Twelve Nights Of Temptation

As he voiced the question, he found himself curious about Tasha’s love life. Did she have a boyfriend? Did she date? She was always such a no-nonsense fixture at the marina, he didn’t think of her beyond being a valued employee.

“What about me?” she asked.

“Do you ever go out?”

“Out where?”

“Out, out. On-a-date out. Dinner, dancing...”

She scoffed out a laugh.

“Is that a no?”

“That’s a no.”

“Why not?” Now he was really curious. She might dress in plain T-shirts and cargo pants, but underneath what struck him now as a disguise, she was a lovely woman. “Don’t you like to dress up? Do you ever dress up?”

He tried to remember if he’d ever seen her in anything stylish. He couldn’t, and he was pretty sure he’d remember.

She shifted on the swivel chair, angling toward him. “Why the third degree?”

“Since stories of my dates won’t distract us, I thought maybe yours could.” He found himself scrutinizing her face from an objective point of view.

She had startling green eyes, the vivid color of emeralds or a glacial, deep-water pond. They were framed in thick lashes. Her cheekbones were high. Her chin was the perfect angle. Her nose was narrow, almost delicate. And her lips were deep coral, the bottom slightly fuller than the top.

He wanted to kiss them.

“Nothing to tell,” she said. Her voice jolted him back to reality, and he turned to the windshield, rewinding the conversation.

“You must dress up sometimes.”

“I prefer to focus on work.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s satisfying.” Her answer didn’t ring true.

He owned the company, and he still found time for a social life. “I dress up. I date. I still find time to work.”

She made a motion with her hand, indicating up and down his body. “Of course you date. A guy like you is definitely going to date.”

He had no idea what she meant. “A guy like me?”

“Good-looking. Rich. Eligible.”

“Good-looking?” He was surprised that she thought so, even more surprised that she’d said so.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not me, Matt. The world thinks you’re good-looking. Don’t pretend you’ve never noticed.”

He’d never given it much thought. Looks were so much a matter of taste. He was fairly average. He’d never thought there was anything wrong with being average.

“I’m eligible now,” he said.

The rich part was also debatable. He hadn’t had enough money to satisfy his ex-wife. And now that they’d divorced, he had even less. He’d borrowed money to pay her out, and he was going to have to work hard over the next year or two to get back to a comfortable financial position.

“And so are you,” he said to Tasha. “You’re intelligent, hardworking and pretty. You should definitely be out there dating.”

He couldn’t help but compare her with the women he’d met lately. The truth was, they couldn’t hold a candle to her. There was so much about her that was compelling. Funny that he’d never noticed before.

“Dazzle them with your intelligence and hard work.”

“Can we not do this?” she asked.

“Make conversation?”

“I’m a licensed marine mechanic. And I want people to take me seriously as that.”

“You can’t do both?”

“Not in my experience.” She slipped down from the high white leather chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He didn’t want her to leave.

“I’m going to take your advice.”

“What advice is that?”

“I’m going to lie down and rest.” She glanced at her watch. “You think two hours?”

“I didn’t mean to chase you away.”

“You didn’t.”

“We don’t have to talk about dating.” But then he took in her pursed lips and realized he still wanted to kiss them. Where was this impulse coming from?

“I have work to do when we get there.”

He realized he’d be selfish to stop her. “You’re right. You should get some sleep.”

As she walked away, he considered the implications of being attracted to an employee. He couldn’t act on it. He shouldn’t act on it.

Then he laughed at himself. It wasn’t like she’d given him any encouragement. Well, other than saying he was good-looking.

She thought he was good-looking.

As he piloted his way along the dark coastline, he couldn’t help but smile.

* * *