Smooth Sailing

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“You’re also the only one who doesn’t like me, and I can’t figure out why.”

Haley scoffed. “Not everyone has to like you. Why do you care whether I like you or not?”

“Because I like you.”

“You like everyone.”

“True,” he said, taking a step closer. “But not as much as I like you.”

She put up her hand like a stop sign. “You don’t like me. You like a challenge.”

His crystal-blue eyes glittered. “I have to admit, I do enjoy a challenge. The more you resist, the more I want you…” There was a long pause that set her heart to rocking, before he added, “At my party.”

“You can want in one hand and spit in the other and see which fills up first.”

Jeb laughed long and loud, showing off a row of straight white teeth. That was the problem with the man. He was too perfect and every woman wanted him. Just like the blonde who was sidling up to his elbow and fluttering her false eyelashes at him.

“Your adoring public awaits.”

“What?”

She nodded at the woman.

Jeb barely cast the platinum blonde a glance and quickly swung his gaze back to Haley. “Come to my party.”

“I don’t think so. It takes my hair a really long time to dry,” she quipped.

She could not let him know how much he got under her skin. If he knew that he was a major star in her sexual fantasies, she would never hear the end of it. She refused to be like all the other women simpering at his feet.

Yes, he was good-looking. Yes, he was rich. Yes, he had personality and charisma oozing from his pores. Those were exactly the reasons she was not interested. Jeb Whitcomb was a very superficial man.

“It’s the last time you’ll ever see me.” A hangdog expression crawled over his face. “Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

“Goodbye.” She wriggled her fingers at him.

“The party won’t be the same without you.”

“You won’t miss me.”

He canted his head, his eyes drilling into her like lasers. “Ah, see, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

“It’s not going to happen, Whitcomb.”

He shrugged. “A guy can always dream, can’t he?”

“As long as it stays a dream.”

He reached out, touched the back of her hand. A shiver ran straight through the middle of her. “I am going to miss you, Haley.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Ouch.” The grin was back as he clutched a hand to his chest. “You play for keeps.”

“Don’t ever forget it.”

The blonde at his elbow edged closer, cleared her throat. “Mr. Whitcomb, I’m from Metropolitan Magazine and I want to do a story on you.”

Jeb turned to the woman. “Yes?”

With her hand still tingling from his touch, Haley took advantage of his distraction and slipped off into the crowd. Great. She felt like a James Bond martini, shaken and not—Oh, who was she kidding?

She was both shaken and stirred.

HALEY STALKED OFF with a purposeful bounce, her honey-colored hair flowing around her shoulders, those blue scrubs stretching across her sexy rump as she marched away.

Jeb grinned, put a palm to the nape of his neck and licked his lips. Wow, you can park that swing in my backyard anytime. He tilted his head, honed in on her narrow waist and curvy hips.

His pulse pounded and his body stiffened. In spite of the cool ocean breeze swaying the palm trees, a simmering heat moved through him. He chuffed out a breath, struggling to regain his equilibrium. Truth was, he really would miss her. He enjoyed their sparring matches. She was sassy and saucy and didn’t take anything off anyone.

The last person who’d challenged him that same way was his ex-girlfriend, Jackie Birchard. Out of the dozens of girlfriends he’d had, Jackie was the only one to dump him. It made her stand out in the crowd. The one woman he couldn’t charm.

That was, until he met Haley. Too bad they’d never hooked up, although they’d come pretty damn close.

Jeb smiled, remembering. He could have gotten her into bed if he’d wanted. When they’d made out on the beach at sunset a few months back, sparks had ignited unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and that was saying something. Haley had wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, maybe even more so, although chances were good that she would never admit it.

But, surprise, surprise, he’d been the one to put a stop to things before they’d completely lost control.

He’d stopped for two reasons. One, he knew Haley would have regretted it the morning after. She was such a stickler for protocol, held herself and others to high standards. Two, he’d been trying to prove to Jackie that she was wrong about him. He wasn’t a self-absorbed playboy with no depth of character. He could restrain himself.

No matter how difficult it had been to break that kiss and send Haley home with their desires unfulfilled.

Ah, well, you couldn’t win them all, right? It was time to move on. His work on St. Michael’s was done. He’d achieved what he’d set out to achieve. He’d helped rebuild the island. He could return home with his head held high.

“About that interview, Mr. Whitcomb,” said the blond reporter with a smile that sparkled like prisms.

Matching her smile, Jeb turned and led her away, but he couldn’t resist one last glance over his shoulder at Haley.

She paused and looked back.

Their eyes met.

Gotcha! Protest all you want, sweetheart—you do want me. Boldly, he winked.

Her cheeks reddened and her eyes narrowed in a scowl. She ducked her head and flounced from his view, leaving Jeb sorely regretting the night that they’d never had.

HALEY LAY STRETCHED OUT on her twin bed in the one-bedroom bungalow she shared with Ahmaya. She was eating Oreos, twisting the cookies apart and scraping the white filling off with her front teeth before gobbling up the dark cookies. Oreos were her go-to comfort treats when she was stressed or frustrated, and yes, she knew the drawbacks of de-stressing with a sugar fix, but when she was feeling like this, she didn’t care.