that. Just as she had to accept that, for her, it would never be enough.

  Swallowing the stiffness in her throat, she folded the towel neatly on to the rail and combed her hair. Then, with a final glance in the mirror, reassured that she had her wayward emotions once more under control, she left her tiny sanctuary.

  As she stepped out on to the deck, Nathan gave her a brief smile. At the corners of his mouth and around his eyes Polly saw echoes of her own strain. Banishing the tug of sympathy, she looked away quickly.

  ‘We’ll make land in a few hours,’ he told her.

  She gazed at him in surprise. ‘How? Where?’ Since steering clear of Ibiza, he had refused to tell her where their next port of call would be.

  He pointed ahead through the haze to a darker smudge on the horizon. ‘That’s Sicily.’

  Standing close alongside him following the direction of his outstretched arm, Polly felt the skin all down her left side prickling as if static electricity was leaping between them.

  ‘We’ll land at Marsala, a sea- and fishing-port on the south-western coast. It’s renowned for its wine. Of course,’ he added drily, ‘that wouldn’t interest you at all. But the markets have wonderful fruit and vegetables and an amazing variety of fresh fish.’

  She moistened her lips. ‘And we’re actually going ashore? Both of us?’

  Nathan glanced at her. ‘It wouldn’t be wise to try and run away.’ His eyes were cold blue steel. ‘There’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t find you.’ Tightening the mainsail, he continued pleasantly, ‘Just behind the old port there’s a restaurant that serves swordfish steaks with a herb and lemon dressing that’s out of this world. We’ll eat there tonight. It’ll save you having to cook. Not that I’ve any complaints on that score,’ he added. ‘I’ve never eaten as well as I have on this trip.’

  ‘There’s no need to sound quite so surprised,’ Polly sniffed, her head still beating fast. ‘There’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t find you’. ‘I told you I could cook.’

  ‘You also told me—allowed me to believe—that you could sail,’ he responded immediately.

  ‘I’m learning,’ she shot back. ‘And I bet I’ve absorbed more about seamanship than you would have about cooking.’

  ‘Which presumably makes me the better teacher,’ he returned with a dryness that made her want to pummel him with her fists from sheer frustration. ‘Tell me something,’ he demanded before she could speak. ‘Why don’t you have a permanent job? You’re brainy—’

  Polly’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What? With only one functioning grey cell?’

  He silenced her with a look. ‘As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you’re intelligent as well as beautiful. You could have built a substantial career.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. Which made me the family oddity.’

  She sat down in her usual corner. She needed distance between them as she fought to smother a treacherous joy that he should think her beautiful. She had never considered herself so. Yet his manner made it clear that he was simply stating a fact, not flattering with a compliment. And that made it all the more thrilling, especially when she recalled some of the women he’d been photographed with.

  ‘Explain.’ Nathan’s tone was a blend of command and encouragement.

  Polly shrugged. ‘Both my parents are high achievers. And my two sisters had their futures planned by the time they were ten. Louise is a GP and Sarah is a brilliant pianist. My parents are terribly proud of them. Mother’s cup really overflowed last year when Louise had her third child and Sarah married a famous conductor.’

  The sardonic grin that twisted Nathan’s mouth was tempered by the unexpected sympathy in his eyes. ‘Obviously you attended the wedding.’

  Startled by his understanding, Polly nodded and pulled a wry face. ‘It bore a fair resemblance to the Spanish Inquisition. All the relations fired the same questions at me. It was almost funny. When was I going to get a proper job, and if I didn’t, or couldn’t, when was I going to get married and settle down.’

  Nathan’s expression was unreadable. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘What I believe. That getting married and having children shouldn’t be something you do because your family thinks it’s a goo
d idea, or because you’re not much good at anything else.’

  ‘Why not? It’s the ultimate aim for most women.’

  ‘How would you know?’ Polly was derisive.

  ‘Come on!’ His tone matched hers. ‘I’m thirty-six years old. I’m single. And I have a job which keeps me in the public eye. I’m a prime target.’

  Images of the girls in the office, the flutter of female interest and appreciation at the presentation, and the response of the woman in the ladies’ room at the restaurant in Gibraltar flashed across Polly’s mind.

  ‘No one’s caught you yet, though,’ she pointed out, her throat oddly dry.

  ‘True.’ His smile had a bitter edge. ‘The kind of childhood I had tends to make you wary of trusting people. Besides, it’s not me they want, it’s the glamorous, high-profile media image. What’s your excuse?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Avoiding marriage.’

  She shot him a look of exasperation. ‘I haven’t exactly been overwhelmed with proposals,’ she retorted, ‘not of marriage, anyway. But in any case, I felt I needed to know who I was first.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘Know myself?’ Polly’s crooked smile masked a stab of painful yearning. ‘I’ve learned more than I expected,’ she admitted. Or was prepared for.

  He looked hard at her for a moment, and she tensed. But he didn’t press for an explanation. ‘So what are the benefits of being a temporary secretary?’

  ‘Apart from earning very good money, I find the work interesting and a challenge.’

  ‘You enjoy the constant change and variety?’ His glance was brief and enigmatic.

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. They were talking about her job, she reminded herself. Nothing else, just her job. So why was she beginning to feel nervous?

  ‘What about children?’

  She blinked, thrown by the sudden change of subject. ‘What about them?’

  ‘Don’t you want some of your own?’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it,’ she lied, shielding her eyes with one hand as she tilted her head back to look at clouds like cotton wool balls racing overhead.