The Devil She Knew(6)

Suzie pressed her lips together to keep from screaming. "It wasn't like  that," she said, her voice tight. "I can't stand Nate Mason. As far as  I'm concerned, he can drop dead."

"Oh-kay," said Laura. "Well, do you think there's a way to fix your  dress? I'm about to do the bouquet toss, and I want you to catch it. I  know it's a stupid tradition, but you never know, right?"

Her baby sister was obviously convinced that Suzie needed all the help  she could get. And wasn't that just the poop-flavored icing on top of a  perfectly screwed up day?

"Laura, listen to me." Suzie put her hands on her sister's arms to make  sure she had her full attention. "You've married a great guy and I  couldn't be happier for you. But that's not me, okay? I don't need you  to set me up with anyone or try to marry me off. I'm going back to my  room to change, then I'll be back at your wedding with a big smile,  ready to help you celebrate and do whatever you want. But honestly? Men  suck. So please do me this one favor and throw the bouquet to anyone but  me."





5





Even after giving himself the relief he so desperately needed, Nate's  sleep was restless. Partly because he'd had too many beers. Mostly  because he kept remembering the way Suzie had felt in his arms, and that  made him hard. And being hard led to obsessive thoughts of last night.         

     



 

For years he'd dreamed of discovering whether her lips were anywhere  near as soft as they looked, and whether she'd taste of cinnamon rolls,  which was what her smell had always reminded him of. Now he knew, and  the reality had been even better than his dreams. Whenever he closed his  eyes he could smell her warm, irresistible scent. He felt again the way  her lips had parted for him, the way her tongue had met and danced with  his. And he could feel her hard nipples, pushing upwards and demanding  attention from his fingers.

Just before dawn, he gave up on sleep and got out of bed to take care of his software instead of his cock.

Dalton, the resort owner, had agreed to bring the yacht into the wharf  and meet him there at nine. Nate couldn't start work on integrating his  system until he was on board and could see exactly how the yacht's  existing navigation system worked, but there were plenty of tweaks he  could make to it in the meantime.

By Wednesday, he wanted to have the software taking into account the  movement of the water, the underlying current, and the force of the  waves. While other auto-drive systems could only navigate threats they'd  been programmed to recognize, Nate's software was designed to learn. A  nautical environment was totally different from a road, so it would need  thorough testing. But he should be able to get it to steer safely  around surface objects fairly quickly.

Nate made himself a coffee and sat on the veranda of his bure with his  laptop. From there he could see over the water, a view that the dawn  light made even more spectacular. He admired it for a few minutes before  jotting down some notes on his software modifications. Then, as  promised, he called Tristan back.

His business partner answered on the first ring. "I still want to sell," said Tristan. "It's too good a price not to."

"You'll change your mind. On Wednesday, I'll live-stream the yacht  sailing with our system integrated, navigating obstacles. Then we'll  talk."

His business partner blew out a loud breath. "The car manufacturer is  waiting to hear back from us. What about if we sold them some kind of  licensing deal? I'm not sure they'll go for it, but if we push hard,  maybe-?"

"Once we hand over control, they'll get to dictate how the system works  in their cars. Remember that terrible interface that ruined our  Journeyman software?"

"It won't matter what they do to it, because the end product won't be ours."

"But I want to own the first car prototype to drive itself around a  track at high speed. A regular car manufacturer will make a boring, safe  car. We could make beautiful, sleek machines. Imagine us cracking open  the champagne as the first commercial models rev their engines and blow a  few eardrums."

"You can't seriously want to build our own cars? That would cost millions. There's no way we could-"

"Maybe we could, if I can get our software to plug into a yacht's  navigation system. Imagine if we could sell something basic that sailors  could use off the shelf. It shouldn't be that hard. We could have  something in stores within a year, and the sales could fund the rest of  the-"

"A year?" His partner's voice rose. "We don't have the money to last  that long. And I don't want to gamble away millions just because you  didn't like what happened with Journeyman." Tristan drew in his breath.  "Besides, selling products is a whole new set of skills. And reclusive  programmers don't make the best company directors."

Nate clenched his jaw. He wasn't a recluse, just cautious about getting  close to anyone, and for good reason. "Speak for yourself. This is  exactly the kind of challenge I've been waiting for."

"Is it because of all those glowing headlines you got? You need to prove they weren't wrong about you?"

Nate bit back a sharp retort. Agreeing to a whole lot of media  interviews after they'd sold Journeyman had been the best way to raise  the profile of their new company. His business partner knew damn well  he'd had to grit his teeth every time.

Maybe it was time for him and Tristan to part ways. Problem was, he  didn't have enough left in his bank account to buy his partner out. Not  if the price was half of fifty-five million dollars. Three long years  with no income and a team of programmers to pay had eaten up their  Journeyman profits.

"There's no point talking about it anymore." Nate's disappointment came  through in his words. "I'm still going ahead with the test on the yacht.  In the meantime, think about what you'll accept for your half of the  software, and I'll figure out a way to get it."         

     



 

"Wait." Tristan sounded startled. "We're a team, Nate. You're not really  thinking about doing this on your own? Listen, if the test goes well …   I'll …  well, let's talk about it some more when you know for sure. I  still think it's crazy to turn down that much money, but if you really  want to do it all ourselves, I'll consider it. I don't want to be the  fifth Beatle, or the guy who started Microsoft with Bill Gates, then  sold out of the company before it even got going."

"The test will work," Nate promised. And if it did, Tristan wouldn't be  able to say no. Although Nate didn't like to get close to anyone, he and  Tristan had worked together a long time. He'd be happier to stick with  their partnership than he wanted to admit.

After hanging up, Nate pulled on a pair of board shorts, threw a change  of clothes and a towel into a bag with his laptop, and rushed out. The  wharf wasn't far, but he didn't want to keep Dalton, the owner of the  resort, waiting.

He tracked across the beach, glancing toward the clump of trees that had  been the site of last night's mistake. Hopefully he wouldn't have to  see Suzie again. He'd be busy until Wednesday and with the wedding over,  she might not stick around too much longer.

Nate got to the wharf, shading his eyes as he started toward the yacht.  Without any breeze, the sea was flat and he was dazzled by the  sunlight's bright reflection. The yacht sat low in the water. Around 40  feet long, Nate calculated. A nice size.

Dalton was on deck, and Nate could hear the engine running. That was a  relief. As the yacht apparently hadn't been used for a while, Dalton  hadn't been sure whether it would start.

When Nate jumped on board, Dalton turned from where he'd been coiling a  rope and gave him a nod. Though the man had mentioned he didn't usually  live on Lantana Island, he looked like he belonged here. His tan was  deep, and he had visible nicks on his hands as though used to physical  labor. A scar cut through one of his eyebrows, completing his rugged  island look.

"Nice day to go out on the water," said Nate over the noise of the  engine. It had been far too long since he'd been on a boat. Though he  was here to work, the feel of the deck moving a little under his feet  brought back his only good memories of his time in Florida. His father's  yacht had been mainly for show, until Nate had arrived. It had become  Nate's escape, and the only place he had felt at home.

"You'll need to run the engine for several hours to charge the battery,"  Dalton explained. Don't switch it off in the meantime, or it might not  start up again."

"Sure, I can run it all day. There's no wind for sailing anyway." Nate  scanned the horizon. Not a cloud in the sky, and not much chance of any  breeze. Probably a good thing, so he wouldn't be distracted by the  temptation to put the sails up.

All he needed to get the software integration working was a few hours  under engine power. Once he had a baseline, he could do most of the  software modifications on dry land before Wednesday's final test.