Escapade

“Are you sure about that? I’m the only thing standing between you and the Gazette.”

“You and my father’s will,” she emphasized. She sat up, looking down at him with soft green eyes. “And I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Not ever. Not for money or any other reason.”

His eyes were very dark. They narrowed and ran slowly down to the V neck of her sleeveless T-shirt and back up again to her oval face with its exquisite expression. He found that looking at her gave him pleasure. It also kindled a curiosity that he was tired of fighting.

Something inside him caught fire, burned. She was untouched, and he wanted her. Needed her. Was desperate for her. He could stand only so much, and the temptation she’d unwittingly offered him had made him restless and unable to sleep, even to work these last few days. He let out a slow breath and gave in to it. Just once, he told himself. No heavy stuff, and just...this once.

He sat up, very slowly. His hand went to her mouth. He drew the tip of his forefinger softly over the curve of her lower lip, smearing lipstick and nerves as he held her eyes. His gaze fell to her soft mouth, and he bent his head. “This is not the best idea I’ve ever had. But kiss me anyway, Amanda,” he breathed as he leaned forward and his hard mouth fit itself slowly over hers.

Amanda’s whole body clenched with tense pleasure. It was the first time—the very first time, despite her dreams of years past. The sweet shock of his mouth on her soft lips made her whimper and curl into him like ivy. She reached up, straining to get her arms around his neck. The kiss she’d wanted so badly was hers now, and she was drowning in it, being seared by it. Her body felt as if it were on fire. It throbbed and ached in the oddest places, and she felt her long, elegant legs trembling as he drew her across his body and began to deepen the kiss.

The only men she’d ever kissed had been, for the most part, students at college. One or two of them had been experienced, but the majority had been like her—shy and introverted and not very experienced. She couldn’t ever remember being tempted to go to bed with any of them.

But with Josh she felt differently. Perhaps their long friendship made him more acceptable to her, or perhaps it was the barely tamed sensuality of his mouth that devastated her senses. Whatever the explanation, she collapsed like an alcoholic drowning in liquor the minute he touched her.

He seemed to know it, because he tempered his ardor to match her lack of experience. She stiffened when he gathered her hips against the aroused thrust of his own. He loosened his hold, concentrating instead on teasing her mouth with his tongue, nipping it gently with his teeth. She relaxed, and when she did, his hands slid back to her hips and tugged coaxingly until her belly was completely against his.

Memories of his hands on another woman’s hips, pulling her to him as he loomed over her in the moonlit darkness filtered through Amanda’s mind.

She gasped under his mouth, and he lifted his head with obvious reluctance.

“Does it disturb you that I’m aroused?” he asked huskily.

“Yes,” she confessed with embarrassment, hiding her face in his chest.

He took deep breaths. His heartbeat was shaking his powerful body, but he didn’t try to force her to accept anything she didn’t want.

He lifted her chin and searched her eyes slowly, seeing the desire and fear mingling there. That, and the adoration that she was too inexperienced to hide. She was deeply infatuated with him. He’d known it for years, but until now he’d managed not to do anything about it.

He drew in a long, ragged breath and moved away from her. “No,” he said quietly. “I can’t handle this, Amanda.”

She licked her lips and tasted him on them. He looked as unsettled as she felt, but he was fighting the feeling. And winning. He got to his feet and lit a cigar as he walked down to the surf.

By the time he came back, Amanda had everything in the hamper. She tried to act as if nothing had happened.

He reached down to pick up his shirt, knowing Amanda watched his nude torso.

Still aroused, he turned away, dragging the shirt over his head. This wouldn’t do. It really wouldn’t. Her mouth was the closest he’d ever been to heaven, but he wouldn’t start something he couldn’t finish.

“We’d better go,” he said quietly. “Brad should be back soon. I want to know how he made out.”

“I’m ready when you are,” she said pleasantly.

He took the hamper, and she walked silently beside him back to the launch.

On the way back, their uncomfortable silence was broken by a sudden gale. It wasn’t at all frightening to her. Nothing was, with Josh at the controls. She’d seen him in all sorts of dangerous situations over the years. Once, a sudden squall had come up when they were in the twin-engine plane he’d owned before the Learjet. His cool nerve and unruffled competence had stayed with her as he’d turned what could have been a tragic accident into an adventure.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked on the way across to New Providence, his voice sounding odd in the purr of the engines.

“About how well you handle danger,” she replied honestly. “You’re very cool under fire.”

“I had extensive training, having to face my board of directors with expansion proposals,” he said dryly. “It takes nerve to make money.”

“Don’t I know it.” She grimaced. “I don’t know if I’ll have anything to inherit when I’m twenty-five. It looks as if Ward Johnson is going to lose it all,” she said irritably. “His mind isn’t really on the job lately.”

“Give it up,” he advised. “You ought to know by now that I don’t budge when I think I’m right.” His fingers danced over the controls as Opal Cay came into view on the horizon. “Hold tight.”

He pushed the throttle forward, and his dark eyes danced as he fought the squall and the whitecaps on the way in to the small marina.

When they were on the pier, he smiled with wicked amusement at the look on her face. “I thought you trusted me at the controls.”

“I do. But I really don’t like getting into anything that’s over my head.”

“Don’t you?” In his dark eyes there was a soft, sensual threat that made her pulse leap. But he didn’t follow up on it. He took her arm and the hamper and walked briskly toward the house.

Dinner that night was delicious, but Amanda had no real appetite. The lethal combination of Josh’s sexy company and the certainty that she had to go back to Texas soon took the edge off the pleasure of the evening.

“Do you want something else?” he asked with concern.

“It’s not the food. It’s wonderful,” she said. She put down her fork. “I really have to go back.”

“Why?” he asked irritably. “Are you afraid the business will fail in a week if you aren’t there to save it?”

“Don’t be sarcastic,” she said. “And that just might be the case, even if you won’t believe me.”

“Don’t try to live your life in a flaming rush, Amanda,” he cautioned. “You’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Have I?” She looked down at his hand on the white linen cloth, with its dark tan and scattering of blond-tipped brown hair. “The most exciting thing I’ve ever done was to go to a professional wrestling match where the audience became the feature attraction.”

He chuckled. “I remember. I had to rescue you. As I recall,” he added with malicious glee, “you started it.”

She shifted restlessly. “Well, they called my favorite wrestler a bum and started cheering for that madman who was stomping his face.”

“And you rushed to his rescue.”

“Somebody had to!”

He burst out laughing, his dark eyes soft with indulgent humor. “You’re delightful, did you know? You don’t primp for hours, you don’t demand diamonds and furs, you don’t even insist on going the party rounds every night. You’re unique as a companion.”

“Unique as yours, I suppose,” she said without looking at him. “Or don’t you usually take your dinner companions to bed?”

“If I didn’t respect you so much, I’d take you there in a minute,” he replied easily. He finished his cocktail. “But we share too much history. I have nothing to offer you,” he said solemnly. “Nothing at all.”

The finality with which he made the statement chilled her. The bleak look in his eyes puzzled her, because coexisting with it was a frank, blistering hot hunger.

“You want me,” he said suddenly. “But you still aren’t quite sure how you want me, are you, Amanda? You’re looking for fairy-tale situations, roses and perfume, happily ever after.”

“No,” she began, unsure of where this conversation was going.