by Janet Dailey
She was asleep when Annette left the room twelve minutes later to meet Josh.
THE NEXT FEW DAYS they seemed intent on making up for lost time. They jogged together in the mornings before Josh went to his office, then met again in the evenings. Annette stubbornly ignored her father's disapproving looks and thinly veiled remarks of displeasure at her choice of escorts. Sometimes they went out and sometimes they stayed around the hotel—at the beach or on his boat.
This night, Josh had taken her into Wilmington on the mainland. As they strolled along, Josh held her hand loosely within the clasp of his. It was a somnolent evening, the lengthening shadows of a retiring sun spreading over the city.
“Getting hungry?” he asked.
Her answer was a nod, followed by, “You mentioned something about eating around here."
“The restaurant's just ahead of us.” Josh motioned toward a building they were approaching. “Do you like Mexican food?"
“I like tacos,” Annette replied with a teasing sparkle in her glance.
“That's as bad as saying you like chop suey when someone asks if you enjoy Chinese food,” he chided, but his look was warm with shared amusement.
“Do you mean there is more to Mexican food than tacos, enchiladas and refried beans?” She pretended to be surprised by the idea.
“Shall we go in and find out?” he challenged.
“Let's,” Annette agreed. “I'm starving."
Mariachi music was playing in the background as a hostess led them to a table. The air was filled with a spicy blend of food smells that whetted Annette's already aroused appetite. Sitting down in one of the brightly colored chairs, she opened the menu and skimmed the list. She paused and glanced up at Josh.
“I think you'd better make some suggestions,” she murmured.
“Why don't you trust me to order for you?” he suggested instead.
Annette hesitated, then agreed with a qualification. “All right, but tell me what it is."
The glint in his dark eyes mocked her, but he made no direct comment. He began his choice with guacamole salad, then a platter of assorted entrées so Annette could sample a variety. “Including the requisite taco,” he informed her.
“At least I won't starve.” She smiled her acceptance of his decision.
The order Josh gave the waiter included a carafe of sangría. The glasses that accompanied the chilled Spanish wine contained a speared slice of orange fruit and a stemmed maraschino cherry, which added to the fruity zest of the wine.
The emptiness of her stomach caused Annette to eye the fruit garnish hungrily. Finally, she gave up any attempt to resist it and slid the wine-soaked orange slice off its decorative spear to nibble on its pulp.
As her teeth sank into its orange flesh, her glance strayed to Josh. The raw hunger in his look centered on her juice-moistened lips as if he longed to devour them. The sensation was decidedly unnerving. It shivered through her, awakening her slumbering needs. She set the orange rind aside, inwardly aroused and unsettled by his looks.
“I wish you wouldn't look at me that way,” she murmured.
“What way?” Thick masculine lashes were partially lowered to screen the intensity of his gaze, but they didn't lessen his interest.
“As if you were eating me with your eyes,” Annette replied, and twirled the cherry by its stem, drowning it in the wine.
“I'd like to take a bite out of you,” Josh admired with too much ease.
“Little nibbles are better,” she replied, fully aware they were engaged in thinly disguised sexual banter. She flirted with him to conceal the fact she was affected by it.
“What are you going to do with that cherry?” His low question tied a knot in her stomach as her fingers stopped spinning the cherry in the wine.
“Do you want it?” Her tone wasn't as sophisticated as she wanted it to sound.
“What do you think?” He held her gaze and she felt the slow uncoiling of her tension under his steady look.
“You can have it.” Holding the cherry by its stem, she handed it to him.
Instead of taking it, his fingers circled her wrist and guided her hand to his mouth so that she ended up feeding him the cherry. A thousand sensations ran through her system until she felt her toes curling in reaction, but nervousness wasn't one of her feelings.
The waiter approached the table to serve their meal and Josh released his hold on her wrist. Their conversation shifted to less suggestive topics, but the previous one wasn't forgotten. It lingered on the edge of her consciousness throughout dinner and afterward.
Arriving at the hotel, Josh parked the car in his reserved space and switched off the engine. When he stepped out of the car, Annette waited in the passenger seat until he had walked around and opened her door. She accepted his hand to help her out. Josh held on to it, keeping her at his side while he shut the door.
When he made no move to leave the shadowed lot for the lighted walkways, her heart started skipping beats all over the place. He faced her, his hand settling on her hip while he curved the hand he was holding behind his back and released it. He bent his head and nuzzled her mouth, arousing a trembling need for his kiss.
“Kissing in cars isn't very satisfactory.” His low voice vibrated against her skin. “You can never get close enough."
Annette couldn't have agreed with him more as the weight of his body pressed her back against the side of the car. She was sandwiched between two unyielding shapes, the solid metal of the car and the living steel of his muscled form.
His mouth stopped teasing hers and parted her lips in driving possession. She could taste the heady blend of spicy food and fruity wine on his tongue, but Josh was feeding a different kind of hunger. And she echoed his need, incited by the hard male outline of his body imprinted on her soft flesh.
There was a roughness to the kisses he brushed over her neck and throat. His roaming hands were impatient with the restrictions placed upon them by her interfering clothes. Annette felt a similar frustration.
“This isn't enough for you, either, is it?” Josh demanded thickly.
“No.” She was shaken by her extreme wants and willing to admit them.
A faint shudder went through him as he lifted his head and framed her face in his hands. His breathing was raggedly disturbed and desire smoldered in his eyes. Annette gazed at him with raw wonder.
“Let's go to my suite.” The suggestion fell somewhere between a request and a command, insisting while giving her a choice.
“Yes.” She was vaguely stunned that she could sound so calm when she had just made a momentous decision.
She hadn't been aware of his inner tension until she noticed the line of his jaw relax and felt the pressure of his hands lighten. Josh let her go long enough to curve an arm around her waist and direct her toward the hotel buildings. The contact provided support for her weak legs. Her mind was so filled with Josh, Annette wasn't conscious of thinking about anything else.
Another couple were strolling arm in arm along the sidewalk they approached. At first Annette looked at them without really seeing the man and woman, until recognition forced itself into an awareness. A finger of discomfort ran down her spine as she met her father's look.
“You're back earlier than we expected, Annette.” His smile of greeting didn't reach his eyes. “I take it the two of you decided to have an early night."
“Not exactly. It's such a lovely evening we thought we'd walk around a bit.” She certainly couldn't tell her father that she had been on her way to Josh's suite.
“Kathleen and I had the same thought,” her father stated. “We can all go together."
With a sinking feeling, Annette looked at Josh with a questioning side-glance. The slight upward curve of his mouth held rueful humor and resignation.
“It sounds like a good idea,” he told her father.
The four of them wandered through the hotel grounds together. Annette couldn't ever remember a time when her father had appointed himself as her
chaperon on any dates. It seemed a little uncanny that he did it that night.
Chapter Seven
THE SAND WAS WARM beneath her as Annette leaned back on her hands and watched her small brother send the red Frisbee sailing through the air. Robby laughed in delight when Josh went chasing across the beach after it—all tanned sinewy legs and flatly muscled chest. The red disk landed in the sand. Josh scooped it up with one hand, spinning around in one movement and sailing it back in Robby's direction.
Her little brother tried to catch it and failed. When he tried to duplicate Josh's coordinated maneuver, he lost his balance and plopped on his bottom in the sand. Josh trotted over, panting slightly, and dropped down on one knee.
“Are you okay?” He lifted Robby to his feet and helped him brush off the sand.
“Yeah,” Robby mumbled, a little embarrassed by the fall, since he had been trying to show off.
Josh rumpled the boy's dark hair. “Let's both take a rest."
“I'm not tired,” Robby protested.
“But I am,” Josh grinned. “You can play in the sand awhile and I'll do the resting."
“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly to the suggestion.
While Robby went to get his sand bucket and shovel, Josh straightened and walked over to where Annette was sitting. Breathing out a tired sigh and smiling at the same time, he sank onto the beach beside her and clasped his arms around his knees. His gaze went back to Robby, busy packing sand into his bucket.
“I don't know where he gets the energy.” Josh shook his head in weary amazement and slid an amused glance at Annette. “Does he ever run down?"
“About eight-thirty every night,” she smiled. “I'm glad you didn't object to Robby's spending the afternoon with us."
Her father had taken Kathleen and Marsha shopping. Annette knew, from past experience, that Robby wasn't any fun to have along on shopping expeditions.
“Did you think I would?” he asked.
“No. But you could have."
She didn't mention her suspicion that this afternoon of baby-sitting her brother might have been concocted by her father. After last night's episode, she had the feeling he didn't want her to be alone with Josh. It was entirely possible that she was just imagining that, though.
Annette turned to lie on her stomach. She uncapped the bottle of suntan oil next to her beach towel and handed it to Josh. “Would you rub some on my back?"
“With pleasure."
Crossing her hands in front of her, she rested her cheek on them. An involuntary shiver danced over her skin when Josh dribbled the cool oil along her spine. His hands began spreading it around, gliding silkily over her back, almost caressing.
She closed her eyes as his strong fingers kneaded her shoulders, feeling her muscles relax under his gentle massage. “You can keep that up for at least another hour,” she murmured.
“I can, huh?” His voice half challenged her. “I might get carried away with what I'm doing."
His mock warning was given credence when his hands shifted their attention to the sides of her rib cage. His fingertips made discreetly tantalizing forays under the edge of her white swimsuit to investigate the swelling curve of her breasts.
“You remind me of a slice of golden brown toast,” Josh remarked. “All crisp and firm on the outside and soft and doughy in all the right places."
The rubbing motion ended as he drew away. Annette murmured a protest, but he playfully slapped her behind. “No more,” he declared as she rolled onto her side in startled surprise, covering the stinging portion of her bottom with her hand.
“That hurt,” she complained, even though the stinging sensation had already subsided.
“Shall I kiss it and make it better?” Josh teased, and caught Annette without a comeback.
Robby picked that opportune moment to join them. “Are you rested?” he inquired of Josh.
“Why don't you give me a few more minutes?” Josh asked.
“Okay,” Robby sighed, and trotted off.
Annette watched him go, then glanced sideways at Josh. “Robby likes you."
Josh glanced after Robby, too, then back. One knee was bent, an arm resting on top of it. His other leg was stretched out on the sand, an arm braced behind him in support.
“Robby likes anybody who will play Frisbee with him,” Josh replied.
“No.” Annette shook her head. “He likes you. Robby is like me. He has an instinct for people. I've never known him to be wrong about anyone.” She eyed Josh, admiring not just the outer man but the inner one, as well. “You'd be a good father."
“Is that right?” He turned to her, the arm leaving his knee to curve behind the middle of her back and pull her to him. He stopped when her swimsuit-covered breasts brushed against his chest. “Would you be interested in having my baby?” He asked the question against her lips and let them answer him by surrendering to the possession of his.
Love seemed to create an explosion of light inside her, spraying its brightness through every corner of her body. She wasn't conscious of Josh lowering her shoulders to the sand while he leaned over her to keep the intimate linkage of the kiss. She was dazed and aching when he dragged his mouth from hers. Dimly she heard the laughter and shouts of other bathers on the beach.
“I swear you are a witch,” Josh accused her on a disturbed note.
“If I am, you must be a warlock,” she murmured, because she knew how strong the spell had been, blocking out their surroundings—everything.
“We'll have dinner in my suite tonight,” he stated.
For once, Annette didn't object to her lack of option. She simply nodded a silent acknowledgment of his plans. His gaze darkened at the movement, then he was letting her go to sit up.
“I think I'd better see what Robby is doing,” Josh suggested dryly, indicating his awareness that the situation between them had grown too intense.
THERE WERE WITNESSES to the kiss other than the uninterested bathers on the beach. Poised on the steps overlooking the stretch of sand, Jordan Long stood watching. The line of his jaw and mouth was hard as iron. His gray eyes had darkened to a charcoal blackness. Kathleen and Marsha were on either side of him. Marsha was eyeing him with apprehension while Kathleen viewed him with resigned tolerance.
He pivoted away from the scene. “Come on,” he instructed them to accompany him. “We're going to our rooms."
“I thought we were going to let Annette know that we were back,” Kathleen said, reminding him of their purpose in coming to the beach area.
“Not right now we're not. I'm liable to kill him with my bare hands.” Jordan was rigid with parental outrage. “Did you see the way he kissed her?” he demanded.” Right out there in public!"
“Jordan,” Kathleen attempted to reason with him patiently as they started toward their rooms, while Marsha trailed behind, out of range of her father's temper. “You have kissed me on a public beach before."
“Yes, I did! And you know damn well what I suggested afterward, too!” he reminded her with angry force.
“You are a hypocrite, Jordan.” Kathleen couldn't help smiling at his indignation, although she tried not to let it show. “You want your daughters to do as you say, not as you do."
He stopped to confront her, his temper not improved by the glimmer of a smile in her expression. “I suppose you think I'm wrong,” he challenged, “because I don't want my daughter seduced by some playboy."
“It isn't a question of whether you are right or wrong for being upset,” she reasoned. “Annette is twenty years old now. There are some decisions you can't make for her anymore. It's time you started trusting her to make the right ones for herself."
“Trust Annette?” Jordan scoffed. “That girl gets herself into more trouble on purpose than most girls do accidentally. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't have some hare-brained scheme in mind right now. That worries me almost more than Joshua Lord does!"
“You're just guessing that she might.” But Kathleen didn't de
ny the possibility.
Jordan swung his head around to pin Marsha with a look. She had been trying to be unobtrusive, but he hadn't forgotten she was there.
“What do you know about what's going on?” he demanded, aware that his younger daughter found it impossible to conceal anything for long, especially without Annette around to bolster her.
“Nothing like what you're thinking,” she answered nervously.
His eyes narrowed. “And what am I thinking?"
“I don't know.” She refused to speculate, but she did add an explanation of her remark. “I just meant that Annette and Josh haven't done anything.” When her father continued to regard her narrowly, Marsha forced herself to be more explicit. “He hasn't made love to her or anything like that."
“I should hope not!” The words fairly exploded from him. Then he tempered his voice to a less furious level. “Just exactly what has Annette told you about Joshua Lord?"
Marsha shifted uncomfortably and tried to avoid an answer before she settled for one she thought might mollify him. “She says she loves him."
“God, no.” He muttered the words and lifted his gaze heavenward.
“Jordan, don't you think you're overreacting?” Kathleen was beginning to get a little irritated with him. “Annette was bound to fall in love sometime. And I don't think she made a bad choice when she picked Joshua Lord to be that man."
“So far he hasn't proved it to me,” he retorted.
“He doesn't have to prove it to you!” Some of her auburn temper was letting itself be heard.
“That's where you're wrong!” Jordan snapped. “I intend to put a stop to this little affair before it goes any further!"
In the next second he was striding away, leaving Kathleen and Marsha standing on the sidewalk. Marsha looked worried when she met her stepmother's glance. Kathleen let out her anger in a long sigh.
“He's really upset, isn't he?” Marsha grimaced. “He shouldn't have taken it out on you."
“Yes, he should,” Kathleen smiled briefly. “Being a sounding board is also part of loving, although it isn't much fun. We are bound to disagree on occasions. This happens to be one of them, but it doesn't mean we love each other less because of it."
