by Leanne Banks
As he mercilessly plundered her mouth, Katherine was lost to everything but him. She felt a clench deep inside her, increasing waves of sensation that threatened to drown her with their intensity.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned, tearing herself from his arms.
Utterly and completely humiliated, she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away gasping for air. For God’s sake, what was wrong with her? All he’d done was kiss her.
“Katherine,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
She jerked away. “No! Don’t touch. Don’t talk. Just leave me alone.” She heard the huskiness in both their voices, felt his uneven breath on her shoulder, and nearly cried.
“But you’re upset.”
“I’ll be okay. Just give me a minute alone.”
He paused. “I can’t leave you like this. Not after—”
“Let’s not talk about it,” she said desperately. She cringed at the intimacy between them. He was too experienced not to know how aroused she’d been.
“Look at me, Katherine.”
There it was again, the note of command in his voice.
When she looked up at him, his hair was ruffled by the wind, his dark eyes blazing with blunt desire. His cheeks flared with the dusky flush of passion. And as she looked at his swollen lips, she touched her own.
“You’re not alone,” he said.
She almost believed him. “Maybe not at this moment, but eventually I will be. It always ends that way.” The breeze cooled her face and gave her strength. “I’m just an ordinary woman who will end up getting hurt.” She paused, shaking her head. “I don’t know much about you, Al Sanders, but I know you’re not like other men.”
His eyes flickered, then narrowed. The warmth of passion faded to something cold and bleak.
He’s angry, she thought. He might even be hurt. The notion didn’t sit well. She tried to say something but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t leave her too vulnerable.
Al turned away, effectively dismissing her.
Something inside her compelled her to go after him. Don’t let him be lonely. But then she caught herself and forced herself to be still. This man could destroy her.
For several long moments Katherine watched him, her mind and heart pulling in opposite directions. Finally she turned away and walked up the beach, shivering the whole way home, wondering why she felt so empty.
The next morning Katherine focused on her upcoming appointment with James Logan. She persuaded Chad and one of her most dependable employees, Suzanne, to help out with the children. Katherine gave them a mile-long list of activities to do while she met with Mr. Logan.
James Logan was a clever, middle-aged resort owner who talked circles around Katherine’s sales spiel. He’d griped the entire time. She countered each of his criticisms of the campground with a positive statement.
He didn’t like the layout. He didn’t like the menu at lunch. He didn’t like the color of the paint in the cabins. Katherine just smiled and pointed out that beige didn’t show dirt.
He didn’t seem to like much of anything. When they’d concluded the excruciatingly thorough tour, he’d said, “I’ll call you.” Translated: You’ll never hear from me again.
Katherine was tired enough to be more relieved than disappointed. The only thing she wanted now was a six-hour bath. Her conscience chided her to check on how Suzanne and Chad were doing, so she hustled the rest of the way to the front porch. Pulling off the plastic poncho, Katherine laughed at her wet, mud-splattered appearance. “Give me a white flag,” she murmured to herself.
The sound of applause filtered through the wooden door. Curious, she opened it and caught sight of Chad and a group of little boys playing cards. They were chewing gum and swilling Kool-Aid. A sliver of unease sifted through her. Chad wouldn’t teach them poker, would he?
Noting the backs of the cards, Katherine relaxed. Old Maid.
She pushed the door open wider. The activity on the other side of the room stopped her midmotion. A lamp, minus its shade, perched on a low stool. A small army of boys and girls holding switches lunged and feinted as if sword fighting. Their movements created a dancing display of shadows on the far wall.
Al called out and showed them a movement. They stopped to watch, then, in unison, imitated his precision with childlike awkwardness.
“En garde,” he said in a commander’s voice.
“En garde,” they returned, and copied his bow.
A chill ran down her spine.
The whole scene carried an air of unreality. Al feinted and parried with his imaginary opponent, moving with agility and skill. His shadow looked larger than life. She could almost imagine him in times of old, protecting, defending, conquering.
His powerful body flexed with tension. His face was set with concentration. This was no game for him, Katherine sensed. It made her wonder about him. Who was he? Why was he here? What did he want from her?
He lunged and took the killing stroke through the heart of his victim. The room cheered. He turned, faced the crowd and gave a brief bow.
Chad came up beside her.
Katherine forced her gaze to her brother. “How’d it go?”
He shrugged. “Not bad. Big Napoleon here got everyone straight this morning.”
“Big Napoleon?”
Chad grinned, pleased with himself. “Yeah. It’s my new nickname for him. Pretty clever, huh?”
“Very clever,” Katherine said. “Have you shared it with Al?”
“Hell, no. I’m not an idiot. He’s great with a sword, and I’ve got strong survival instincts. Which,” he added darkly, “is why I didn’t drink any coffee this morning. Al fixed it, and it tasted like sh—” He broke off, glancing over his shoulder at the wide-eyed children who stood behind them. He lowered his voice. “Horrible. If you have an ounce of concern for my health or our coffeemaker, you’ll make it before he does.”
Katherine laughed. “Okay. I hear you.”
Chad looked at Al again. “We ought to get him to be a pirate in that skit we always used to do.” Chad paused. “He’s looking at you.”
Her chest tightened. “I’ll ask him about the skit,” she said. She didn’t want to look at Al. She was afraid that she would turn into a quivering mass of Jell-O.
“He’s still looking at you.”
“Thanks for telling me,” she muttered, resigning herself. Time to face the music, chickie. Anticipation is usually worse than reality, she told herself.
When she looked up and met his deep, dark gaze, though, her heart seemed to stop. Standing tall, with that sword in his hand, he looked every inch the conquering male. But his eyes were tentative, asking, not demanding, and her defenses melted like butter in the sun.
He held out his hand for her to join him.
She didn’t hesitate. She’d have to think about that later. She just walked forward and let him take her hand. He held it firmly and whispered in her ear, “How did it go with Logan?”
“Horrible,” she said, relieved he wasn’t going to refer to what had happened between them last night. “I—I didn’t know you could fence.”
His jaw tightened, but he kept his voice light. “There are many things you don’t know about me.”
Katherine trembled and pulled her hand away. She didn’t like the way she felt—light-headed, flushed, out of control. And he’d merely touched her hand. “How true,” she returned.
He must have felt her response. Al smiled slowly, all male confidence now. “You can trust me.”
Katherine shook her head. “I don’t know that.”
“You need me,” he insisted.
“Pirate Island needs you,” she corrected. “We’d like you to be a pirate in our Wednesday-night skit. The guests have missed it. Uncle Jasper always coordinated it before. We’ve got a bunch of new employees this year, so no one knows how to pull it off. You could coach the others in fencing, and Chad could direct.”
Al flicked the sword through the a
ir thoughtfully. She noticed it was one that had been hanging on the wall. “What do I get in return?” he finally asked.
Her chest felt tight at the look in his eyes. “What do you want?”
“Your trust.”
She shook her head automatically. He might as well ask for one of her lungs.
“No.” He lifted his shoulders in a masculine shrug. “What a shame. You’ll have to find someone else.”
Exasperation swept through her. “But—”
“You’re not being equitable. You want something from me when you’ll give me nothing.”
“I’ll pay you,” Katherine offered.
The children began to get restless. “Do the sword again, Mr. Al,” one called.
“Yeah, do it again,” another one said.
“It’s up to you,” Al said to Katherine.
The kids got louder, and Katherine vacillated. This was crazy. She hardly knew the man.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate.” He turned to the children. “That’s all for today, kids. Talk to Katherine if you want to learn more. She’s in charge.”
Past a chorus of moans and protests, she glared at him.
He grinned.
Fearing a riot, she grabbed his arm as he began to leave. “There’s got to be something else you want.” She cringed at how suggestive that sounded. “Something like Saturday nights off, or the use of my car.”
He thought it over for a moment and nodded. “Saturday nights off, yes. And the use of your car. Add one more thing.”
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“Answer my questions.”
Katherine was nonplussed. She’d been certain he’d ask for something more, perhaps something provocative.
“Katherine?” Al prompted.
Heat scorched her cheeks, and she drew a breath of thanks that he couldn’t read minds. Answering questions wasn’t difficult. After all, she’d led a pretty boring life except for her brief marriage, and she’d developed a pat uninformative response due to countless inquiries she’d received from reporters. It seemed harmless enough. Two children pulled on her leg and asked for cookies.
Katherine shrugged. “Fine.”
He gave her a devastating smile and garnered the attention of the entire room simply by clapping his hands together and picking up the sword. He had such a powerful, commanding presence that even she was awed. The cookies were forgotten, and Katherine wondered again what she’d just gotten herself into.
That evening Katherine skipped her late-night swim and watched a movie on television. Since Chad was in hot pursuit of Suzanne, Katherine and Al shared the evening together.
It should have been comfortable. After a long, hot bath and dinner, she should have been happy and relaxed. They both sat on the plaid sofa, she on one end, he on the other. But Al’s proximity unsettled her, and her gaze kept wandering to him.
His hair was damp and ruffled from a shower. He’d changed into a pair of khaki canvas shorts and a yellow pullover. There was nothing seductive about his clothing. Still, she noticed how the yellow of his shirt contrasted with his tanned skin. The gap left by his open collar hinted at the dark chest hair beneath.
Her gaze fell to muscled legs brushed with brown hair. His powerful thighs spread wide in a typically male position. Remembering how he’d felt pressed against her, she felt a rush of heat.
Mentally cursing, Katherine sighed and forced her attention back to the TV.
“Bored?” Al asked.
“No. I guess I’m just tired,” she said, keeping her gaze trained on the screen.
“You’ve earned it. You never told me what Logan had to say.” Al turned away from the TV and faced her.
“Now that would bore you.” Katherine smiled grimly.
“Are you welshing on our agreement?”
Katherine looked at him. He appeared displeased. “Welshing?”
“You agreed to answer my questions,” he pointed out.
“Oh.”
“I’m waiting.”
Katherine thought about making an early night of it, but her conscience won. She sighed again. “Okay, you want to hear about James Logan. Well, the man nearly drove me crazy.”
For the next half hour Katherine gave Al an earful, fully expecting him to yawn, excuse himself or fall asleep. Instead, he listened carefully, occasionally making suggestions or grinning at something she’d described. The movie forgotten, his attention was focused on her. The way his dark gaze fastened on her made her wish she was beautiful.
“You’ll have other options,” he assured her at the end of the conversation.
“I hope so. Thanks for listening.”
“Even though I had to push you to talk about it.”
Her smile broadened. “Yes. But speaking of questions, I’m curious. Where did you learn to fence? England?”
He looked away. “There are other places.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit England,” Katherine ventured. “Were you there on business?”
“Yes,” he said tersely. “I have another question.”
That brought her up short. “Oh.” At a temporary loss, she shrugged, expecting something about the campground. “Okay. What is it?”
He looked her over in a way that curled her toes into the sofa cushion. She fought the urge to fold her arms over her chest.
“Where are your lovers?” he finally asked in a rough voice.
Katherine’s eyes rounded. “What?” she choked.
“Your lovers,” he said impatiently, and stood. “A woman who looks like you, who acts like you, must have lovers. I’ve watched every man with you, but you don’t give off the signals of a woman involved with any of them.” He walked the length of the carpet as he tried to solve the quiz.
Speechless, she watched him with dumbfounded astonishment.
“I wondered about Rich.”
“Rich!”
Al continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “He watches you. He tries to find excuses to touch you. And when you leave, he mutters what a shame it is that you braid your hair. And if only you weren’t old Jasper’s niece.”
“Rich?” Katherine said again weakly. She’d had no idea the dockmaster felt that way.
“You don’t watch Rich.” Al planted his hands on his hips and stopped directly in front of her.
She shrank against the back of the sofa.
“The only free time you have is when you take your evening swims. Do you meet someone then?”
He asked the question imperiously, as if it were his God-given right to know. Indignation replaced shock. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped.
He scowled. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not going to.”
“You agreed,” he reminded her.
Katherine felt trapped. She took a deep breath. “So I did.” And did she ever regret it. “I do not meet anyone when I swim, because I want to be alone then.”
“Then where are your lovers, Katherine?”
Anger swept through her. She scooted off the sofa and around Al. “They’re not here!”
She couldn’t bring herself to say her lovers were nonexistent. The painful truth was that Katherine had never felt particularly confident of her ability to attract members of the opposite sex, and her disastrous marriage hadn’t helped matters.
Her resentment grew. She didn’t like her inadequacies thrown in her face. “Why are you asking me these questions? Are you trying to humiliate me? I know I’m not the type to win beauty contests, but do you have to rub it in?” Barely taking a breath, she continued, “Is that what last night was all about? Give Katie a little thrill. She needs it. Well, you can take your drop-dead good looks and your breath-stealing kisses somewhere else. Just leave me the hell alone.”
His expression of shock failed to penetrate her fury. She spun around to leave when her shoulder was grabbed roughly from behind.
Al turned her b
ack around and put a finger beneath her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. His eyes glinted with turbulent emotion. “I don’t call you Katie,” he told her in a low, velvet voice. “You asked me to call you Katherine.”
In spite of her anger, her heart softened a fraction. She’d noticed he called her Katherine. She preferred it. “Yes,” she conceded, and let out a breath.
“Mon Dieu! I can’t begin to understand any of this nonsense about humiliating you.” He shook his head as if to clear the irrational thought from his mind, then narrowed his eyes. “As for last night, you felt my heat, and I felt yours. Last night was about me wanting you and you wanting me. If you have any doubts, I can demonstrate it more graphically.”
Her heart beat frantically. She felt her face burn. Unable to bear the intensity of his words, she looked away. Still, her hands rested on his bare, muscular arms, and she could feel his strength. Part of her wanted to lean into him, to test his power and feel his passion. But she didn’t trust him or herself.
Katherine was out of her depth. “Last night was an accident,” she said in a breathless voice.
“No, mon amie,” he assured her in a soothing male tone that sent awareness skittering through her. “Last night was just the beginning.”
She broke away, shaking her head frantically. “No. Absolutely not.”
Al stepped forward. “You’re scared.”
Katherine’s defenses rose three feet. “I don’t want this.”
“You want more than—”
Chad opened the back door and burst into the room. His face was a picture of disgust. “That Suzanne may be easy on the eyes, but she’s hell on the ego.”
Katherine latched on to his entrance as if it were a lifeline. “I’m going to bed. Lock up.” She walked toward her bedroom, calling “good night” over her shoulder.
Chad stared after her, then looked at Alex. “What’s her problem?”
Alex shrugged, searching for his next words. “Your sister’s a bit skittish.”
Nodding in agreement, Chad pulled off his wet jacket and let it drop to the floor.
Alex looked pointedly from the jacket to Chad.
