by Ava Hayworth
Once again Becca has gotten the better of me. Furiously, I tread water while looking around for a boat to wave down. I see nothing. My fury turns to cold fear as the seriousness of my situation hits me. I am a good swimmer, but there is no way I could swim all the way to shore. Unless another boat comes along, I am going to drown. Rather than treading water in one spot, I decide to swim in the direction Becca had taken the boat.
I swim and swim, stopping occasionally to look around for a boat. Exhausted, I lay back and try to float so I can catch my breath. The choppy water makes it difficult. I have to fight the urge to cry as my plight becomes more and more desperate. Instead, I allow anger to fuel me. Anger at myself for letting Becca get close enough to hurt me, and anger at Becca for pushing me off the boat. I swim on.
The next time I stop to tread water, I see a sailboat. It is small and headed in my direction. I wave my hands over my head trying to catch their attention, but they turn in the opposite direction. Surely I am not doomed to die out here. Did Becca intend for me to die? I think of Seth but quickly push him out of my mind. Don’t think of drowning, Lainey. Think of surviving. I want to be with James. With this thought, I push myself to swim on. When I can swim no more, I restrict my movements to a minimum to keep my head above water. Then I see boats in front of me, four, maybe five. They are still far away, but I can make out figures on the boats. If I just swim a little closer, maybe I can get their attention. My arms and legs feel leaden, but I know if I can’t make them move, I will die. Come on, Lainey, you have to get to those boats. I count my strokes and when I reach one hundred, I know I can’t go on. I stop and scream towards the boats with all that I have. Figures appear on the deck looking in my direction. They heard me. I wave my hands over my head wildly. I see arms pointing in my direction. Joy overtakes me. They see me. I just have to keep treading a little longer.
It seems to take forever, but a midsize sailboat pulls close to me. A man throws in a life saver ring with a rope attached. The first time he throws wide, so he pulls it in and tries again. His second throw is better, but I am barely able to manage swimming the three strokes it takes to reach it. Once I have it, I pull it over my head and arms and hold on as tightly as I can before I give the man a thumbs up signal. He hauls me in, and with the help of another man manages to pull me up onto the deck. I am embarrassingly weak and might as well be a rag doll.
They bring me some water, which I manage to drink before laying back in a near-catatonic state. Their excited questions buzz around my head like swarming gnats. Eventually I close my eyes and let exhaustion overtake me.
When I wake up, it is to find myself lying in a hospital bed with no recollection of how I had gotten there. It doesn’t take long for me to discover that a nameless woman fished out of the ocean is quite a sensation. James arrives after he receives a roundabout message through Sam. Sam’s number was the only number I knew from memory. Luckily I was able to reach her, and she called James.
James enters my hospital room looking more disheveled than I had ever seen him. The moment our eyes meet, the shock of my ordeal comes rushing back to me. He seems to sense my disquiet and rushes to me, enfolding me in his arms. “Lainey, baby. You are alright.”
Unbidden, tears stream down my cheeks, and I sniffle against his shirt. “I know. It is just all hitting me now.”
He smooths the hair down at the back of my head and rocks me back and forth. “Oh Baby, I was terrified when Sam called to tell me that you were in the hospital. Thank God you are alright.”
Taking a deep breath, I draw back. “I fell asleep, and when I woke up Becca was on the boat. She had taken the boat out to sea. I thought I had talked her into coming back, but she somehow managed to shove me overboard. I feel so stupid.” I look around for a tissue to wipe my nose. Finding nothing, I use the edge of my sheet. “James, I would have died if that other boat had not been out there.” I look up into James’s eyes, and the expression I see there is chilling.
“This is not fun and games anymore. She needs to be charged with attempted murder.”
The word murder hangs heavy in the following silence. Murder was such an awful thing to think about. Had Becca tried to kill me, or did she think another boat would come along and save me? There was no way to know. There is also no way to prove that she had pushed me off the boat. James continues, “There is a police officer here to take your statement.””
“Why?”
“Because they need to fill out an accident report, but in this case, they will need to make a case against Becca. Should I send him in, or do you want to wait a bit?”
“Send him in now. I may as well get it over with.”
The ride back to Rex’s house is silent. Out of the corner of my eye, I observe James’s tense posture and his firm grip on the steering wheel. We pull up to the front of the house, but before James can make a move to open his door, I lay my hand on his arm. He turns to look at me questioningly. Instead of saying anything, I scramble over the console. When James sees what I intend, he moves to let his seat back so that I can squeeze between him and the steering wheel. I feel a bit like a twisted pretzel, but I ignore the discomfort. As soon as I am settled, I pull James’s head down to mine and ravage his mouth with my own. He groans and his hands push away the hospital gown I am wearing over my bikini.
James pulls back slightly and looks down at me. “You know we are at the house and the bedroom is only a few steps away, right?”
“I couldn’t wait a second longer. When I was out there in the ocean, alone, with no hope of rescue, all I could think about was that I would give anything just to be able to kiss you one more time.”
“Oh, baby.” James runs his hand along my cheek in a comforting gesture.
I drop my eyes from his so he won’t see the moisture building. “You can send the movers next week.” Blinking back the tears, I look up at him again. ““I want to be with you.”
James bends his head down and engulfs my mouth with his once again. As James intensifies his kiss, he presses me back. My elbow hits the steering wheel, and I yelp in pain. “Babe, I think we would be more comfortable in bed.” When he sees my look of challenge he amends, ““Or at least in the backseat.”
Laughing, I shake my head at him. “Okay, we can get out of the car.”
“Thank God. I don’t know if I am up to playing the contortionist today.”
“Haven’t you ever made out in a car before?” I tease.
“Only with you.” James gives me a sly wink.
“Somehow, I find that very difficult to believe.”
James opens his car door, and I half crawl, half fall onto the pavement. Stepping out with his usual grace, James stands looking down at me with an amused expression. I hold up an arm. “Are you going to help me up or just stand there laughing all day?”
He reaches down and takes hold of my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
The thought of a shower has me hurrying inside. “I call first dibs on the shower.”
James laughs again. “It’s all yours.” Before I can reach the door, he grabs my hand and pulls me back. “You’re adorable. You know that?”
I smile with delight at his compliment. “That’s what they say.” James gives me a short, hard kiss before ushering me through the door.
CHAPTER 3
Standing in James’s enormous walk-in closet, I marvel at his organization. His suits hang in a row and are arranged by color. The lighter colored suits move progressively up the color spectrum to the black suits. I open one of the built-in drawers and take in the rows of folded ties arranged by color, each fitted into an individual square compartment. Shutting the drawer, I turn to look at the other side of the closet, where my clothes now hang in a neat row.
Once I had given James the go-ahead, he had not wasted time in getting me moved into his apartment. My head is still spinning at the speed with which he made it all happen. I force myself to contemplate the dresses hanging in
front of me. Wiping my sweating palms on my cut-offs, I pull a floral shift dress off its hanger and hold it up in front of me. Too casual, I decide, before returning it to its place.
James appears at the doorway, looking relaxed. Worry must be written all over my face. “Baby, it will be fine.”
I return to flipping through my wardrobe. “I don’t know what to wear.”
“Listen, you don’t have to be nervous. I am sure Grandfather will love you in whatever you are wearing.”
The fact that he calls his grandpa “Grandfather” sends my nerves into overdrive. I attempt a reassuring smile as I pull a black dress off its hanger. You can’t go wrong with black, right? This is one of those instances when I miss living with Sam. She would have had me styled and ready to go by now. James has disappeared back into bedroom, and I quickly get ready.
As ready as I will ever be, I go looking for James. I find him standing in the living room looking as cool and collected as usual, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous in one of my favorite suits. I sometimes can’t believe that he is my boyfriend. I stand there a few minutes letting it sink in. When he sees me, he holds up a glass that looks like my favorite gin and tonic. Not wanting to be the cause of our being late, I throw it back in three quick drinks. I shrug my shoulders at James’s raised eyebrows.
Despite James’s reassurance, I am wound up tight the entire ride to the restaurant. The initial meeting with his grandfather seems tense and stilted. He is not as tall as James and his build is stockier. Behind his glasses, his eyes appear to be a watery blue. Although the silver-haired older man does not appear intimidating, I know that appearances can be deceiving. I sense that I don’’t yet have Gordon Ward’s approval.
The menu is overwhelming. I consider asking James to order for me, but don’t want to appear indecisive. After choosing a salad and veal as my entrée, I hand the menu back to the waiter. I smile brightly at my dinner companions, determined to make the best of the situation. A few acquaintances of James and Gordon stop by the table, and I am relieved that I no longer have to hold up my end of the stilted conversation. Gordon seems to know one of the men quite well and asks him and the younger man and woman accompanying him to join us for a drink. As if by magic, the maître Dee appears and arranges extra chairs for our guests.
Gordon beams at our guests, but although it doesn’t show, I sense that James is unhappy with the situation. Gordon introduces me to his good friend Maurice Van Cleef. The other two are his children, who appear to be about my age. His daughter Nicole takes a seat on the other side of James, and his son sits down beside me. I have to ask the son to repeat his name, because I hadn’t caught it in the introductions. He explains that it is Andries. Since their last name is Dutch, his parents had looked for a Dutch first name. I let myself be drawn into conversation with him, since the others seem to be involved in a conversation about people that I have never heard of. Andries is handsome, with deep-set gray eyes and sandy-colored hair that shows a hint of a receding hairline. This does not detract in any way from his good looks. He is also charming and a complete flirt.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Why, are you interested?” He asks back with a devilish smile.
“You are shameless.” I glance pointedly at James.
Andries looks over at James, who appears absorbed in a conversation with his sister. “You have managed to capture the elusive James McAllister, I see.”
“I suppose so.”
“I can see why he fell for you. You are quite beautiful.”
I can feel a blush staining my cheeks. “Thank you.”
He reaches out and rubs a lock of my hair between his fingers. “I have never seen hair quite this color before. It is like liquid gold.” As if sensing my discomfort with his compliments, Andries changes the subject by asking me about work.
Gordon Ward signals the waiter and asks him to bring menus to the Van Cleefs, insisting that they join us for dinner. I have a suspicion that Gordon is trying to offer Nicole up to James as an alternative to me. Every time James turns to give me some attention, Gordon pulls him back into conversation with Nicole. From the amused light in his eyes, I gather Maurice has come to a similar conclusion and finds the situation highly entertaining.
Once the Van Cleefs have been given menus, I excuse myself and go in search of the ladies’ room. As I thread my way through tables filled with diners, I wonder how this evening can get any worse. Gordon is throwing a beautiful blond at James’s feet while her equally gorgeous brother hits on me. This on an evening when I am supposed to be charming his grandfather into liking me.
As I leave the restroom, I am startled to find James waiting for me. Without a word he takes my arm and leads me further down the hall. “Where are we going?”
James doesn’t reply. Pulling open a door at the end of the corridor, he tugs me in. He flips on a light, and I see that we are in a small storage closet. There are shelves lined with boxes running along all of the walls. “What are we doing in here?”” I trail off as I take in James’s cold demeanor.
I watch as he removes his suit jacket. He folds it over several times and bends down to place it on the floor in front of him. “Get down on your knees.” Uncertain if I understand him correctly, I kneel down in front of him using his suit jacket to cushion my knees. My eyes widen as he begins undoing his belt and pulling at the button of his dress pants. My lips part in anticipation as his hard erection springs out, and my panties pool with moisture. Reaching out, I wrap my hand around his long, hard length. “I couldn’t stand not touching you another minute. I don’t care how many other men make you laugh and smile. You are mine.”
“You seemed engrossed in your conversation with your grandfather and Blondie.”
My touch is affecting him, because his breathing quickens. “‘Seemed’ is the keyword here. You always have my attention. I just may not be able to show it.”
I had been feeling neglected at the table, and I am gratified that he had been thinking of me so much that he dragged me away. I tighten my grip on his cock and move my hand along the iron length. At the sound of his groan, I lean forward and run my tongue from the base to the tip and then lick and suck. I take him in as far as I can, pushing him to the back of my throat. I am aware of James’s harsh breathing. “Yea, baby, you can take it.” He twists his hand in my hair and uses it to direct my movements. “That feels so fucking good,”” he bites out between gasps. “You. Are. Mine.” I grip him with my hand as I move my mouth up and down his hard shaft. I feel his excitement build, and my body aches for his touch. ““Fuck, I’m going to come.” I suck harder and feel his ejaculate shoot to the back of my throat. Swallowing it down, I sit back and smile up at him. In a familiar gesture, he runs his hand over my cheek. After a moment, he helps me up. I hand him his jacket, which he slides on before reaching up to straighten his tie. “Stop flirting with Van Cleef.”
The James from a few minutes before is gone. Cool and collected, James stands before me. “Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”
“His hands were all over you.” I look at him with confusion. James clarifies, “He touched your hair.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You seem to be having a good time chatting up Ms. Van Cleef.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says dismissively. His voice switches to a husky timber. “When we go back, I want you to think of what I am going to do to you tonight with my cock.”
I feel my face flush and my nipples tighten. James’s eyes travel down my body, and I know my aroused state has not escaped his notice. “You are going to leave me like this?” I gesture up and down my body with my hand.
His smirk makes me want to scream. He suddenly pulls me to him, making me gasp. His hands find my ass, and he presses me hard against him. “Maybe if you are distracted, you won’t be paying Van Cleef so much attention.”
I raise my eyebrows. Is this the way it’s going to be? I can’t resist the urge to pr
ovoke him. “I hope your plan doesn’’t backfire on you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing, just forget it.”
James holds my stare as if daring me to back down from the incendiary comment I had just thrown at him. “You little vixen. You had better watch that smart little mouth.”
“Or what?” I challenge.
“Baby, you don’t want to know.” He releases me, and I step away.
“Bring it on, baby.” Tossing back my hair, I pass through the door that James is holding open for me. I look back, and the speculative gleam in James’s eyes sends my libido into overdrive. I’m not entirely certain how I am going to make it through the rest of the evening. “Won’t they be wondering where you are?””
“I told them I had to make a call. You can go back first.”
I nod and walk back into the dining room, making sure I put an extra swish in my hips on my way out.
Taking a few deep breaths before reaching our table, I try to clear my face of any expression. I don’t want to broadcast what we had been up to, especially considering that I was trying to make a good impression on his grandfather. After a few minutes, James slips into the chair next to me. No one seems to have noticed our long absence, or at least they are too polite to mention it.
I am concentrating on eating my salad as daintily as possible when the feel of a hand on my thigh almost makes me choke. I look over at James, and my eyes widen as I realize that both his hands are visible on the table. Shock curses through me as it dawns on me that the hand on my thigh, which is now creeping further up my leg, belongs to the man on my other side. As subtly as possible, I shift away from the roving hand. Thankfully, Andries gets the message and removes it. Unable to eat anything more, I set my fork down. James sends me a curious look, and I make an effort to smile reassuringly. I take a drink of water in an attempt to regain my composure. Had I been sending Andries a signal that I would be receptive to an advance like that? I can hardly believe he would do something when James is sitting right here next to me. Considering James’s earlier reaction to a little light flirting, I didn’t want to know what he would do if he got wind of what had just happened.
