too.”
“He’ll kiss you for it!”
“I hope not,” Dallas muttered, unlocking the door and scrambling inside. He had his suspicions about Joe.
Gunning the car to life, he grabbed his sunglasses off the dash and put them on as protection against the sun’s bright glare. Another hot one, he thought absently, then backed the car out of the slot and took off for the highway. He smiled to himself. It was obvious Cass had thought to avoid him by taking the day off. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Not after the kiss they’d shared.
Dammit, he thought. Why had he ever told her they couldn’t kiss again? No sooner had the words come from his mouth than he’d sensed the trap he’d set for himself. The strong attraction he’d felt for her had settled in firmly with the kiss. Avoiding it wouldn’t make it go away, any more than avoiding him would make him go away. She’d face it; he’d see to that.
When he reached the marina he drove slowly, searching for a sign of her. He spotted her about halfway down one of the small docks. She was loading a cooler onto a tiny rowboat with a small outboard motor hanging off its stern. Reading theboat’s name, he chuckled to himself.
WinterLand II.
Nice advertising touch, he acknowledged, and it reached a new group of potential customers. No flower child could have thought of that.
He parked the car, got out, and locked it. He strode down the ramp and onto the dock. Coming up behind her, he asked, “Do you always take the day off when you don’t want to face something?”
She jerked for an instant, then set down the beach bag she was holding and turned around. Her expression was cool, almost blank. “Good morning, Dallas. When you go back to the store, please tell Jean she’s definitely fired for blabbing about my burglar.”
“What burglar?” he asked, suddenly confused. He pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head.
She made a face. “Me and my big mouth. I take it you didn’t come down here about my burglar.”
“What burglar?” he demanded, his stomach muscles suddenly tensing.
“My place was nearly burgled last night.…”
He stared at her with growing amazement as she told him about hearing noises at her door and scaring the person away with her call to the police. She added, “Actually, I don’t know who was more terrified—him or me.”
“Lord, Cass,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders as an odd stab of protectiveness washed through him. Silently he cursed himself for not being there. The burglar, if he had known it, had been let off easy with a scare. “If he had gotten in—”
“I’m okay,” she interrupted firmly, stepping awayfrom him and picking up a large wire basket. She set it in the boat. “It was probably just a kid, who’s had all thoughts of a life of crime scared out of him. I hope. Now, what are you doing here?”
He picked up a second basket and tossed it in the boat. “I’m going fishing with you.”
She started, then turned around. Her eyes were wide with shock. “The hell you are, Dallas Carter.”
“The hell I’m not, Cass Lindley,” he replied nonchalantly.
“But you have to go back to the store! Jean—”
“Joe is filling in for me.” He laughed. “I will be working the weekend with you.”
Cass moaned.
“You ought to know by now you can’t get rid of me,” he said. “Just think of me as a bodyguard. A fish could try to mug you out there, and without me along, where would you be?”
“A whole lot safer,” she muttered just loudly enough for him to hear.
He grinned.
In a normal voice she added, “Knowing you, you’d swim alongside the boat, just to bug me to death.”
“Now that you’ve given me the idea—”
“Just get in the boat, Dallas,” she ordered, glaring at him.
Without another word, he climbed aboard with a minimum of boat rocking and sat down on the prow seat. He pushed his sunglasses back onto his nose, then looked up to find Cass gazing at him with raised
“He’ll kiss you for it!”
“I hope not,” Dallas muttered, unlocking the door and scrambling inside. He had his suspicions about Joe.
Gunning the car to life, he grabbed his sunglasses off the dash and put them on as protection against the sun’s bright glare. Another hot one, he thought absently, then backed the car out of the slot and took off for the highway. He smiled to himself. It was obvious Cass had thought to avoid him by taking the day off. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Not after the kiss they’d shared.
Dammit, he thought. Why had he ever told her they couldn’t kiss again? No sooner had the words come from his mouth than he’d sensed the trap he’d set for himself. The strong attraction he’d felt for her had settled in firmly with the kiss. Avoiding it wouldn’t make it go away, any more than avoiding him would make him go away. She’d face it; he’d see to that.
When he reached the marina he drove slowly, searching for a sign of her. He spotted her about halfway down one of the small docks. She was loading a cooler onto a tiny rowboat with a small outboard motor hanging off its stern. Reading theboat’s name, he chuckled to himself.
WinterLand II.
Nice advertising touch, he acknowledged, and it reached a new group of potential customers. No flower child could have thought of that.
He parked the car, got out, and locked it. He strode down the ramp and onto the dock. Coming up behind her, he asked, “Do you always take the day off when you don’t want to face something?”
She jerked for an instant, then set down the beach bag she was holding and turned around. Her expression was cool, almost blank. “Good morning, Dallas. When you go back to the store, please tell Jean she’s definitely fired for blabbing about my burglar.”
“What burglar?” he asked, suddenly confused. He pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head.
She made a face. “Me and my big mouth. I take it you didn’t come down here about my burglar.”
“What burglar?” he demanded, his stomach muscles suddenly tensing.
“My place was nearly burgled last night.…”
He stared at her with growing amazement as she told him about hearing noises at her door and scaring the person away with her call to the police. She added, “Actually, I don’t know who was more terrified—him or me.”
“Lord, Cass,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders as an odd stab of protectiveness washed through him. Silently he cursed himself for not being there. The burglar, if he had known it, had been let off easy with a scare. “If he had gotten in—”
“I’m okay,” she interrupted firmly, stepping awayfrom him and picking up a large wire basket. She set it in the boat. “It was probably just a kid, who’s had all thoughts of a life of crime scared out of him. I hope. Now, what are you doing here?”
He picked up a second basket and tossed it in the boat. “I’m going fishing with you.”
She started, then turned around. Her eyes were wide with shock. “The hell you are, Dallas Carter.”
“The hell I’m not, Cass Lindley,” he replied nonchalantly.
“But you have to go back to the store! Jean—”
“Joe is filling in for me.” He laughed. “I will be working the weekend with you.”
Cass moaned.
“You ought to know by now you can’t get rid of me,” he said. “Just think of me as a bodyguard. A fish could try to mug you out there, and without me along, where would you be?”
“A whole lot safer,” she muttered just loudly enough for him to hear.
He grinned.
In a normal voice she added, “Knowing you, you’d swim alongside the boat, just to bug me to death.”
“Now that you’ve given me the idea—”
“Just get in the boat, Dallas,” she ordered, glaring at him.
Without another word, he climbed aboard with a minimum of boat rocking and sat down on the prow seat. He pushed his sunglasses back onto his nose, then looked up to find Cass gazing at him with raised
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