Tidewater Lover (9 page)

Absently she heard the sound of a car driving into the garage, but it was Cole's footsteps on the stairs that finally broke her brooding stance in front of the windows facing the ocean.

She remembered too late that she had intended to be in bed before Cole returned. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. It was nearly eleven. She turned as Cole paused at the top of the stairs to glance around.

"Bowman's left?" he asked for her confirmation.

"A couple, three hours ago," acknowledged Lacey, unaware of the vaguely dejected note that had crept into her voice.

His gaze became fixed on her, the electric blue of his eyes so intent that she had to turn away, afraid of what he might be seeing. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. A nervous reaction to the night's tension, she told herself.

"It didn't go very well with Bowman, did it?
"
Cole observed, crossing the room to where Lacey stood.

She blinked at him in surprise, then had to look away again to avoid the disturbing study of his eyes. He was much too observant and astute. As he stood tall beside her, tanned and vital, she also had to admit that he was rather overpoweringly male.

"No, it didn't," she answered truthfully.

"Didn't he believe you?"
 

"Mike believed that the arrangement was all perfectly innocent all right." Lacey laughed shortly without humor. "He just doesn't approve."

"I suppose you argued and that's why he left so early?"

Lacey shook her head in denial. "We didn't argue."

Maybe it would have been better if they had, but it would have meant an open breach between them. After tonight, she guessed that they would just drift apart—be employer and employee and nothing more. In a way it was sad that it was going to turn out that way.

"I knew you worked for Bowman, but it never occurred to me that you were going with him," Cole mused.

Her sideways glance observed him gazing out to sea, a thoughtful expression on his bluntly carved features. The suggestion of grimness around his mouth made her want to reach out with her fingers and smooth it away. It reminded her too much of the autocratic Mr. Whitfield who had so often infuriated her over the telephone.

"It's nothing serious between Mike and me," she said, correcting his impression that she was going with Mike. "We've dated a few times, that's all. It isn't likely to develop into any more than that, either."

"Because of tonight?" Again the dark blue eyes were studying her profile, alert to any nuance in her expression.

"No, not really." Which was true. "Mike just naturally shies away from any relationship that starts to become serious. I think you can truly say he's a confirmed bachelor." Lacey smiled.

"And that doesn't bother you?" An eyebrow flicked upward in curiosity.

"No. I enjoy working with Mike and he's good company away from the office—no more than that." A breeze stirred the edge of the drawn curtain, briefly ruffling the hair curling near her ear.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey saw Cole stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. She felt a twinge of guilt. He had stayed away to give her and Mike some time alone. He had probably intended to have an early night after a quiet, relaxing day.

"You'd better get some sleep," she suggested. "You have to work tomorrow."

"Are you calling it a night?" he questioned, tiredly rubbing his neck.

"Mmm, I don't think so." A smile flitted across her lips. She wasn't sleepy. "I'm not the least bit tired, and since I'm on my vacation, I can sleep as late as I want in the morning. I think I'll go out on the balcony for a while and enjoy the night air."

Cole didn't move as she stepped past him to the glass-paned balcony door. She strolled to the railing, leaning both hands on it as she gazed at the moon-silvered rippling of the ocean's waves.

It was a warm, languid night spiced with the tang of salt air. A firm tread sounded on the board planks of the balcony and she glanced over her shoulder, momentarily surprised to see Cole join her at the railing. She had thought he was turning in for the night.

"What's the matter, Lacey?" he asked quietly.

"What's the matter?" she repeated blankly, and faked a laugh. "Nothing is wrong."

"Isn't it?" persisted Cole.

His dark eyes were as midnight blue as the sky, shimmering with mysterious, indistinguishable flecks of starlight. They seemed fathomless to Lacey, and disconcerting as they remained steadfastly focused on her face.

"I don't know what you mean." She stared straight ahead, fixing her attention on the gleaming path of moonlight on the water.

"Don't you?" His fingers caught her chin and turned her head toward his searching gaze.

"When I walked in tonight, I could tell something was bothering you. At first I thought it was because you and Bowman had argued, but you corrected that impression. So it must be something else that's troubling you, and I'd like to know what it is."

"It has nothing to do with you." Lacey tried to twist away from his fingers, but Cole increased the pressure to keep her facing him.

"I think it has something to do with me," he argued quietly. "Indirectly perhaps, but I'm guessing that it's about our arrangement. Am I right?"

Lacey sighed in defeat. She swore he could partially read her mind, and she didn't know whether she liked that or not.

"It's silly," she protested.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Cole let his hand slide from her chin to rest casually on her shoulder.

"It's just that I'm slowly beginning to realize I'm not quite as liberal and freethinking as I thought I was," Lacey conceded. "I never thought other people's opinions would bother me as long as I believed that what I was doing was right. I'm finding out that I'm a bit more old-fashioned and traditional than I thought."

"Because of Monica's and Vic's reaction to our sharing the house. And Bowman's disapproval, as well," Cole concluded.

"More or less," she nodded, her dark brown hair catching and reflecting the sheen of the moonlight. "I mean, I know it's perfectly innocent," she insisted forcefully.

"So now you're having second thoughts about staying here," Cole finished.

"Oh, no, I'm not." Lacey laughed, a tremulous sound. "I bet you were hoping that's what I would say, then you could have that big fat moon all to yourself." She flicked a glance toward the silver globe hanging suspended above the ocean.

"Strangely enough—" a furrow made a vertical crease between his brows "—I think I would find the house empty if you left."

His statement hovered in the air, electrifying her. She had difficulty trying to breathe and there was an odd flattering in the pit of her stomach.

The hand on her shoulder began, almost imperceptibly, to exert pressure to draw her closer as his gaze slid to her lips. Caught in his spell, it didn't occur to her to resist, although Cole gave her the opportunity. His boldly defined mouth slowly descended to hers.

With a firmness absent of demand, he explored every curve of her full, soft lips. His hand lay along the side of her neck, his thumb resting against the tiny pulse that was racing madly. The blood tingled through her veins, setting every nerve alert.

He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, the scent of tobacco in the warm breath that caressed her skin. "Strawberry, isn't it?" he murmured huskily.

"What?" Lacey opened her eyes weakly and was immediately overcome by the sensation that she could drown in his indigo eyes.

"Your lipstick. It's strawberry, isn't it?" Cole repeated softly, and tasted her trembling lower lip.

"Yes," she whispered, and unconsciously swayed toward him.

"I always did have a weakness for strawberry." It was an absent comment. Lacey doubted if Cole was aware that he had said it aloud.

Then his mouth opened moistly over hers, devouring its ripeness as his strong fingers curled into the back of her neck, tilting her head backward to more fully receive his burning kiss. His other arm reached for her waist and Lacey pliantly let herself be arched against his hard, muscled length.

With consummate skill, Cole demanded a response and she gave it quite naturally. Her fingers spread over his chest to slide around his neck into the thickness of his dark hair. A melting sensuality seemed to flow through her limbs as his mouth faultlessly continued its task of arousal until her hunger became an exquisite pain.

The light breeze from the ocean cooled her heated skin, but it couldn't abate the molten fire spreading through her veins. His experience far outstripped hers and she gloried in it, finding a heady exultation in the heights of abandoned passion.

The embrace that had begun so slowly ended abruptly with Cole pushing her an arm's length away. Dazed by the unexpected rejection, Lacey looked at him with inviting, luminously brown eyes. She could hear his ragged breathing and quivered at the sound.

A pained yet wry smile crooked his mouth. "You'll have to forgive me for that, Lacey." His voice was low and roughly controlled.

"Yes…" But it was more of a question than it was an answer.

"You're a potent little package and more vulnerable than I realized," he added, exhaling a long breath.

"So are you," she admitted shakily, still confused. "But I don't see why you should apologize for kissing me. I may have said I was old-fashioned, but I'm not a prude."

"I wish you were." Cole smiled ruefully.

"That's an odd thing to say," Lacey murmured. He wasn't making any sense to her.

"'Is it?" He let go of her arms and she had to stand without his support. Her knees trembled for an instant before they found the necessary strength.

"I think it is," she insisted.

"Our agreement isn't even twenty-four hours old and I was on the verge of breaking one of our first ground rules," Cole stated in a mocking tone. "No sex."

Crimson flamed through her cheeks and just as quickly burned itself out, leaving her complexion unnaturally pale as she acknowledged the truth of his observation. She had lost control of herself for a moment.

There was no telling for certain just how far she might have let Cole go before she came to her senses. It was a sobering discovery.

He watched her changing color for a silent minute before he smiled gently. "Good night, Lacey." Turning on his heel, he walked into the house.

"Good night," Lacey echoed him faintly, and doubted if her voice had been strong enough to carry into the house to him.

She pivoted back to the ocean view, shivering at the sudden chill that danced over her arms. The fires inside of her were slowly being brought under control.

She remembered Cole's saying that the situation between them wouldn't get out of hand unless they permitted it. They had both come dangerously close to it. Cole had been the first to realize it, but it was just hitting Lacey now.

Chapter Five

THE BUZZ of the alarm clock hammered at her eardrums, and with a groan, Lacey rolled onto her side. She must have set the clock last night out of habit.

Her fumbling hand reached out for the knob to switch it off, only to discover the alarm wasn't turned on. Still the buzzing sound continued to drone its wake-up call.

Frowning, Lacey forced her eyes open. It was several seconds before she realized that the sound was coming from Cole's bedroom. It was his alarm clock she was hearing. She grabbed the second pillow and crushed it over her ears, trying to drown out the sound, but it continued with monotonous persistence.

"Oh, why don't you wake up and turn that darn thing off?" she moaned into the pillow. But the buzzing didn't stop. "I'll never get back to sleep!"

Angrily she tossed the pillow away and stumbled out of bed. She walked over to pound on the bedroom wall, remembering too late that the bathroom was between the two guest rooms. Grabbing her housecoat, she shrugged into it as she stalked into the hallway to Cole's door.

She hammered on it with her fist. "Shut that alarm off!" It kept right on buzzing. "Cole!"

There was an answering squeak of the bedsprings, then blissful silence. Sighing, Lacey hurried back into her own room and crawled under the covers, housecoat and all. As she closed her eyes, she heard his door open and the firm padding of his bare feet in the hall.

The bathroom door opened and closed. A few seconds later the shower was turned on full force, the hammering of its spray sounding as loud and as nerve-racking as the alarm clock.

"I want to go to sleep," Lacey moaned in self-pity.

Within a few short minutes, another sound joined that of the rushing water in the shower. "Oh, no," she groaned, "he isn't!" She listened. "He is. He's singing in the shower. That does it!"

The bedclothes were thrown aside again. It was absolutely pointless to try to go back to sleep now. She stalked angrily into the kitchen, opening and slamming the refrigerator door to get some orange juice and repeating the procedure when she put it back.

While she sipped at her juice, she readied the percolator to make coffee, perversely hoping that when she filled the pot with cold water, Cole would get scalded with hot water in the shower. After plugging the pot in, she hopped onto the tall stool at the kitchen's counter bar.