The Man Must Marry(27)

she growled. "You can't turn hormones on and off like a water faucet!"

"Then let's keep them turned on for two more weeks."

"No! We can't sleep together once I reach home!"

He frowned at her obvious alarm. "Why not? Is there a local ordinance   that says two consenting adults can't share a bed?" He shook his head.   "You Mainers have some really weird notions about lovemaking, you know   that?" He gave her his infamous Sam Sinclair smile, which started her   hormones dancing again.

"We just have to be discreet, Willa."

"In Keelstone Cove?" She snorted and plopped down onto the bench beside   him. She never should have fished him out of the ocean in the first   place.                       
       
           



       

Sam immediately threw his arm around her, hauled her up against his   side, and kissed her hair. Willa cringed. She was going to smell like   sardines all day.

"Since Peg will be staying with you," he said, "you'll have to sneak   over to my cottage after she turns in for the night." He kissed her on   her cheek this time, his beard catching her hair. "I promise to kick you   out before daylight, so you can sneak back home."

Willa straightened away when she heard the amusement in his voice.   "Keelstone Cove has a population of twelve hundred and forty-six people,   and everyone knows everyone's business. And if they don't, they're  just  as liable to make up something."

She leaned forward and turned the wheel slightly to adjust their course,   then pivoted on the bench to face him. "Just last year, the  coffee-shop  club decided Mary-Jane Simpson had a thing for Rory  Peterson, even  though Mary-Jane had just marriedChad six months  earlier. Rumors of  their affair spread

all over town within a week."

"And Mary-Jane didn't have a thing for Rory?"

"He was old enough to be her father!"

"So the town gossips hurt her new marriage?"

"It turned out that a week after the rumors began, Mary-Jane and Rory   ran off together," she muttered. She grabbed the front of his jacket and   gave it a tug. "The coffee clubbers are notoriously good, Sam. They  can  sniff out a scandal before the participants themselves even know   they're involved."

"And my renting your cottage is scandalous?"

"For me-a single, eligible woman-to have an equally eligible man living   in my dooryard is going to start a tidal wave of rumors."

"So what?" He peeled her hand off his jacket and held it in his. "You're how old?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Okay. You're a twenty-nine-year-old, totally independent woman who has   the right to rent to anyone she chooses, as well as the right to sleep   with whoever she chooses. You can't stop the rumors, but you can rise   above them. So don't even try to be discreet. What can they possibly do   to you?"

She stood up, glaring at him. "Since my parents died, the entire town   has felt it's their duty to take over parenting me. I have endured   everyone in town trying to marry me off for the last five years . I   swear, they didn't even wait until the ink was dry on my divorce. I   can't tell you the men they've thrown at me-even tourists! Some poor   unsuspecting guy will walk into the coffee shop, and if he's not wearing   a ring, he's fair game. Before he knows it, they're persuading him  that  Keelstone Cove is a great place to live-especially if he were to  fall  in love with a wonderful woman who just happens to own a thriving   business. Then they drag the poor schmuck out to Kent Caskets, because   every perverse tourist wants to see a casket factory, and then they   suggest wouldn't it be nice if the two of us had dinner together."

Sam was laughing so hard he was holding his belly. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not! Sam, if you spend even one night in Keelstone Cove, you're   going to find yourself facing down the marriage posse. And I'm only  one  of five eligible women in town they might decide you're perfect  for."  She scrunched up her nose. "Although I am considered the spinster  in the  group, so they're trying to get me married off first. Only they  keep  telling me to sell my business, because no one wants to be  married to a  casket maker!" she finished loudly, since Sam was laughing  so hard he  actually fell off the bench.

"It's not one stinking bit funny, Sinclair! How would you like to have a bunch of busybodies butting into your love life?"

He leaned against the bench and grinned up at her. "I already have,   Willa. Bram could have given lessons to your marriage posse." His eyes   suddenly widened. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he had been leading   your posse for the last six weeks. Your coffee clubbers probably helped   him draft that bequest."

Willa was so horrified by that possibility that her knees buckled, and   she landed on the deck beside Sam. "Come to think of it, Abram never   showed up at Kent Caskets until after ten every morning," she said,   staring off at the horizon. "And he did smell of coffee and bacon. He   must have been going to the diner before he came to my factory." She   turned to Sam. "What are we going to do? If we show up in Keelstone Cove   together, they're going to make my life hell. I probably can't even go   home now! If anyone knows about Abram's will, I'm toast."                       
       
           



       

He pulled her against his side again and leaned back against the bench. "We could get married. That would shut them up."

She shuddered.

He chuckled and gave her a squeeze. "Then stand up to the bastards,   Willa. Sail straight into Keelstone Cove as if you own the damn   town-which you probably could if you wanted, considering your new net   worth." He used his finger to lift her chin to look at him. "Nobody can   make you do anything you don't want to, Willa. Not your neighbors, not   Bram, and not me."

She eyed him suspiciously. "So you'll stop bugging me to marry you and help me break Abram's will?"

"I only said I can't make you marry me. I didn't say I wouldn't keep asking."

"But why?" she cried, pulling away. "Why would you even consider marrying me?"

"Because I love you."

She gaped at him for several seconds, then scrambled to her feet. "You   can't fall in love with someone in only a week! You're just saying that   because you don't want Warren Cobb to get those shares."

He stood up and faced her, his feet planted against the sway of the   deck, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "There isn't a damn   thing I can do or say that will make you believe I couldn't care less   what happens to Tidewater International. But I swear, Willa, my heart   hasn't been in that business for years."

"Then why were you so hot to be the new CEO?"

"I told you, and so did Ben and Jesse, that we all wanted it because   Bram was still alive. But Ben is the only one who has any genuine   interest in Tidewater. So even if you and I do get married and you turn   your shares over to me, I will use them to vote Ben in as CEO."

"Then why didn't Ben offer to marry me?"

"Because he doesn't love you."

Willa drew in a shaky breath. This was getting them exactly nowhere. She   turned her back to him and silently walked to the bow of the boat.   Nobody fell in love in eight days, and nobody as handsome and rich and   self-assured as Sam Sinclair was going to fall in love with her. Which   was perfectly fine, because she sure as heck wasn't ever falling in love   with anyone ever again. It was bad enough that she loved Shelby and   Jennifer and Cody with all her heart. Not for the first time since the   accident, Willa was tempted to sail into the sunset and find a deserted

island. She could drop Sam off on the town dock, go home to pack some   clothes and supplies, and point the RoseWind toward the southern   horizon. Shelby and Jennifer and Cody would miss her at first, but   they'd eventually get over it. And Sam could clean up the mess Abram had   made and eventually find someone he could really love and get on with   his own life. She stared out at the ocean and sighed, wondering why  that  was such a depressing thought.

Since he'd grown accustomed to going to bed and making love to Willa for   half the night, Sam was unable to sleep despite being utterly   exhausted. He was back up in the front bunk, alone, and thoroughly at   odds with himself.