Rough Harbor

by Andrea Stein

  “So you decided to open a restaurant?”

  “It’s really Tony’s. I’m just the silent partner. Plus I always get a table. And free appetizers.”

  She looked at him. “What about a percentage of the profits?”

  Noah laughed. “Tony said there wouldn’t be any. At least for a year. So I get free apps instead.”

  “I hope you made a better deal when you sold your company,” Caitlyn said. Her eyes were worried.

  Noah reached out and took her hand. He felt her wanting to take it back, felt the heat crawling up his skin, and not because she had been running.

  “Don’t worry; I did. I can afford to work on my passion projects now.”

  She laughed. “That sounds very Californian of you. Are you sure you want to move back East? I think we’re a little more serious-minded here.”

  Noah took a step closer to her, so that they were almost touching, not just his hand and her arm, but just inches away, face-to-face. He felt his breath quicken as he looked into the deep blue of her eyes, wanting to brush back a curl of the black hair that escaped from her cap, twine it around his fingers, feel its softness.

  Her back was against the solid bulk of the rock, and he had her caged by his arms. Her cheeks were flushed, and he could hear the heavy sounds of her breath. He took one hand and slowly undid the zipper of her fleece, exposing an ivory V of skin where her shirt dipped down.

  Caitlyn watched him, eyes locked with his. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but she wasn’t making a move. Noah took that as an invitation and trailed his fingertip against her exposed skin. Just skimming it along, but he saw her eyes flash and she convulsed.

  “You were saying something about being serious,” he whispered, leaning in over her. Even now she smelled clean, fresh, a hint of apple, maybe some wood smoke.

  “I don’t remember…” Her hands went up, running up his arms, tracing the breadth of his shoulders, coming to rest around his neck. She looked at him a moment, invitation in her eyes. Noah went for it, bringing his lips down to meet hers. She rose up to meet him, their lips joining. At first, it was slow and hesitant, but all of a sudden he wanted more, all of her, the part of Caitlyn he’d never gotten. He pushed her up against the rock, raising her up so she was on his level, letting him kiss her, harder now. He could feel her fingers running through his hair and the soft murmur of his name that became a moan.

  “Noah…”

  And then it became “No, no.” He stopped, suddenly jumping away from her. His breath was coming hard and fast, and he could feel himself aroused.

  “God, Caitlyn, what are you doing?” he said, running his fingers through his hair. It was chilly this morning, and he suddenly noticed the wind whipping in from the water, the sand dancing in the air.

  “What am I doing?” Her eyes snapped, and she took a step forward and then back from him, so she was clear to run. “You’re the one who…”

  “What?” he asked. He was calmer now, watching her. Surely he hadn’t been imagining the want in her face, the desire he’d felt.

  “It can’t be this way.”

  “What way?” He was puzzled.

  “We’re not teenagers anymore, Noah. I’m not going to shag you on Sailor’s Rock for the whole world to see.”

  “Oh, so you mean you were considering it?” Noah felt himself getting ready again, but Caitlyn held up her hand.

  “We snuck around once. I won’t do it again. Noah, you’re my boss. Been there, done that.” Caitlyn started to walk away, her feet shaking loose the stones on the beach.

  “No. Sam Harris is the boss. Think of me as an observer. A disinterested one,” he took a few steps to follow her, and she spun around.

  “I’m not like that, Noah. I don’t just date any guy who dangles a fat wallet in front of me.”

  “Wow.” Noah said, surprised. “I never thought you were.”

  “Really, that’s not what you said to me ten years ago. I think you called me a ‘money crazy tease’. You thought we broke up because you weren’t going to college, following the path your father set out for you.”

  “Well, didn’t you?” Noah didn’t know why he was shouting. Last night, when she’d been dancing, it had been all he could do not to step in and break the guy’s nose. His girl. He still thought of Caitlyn as his girl.

  Her face went white, as if he had slapped her, and then it changed. All the anger drained out of it, and he saw only sadness.

  “No, Noah. That wasn’t it at all. You just never understood. I wanted what was best for you. I just needed time after my grandfather died, and you were pushing too hard, too hard for a commitment I couldn’t make. You’re the one who thought it was because I didn’t love you enough. But you were wrong. It was because I loved you too much.”

  Caitlyn turned and walked away, feet crunching on the beach. Noah felt like he’d been sucker punched, but he knew that he couldn’t go after her.

  Chapter 20

  Caitlyn was late to work, but only by a few minutes. She kept a smile plastered on her face, but inside she was seething. How dare he accuse her of being a tease again? And the kiss. What had he been thinking? What had she been thinking? It had made her feel, like what? Like a teenager again, like when he used to kiss her in the boathouse, on the eighth green of the golf course, just about anywhere they could sneak away to.

  She sunk into her chair and just sat there, not even turning on her computer. Was it possible she still had feelings for Noah Randall? Ten years later, other men, a whole career, even an engagement, and it was still Noah Randall who made her palms sweat, her heart pump and her breath catch. She could go out with anyone she wanted to, practically, like that nice banker from last night. Kevin, that was his name, and she had his number. She should go for it. A nice, normal guy, no complications.

  She didn’t need Noah Randall, and their history, clouding her brain. Not to mention her present and future. No matter what he said, he was still technically her boss. And dating your boss was stupid – she had learned that lesson with Michael St. John.

  Caitlyn shook her head to clear it and booted up her computer. She had work to do, real work. And that’s what mattered.

  There were a list of messages, some from people she had met last night, one from the persistent Mrs. Smith-Sullivan and two from Michael. She thought she’d made it very clear she didn’t want to speak to him again.

  Caitlyn called in Heather and handed her the stack of business cards from the previous night.

  “I want you to go through these and send them all our marketing kit. Overnight them and make sure they go out by noon, if you can. I’m going to be making phone calls, so I don’t wish to be disturbed for a few hours.”

  Heather gave her a look but nodded. Caitlyn hid her own irritation, trying to remember what it was like to have been at someone’s beck and call.

  Caitlyn dialed Mrs. Biddle’s number first. Marion answered the phone and said Adriana had gone to visit Mr. Biddle. Caitlyn asked for her favorite champagne and wrote it down. She ordered a gift basket of fruit and champagne from the liquor store and arranged to have it delivered that day, along with a thank-you note.

  Caitlyn looked at her watch. It was time to call Tony Biddle. He picked up on the first ring, sounding not the least bit tired, and they chatted, Caitlyn inquiring how the rest of the party had gone.

  “Great. Have you seen the papers?” Caitlyn said she had not.

  “I got a mention in the Daily News, and there were people from the Times and Bon Ton. Here’s hoping we’ll see some pictures next month. Addie was fabulous. She gave a little interview on all of her work over the years, connecting artists and their society patrons.”

  Caitlyn made a mental note to mention that to Adriana when she spoke to her next, and then artfully, she steered the conversation around to her primary reason for calling.

&n
bsp; “I would like to put together a presentation for you, something to show what we can do for you. Would next Tuesday be all right? I can meet you in the city or,” Caitlyn could hear him flipping through the pages of an appointment book, “you could come out here.”

  “I am supposed to see my uncle and Addie.” She could hear him musing, thinking.

  “How about lunch? Then you can visit them in the afternoon.”

  “Perfect.”

  They set the date, and Caitlyn wrote it down, trying to contain her excitement. She would have a lot of work to do between now and then if she wanted to land Tony Biddle as a client.

  Caitlyn returned some other calls and made more appointments, answered questions and was generally well-pleased with herself by the time lunch rolled around. In the next two weeks, she had five meetings scheduled with potential clients. If she managed to get half of them – well, hell, if she managed to get Tony Biddle – then she would be well set for the future. Her strategy, developed and honed in London, was showing signs of traveling well.

  The flowers came around one in the afternoon, a giant vase of lilies. Her favorite. Heather had delivered them to her breathlessly, eager to see who they were from, peering to see what the note said. Caitlyn took the flowers directly and closed her office door, setting them down on her desk.

  They were beautiful, full and fresh, a burst of color. She opened the card, but she had a feeling she already knew who it was from.

  “Sorry for how we left things. Let’s start over. Please join me for dinner tonight at eight. My place.”

  The note certainly left no room for argument, which was how Noah had intended it, she was sure. Short of not showing up, there wasn’t much she could do. If he wanted to make her dinner, start over, well then, two could play that game. Her fingers brushed against her lips gently, as if she could remember, the burn of his lips against hers.

  Chapter 21

  It upset Noah that he didn’t know where to go anymore. When he was at the flower store where he bought the white lilies, he had asked for the name of the best restaurant in town. The woman behind the counter, middle-aged, friendly and smelling romance, had rattled off a whole list of names he did not recognize.

  “What about the Hideaway? Is that still the same?”

  The clerk looked at him with new respect. The Hideaway was the area’s best-kept secret, not often revealed to out-of-towners. He’d just been let back into the club.

  She nodded. “I went there for my anniversary. The molten chocolate cake for two is divine.”

  Noah smiled at her. “Perfect.” He had no idea what a molten chocolate cake was, but Caitlyn, if he remembered correctly, was a sucker for chocolate in any of its forms. He called and made arrangements for a complete meal, ready to be picked up at six, with instructions for re-heating included.

  Later in the day, he struggled over what to wear and then stopped himself. It was just dinner, he reminded himself, and settled for something casual – dark gray slacks, a white shirt and a soft, midnight blue cashmere sweater. The whole outfit had dutifully been picked out by his personal shopper, who had been hired by his publicist, whose job it was to help him look less like a college kid and more like a CEO. He had scoffed at first, but then appreciated the power being well-dressed had given him in a room full of scruffy programmers, for most of whom, not wearing flip flops was a big deal.

  He kept checking his watch, waiting for her to arrive, pacing, checking on the dinner, touching things, re-checking his wine selection, fussing over the music he had playing. She wasn’t even here, and she was tying him in knots. Noah was more nervous now than he had been facing down a boardroom of venture capitalists.

  It was just Caitlyn, he reminded himself. He’d known her practically his whole life, but he’d been a couple of years older, and he hadn’t really noticed her until that summer. He’d come home to try to convince his father to invest in his idea, while his buddies lived together out in Silicon Valley, coding. It had been a futile effort, the investment part, but he’d been with Caitlyn, and he hadn’t minded his father stonewalling him so much. She had the power, the power to make him feel invincible. And how he had wanted her – to be her first, to be that for her – but it hadn’t worked out that way.

  He saw headlights flashing through the front windows. One last check in the mirror. Tonight was a redo. It was time for Caitlyn Montgomery to meet the man she’d let get away.

  <<>>

  “May I take your coat?”

  Caitlyn wasn’t sure she wanted to surrender the warmth of her coat, but Noah held out his hand, so she shimmied out of it and handed it to him. She felt his eyes slide over her body. She wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking wearing this dress. It was a wrap dress, deep blue with a light pattern on it, and it shimmered when she moved. Plus, it had a V that dipped, but not too low, in just the right place. It had cost a fortune, bought in Paris on a weekend trip. She’d never had a chance to wear it with Michael and now, on its maiden voyage, she feared that it might be sending the wrong message. Tonight was supposed to be a friendly dinner, right?

  “Shall we have a drink?” Noah’s dark eyes were back on her face. She swallowed, realizing that neither one of them were interested in being just friends.

  But she nodded, desperately wanting something to keep her hands occupied. Caitlyn followed him into the kitchen, a big, designer one, with gleaming granite counters and top of the line appliances. Everything was new and sparkled. Maxwell had had it redone not too long ago, but even then, he never used it. He was a bachelor, eating out most nights.

  “It smells wonderful,” she said, and it did.

  Noah smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. “I worked all day.”

  Caitlyn glanced around the immaculate kitchen. “I can see all the hard work that went into it.”

  “Are you teasing me?” he asked, moving closer to her. A dangerous smile quirked up the corner of his lips.

  This time she didn’t try to dodge him, but let him get closer to her. His hand went up, but he was holding his wineglass.

  “Cheers,” he said simply.

  She clinked her glass to his, her eyes never leaving his face. Noah put his wine glass down on the counter, sliding it well back from the edge. He leaned in closer, one arm on either side of her so she was trapped, the small of her back against the edge of the counter. She could feel a stool behind her, and she was dimly aware there was music playing and candles lit, flames dancing.

  “How was your day?” he asked, his chin brushing against her cheek. She inhaled deeply, smelling his aftershave and his soap, a fresh, clean scent that did nothing to hide the maleness of him. His bulk was on top her now, the front of her dress pressed against him.

  “Fine,” she managed to answer. “I have Tony Biddle coming in for a meeting.”

  “Wonderful.” His teeth skimmed across her ear, and then one of his hands went up and brushed back her hair and his lips found the soft, sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe. His breath fanned her ear and pumped her heart. Caitlyn could think of nothing, not any coherent thought, and not any reason why she should push him away.

  His fingers trailed down her neck and skimmed the V where her breasts met. She shivered, desire licking through her.

  “Cold?” he asked, his eyes locking with hers.

  “No,” she shook her head, “not cold at all.”

  He shifted his weight, and one leg slid in between her thighs, and she moaned, already feeling wet with pleasure.

  “Caitlyn,” he said, his voice hard, raspy, “is this what you want? Tell me now, and I’ll stop. I’ll let you go.” His hand skimmed one breast, then the other, giving a sharp little tug so she became hard under his touch.

  She kissed him then, feeling him grow hard between her legs. His hand dropped lower, pulling the skirt of her dress up her thigh, his hands trailing up them until he pressed a thumb against the triangle of silk.

&nb
sp; “You never answered me.” His hand hovered there, and she felt herself move, almost involuntarily, to get closer, to be in contact with him. “Yes,” she managed to say, her voice hitching as she wrapped her hands around his shoulders, threading her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to her. She leaned back, and his lips skimmed her neck, sending pulses of arousal through her, while his fingers pushed aside the silk barrier and found their way into her sex, massaging her, gently pressing there until she moaned and writhed with pleasure, feeling the sensations build in her slowly, almost painfully, until she could nearly bear it no longer.

  His other hand came around behind her and cupped her, grasping the flesh of her buttocks tightly.

  “Yes, what, Caitlyn?” He stopped all motion then, and she was forced to look into his eyes.

  Her arousal was intense; she could feel the pressure of his fingers inside, a slow insistent pressure, prolonging the sweet agony and the ecstasy.

  “I want this. I want you,” she said simply, and he smiled, gripping her harder, pushing her up higher against the counter while his fingers moved more insistently. She was swept away, all feeling, her nerve endings alive, while his lips and teeth trailed kisses down her neck and breasts, nipping at them until they were hard. He whispered to her, encouraging her, his voice, his kisses, his hands sweeping her until she hovered on the edge, poised on the knife of pleasure.

  “C’mon, baby, it’s good… let it go,” he said to her. And she did, the orgasm ripping through her, thoroughly sating her, so when the last shudder had passed, she lay back against the counter, dress tucked up, her panties pulled down low, hands gripping the counter, letting the sensations slowly spill out of her.

  Noah looked at her, a smile on his face. He was still between her legs, and she could feel his need for her. She reached for him, grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him closer, one hand starting to unbuckle him.