Читать книгу Breathless on the Beach - Wendy Etherington - Страница 8

WHILE THE SUN BURNED invitingly outside, Jared drank tea and learned tons of useless information.

The temperature was ninety-one, the traffic was murder, a local politician had been caught in an illicit affair with his assistant, and Richard and Peter had played golf earlier in the week, which led Rich to tell his buddy about the new safe and the impending PR campaign.

Jared didn’t consider chasing a little white ball across manicured lawns an actual sport, but he recognized that more deals were made during such mundane silliness than were negotiated in boardrooms.

Standing in the corner, since he didn’t trust the structural integrity of Rose’s antique furniture, he bit into a cookie and realized one positive thing—Chef Shelby could cook.

He had no doubt Victoria was mad enough to chew nails, but she held her teacup and smiled indulgently as the golfing buddies recounted their round.

“Are they going to tell us about every stroke on every hole?” he asked Shelby, who had approached him with an offer of more cookies, which he gratefully took.

“Apparently.” Watching the pair demonstrate teeing off at hole fifteen, she angled her head, seeming to feel the same confusion Jared did. “Guys at home in Georgia brag about shooting animals in the woods and drinking beer.”

“Guys in Montana are pretty much the same.”

“Richard isn’t really going to hire that goofy suck-up Peter over Victoria, is he?”

“I’m not sure management is his strong suit.”

Shelby focused on Jared, obviously suspicious about how a ski and scuba expert understood corporate hiring. “Oh?”

“Not my specialty, either,” he said casually. He was going to have to be more careful what he said if he planned to pull off his disguise as a mere employee. “‘Course, I’ve made bad decisions myself. He once talked me into letting him parasail.”

“Sounds fun. How was that a bad idea?”

“He’s afraid of heights.”

“Which he discovered once he was a hundred feet in the air, I’ll bet.”

Jared winked. “You got it.”

“I can’t imagine what’s keeping Mother,” Richard said loudly, dragging Jared’s attention back to the rest of the group.

“Oh, gee,” Shelby muttered to Jared. “We’ve already gone through all eighteen holes?”

“Seemed like a lot more.”

As Shelby laughed, Victoria glared in Jared’s direction. What’d he do? Turncoat Richard got indulgent smiles, and he got the brunt of her temper? How was that fair?

He could use some fresh air. “I’m sure Rose’ll be down in a minute,” he said to the assembly. “While we’re waiting, why don’t we head outside? I’ll show everybody what we’ve got planned for the weekend.”

Setting their teacups aside, the group followed Jared out of the room.

“I’m not really good with animals,” Victoria said as she passed him at the back door.

Richard moved up beside her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Not to worry. The horses are upstate in a show. Jared has water sports set up—Jet Skis, fishing gear and scuba equipment. Something for everybody.”

She fixed her gaze on Jared. “All that, huh?”

He stared right back. “I’ll be happy to demonstrate anything you think you might like.”

Calla, walking behind Victoria, giggled, clearly getting the double meaning in his offer. Victoria ignored him and picked up her pace down the brick stairs.

She was going to fall and break her neck in those ridiculous shoes.

Before he followed the guests, he noticed Shelby and Mrs. K loading the dishwasher. “Come on, ladies. You, too. You can’t stay cooped up in the kitchen for four days.”

The housekeeper waggled her finger. “With all you’ve got goin’ on, Jared dear, everybody’s got to be properly fed.” Nevertheless, the two women followed him out the door.

Once there, Jared took a deep, relieved breath.

Hot though it might be in the sun, he’d been claustrophobic in the house. Crystal blue-green water dotted with white-caps brushed the pristine sandy shore. Clumps of sea grass bracketed the wooden dock jutting toward the ocean. Boating traffic was fairly light today, though by Saturday afternoon the waterways would be teaming with crafts of every shape and size.

When a man had this kind of view, why waste time looking at anything else?

Not to mention that kind of view.

He watched Victoria’s backside sway as she strolled onto the dock. Though her hand was tucked around Richard’s arm, Jared was confident he’d feel her touch soon enough.

Even out of his element, he had a fair amount of charm. And he couldn’t wait to use it to break through the reserved shell around Victoria Holmes.

Whistling, he joined the others on the dock. “Is this everybody?”

“Except Mother,” Richard said.

“And her gentleman friend, Sal,” Ruthie added. “He’s arriving around dinnertime.”

Rose had a boyfriend? Good for her. Plus, romance on as many fronts as possible could only help his cause with Victoria.

Especially since, at the moment, she seemed determined to monopolize Richard, for reasons that had nothing to do with passion.

Still, a little moonlight, a good meal, a stroll on the beach … Maybe Jared could get Victoria to set business aside for a while.

“How many of you have ever scuba dived?” he asked the assembled group.

Only Peter’s and Victoria’s hands went up.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” her colleague said smugly. “I’m an expert diver.”

Victoria pressed her lips together as if resisting the urge to contradict him. “I went on a couple of dives in college, if that counts.”

“It does,” Jared assured her. “It’ll come back to you. For everyone else who’s interested, I can teach you the basics in the pool in an hour or so. If you’re comfortable, we can go on a short dive. If not, there’s plenty of snorkeling equipment to use.”

As Jared explained all the activities available, the importance of not doing anything alone, and the tentative schedule he’d worked out, he discovered Peter was apparently an expert at everything. And yet Jared would bet his best saddle the guy didn’t know how to swim competently, much less that he’d dived at the Great Barrier Reef.

“Anybody want to hop on a Jet Ski?” he asked to stall Peter’s next overblown story.

As he’d expected, nearly everyone refused. He’d discovered city people had to gradually warm up to fun. This crowd would probably walk down the steps of the pool rather than simply dive in.

Calla, his only volunteer, ran up to the house to get her suit on, but the others wanted to unpack and get ready for dinner. Shelby and Mrs. K had to start making the meal.

“Steak?” Jared asked hopefully as he descended the ladder toward the Jet Ski floating there.

“Thai food,” Shelby called down. “Fish cakes, grilled pork satay, cucumber salad, baked shrimp with noodles, and chicken curry.”

Mrs. K clasped her hands. “Doesn’t it sound exotic? Shelby’s going to show me how to make everything.”

Climbing on the watercraft, Jared saluted. “Based on the cookies, I have full faith in both of you. But is there steak in my future?”

“Monday,” they said as one.

“For future reference,” Shelby added with a wink, “Victoria loves Thai food.”

Jared had no doubt she did. Exotic and spicy fit her perfectly.

He started the engine, then glanced up to spot Richard walking toward the house with Peter on one side and Victoria on the other.

Why the image bothered him so much, Jared wasn’t sure.

Instead, he focused on his job. He helped Calla onto the Jet Ski, and she held on for dear life as he streaked through the waves, jumped the crests and turned his face to the sun and salty spray.

The vision of Victoria’s stunning face wouldn’t go away, however. He compared the blue of the sea to her eyes. He remembered the startling black sand of Waianapanapa Beach in Maui, and how her hair would blend into it like an ancient exotic goddess merging with the land. He wondered how she’d fare on the open waters, unconstrained by obligations and ambition.

Calla had no such restraints and soon was ready to take the controls of the craft herself. Jared stood on the shore, watching to be sure she didn’t run into trouble, and wondering why the buxom blonde didn’t move him the way her friend did.

In all his travels, he’d learned some bits of truth. Don’t grab live stone crabs without gloves or a high pain threshold. Don’t hang glide with anybody after three cocktails. Don’t trust an African tribal guide who says crocodiles are “babies at heart.”

To that knowledge he’d add that chemistry wasn’t always a definable concept.

Calla was delightful. But Victoria was trapped in her orderly, fluorescent-light world, and he desperately wanted to release her.

“Any chance of getting Victoria on a Jet Ski?” he asked her friend after he tied off the machine and they’d climbed back onto the dock.

Calla’s gaze met his before quickly skittering away. “I don’t see how.”

“She’s here on business, not fun.”

“As always.”

“What kind of men does she date?”

Calla’s steps faltered, as if she hadn’t expected him to be so direct, but she recovered quickly. “Jerks,” she muttered with a shrug.

“Jerks?” he repeated, as if that was music to his ears.

“Rich jerks.” She waved her hand. “Oh, they all have great hair and pretty faces, successful careers, 401Ks and portfolios. But they’re superficial and—” She clamped her hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I just said that.” She broke into a brisk stride.

He caught up to her, bringing her to a stop. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I shouldn’t have answered.”

“We had a … moment earlier.” He wasn’t sure that was the way to describe the intensity of the spark that had ignited the instant Victoria had touched him, but that was all he had. “I was only wondering if she’d be interested in somebody like me.”

Calla grinned. “You like her.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Calla’s gaze trailed over him. “Great hair and pretty face, check.”

When she paused, he finished her thought. “But a 401K and portfolio, not so much.”

“You don’t have either, I guess?”

He did. But why should that matter? Why did it always matter? “Do I need them?”

Calla frowned, and he knew she was thinking of a way to let him down gently, to tell him that Victoria was particular and, being a successful woman herself, only hung out with guys who moved in her same circle.

He could move in those circles. He simply chose not to.

Too much artifice. Too many hangers-on. Too many people who clung because he had the means to buy a round for the house.

Been there. College in L.A. had schooled him in more ways than business management.

“She needs a regular guy,” Calla announced to Jared’s surprise. “Clearly, her pattern of brief relationships with shallow men isn’t working out. And if she ever stops focusing on her career twenty-four hours a day, she’ll see that.”

“Would she really? I’m a regular guy,” Jared said confidently, since he was—sort of.

Calla widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Are you? What an amazing coincidence.” She winked. “You two could make a great couple.” She jogged toward the house, calling her thanks as she left him.

Smiling, Jared turned for the shore. He hadn’t expected details from Victoria’s friend, especially since he’d had no right to ask about her love life in the first place.

Rich jerks who don’t hang around long, huh?

Good thing he usually concealed his ownership of the company. His clients thought he simply worked for the firm, same went for the host and guests this weekend.

One regular guy at your service, Ms. Holmes.

TWO HOURS LATER, DRESSED FOR dinner, but still missing her usual confidence, Victoria strode into the kitchen. “I need a martini, stat.”

While Shelby continued to chop vegetables, Calla jumped off the counter where she’d been sitting and headed to the fridge. From the freezer side, she pulled out a filled and frosted glass. Two extra-large olives speared on a toothpick floated inside the liquid.

Calla handed over the drink. “We figured you’d come asking for this.”

Victoria took a grateful sip, the harsh bite of the olives and liquor suiting her sour mood perfectly. “Where’s Mrs. Keegan?”

“In the wine cellar,” Shelby said. “So vent away.”

“What the hell does Richard think he’s doing?” Victoria asked her friends.

“Haven’t got a clue,” Calla answered, returning to her perch on the counter.

Shelby dumped chopped celery into a mixing bowl. “It’s got to be some kind of ego thing. Like having two dates to the prom.”

“Why would you want to have two dates to the prom?” Calla asked.

“I wouldn’t.” Shelby shrugged. “But some people would.”

“This is business,” Victoria reminded them. “Not social hour. And highly unprofessional.”

Calla shook her head. “Shelby’s got a point. There’s nothing technically wrong with it, apart from being underhanded and sneaky. But that’s business as usual for you.”

“He invites me and my friends for a relaxing weekend, tells me about his supposedly top secret new safe, then asks my competition to tag along and work directly against me for his contract. How do you figure that’s business as usual?”

“It’s like an on-the-job interview,” Calla said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Obviously, Coleman’s retirement isn’t the big secret you thought it was, and Richard wants to pick the best person to replace him for the ad campaign.”

Victoria contemplated the remaining contents of her glass and wondered if downing it in one swallow would make her look as desperate as she felt. “Thanks for your support, best friend.”

Calla sighed. “You have my support, as always.”

“Come on, hon,” Shelby added. “A competition between you and Peter hardly seems fair. Maybe you should spot him ten points or something.”

“Let’s not go that far,” Calla said. “Didn’t you hear him bragging earlier? The sooner he gets knocked out in this bout, the happier we’ll all be. And you …” She waggled her finger at Victoria. “We’re not happy about what Richard did, but you have to admit it makes sense. Frankly, it seems like something you’d do.”

Victoria’s jaw dropped. “Take that back.”

“Since when did you get so thin-skinned?” Calla asked.

“Since my mother called me and wanted to know why I hadn’t been promoted yet. And did I realize she’d been the youngest senior VP in the history of the company, and did I know I hadn’t met that goal, and did I want her to call Coleman Sr. and put in a good word.”

Silence fell.

Calla’s face went red, and Shelby paused her dinner prep. “When did this happen?” Shelby asked gently.

“A few days ago.” Victoria was already regretting her outburst. She wanted to earn her promotions. Wanted to be a success without her mother’s help. “Same old, same old. I don’t know why I let her get to me.” Victoria waved her hand in dismissal. She would never live up to The Legend. But, damn, she wanted to make a respectable race out of it. “How was the Jet Ski?”

Calla smiled widely. “That is one hot cowboy.”

The spurt of jealousy that shot through Victoria caught her off guard. “I thought you were crazy about Detective Antonio.”

“I am sometimes,” Calla said, “but he’s mad at me right now.”

“Why?” As far as Victoria had been able to tell, the attraction went both ways.

Calla rolled her eyes. “Who knows? He’s as ornery as a wet cat.” Looking smug, she added, “Anyway, Jared’s interested in somebody besides me.”

Victoria sipped her drink and said nothing.

“I’m with Calla on this one,” Shelby stated. “There’s no way you haven’t noticed, V.”

“Does anybody else think it’s ironic for Richard to be trolling for PR executives for a safe campaign, while at the same time hiring Mr. Adventure to keep us running around like deranged daredevils?”

Clearly not deterred by Victoria’s attempt to change the subject, Calla slid off the counter and moved toward her. “Come on. Don’t you think he’s cute?”

“No,” Victoria returned, completely honest. Cute was nowhere in the same hemisphere with Jared McKenna.

Strong, capable and smokin’ hot? Absolutely.

Finishing her martini, she set the glass on the counter. “I’m leaving now. Thanks for the drink.”

“You like him,” Calla insisted, blocking her exit.

Victoria scooted around her friend. “What is this—middle school?”

“We were all silly girls once,” Calla called after her.

Though she paused in the doorway, Victoria didn’t turn back. “I wasn’t.”

Rolling her shoulders, she moved down the hall to the stairs. The house boasted a variety of decks and sunrooms, and Victoria was intent on reaching the one outside the third-floor game room.

She really wished she could give in to her friends’ light mood, and before Peter had shown up and spoiled her weekend—along with the near certainty of her promotion—she might have. Now, however, the stakes had been raised, she was knocked off balance and she had to get her stance back in a hurry, or she’d be the one lying on the mat.

As she stepped through the French doors and onto the balcony, she was glad she’d changed into a sleeveless blue dress. The summer heat showed no sign of abating.

But the crashing waves against the shore helped her state of mind and reminded her of her own strength. Even with the complication of her rival, she’d find a way to win Richard’s business. Failure wasn’t an option.

“I’m not sure I could ever get used to that view.”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, she whirled.

Jared was stretched out on a lounge chair, a beer bottle in his hand. As he rose, the long, strong length of him towering over her, she took a second to calm her runaway pulse, as well as notice he’d changed clothes. A perfectly pressed white dress shirt covered his broad chest, and the tips of scuffed brown boots peeked from beneath his dark jeans.

“I didn’t realize anybody was up here,” she said, resisting the urge to lick her lips as a breeze ruffled his dark hair and warmth rose in his brown eyes. Why did he have to be so damn appealing?

“Since you didn’t immediately scowl at me, I kinda figured that.”

“I don’t scowl at you every minute.”

“Most minutes.” Setting his beer aside, he joined her at the railing, resting his forearms against the wood. “Calla and I missed you on the Jet Skis earlier.”

“I had my hair and nails done this morning. I didn’t realize Richard was planning Water Weekend Adventures from Hell. Do you have any idea what a blowout at a top Manhattan salon costs?”

“Nope.”

“And you don’t care.”

“Nope. But I bet your hair and nails are always perfect.”

“They are. Is there something wrong with a professional appearance?”

“Not when you’re being professional, I guess. But I think—and maybe this is just me—you’d look great messed up.”

“Messed up?”

“Maybe mussed up.” He leaned close. “You know, tousled, disheveled …” He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger. “Thoroughly pleasured.”

Heat raced through her body. “Are you always this forward with women you’ve just met?”

He grinned. “Not always.”

Despite her earlier anxiety, she found herself smiling back. “Most of the time, I bet you are.”

She wished she could find a reason to step away from him and not give in to his touch.

How about your potential contract? Your job? Your promotion? Simple common sense?

For once she ignored the warning from her conscience. “Did my mother really warm up to you?”

“Nope.”

“So why did you say she did?”

“I was flirting with you.”

Victoria laid her palm on his chest. “You aren’t my type.”

“You’re not mine, either.”

But he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her anyway.