Читать книгу Breathless on the Beach - Wendy Etherington - Страница 10

WITH HIS HANDS FULL OF THE elegant and volatile Victoria, Jared fought to keep his touch soft. Being tentative wasn’t really in his nature, but though his instinct was to press her against the nearest wall and ravage her like some randy cowboy who’d ridden the range for far too long, he didn’t think that impulse would fly.

He pulled her close, and angling his head, slid his tongue past her lips. He kept his moves slow, steady … enticing. She let a low moan escape, and desire shot through him as if he’d touched a live wire.

He moved his hands down to her hips, holding her against his erection. The pressure felt both amazing and frustrating.

Breathing hard, she jerked back.

He’d pushed too hard, too fast. Shoving his hands in his back pockets, he grappled for composure. Hell.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice strained. “I shouldn’t have—”

He held up his hands. “I made the first move.”

“I wanted you to.” Clearly regretful, she shook her head. Her perfect, creamy skin was flushed. Her crystal blue eyes reflected confusion. “We have nothing in common.”

His gaze met hers. “No, I’d say we have exactly one thing in common.”

She didn’t flinch. He hadn’t expected her to. “I guess we do.”

He licked his lips and tasted cotton candy. His palms tingled with the need to touch her again.

“It’s my lip gloss,” she said, obviously realizing the nature of his struggle. “It’s flavored.”

“Like candy? I would’ve laid money on you preferring steak au poivre.”

“Meat-flavored lip gloss?”

“Right.” He reconsidered. Obviously, he had steak on his mind. Or his stomach. “Champagne?”

She gave him her first genuine smile. “That’s more like it.”

He extended his hand, which she took. “I bet we can find you some in this palace.”

“That’s an adventure I can get excited about.”

They headed downstairs, and though she let go of his hand when they reached the ground floor, he felt they’d crossed a bridge together. He wouldn’t have bet cotton candy and smiles could come with a single kiss, but he figured if he was going to pursue this attraction—and he was—he ought to get used to surprises.

In the parlor, most of the other guests were assembled for the cocktail hour.

The men, with the exception of Peter, were drinking whiskey, while the women, plus Peter, enjoyed champagne. Jared and Victoria exchanged a knowing glance, but he otherwise kept his distance.

This contract was important to her, and he wasn’t going to be the one to spoil her plans.

Especially since he had his own ideas for her. And them.

Bottled-up stress required a release, after all. He’d be happy to provide her plenty of physical activity to burn off the tension. A Jet Ski or boat-related outing would do her wonders.

Rose, as she was famous for, made a dramatic entrance.

Wearing a peacock-blue silk gown, completely overdone for both the season and the occasion, she swept into the parlor when everyone was half into their drinks and Mrs. K had already brought a round of hors d’oeuvres.

“I’m so sorry to be late,” Rose said breathlessly. “I couldn’t seem to get my hair to do anything tonight.”

Her deep red hair was perfect, as always. But trouble with her style wasn’t likely to be the main topic of conversation, since around her neck lay a stunning diamond-and-sapphire necklace. The fathomless blue center stone was octagonal-shaped and easily the size of an egg.

As the women stared—Peter’s wife, Emily, let out an actual gasp—Richard smiled indulgently at his mother’s antics and poured her a glass of champagne.

“You’re not the last to arrive, Mother,” he said, handing her the cut crystal. “Sal isn’t here yet.”

Rose’s pink-painted mouth moved into a pout. “I can’t imagine what’s keeping him.”

“He’s probably looking for his sunglasses,” Ruthie said in an uncharacteristic show of bitchiness.

The necklace was a bit blinding.

Richard quickly covered his wife’s gaffe by introducing Rose to her guests. Jared got a flirty smile, which he was used to with Rose. He wondered if boyfriend Sal, who could be anywhere from twenty to eighty, given Rose’s predilections, was the possessive type.

“I trust you have everything you need to give my guests an unforgettable weekend?” she asked.

“I do.” Jared brushed his lips across her powdered cheek. “But you’ll be the one who’s remembered.”

“Jared,” Peter said, his tone teasing, “you can’t have the keys to the boats and the full attention of our beautiful hostess.”

More smoothly than Jared would have previously given him credit for, the executive led Rose to a settee and launched into a string of compliments about the estate.

Having already become buddy-buddy with Richard on the golf course, apparently the PR man had decided to move on to bigger, more powerful prey. It was a smart choice. Richard was certainly a momma’s boy. If Rose preferred Peter over Victoria, the Rutherford Securities contract would go to him.

Victoria didn’t miss a beat and positioned herself next to Richard. “Is it rude to talk about business before dinner?”

“Not if that’s what you want to do,” he said graciously. Bracketed between his wife and the stunning Victoria, he seemed, in fact, more than pleased. He directed a wink at Calla. “I assume we can count on your discretion about our developing products and strategies.”

“I’m a reporter at heart,” she said in her twanging Texas accent. “I know how to protect my sources.”

With three women focused on him, and Jared as a standby to impress, Richard gave a description of his new safe. The words state-of-the-art were used five times and breakthrough technology no less than three. “The digital control panel can be configured for your own four-digit code, voice print or, on the superior model, a retina scan. It’s breakthrough technology.”

Okay, four.

“Fascinating,” Victoria said, looking for all the world as if she believed it.

“Interesting” was Calla’s neutral response, just before she shot her friend a questioning look and took a sip of champagne.

Ruthie smiled indulgently at her husband. “Isn’t he clever?”

Actually, a team of engineers and computer techs were clever.

Twenty years ago.

The whole fawning business turned Jared’s stomach. Because one of the fawners was the woman he wanted? Probably.

But not completely.

Jared’s conscience warned him to sip his whiskey and say nothing. But he couldn’t keep his reservations to himself. Victoria would probably wind up promoting this flawed product. “Don’t many governments, including our own, already use codes with much higher numbers than four, plus voice prints and retina scans for access to sensitive rooms and data?”

“Perhaps,” Richard admitted. “Not that they’re willing to share the technology behind their developments. The area of personal security is largely ignored for higher purposes. It’s time we take back control of our own lives and valuables. My safe will allow the common man to dictate his own destiny.”

Why would he need a PR firm? It seemed obvious Richard could orchestrate his own publicity just fine.

“I wasn’t aware of your interest in security, Jared,” Richard added with a smug smile. “You know something about codes, voice prints and retina scans?”

“Sure. I’ve watched a spy movie in the last decade.”

Victoria scowled; Calla covered up a laugh with a cough.

“Fiction,” Ruthie reminded him. “Who takes that seriously?”

“People don’t trust banks. Or the government.” Richard held tight to his glass, his annoyance obvious by his white-knuckled grip. “We’re giving them another option.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea for the times,” Victoria said, her gaze shifting to Jared’s long enough to deliver a warning glare. Richard, naturally, got a dazzling smile. “It’ll be the next big thing. Tell him about the ability to change the code remotely with a mobile device.”

“If the security is compromised for any reason,” Richard began, “an alarm will sound on the mobile device you choose, allowing you to either change your code or lock down the safe.”

“Compromising the security of a safe involves opening the door,” Jared pointed out. “By the time you punch in the new code, the thief’s already run off with your valuables.”

Their host looked smug. “The alarm begins with the first incorrect number pressed on the keypad.”

“What if the safe owner presses the wrong number?” he asked.

“Then obviously he or she will ignore the warning alarm,” Richard said easily.

“Plus the code’s only four numbers,” Jared reminded him. “By the time you get the signal and reconfigure—even if you’re holding your precious mobile device next to your ear at the time—the thief’s already inside.”

“It works,” Richard insisted. “I’ve seen it.”

Victoria laid her hand on his shoulder. “Of course it does.”

The woman who had vibrated at Jared’s touch, whose lips had moaned for his kiss mere minutes ago, was focused totally on Richard. The contract. Winning.

Maybe he’d been kidding himself about her response, about the need they shared. “Sorry.” He gave his host a curt nod. The security might work, and perhaps Richard was explaining the technology wrong—not surprising, actually. “My bad. I need some air. I’ll see all of you at dinner.”

Jared strode down the hall, through the kitchen and out the back door. If Victoria wanted to play Richard’s game, she was welcome to it. He wanted a different kind of adventure.

DINNER WAS DELICIOUS. If only the conversation surrounding the meal could measure up.

Victoria needed a much sharper knife than the sterling silver one beside her to cut the underlying tension.

Richard maintained his role as charming host, Ruthie relaxed her criticism of her mother-in-law and Rose soaked up everyone’s praise. But they also tiptoed around the obvious minefield of Victoria and Peter being office rivals and fighting for the same contract—the one controlled by the charming host.

Plus, Victoria could practically see waves of resentment rolling off Jared, like a tsunami destined specifically for her.

Getting the safe to work was the engineers’ problem. She just had to convince people to buy the damn thing. And why Jared cared a whit about quality control at Rutherford Securities, she had no idea. He and Richard seemed determined to be at odds with each other.

She shouldn’t be surprised. In her experience, different types often disagreed.

Richard was upper-crust Southampton; Jared was humble Western cowboy.

And why the latter suddenly had such great appeal, she had no idea. Though, as much as she loved her job, she had to admit that lately she’d found unexpected pleasure in attending her family’s charity events, reminding her that some people were still genuinely surprised by kindness. Victoria spent most of her waking hours in boardrooms. It was the only life she knew. But seeing her hard work benefit somebody besides her financial advisor and her own ego was refreshing.

Sal Colombo, Rose’s gentleman friend, was charming, affluent and genuine. Unlike the men she’d dated, success didn’t always translate to an overblown ego. In her fierce drive to the top, she’d somehow forgotten that.

“The pork is excellent,” David Greggory, Sal’s personal assistant, said, bringing Victoria back to the dinner conversation. “I wonder what spices the chef used.”

“Knowing Shelby, something handmade by Italian nuns.”

Sitting next to her, David frowned. “Nuns are great cooks? Maybe I should have gone to church more often.”

Victoria blinked. Humor was largely lost on this gathering. David was clearly witty as well as efficient. About thirty years old, he had blond hair, a plain face and wasn’t wildly attractive, but was dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit, which made her certain he knew his way around uptown Manhattan.

“How long have you been with Sal?” she asked him.

“Six months. I worked in the city for years and was burning out fast.”

Victoria nodded. Though she thrived on the energy there, she knew others who didn’t. The pace could be brutal.

“I decided to change course,” David continued. “Now the most challenging feat I accomplish is managing Sal’s social calendar. It’s heaven.”

Victoria would go nuts in thirty seconds. But David looked tanned and content, so it must be working for him. He’d consulted with Rose on the decorations for the grand Sunday night party, and since he’d found himself at loose ends for the weekend, he’d been included among the houseguests at the last minute.

Rose laughed just then, drawing Victoria’s attention. Jared was leaning close, obviously the source of amusement. How nice.

If only she didn’t have to look across the table at his handsome profile, she could remember she wasn’t here for hot kisses and moonlit nights. She was here to get a contract.

But the man was a serious pleasure to have in her sights.

Rose laid her hand alongside Jared’s rugged jaw as she spoke to him, and his smile flashed.

Okay, maybe Victoria was a little jealous.

While Mrs. K cleared the dishes, Sal settled back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “You should tell your guests about the history of your necklace, my dear.” His pale blue eyes sparkled. “It’s quite a tale.”

“Well …” Rose gestured with her right hand, the middle finger of which was dominated by what had to be at least a seven caret yellow diamond. “Sal is right, as always. First off, it’s rumored to be cursed by jealousy.”

Peter froze with his lips against his water goblet. Victoria’s gaze flicked to Jared before returning to Rose. And Emily’s attention shot to her husband’s profile.

Not that anybody at this table would know anything about jealousy.

With that thought, Victoria recalled the adventure she and her friends had embarked on in the spring, project Robin Hood.

Shelby’s parents had been the victims of a retirement swindle. And with the cops not taking a serious interest in the case, the three friends had boldly taken the law into their own hands and gotten justice for those they loved.

As it turned out, envy had had a starring role in this latest tale, as well.

Tracing the edge of the diamond-encircled sapphire, Rose continued her story. “The sapphire is 99 carats and was mined in Sri Lanka in the 1920s. The diamonds were added by an expert jeweler and set into a necklace for Olivia Howinger, a famous European actress of the day. Her beauty drove men to madness. Alabaster skin, radiant blue eyes, and of course, she was a redhead.” Rose patted her own auburn curls. “But the man who finally captured her heart was a hotheaded Italian count. Unfortunately for both of them, the attention Olivia received from men didn’t end at her marriage. They continued to send her flowers and gifts, flirt with her at parties and restaurants. The count was beside himself with jealousy and determined to make himself the sole focus of his wife’s attention.

“So he had the necklace commissioned and presented to her on her birthday. Which only served to bring more attention to Olivia. One night, he walked into a busy French restaurant, expecting to see his wife waiting for him at their favorite table, only to find another man in his seat. The count shot them both on the spot.”

“How horrible,” Emily whispered, as if the scene were playing out before them.

“In a delicious way,” Rose said, winking. “The necklace was sold at the auction of the count’s estate after he was hanged, and ever since, it’s inspired envy and possessiveness in all who’ve laid eyes on its flawless beauty.”

Calla, Sal and Peter clapped. David shifted in his seat. Victoria’s gaze found Jared’s, and the heat between them surged brief ly, before he glanced away again. They weren’t compatible in the least, she reminded herself, and the sooner she accepted that, the easier this weekend would be.

“Bravo, darling,” Sal said, patting Rose’s hand.

Though it was an engaging story, real people had died. It seemed incredible that a single woman or a sparkling blue rock could cause so much suffering, but kingdoms had risen and fallen for less.

And while Victoria loved pretty things and had her share of sparkles, she couldn’t understand wanting to own something with such a bloody history. Rose was an entirely different kind of woman.

Notorious is as notorious does.

“Thankfully, she has a foolproof safe to keep the gems out of greedy hands,” Richard said, his expression smug.

Rose smiled indulgently at her son. “What would I do without you, dear?”

For a second, Ruthie looked as though she might suggest something—and not a nice something—but then she pushed back her chair. “Why don’t we have coffee and dessert in the sunroom? The sunset is lovely from there.”

As they all walked toward the back of the house, Victoria found herself behind Jared and Calla. “Quite a story,” her friend said to him.

“It’d make a nice sidebar to your magazine piece,” he suggested, angling his face toward her.

When had they discussed Calla’s article? During the Jet Ski ride Victoria wasn’t interested in so she wouldn’t mess up her hair? Why did that suddenly seem stupid and superficial? And why did he and Calla have to look so lovely together?

Calla shook her head. “I doubt Rose would let me take pictures for publication. I sure wouldn’t want everybody to know I owned something so valuable.”

“I doubt Rose will care,” Jared said. “She’s got a foolproof safe, after all.”

When Calla laughed, Victoria took the opportunity to move around the two and make her way out to the patio, where she pretended to concentrate on the sunset.

She couldn’t possibly be jealous of her friend, any more than she had been of Rose during dinner. Victoria didn’t work herself up into a lather about men. And she certainly didn’t care who Jared spoke to, flirted with, or anything else.

Her attraction to him was an anomaly. Any woman would be fascinated by him. But Victoria didn’t generally follow the crowd. She’d always forged her own path, no matter how hard it might seem.

That damn necklace probably was cursed by jealousy. Had to be. Why else was she fuming in the middle of a magnificent sunset?

She should be with Richard, regaling him with her brilliant ideas for the campaign. In fact … was there a way to convince him and Rose to use the necklace in print ads? I trust my son with my most valuable possessions. Shouldn’t you?

Cute and sweet, but with the added hits of scandal and class.

It was a possibility. Or at least a place to start.

Cheered, she joined everyone else in the sunroom in time to hear Jared suggest a boat ride after dessert. All the guests agreed, and Ruthie insisted Mrs. K and Shelby come along, as well.

On the way to the dock where the small yacht was anchored, several people complimented Shelby and the housekeeper on the delicious meal. Mrs. K beamed, and Shelby accepted the comments with her usual modest professionalism. Victoria felt certain that even if this weekend did nothing for her or Calla, Shelby would gain new bookings.

With the sun’s heat fading, and a breeze kicked up by the elegant boat cutting through the waves, the night had turned divine.

Victoria stood at the stern, watching the wake chop the sea to a frothy tower of white. How long had it been since she’d let her hair tangle as salty wind whipped against her skin?

Her parents had a place near Rose’s. She rarely came out. She was too busy working, making contacts, bustling around the city. No wonder Jared enjoyed his job so much.

Not that she’d trade her future corner office for a faceful of sea spray, but she could understand the appeal.

“Hi, sweetie,” Shelby said as she slid her arm around Victoria’s waist. “Catching a wave?”

Victoria extended her hand over the side of the boat, felt the cool sprinkle of droplets. “Nearly.”

Calla bracketed Victoria on the other side. “Any chance we’re going to get you more than fingertip deep in that water?”

“Yeah.” Victoria tucked her blowing hair behind her ears so she could see her friends. “I might dangle my feet.”

“In the pool,” Calla added, clearly skeptical.

Shelby smirked. “Wearing a big hat and a heavy layer of sunscreen.”

“You’re dissing sunscreen?” Victoria asked.

“No way,” Shelby said.

Calla grinned. “Provided the tough, tanned and broad-shouldered Jared McKenna doesn’t use it all up.”

Shelby’s eyes lit with interest. “He’s quite something, isn’t he?”

“I was finally in a good mood, I really was,” Victoria lamented, then pointed at Shelby. “And you have a man. Stop lusting after …” She stopped, bit back a curse.

Fighting the wind, Calla wrangled her long blond locks into a ponytail. “After yours?”

“Jared isn’t mine,” Victoria insisted.

Calla leaned in. “But he could be.”

Despite herself, Victoria was curious how Calla had gleaned that information. “How do you know?”

“I’ve got eyes,” she said a little too casually. “I see him staring at you.”

“And you looking back,” Shelby stated.

The last time her pals had those determined expressions on their faces, Victoria had found herself neck-deep in an undercover sting operation against an unscrupulous retirement-fund swindler. “Are you two going to bug me about this guy all weekend?”

“Yes,” they answered together.

“Fine, then. I like him.” Facing her friends, Victoria was careful to keep her voice brisk and not allow her imagination to provide visual aids of the man in question. “He’s smart, strong-willed, resilient and irritating.”

“And gorgeous,” Calla added, poking Victoria’s arm.

“I’ve got eyes.” Victoria narrowed hers. “I can see that.”

“How’s he irritating?” Shelby asked. “I think he’s charming.”

“He’s … challenging,” Victoria returned, deciding that was the right word to describe the alternating highs of attraction and lows of annoyance she felt in Jared’s presence.

“You like challenges.” Calla’s attention flicked to a point over Victoria’s shoulder. “Don’t you?” she asked, her voice louder.

What was with her? “Sure, but …” Victoria glanced behind her.

Where Jared stood.

Her heart stopped—and not just because she was curious about who might be steering the boat. “How long have you been there?”

He looked thoughtful. “Let me think….” Then he gave her a broad smile. “You like me.”

Victoria whirled to her friends and hoped her glare scorched them on the spot.