Читать книгу Man Overboard - Karen Leabo - Страница 5

Harrison turned his attention back to Aurora, but his thoughts were with Paige. What was troubling her? he wondered. He’d gotten the distinct impression that she wasn’t ill so much as irritated.

Aurora’s gaze was locked on the retreating form of her daughter. “Now I wonder what’s eating her?” she asked with a worried frown, echoing Harrison’s thoughts. “Maybe I should go check on her. She’s prone to seasickness.”

James stood up. “I’ll see that she gets back to her cabin all right.”

“And I’ve got plenty of seasick pills with me,” Doc Waller added, starting to rise also.

“Oh, please, don’t bother,” Aurora argued amiably. “Besides, James, I have a million questions I want to ask you about running a big cruise ship like this one. It must be fascinating work. And you, Doc—the last thing you need is to be taking care of sick people on your vacation. But maybe...” She batted her eyelashes at Harrison. “Would you mind, Harrison, seeing that my niece makes it safely back to her cabin? We’re on the Marlin Deck.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to.” Happier than he’d like to admit. He was supposed to be romancing Aurora, but that was a damned impossible task with her daughter sitting across the table. Now that Paige was out of the way he should lay it on thick. But all he could think about was running after her to find out what the problem was.

Well, Aurora had asked him to do it, he reasoned. And he wanted to please her, right?

“I’ll be back.” He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile as he stood and turned to make his escape.

Harrison had no trouble catching up to Paige. She had paused at the buffet table to sample some Brie cheese on a cracker.

“Must be some headache,” he said from behind her.

She made a startled little noise and whirled around, her face turning pink. “Oh, it’s you. I thought maybe some cheese and crackers would help the headache,” she said, crossing her arms defensively. “Protein and carbohydrate to increase the blood sugar, you know. Besides, Aurora signed us up for the late dinner seating, and I haven’t eaten all day except for those few strawberries.”

He remembered the strawberries. He’d hardly been able to keep his eyes off her as she’d delicately nibbled the juicy red morsels.

“In that case, try some of this Swiss cheese.” He stabbed a small yellow cube with a toothpick and held the tidbit in front of her mouth.

After giving him a suspicious look, she reluctantly parted her moist lips and plucked the cheese cube from the toothpick, then chewed it thoughtfully. “Mmm, you’re right, it is good,” she conceded.

“How about some white cheddar on a wheat cracker?” He cut a generous slice of the thick, white cheese, set it on a cracker and handed it to her. He’d almost held it in front of her mouth again, just for the sensual pleasure of feeding her, but he figured that would be pushing his luck. While she munched on the treat, he popped a slice into his own mouth.

“Headache any better?” he asked.

“I guess I don’t really have a headache,” she admitted. “I just get annoyed watching Mo—Aurora flirt so shamelessly.”

“Why does it annoy you? Flirtation is a dying art, and she’s very good at it. Besides, it’s fun. You ought to try it.”

“No, thanks,” Paige said with a haughty frown. “I’d rather be a bump on a log. I’m very good at that.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you were a bump. In fact, you don’t resemble any part of a log.”

She gave him an appraising look. “Are you flirting with me? Hedging your bets in case Aurora doesn’t take your bait?”

He didn’t answer. She’d caught him. But he couldn’t help himself. Paige Stovall begged to be cajoled into a smile, and he wanted to be the one to do it.

He’d better cut it out, he decided, or he would alienate both women. A man who set his sights on a mother and daughter—or an aunt and her niece, as he was supposed to believe them to be—could only be labeled a jerk.

“Well, I suppose it’s none of my business if you want to throw yourself at Aurora,” Paige said. “But I should warn you, her flirtations are anything but innocent. She’s been married four times.”

Harrison was careful to show the appropriate degree of surprise. “Really?”

“And I’d be leery if I were you. She might have you selected as husband number five.”

“I think you’re exaggerating. We were just enjoying a conversation. But would it bother you terribly if she had set her sights on me?”

“Damn right, it would! She’s old enough to be your...well, your much older sister.”

“I don’t see that age is so important. In fact, I’d guess the age difference between Aurora and me isn’t as great as the one between me and you.” Actually, he was about ten years older than Paige and more than twenty years Aurora’s junior. But he wasn’t supposed to know that.

“The age difference between us isn’t the issue.” She shrugged, though she didn’t appear as unaffected as she pretended. “Think what you like. But I warn you, I won’t let Aurora have her head turned by another handsome younger man, who has nothing in common—”

“You think I’m handsome?”

She blushed again. “What I think about you isn’t important.” She turned away, clearly dismissing him, and left the buffet table.

Harrison wasn’t finished with this conversation. Paige’s concerns about her mother fascinated him. Had she come on this cruise solely to protect Aurora from male predators like the cad she thought him to be?

He followed Paige to the railing, where she paused to look out over the inky blue water. Taking up a position beside her, he said, “If you’re trying to prevent your aunt from marrying another loser, you have nothing to fear from me. I find her charming, but I have no intention of marrying anyone, not in this century.”

Paige tilted her head and looked at him skeptically through slitted green eyes. “So you’d rather use her and drop her? Oh, that’s reassuring.”

“What makes you so sure I intend to ‘use her,’ as you so delicately put it? Couldn’t I just enjoy her company?”

“If that’s all you’re after, you would be an unusual man indeed, certainly for Aurora,” Paige said. Her head was lowered, her face hidden from view by the wide brim of her ridiculous hat.

Wanting to see her face, and those incredible green eyes, he impulsively pulled the hat off her head. She looked up suddenly, surprise and confusion warring on her expressive face.

“Who gave you such a low opinion of men, Paige Stovall?” he asked. When she looked away, refusing to meet his gaze, he touched her chin and gently drew her face toward him again.

“I’m just a realist,” she countered. “When a man approaches a woman, he has one of only two things on his mind.”

“Is that so? Which do I have on my mind right now?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise, and for a moment he worried that she really could read the less-than-pure thoughts in his head.

“I don’t know, and I don’t really care,” she finally answered, grabbing her hat from him and jamming it on her head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my room.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he said affably, despite the withering dismissal she’d just given him.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But I promised Aurora I’d see you safely back to your cabin. She was worried about you. Umm, the elevators are this way,” he added when Paige took a wrong turn.

“How do you already know so much about the ship?” she asked, accepting his company for the moment, the way someone accepts taxes and junk mail. “I thought this was your first cruise.”

“The Mermaid people invited me aboard a day early, so I could observe the cruise preparations. It seems to be a very efficient operation.”

“Then why do they need your money?” Paige asked as she and Harrison stepped aboard the elevator.

“Expansion takes capital. Mermaid wants to build a new ship. I’m looking for a way to shelter some of my income for the next couple of years.” He hoped she didn’t delve any deeper than that into his supposed background. His knowledge of the world of high finance was abstract at best.

Besides, he really hated lying, even if lying was a part of his job. Paige already had a less than sterling opinion of him. He didn’t like giving her more fuel. In fact, he found himself wanting to convince her that there were honorable men on this earth, men who were after more than sex, money and power. He wanted to prove to her that he was just such a man, a man who could value a woman’s intelligence as well as her body, one who enjoyed quiet walks in the moonlight as much as a night of mindless passion in bed.

But he could hardly prove that to her when it wasn’t entirely true. When it came to Aurora, he might not have money or sex on his mind, but he did have an angle, a self-serving angle. And when Paige discovered he wanted to put her mother in jail, he wasn’t likely to climb in her estimation.

When he and Paige arrived at the door to her cabin, she had to fish around in her handbag for the pass card. Harrison leaned one shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms.

“You could at least give me the benefit of the doubt,” he said. “I might not be the ideal match for Aurora, but with me hanging around, she won’t have time to take up with someone even worse than me. That is what you’re worried about, right?”

Paige seemed to consider his words. “If you and Aurora want to spend time together, there’s not much I can do about it. And I suppose she could do worse than to fall for some wealthy financier—if that’s what you are. But just remember this—I’ll be watching. And if I find out you’re not who you say you are, I’ll show no mercy.” She shoved the magnetic card into the slot and jerked it out, then tried the door. It didn’t open.

“You did it too fast,” Harrison said.

“I know how to open a door,” she said impatiently as she repeated the procedure. This time she got the flashing green light, opened the door, stepped inside and closed it again—firmly.

Harrison felt a pang of guilt, and he had to remind himself again that this was all part of his job. He was being paid to catch a jewel thief. But it seemed grossly unfair that the thief’s innocent daughter would be hurt in the process.

On the other side of the thin door, Paige held her breath until she was sure Harrison was gone and then released a long, tension-filled sigh. The nerve of that man, hitting on two women at the same time.

Well, okay, Paige conceded, he hadn’t really been hitting on her. But she’d had this vague but undeniable feeling that something had been going on between them, something sort of...sexual.

Or maybe she was imagining things. As Aurora so often and annoyingly pointed out, Paige was no expert when it came to men and their baffling ways. Maybe it was only wishful thinking on her part that a wealthy, good-looking man like Harrison Powell would take any interest in an ordinary hospital dietitian like her.

She threw the silly navy hat onto her bed, then followed it, sitting gingerly on the mattress and leaning her head against the wall. How was she going to keep Aurora from making a fool of herself over this guy? And did she really want to? Harrison had made a valid point when he’d said that, so long as he kept Aurora interested, she wouldn’t have time to fall in love with an even worse prospect.

An insidious, nasty thought worked its way into Paige’s consciousness. There was one way she might be able to keep Aurora and Harrison apart, and that was to throw herself at Harrison. For her it would be only a meaningless shipboard romance, and through her efforts she might just keep Aurora from walking down the aisle a fifth time. Despite Harrison’s reassurances that he didn’t have marriage on his mind, he might yet fall victim to Aurora’s charisma.

Nice try, she told herself, attempting unsuccessfully to tamp down her bubbling self-disgust. If Harrison had the slightest interest in her—and that was a big if—it was inexcusable of her to even think of stealing the man her mother had her eye on. And if the very idea weren’t laughable, such a despicable act was not the way to bolster her ego and assuage the five-year-old hurt of Curtis Rittenour’s defection.

* * *

When Aurora finally returned from the cocktail party—half-looped, in Paige’s estimation—she solicitously asked after Paige’s headache. Paige resisted the urge to snap, since Aurora had done nothing wrong per se, and gave a noncommittal reply.

“You’ll feel better once you eat some real food,” Aurora soothed. “I heard there’s shark on the menu tonight. James says they have a new French chef who’s marvelous. He has his own TV show and everything.”

“Mmm,” Paige said, waving her hands in the air to dry her recently polished nails. She hadn’t been able to think of any other way to kill time while nursing her supposed headache.

“You know, that James is a very nice-looking man,” Aurora said, “and I think he’s rather intrigued with you. He asked a lot of questions about you.”

“I hope you told him I have a boyfriend who plays linebacker for the Dolphins.”

“Oh, Paige, I told him no such thing. In fact, I made it known that you were quite available. I hope that was all right. Don’t you like James?”

“It wasn’t all right, and no, I don’t particularly like James—at least, not in that way. Please, Mother, stay out of my love life.”

“I’m only trying to help,” Aurora said, undaunted. “What did you come on this cruise for, if not to meet men?”

To keep you from meeting men. “To relax,” she answered as she abruptly stood and began pacing the tiny floor space.

“It doesn’t seem to be working.”

Paige sat down again. “Give it time,” she said, softening. “I’ve only been on board a few hours. I’ll get the hang of it soon.”

By the time they headed for the nine-o’clock dinner seating in the elegant Seascape Dining Room, Paige’s mood had improved. She felt more like herself in an uncomplicated silk sheath and simple accessories, her unruly hair folded into a sophisticated twist atop her head. She wasn’t looking forward to eating shark, no matter who prepared it, but she figured the menu would also include steak or chicken.

Her optimism took an abrupt nosedive when the steward showed them to their table and she saw who else was seated there.

Harrison and James both stood as the ladies approached. “Good evening,” Harrison said as he took Aurora’s hand between his and gave her a peck on the cheek in an irritatingly debonair gesture.

Who did he think he was, Cary Grant? Paige groused inwardly, although she had to admit he looked the part in his starched white shirt, conservative tie and a charcoal jacket that had obviously been tailored to fit his wide shoulders.

“I hope you don’t mind that we arranged to share a table with you,” he said.

“We’re delighted,” Aurora answered smoothly. She looked expectantly at Paige, who remained silent.

The two men and Aurora carried the conversation through most of dinner, sometimes discussing serious topics, other times sharing silly jokes and laughing until their eyes were moist with tears.

No one seemed to mind Paige’s pensiveness. Every so often James would lean over and offer an aside to Paige, speaking in a low voice much too near her ear. His warm breath against her cheek, far from provocative, made her want to flee to her cabin and wash her face.

When the waiter set the shark steak in front of her, Paige questioned her impulsive decision to be brave and try something new. What was she trying to prove, anyway? But she ate it without complaint, hardly tasting it, washing it down with the less-than-palatable Chablis from her constantly filled glass.

After dinner Paige considered calling it a night. It was almost eleven. But she had promised Bobby she would keep an eye on Aurora, so she found herself following the others to the Copacabana Lounge. A small orchestra was doing a creditable job on some big band numbers despite its size. Bobby had once sung with a similar band, and a wave of unexpected nostalgia hit her.

“Would you like to dance?” James asked her.

“Umm, no, actually...” she stammered.

“C’mon, Paige,” he wheedled. “I’m a terrific ballroom dancer. I’ll teach you the steps in no time.”

An amused look passed between mother and daughter. If there was one thing Paige didn’t need lessons on, it was dancing. Touring the country with her father’s band, she had practically grown up in nightclubs, learning everything from the tango to the twist to the Texas two-step.

Harrison was watching her, too, seemingly interested in her response. She felt a sudden, illogical urge to show him that she wasn’t completely inept when it came to social skills.

She smiled up at James. “All right, one dance.”

The band had just launched into “In the Mood,” and she and James fell into an easy jitterbug. James was an adept partner, if not an inspired one, and Paige found that she was almost enjoying herself. They fit well together, James’s less-than-towering height complementing her petite size.

“I think you’re the one who should be giving lessons,” he said when the song ended. “How did you learn to dance like that?”

“My parents taught me,” she said, choosing not to elaborate.

The band started a slower number, and James drew her into his arms for a waltz. She wasn’t as comfortable dancing so close, and she did her best to maintain some distance between their bodies while James did his best to maximize contact.

She glanced wistfully at their table, wondering how she could end the dance without sounding horribly rude, when she saw Harrison watching them, his black gaze practically burning a hole through her.

Rather than pleasing her, as it should have, the look on his face disturbed her.

Fortunately a beeper in James’s coat pocket chose that moment to chirp. “Damn,” he said under his breath as he reluctantly released Paige. “Looks like I’ll have to go take care of some small emergency. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Paige murmured her insincere regrets over his leaving, breathed a quiet sigh of relief and went back to the table.

“How about it, Aurora?” Harrison was saying, apparently oblivious to Paige’s return.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Aurora demurred. “I’m not much for dancing, not tonight, anyway. My feet hurt.”

What? Paige thought. Since when did her mother not like to dance?

“Besides, I need to go powder my nose,” Aurora continued. “If you’re set on dancing, why don’t you give Paige a try?”

Paige gave a small gasp as they both looked expectantly at her. Dance with Harrison? The mere thought made her dizzy. Or maybe that was just the wine.

“Would you like to dance, Paige?” Harrison asked politely. “If James doesn’t mind, that is.”

That infuriated her. “James was called away on business,” she informed him icily. “But I’m sure he doesn’t give a fig whom I dance with, nor would I care if he did.”

“Good.” Harrison stood and took her hand, urging her out of her chair.

Aurora leaned over to Paige and whispered, “Don’t let him dance with anyone else, particularly not that stacked brunette who keeps making cow eyes at him from across the room. I’ll be back shortly.”

It appeared Paige had no choice but to acquiesce. It irked her that her mother thought her to be far less of a threat than the silicone-implanted bimbo. It irked her again that she even cared.

The band was playing another slow, dreamy number, and Harrison drew her easily into his arms. He was not so skillful a dancer as James, but he was obviously comfortable with his own body and his movements. In moments they were dancing in harmony, despite the height difference between them. He held her not too stiffly, yet not too close, either.

“Could you at least try to appear as if you’re enjoying this?” Harrison said. “People will think I’m pulling your fingernails out one by one instead of dancing with you.”

Little did he know that he was inflicting a very different brand of torture on her. His nearness caused her body to respond, despite her efforts to remain indifferent. She was acutely aware of his hard, lean torso brushing against hers, the warmth of his hand enveloping hers, the strength of his shoulder where she touched him, the subtle, spicy fragrance of his after-shave.

And the way he looked at her. She could have easily drowned in those brown eyes, which seemed so sincere.

She forced a smile.

“That’s a little better. Why do you dislike me so intensely?

“It’s habit,” she replied, not even bothering to deny the accusation. “I’ve never liked any of Aurora’s suitors. She tends to attract a certain brand of man.”

“What if I’m different?” he countered, his hand making slow, sensual circles at the small of her back. “What if I’m gainfully employed, financially secure and a gentleman without designs on Aurora’s matrimonial status?”

Paige didn’t answer. The feel of his hand, warm and insistent through the silk of her dress, had paralyzed her brain and turned her body into one big nerve ending.

“Well, it’s possible, isn’t it?” he prompted.

With no small effort Paige collected her wits. What was she doing? What was she allowing him to do?

“You may be gainfully employed and financially secure,” she said evenly. “But a gentleman? For the past few minutes you’ve been rubbing circles on my back, and now your hand is perilously close to a part of my anatomy that shouldn’t be fondled in public. In conclusion, only a cur dog pursues two females at the same time, much less two females who are close to each other. This dance is finished, Mr. Powell. And when I tell Aurora what you’re up to, you’ll be finished with her, as well.”

Looking a bit startled at her vehement outburst, he dropped his hands, allowing her to escape.

Paige resisted the urge to run. Her face flaming, she left the dance floor, bypassed their table and headed straight for the exit. A detached part of her applauded her blistering speech. Her outrage was perfectly justified; the dressing down was no more than the cad deserved.

But another, more frightened part of herself was forced to admit that she’d liked the way he’d been touching her. For the first time in years she’d felt the full force of her own healthy, feminine response to a man’s touch, complete with watery knees, fluttering stomach, heart palpitations and an insistent tug deep in her abdomen, an ache that begged for fulfillment.

If she hadn’t willfully summoned up that anger, she would have melted against him, turned her face upward and accepted the kiss she knew had been on his mind.

She probably would have enjoyed it, too.