sensuality. And he was winning. Her hand drifted across her midriff before languidly moving to her arm. "Our first committee meeting is tonight...." She traced a long line down her arm, paused at her wrist, then dragged her fingertips up to her elbow. Perhaps it was the way his stare locked onto her movements, but her voice was beginning to sound low and sultry even to herself.
"Tonight," he repeated, his voice dropping into a whisper suggestive of murmured endearments and soft kisses.
Somewhere in all of this pseudo-foreplay she had to pull out and land on her feet. And soon. But not too soon. She took an extra breath before sending him the beginning of an invitation with a tiny lick of her lips. Holding his jacket against her hip, she moved forward and placed one hand on the counter. "They're all coming to Chez Madison at eight-thirty, but if you wanted to—"
"Tonight?" The teasing maze of moves he'd been guiding her through went straight out the window with his bitten-off curse and shifting gaze. "I have something on my schedule for tonight."
Don't stop this, she wanted to tell him. Don't stop this fresh energy tickling at my heart. I like it. I like the way it feels. Please don't do this because I called it Chez Madison instead of Pappy's Crab Shack. Please don't make me say anything reckless. Blood was pounding in her ears from sheer embarrassment, but that didn't keep her from whispering, "I need you there, Rick. Couldn't you ask someone else to help you out?"
With an almost apologetic tone, he shook his head. "I can't get out of this, Bryn. Look, if I can make it later, I'll come by. Or maybe you could reschedule."
Reschedule? Instead of a lovers' rendezvous, he made it sound like a business meeting. Her heart skipped a beat and she almost groaned out loud; it was a business meeting. Her hand dropped to her side as the sensual fog burned away, leaving her in a room filled with fishing tackle, sunscreen, and brightly colored hats that read Fish or Cut Bait.
"Maybe you could reschedule," she said smartly, brushing her hair from her brow. She waited in silence until she felt her ears smarting with his answer.
"I can't."
Lifting her hand from the glass counter top, she straightened her spine. "The meeting's at eight-thirty," she said, clinging to the cool professionalism she willed to return to her voice. She headed for the door, but before her hand closed around the doorknob, more words welled up from a raw spot inside her. She could barely contain the hot anger she felt. "I'm busy too. I'm trying to run my business by phone from down here. I'm up to my neck in renovations at the restaurant. And my grandfather needs me." Twisting the knob, she fumbled twice before yanking open the door. "I don't have time to chase down the rest of the committee to reschedule this for your convenience, Captain Parrish."
She didn't mean to rattle the glass panes in the door when she pulled it shut, but when she returned a second later to place the jacket on his counter, she didn't apologize. If she did that, he might turn his face from the window and see the stinging tears in her eyes. Then he'd ask why they were there, and she wasn't sure she knew the answer.
* * *
He hadn't lied to Bryn; he couldn't get out of his plans. He'd put them off too long as it was. Facing Sharon Burke and telling her their arrangement had to end wasn't going to be easy. For the next hour he busied himself with paperwork while he waited for his customers. Several times he stopped, pencil poised in midair, while he tried to think of a way to let Sharon down easily. Thumbing through one of his astronomy magazines hadn't helped either. In the end he decided to rely on the one thing Sharon always insisted on. Honesty.
Picking up Bryn's carton of lunches, he walked out to the Coral Kiss. Below deck, he lifted out the first box to place in the cooler. She'd wrapped each one in banana-yellow ribbon with a hand-lettered card attached. He tipped the card to
"Tonight," he repeated, his voice dropping into a whisper suggestive of murmured endearments and soft kisses.
Somewhere in all of this pseudo-foreplay she had to pull out and land on her feet. And soon. But not too soon. She took an extra breath before sending him the beginning of an invitation with a tiny lick of her lips. Holding his jacket against her hip, she moved forward and placed one hand on the counter. "They're all coming to Chez Madison at eight-thirty, but if you wanted to—"
"Tonight?" The teasing maze of moves he'd been guiding her through went straight out the window with his bitten-off curse and shifting gaze. "I have something on my schedule for tonight."
Don't stop this, she wanted to tell him. Don't stop this fresh energy tickling at my heart. I like it. I like the way it feels. Please don't do this because I called it Chez Madison instead of Pappy's Crab Shack. Please don't make me say anything reckless. Blood was pounding in her ears from sheer embarrassment, but that didn't keep her from whispering, "I need you there, Rick. Couldn't you ask someone else to help you out?"
With an almost apologetic tone, he shook his head. "I can't get out of this, Bryn. Look, if I can make it later, I'll come by. Or maybe you could reschedule."
Reschedule? Instead of a lovers' rendezvous, he made it sound like a business meeting. Her heart skipped a beat and she almost groaned out loud; it was a business meeting. Her hand dropped to her side as the sensual fog burned away, leaving her in a room filled with fishing tackle, sunscreen, and brightly colored hats that read Fish or Cut Bait.
"Maybe you could reschedule," she said smartly, brushing her hair from her brow. She waited in silence until she felt her ears smarting with his answer.
"I can't."
Lifting her hand from the glass counter top, she straightened her spine. "The meeting's at eight-thirty," she said, clinging to the cool professionalism she willed to return to her voice. She headed for the door, but before her hand closed around the doorknob, more words welled up from a raw spot inside her. She could barely contain the hot anger she felt. "I'm busy too. I'm trying to run my business by phone from down here. I'm up to my neck in renovations at the restaurant. And my grandfather needs me." Twisting the knob, she fumbled twice before yanking open the door. "I don't have time to chase down the rest of the committee to reschedule this for your convenience, Captain Parrish."
She didn't mean to rattle the glass panes in the door when she pulled it shut, but when she returned a second later to place the jacket on his counter, she didn't apologize. If she did that, he might turn his face from the window and see the stinging tears in her eyes. Then he'd ask why they were there, and she wasn't sure she knew the answer.
* * *
He hadn't lied to Bryn; he couldn't get out of his plans. He'd put them off too long as it was. Facing Sharon Burke and telling her their arrangement had to end wasn't going to be easy. For the next hour he busied himself with paperwork while he waited for his customers. Several times he stopped, pencil poised in midair, while he tried to think of a way to let Sharon down easily. Thumbing through one of his astronomy magazines hadn't helped either. In the end he decided to rely on the one thing Sharon always insisted on. Honesty.
Picking up Bryn's carton of lunches, he walked out to the Coral Kiss. Below deck, he lifted out the first box to place in the cooler. She'd wrapped each one in banana-yellow ribbon with a hand-lettered card attached. He tipped the card to
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