getting Simms alone. Now he had to deal with Simms’s angry lover. Terrific! Just damned terrific. “I’m looking for Kent Simms.”
“Here?” she said, laughing bitterly. The disgusted look she sent him accused him of being out of his mind. “You expected him on board?”
“Isn’t he?”
“Not if he has a brain,” she muttered. Scowling, she added,
“I think Kent’s back at the hotel, living the good life, kissing up to my father.” She turned her concentration back to the sea.
So she was still furious. Good. Her anger might work to his advantage, Adam thought. Now that he was on this pitching boat in the middle of a storm, he had to improvise his hasty plan, and though he wasn’t quite sure how, he knew instinctively that any rift between Simms and Victor Montgomery’s daughter was a good sign.
“What do you want with him?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the boat’s prow.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?” Her voice was casual, but he noticed a glint of suspicion in her gaze as she hazarded a quick glance in his direction. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. This has something to do with the reason you crashed the party, doesn’t it?”
When he didn’t immediately respond, she plunged ahead. “And since I don’t think you’re interested in filling out a job application for Montgomery Inns, you must want to talk about the money that’s missing from the Puget West project. Right?”
It galled him the way she talked about the embezzlement so flippantly. He’d gone through hell in the past twelve months, and she acted as though it didn’t really matter, just a little inconvenience.
She wasn’t finished. “If you want my advice—”
“I didn’t come here for—”
“You should just get on with your life.”
“I’m not here for advice.”
“Then you shouldn’t have stowed away on my boat.”
Her boat? “The Marnie Lee belongs to Simms.”
She smiled at that, and her face softened a little. Even under the harsh lights of the bridge, with her hair still wet and her face without a trace of makeup, she was a beautiful woman. “ Half of the Marnie Lee belongs to Kent. Unfortunately for him, his half is nailed to my half and I decided to leave the party early.”
“Why?”
She sent him another hard look, a line forming between her brows. “It was time,” she replied, without giving him a clue to her motives.
“Does it have anything to do with your fight with Simms?”
Marnie started to answer, then held her tongue. She should be the person asking questions, not the other way around! What the devil was Drake doing on her boat? She felt nervous and hot, though the bridge was barely 50° F. Adam had always put her on edge; his angled features, thick hair and intense eyes fairly screamed “sexy,” but she’d ignored his rakish good looks when she’d worked with him. She knew a lot of attractive men, but Adam was different. He was more than just simply handsome. There was a restlessness about him, an earthiness coupled with repressed anger that caused her to react to him on a primal level. Kent had called Adam primitive and for once he’d been right: there was a certain primal sexuality to the man.
So here he was, in the tiny bridge, a storm thundering outside, the boat lurching and tilting, and all she could think about was keeping distance between herself and him.
“You made a mistake,” she said flatly.
“Just one?” One side of his mouth lifted.
Marnie gripped the helm and felt her palms dampen with sweat. All she wanted was to escape her past and sort out her identity. But now she had to deal with Adam Drake. Even though he had come to her rescue at the party, she didn’t want him fouling up her first real bid for freedom. “Look, you’ve got to get off the boat.”
“Why?”
“You’re not part of my plan.”
He snorted and tossed back the hood of his poncho. “We’ve got more in common than I thought. You weren’t part of
“Here?” she said, laughing bitterly. The disgusted look she sent him accused him of being out of his mind. “You expected him on board?”
“Isn’t he?”
“Not if he has a brain,” she muttered. Scowling, she added,
“I think Kent’s back at the hotel, living the good life, kissing up to my father.” She turned her concentration back to the sea.
So she was still furious. Good. Her anger might work to his advantage, Adam thought. Now that he was on this pitching boat in the middle of a storm, he had to improvise his hasty plan, and though he wasn’t quite sure how, he knew instinctively that any rift between Simms and Victor Montgomery’s daughter was a good sign.
“What do you want with him?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the boat’s prow.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?” Her voice was casual, but he noticed a glint of suspicion in her gaze as she hazarded a quick glance in his direction. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. This has something to do with the reason you crashed the party, doesn’t it?”
When he didn’t immediately respond, she plunged ahead. “And since I don’t think you’re interested in filling out a job application for Montgomery Inns, you must want to talk about the money that’s missing from the Puget West project. Right?”
It galled him the way she talked about the embezzlement so flippantly. He’d gone through hell in the past twelve months, and she acted as though it didn’t really matter, just a little inconvenience.
She wasn’t finished. “If you want my advice—”
“I didn’t come here for—”
“You should just get on with your life.”
“I’m not here for advice.”
“Then you shouldn’t have stowed away on my boat.”
Her boat? “The Marnie Lee belongs to Simms.”
She smiled at that, and her face softened a little. Even under the harsh lights of the bridge, with her hair still wet and her face without a trace of makeup, she was a beautiful woman. “ Half of the Marnie Lee belongs to Kent. Unfortunately for him, his half is nailed to my half and I decided to leave the party early.”
“Why?”
She sent him another hard look, a line forming between her brows. “It was time,” she replied, without giving him a clue to her motives.
“Does it have anything to do with your fight with Simms?”
Marnie started to answer, then held her tongue. She should be the person asking questions, not the other way around! What the devil was Drake doing on her boat? She felt nervous and hot, though the bridge was barely 50° F. Adam had always put her on edge; his angled features, thick hair and intense eyes fairly screamed “sexy,” but she’d ignored his rakish good looks when she’d worked with him. She knew a lot of attractive men, but Adam was different. He was more than just simply handsome. There was a restlessness about him, an earthiness coupled with repressed anger that caused her to react to him on a primal level. Kent had called Adam primitive and for once he’d been right: there was a certain primal sexuality to the man.
So here he was, in the tiny bridge, a storm thundering outside, the boat lurching and tilting, and all she could think about was keeping distance between herself and him.
“You made a mistake,” she said flatly.
“Just one?” One side of his mouth lifted.
Marnie gripped the helm and felt her palms dampen with sweat. All she wanted was to escape her past and sort out her identity. But now she had to deal with Adam Drake. Even though he had come to her rescue at the party, she didn’t want him fouling up her first real bid for freedom. “Look, you’ve got to get off the boat.”
“Why?”
“You’re not part of my plan.”
He snorted and tossed back the hood of his poncho. “We’ve got more in common than I thought. You weren’t part of
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