Once Upon A Kiss...: The Cinderella Act / Princess in the Making / Temporarily His Princess

“Do stop at Peacock Island for refreshments.” An elegantly attired man gestured toward the clump of trees dotted with lanterns, barely visible in the black night.

Sinclair pulled away from the dock with powerful strokes, soon overtaking even the first boat to leave, and heading out into the quiet darkness of the sound.

Yet another bottle of champagne, beaded with tiny droplets of condensation, sat in a silver bucket at the prow of the boat. Annie resolved to keep her hands off it. Too much champagne might make her do something she would regret.

“The island is that way,” she said, as he rowed swiftly past it, their wake lapping toward its shores.

“I know. I’m taking us somewhere else.”

Eight (#ulink_af37a83f-42f0-524d-b139-5d122b4eca19)

Sinclair enjoyed the pull of the oars in the heavy water. It felt good to move his muscles. The tension building between Annie and him all evening was beginning to tip from pleasurable to punishing.

Annie looked out over the side of the boat, staring at the long ribbon of the shore. The cool moonlight played across her features. He loved her face. She had a freshness about her that always caught his eye. Bright eyes, her mouth so quick to smile, that adorable nose with its faint sprinkling of freckles. Even in her extravagant gown and evening makeup she looked innocent and unworldly.

Was that what attracted him? Perhaps he was so jaded and tired of the world’s movers and shakers that her quiet beauty and sweetness became irresistible.

Then there was her body. The voluminous skirt did nothing to hide his memory of her gorgeous, shapely legs … wrapped around his waist. The fitted bodice cupped her small, full breasts in a way that made his blood pump faster. Her gold-tinged hair was swept up into a knot, with a few strands escaping to play about her cheeks and momentarily hide her pretty blue eyes.

Was it really a good idea to take her to a private dock, away from the prying eyes of strangers? Probably not.

But he pulled away at the oars, as sure of his destination as he’d ever been.

“It’s so quiet out here. I love it.” Her voice drifted toward him, then she turned, all sparkling eyes and lush, full lips. “It’s nice being away from the lights on the shore. We can see the stars.” She looked up, and the moon glazed her face with its loving light.

Sinclair looked up, too, and almost startled at the bright mantle of stars—hundreds of them, millions—filling the dark sky above them. “I don’t think I’ve looked up at the stars in years.”

She laughed, a heartwarming sound. “And they’ve been up there all the time, shining away, waiting for you to remember them.”

“I guess I’ve forgotten a lot of things. They say you get wiser as you get older, but I’m not so sure.”

“We’re not at the age where you get wiser yet. You have to go through other stages first, like the ones where you dream too big, then have your hopes crushed and get scared.”

“What are you scared of?” She seemed so self-contained, in her neat domestic world, it was hard to imagine her being afraid of anything.

She shrugged, then hugged herself for a second. “Life not working out the way I hope it will. I think we’re both in the phase of life where you start to realize it’s now or never for a lot of things.”

“You sound like my mom. She thinks if I don’t have children this calendar year the Drummonds will vanish from the face of the earth and we’ll both grow old and wizened alone together.”

“I guess that’s what she’s scared of. I don’t suppose you ever grow wise enough to stop worrying about some things. What are you afraid of?”

She fixed her steady blue gaze on him, expecting nothing less than the truth.

“Failure.” He responded with honesty. “For all my success in business, I haven’t succeeded where it matters most.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “You want to have a family, and you’re worried you never will.”

“At this point I’m pretty sure I never will.” She was so easy to talk to. He didn’t feel the need to put on an impenetrable facade with her. “I’ve already tried twice and I know when to admit failure. If my marriage prospects were a publicly traded company I’d be dumping the stock.” A smile crept to his mouth, despite his dismal confession. “Wouldn’t you?”

“No.” She hesitated, and a smile danced in her eyes. “But I’d be looking at how to enhance my business strategy for an increased chance of success. Perhaps a new approach to management, with more carefully selected principals.”

He laughed. “You mean I need better taste in women.”

She shrugged. Moonlight sparkled off her smooth skin. “Worth a try, at least.”

Was Annie the right woman for him? The question hung in the still night air. No doubt she was wondering the same. No one sensible would recommend that a man of his background and position look for love with an “uneducated housekeeper”—but Annie was so much more than the sum of those two dismal words. What she lacked in formal education she’d obviously made up for with reading widely and observing closely. His previous marriages had proved that choosing a highly educated and ambitious mate was not necessarily a recipe for success.

“Where are we headed?”

Her question startled him. “I don’t know. I only know that I enjoy your company immensely. And I think you’re the sweetest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

She stared for a moment, than laughed softly. “I appreciate your frank answer, but I meant, where are we rowing to? The lights from the party are totally out of sight.”

“Don’t worry. I know the Sound like the back of my hand. Rather better, in fact. Who really knows the back of their hand, anyway?” He smiled mysteriously.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” She tried to look stern, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Some people would be very nervous about being sailed off with in the dark with no idea where they’re going.”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.”

He wanted to reach out and reassure her, but couldn’t take his hands off the oars. “We’re going to the private dock of a friend of mine. I keep a boat there, in fact. It’s just around this next headland.” He gestured out into the darkness. You couldn’t see anything now but dark, shimmering water and the broad cloak of stars over their heads, but he knew the curve of the coast like the face of an old friend.

At last the wooded shore beckoned, and he steered the boat into the familiar sheltered cove, where broad stone steps joined the water to the vast lawn of his friend’s Victorian summer house. The house itself was shrouded in darkness, but moonlight illuminated the stone terraces with their sheltered seating areas. He docked the boat and tied it to one of the big, cast iron mooring rings. Annie giggled as he helped her to her feet so she could make a bold leap out of the boat, with her skirts gathered in one hand.

She glanced around. “I feel like we’ve landed at the Taj Mahal.”

“I think that’s what the architect intended. My friend’s great-great-grandfather imported tea from India and wanted to recreate the pavilions of Assam here on Long Island.” He led her through a stone archway to a row of cushioned seats that lined one side of the terrace.

“This should be more comfortable than the boat.” He helped her sit down on the plush cushions. An ornately painted pavilion sheltered them from the moonlight, which filtered through the trees around them.

“I’m slightly worried that you brought me here to take advantage of me.” She raised a slim brow.

“I brought you here so we could be alone together. That doesn’t seem to be possible even in my own house right now.”

“I think it’s sweet the way you’re taking care of your mom. They always say you can tell everything you need to know about a man by the way he treats his mother.”

“Then maybe I’m not quite so dastardly as legend would have you believe.”

She paused and looked at him. “I already know you’re kind and thoughtful.”

He laughed. “Maybe not as much as you think. It’s possible that you have good reason to be worried for your virtue. Any man would be hard-pressed to resist the temptation of being alone in the dark with you.”

In the privacy of the pavilion he let his hungry gaze roam over her, drinking in her soft skin, her gentle eyes, her lush, full mouth. Even her throat looked beautiful, and he fought the urge to kiss the curve of her neck, which sloped down to her pert, high breasts encased so enticingly in the silvery silk.

“As a woman, I have to admit I’m fighting my primal instincts to keep my hands off you, too.” A mischievous smile danced in her eyes. “You look very hot in a tux.”

He chuckled. “I can’t encourage you to fight your instincts. I’m sure it’s far healthier to indulge them.”