The Devil She Knew(10)

Last night's kiss didn't change her cast-iron rule: no geeks, no  brainiacs, no smart-ass nerds. And she'd especially never want to be  with a man who could write software, pilot a yacht, fix an engine, and  look like a Bachelor of the Year centerfold while he was at it. If Nate  was this good at everything he did, where did that leave her?

"Excuse me," she said, her voice stiff. "I want to get past."

Instead of going to the bottom of the steps to let her through, he moved  to one side so she had no choice but to squeeze by. Her arm rubbed  against his and their hips brushed. Damn the yacht's tight spaces. How  annoying was it that even the most casual contact with him sent shivers  over her skin?

She went into the master cabin and used the tiny ensuite bathroom to  shower and change. Then she called the airline. After a long wait, they  eventually changed her flight booking. There was only one direct flight a  day from Nadi to LA. She rebooked for Monday night, which meant she'd  get home Tuesday mid-morning. Later than she'd wanted, but enough time  to prepare for the wedding.

Finally, Suzie called the neighbor who was looking after her dog to let  her know she was going to be late home. By the time she hung up, her  phone was out of juice and beeping at her, so she attached the charger  and plugged it into the power socket next to the bed. She could call  Laura again in the morning.

She sniffed the air. Something smelled utterly delicious, and for a  change, it wasn't Nate's musky man sweat. Was he cooking sausages? The  scent was both meaty and spicy.

When she opened the door, the saloon was dark except for an  old-fashioned hurricane lantern flickering on the dining table, and  another in the galley. Surely Nate hadn't lit them to make their dinner  romantic? If he had, she'd set him straight right now.

"What's this?" she demanded.

He was stirring a pot on the stove and the aroma made her stomach growl.  At least he'd put a T-shirt and jeans on, so the hunger in her belly  didn't have cause to move any lower.

"If you've finished in the cabin, please turn the light off," he said without turning around.

"Why?"

"We need to save the battery. It was low when we started, and we weren't  under power for long enough to give it a decent charge. If it goes  flat, we'll be in real trouble."

Okay, she could deal with low, romantic light for one night. It wasn't  like she was going to spend the evening staring into Nate's soulful  brown eyes. And just because he'd cast some sort of evil spell over her  body didn't mean she was in any danger of acting on it again. No, she  had herself firmly under control.

She flicked the cabin light off, then tried to see over his shoulder. "What are you cooking?"

"Dinner was ready a while ago. I've been keeping it warm."         

     



 

It was only a mild rebuke, but she defended herself anyway. "I was on  hold all that time, waiting to speak to someone from the airline. The  next flight they could get me on leaves tomorrow night."

"If you'd used Journeyman you could've had it rebooked in a few minutes. I would have lent you my laptop."

She shook her head. "I'd rather spend an hour on the phone than use your software."

"Don't you think that's petty?"

In the dim light, his features were as perfect as a painting, as though  somebody had started with a dark square of charcoal and carefully picked  out the details of his strong chin and high cheekbones with an eraser.

"Not really. I lost a business I loved, and it was partly due to your  software." And when she was suddenly unemployed, it had sunk in how  limited her options were without a high school diploma. Not that she'd  ever tell Nate she hadn't graduated with the rest of her class. No doubt  he had as many letters after his name as Laura did.

"If I hadn't written Journeyman, someone else would have. You can't stop progress."

"And progress matters more than people's livelihoods?"

"You may as well be a candle maker and complain about Edison inventing the light bulb."

Jerk. He thought he was so clever. "Comparing yourself to Edison? Arrogant much?"

He flushed. Good. Her jibe had hit home.

"You found a new job anyway," he said.

"That's right. I have a catering company." The lie came out before she  could stop it, and she bit her lip. So it had taken her a long time to  pick herself up after the failure of her travel business. She should be  done feeling bad about that. Why did she care so much what he thought of  her? Besides, if she was only working part-time for Marianna and barely  making enough to survive, it was partly his fault.

"I'm catering a big wedding on Friday, and I need to prepare for it," she said.

His eyebrows lifted. "That's why you're in such a hurry to get home? A wedding that's five days away?"

"Since when do I have to explain myself to you, Milhouse?" He might  think a single catering job wasn't important enough to worry about, but  it was a big deal to her.

His jaw tightened. "Don't call me that. If you're going to act like a child, I'll punish you like one and put you over my knee."

"In your dreams." She squeezed her hands into fists, fighting against a  thrill at the mental image of him drawing her panties down and spanking  her bare ass. No, that thought would not turn her on.

He took another step forward until he was so close the air rushed out of  her lungs. His face was kissing distance away and she could almost  taste him. Her heart sped up and her blood was suddenly liquid heat,  searing through her veins. Every nerve ending was alive, and between her  legs she felt a familiar ache of need.

"Don't tempt me." His voice was harsh.

Her lips parted. She wanted to object, but her voice was lost deep  inside her and she wasn't sure if she could form a coherent word. Tempt  him? It was as though he had her body on remote control and could throw  her into absolute confusion at will.

"I don't-"

Then she felt his hand slide around her back and he pulled her against  him. His hard length jutted angrily into her belly. She felt suddenly  weak.

"You do." He let her go and she stumbled backward. Her backside hit the  edge of the table and she grabbed it. Her legs were so wobbly it was  either hold on or fall down. Sweet mother of mercy. Did that just  happen? Her mind was whirling, her heart thudding, and she couldn't drag  in a breath.

Air. She needed fresh air.

Spinning around, she rushed up the stairs to the cockpit, then onto the  deck. It was pitch black outside, but the slight breeze was refreshing.  Fresh air filled her lungs. Better.

Crossing to the rail, she stared into the darkness and cursed herself.  Running up here had been a mistake. By taking off like that, she'd only  showed him that he'd affected her. She should have pushed him away, told  him to keep his hands off her. Stood up for herself.

Why had she gotten so angry and called him that stupid nickname anyway?  She never lost her cool so quickly, but around him she felt out of  control and her anger flared in defense. If she was honest, it wasn't  about the lie he'd told, or past hurts, but the way her body kept  reacting to him. Was she a teenager, with hormones in overdrive? After  all the bad boys she'd survived, how crazy was it that a geek could  throw her into total confusion?

She took some deep breaths. The cool breeze felt good against her bare  arms and legs, but she was starting to feel silly for getting worked up  and rushing out. She was an adult, for heaven's sake, and they were  stuck with each other until tomorrow. They should be able to share a  meal without drama.         

     



 

A light touch on her arm made her jump. Nate spoke from behind her, but  his normal assertive tone had softened. "You okay, Suzie?"

She faced him slowly, her heart starting up again just as she'd got it  calmed down. A cloud covered the moon, and he was little more than a  dark shape in front of her. She forced herself to sound casual. "Yeah,  I'm fine. Just needed some air."

"Come inside. Have something to eat. We can start over." His tone was  gentle. In the darkness he could almost be a different man.

Good idea. If they could start again, she could keep her cool and not let herself get so rattled.

She nodded, not sure if he could see the movement in the dark. But he  turned and went back inside the yacht, and after a moment she followed.

When she went down the stairs, Nate was back at the stove. "To answer  your original question," he said, his tone as calm as though nothing had  happened. "I've made stew. It's mainly from cans, because that's all  there was, but I found some spices to give it more flavor." He pulled a  couple of bowls out of the cupboard and ladled in the food.

Suzie sat at the table and cleared her throat, determined to sound as casual as he did. "It smells good."

He turned with the bowls in each hand, his eyes wide and mouth open in a  shocked expression so exaggerated it made her smile in spite of  herself. "Was that really a compliment?"