The Millionaire's Marriage Demand(13)

"If you'd stayed away from Brent in the first place, you wouldn't be in this mess," Travis said furiously.

"And I wouldn't have met you. Which certainly would be a bonus."

"Your cheek-did he hit you?"

"I told you-he didn't as much as touch me!"

"Dammit, Julie, ever since I saw your dark glasses on the kayak in the  boathouse, I've been picturing you drowned, raped and murdered," Travis  said in a voice raw with emotion.

Too much emotion, he thought distantly. Far too much. But it was too late to take it back.

She let out her breath in a long sigh. "I'm hungry, thirsty and sore.  Not drowned, raped or murdered. So why are we standing here yelling at  each other?"

"Because I was worried sick about you."

"I get the message." She scowled at him. "I bet all the bacon and eggs will be gone by the time we get back."                       
       
           



       

"I'll have Bertram order you a breakfast all of your own. He owes you, after leaving the room keys hanging in the pantry."

Looking somewhat more cheerful, Julie said, "You'd do that for me?"

"I'd do a lot more than that for you," Travis said harshly; and listened to the words echo in his head.

"Bacon and eggs would be plenty, thank you."

"Are you warning me off?"

"I don't know!"

Travis took a step back. "Let's go."

"I've hurt you, haven't I?" she whispered. "I'm sorry, Travis, I-"

"Your imagination's working overtime."

"So you don't hurt, like ordinary people?" she lashed.

"I quit that a long time ago."

"I don't believe you!"

"That's your choice," he said curtly. "In the meantime, we can argue half the morning, or we can paddle back to Manatuck."

"Arguing with you is a lost cause," Julie snapped, and turned away, marching down the shore toward the kayak.

Travis stayed where he was. He hated how easily she could get to him. On  top of that, he wanted to kiss her so badly he could taste the  sweetness of her lips against his. He didn't want to think what he might  have done had Brent harmed her. He was a doctor, for God's sake. He was  supposed to heal, not hurt.

Raking his fingers through his hair, his footsteps crunching on the  barnacles, Travis followed Julie down to the kayak. Once there, he  passed her the water bottle and trail mix, watching the movements of her  throat as she swallowed. Added to the terror and rage he'd felt earlier  was another, disturbingly new emotion: a fierce instinct to protect her  from further harm.

Coupled with, of course, the ever-present gnawing of desire. Not that  yelling at her on a lonely beach was the way to entice her into his bed.  He had to come up with a better strategy than that.

Julie took a handful of nuts from the bag. "Nothing like a few raisins and almonds for making life worth living. Want some?"

Desire wasn't on her mind. For sure.

Travis chewed a few peanuts that might as well have been wood chips and  said abruptly, "We'd better get going. We'll follow the beach and the  reefs north, then cut across the channel above Manatuck."

Which is what they did. Julie was an adept and strong kayaker, their  paddles flashing in unison; Travis knew better than to see this as a  metaphor.

They docked in the boathouse, then Travis led the way through the trees  to a side door where they'd be unlikely to meet any of his father's  guests. The back stairs took them to the far end of the wing where their  bedrooms were located. Outside her door he said, "I'll wait for you  while you shower. Then I want to check that gash in your leg, you don't  want to risk infection."

"I can look after it."

"Julie, I'm a doctor," he said coldly. "This isn't a come-on."

She flushed. "You've got a practice in Portland?"

"Just for the summer. Filling in for Mark MacDonald."

"I'm a physiotherapist," she said rapidly. "So I know enough first aid to look after myself."

This was new information to Travis. Ever since he'd met Julie, he'd been  so off balance he'd never thought to ask the ordinary questions, like  her age or what she did to earn her living. "Do you work in the  hospital? Why haven't I seen you there?"

If she answered him, Julie thought, he'd know where to find her. With  huge reluctance she said, "I've got a temporary contract at Silversides,  the clinic just out of town." She knew as well as he that Silversides  was a retreat for the very rich; just as she knew Dr. MacDonald's  practice was almost exclusively white-collar. She could have told him  about her real work overseas; but why bother? After today, she wasn't  going to see him again.

"I'll get my bag," he said. "I always travel with it."

"You're like a nor'easter," she said irritably, "there's no stopping you."

"And you don't have to worry about Brent, he left on the launch. With a blonde."                       
       
           



       

"It isn't Brent I'm worrying about," Julie said unwisely and shut the door in Travis's face.

The hot water stung her various cuts and scrapes; she was going to have a  few choice bruises when she went back to work tomorrow. She pulled on  her sundress, brushed her hair and left the bathroom.

Travis was sitting on the bed, looking very much at home. He'd changed  into cotton trousers and a blue shirt . open at the neck, the sleeves  rolled up. Suppressing the urge to jump him, Julie said, "Make it fast,  I'm hungry." Recklessly she plunked herself down beside him on the bed,  hauling her skirt above her knees. She wasn't going to jump him. She  knew better than to do that.

So she was quite safe.





CHAPTER EIGHT





The scrape on Julie's knee was picturesque and hurt like crazy; but it  wasn't overly deep. Travis knelt in front of her, extracting a few  specks of bark with sterile tweezers, then smoothing on antibiotic  ointment and applying a light bandage. Julie watched him, fascinated by  the skill of his long fingers, so deft and gentle. He'd be a very good  doctor.

He'd be a very good lover.

Desire washed over her, so strongly that it was as much as she could do  to keep her hands at her sides. "Keep an eye on it," Travis said,  getting to his feet.

Her face must have been an open book. With a strangled sound in his  throat, Travis pushed her back on the bed, threw himself down beside her  and began kissing her, fiercely possessive kisses that sang along her  veins until the beat of her blood was like a primitive drum. She kissed  him back, running her hands through the thick silkiness of his hair,  stroking his nape, roaming his muscled shoulders. As he tugged at the  hem of his shirt, she went lower, desperate to feel skin and flesh. The  rough hair on his belly tangled her fingers; and then she found his  nipple, hard as a pebble.

His tongue twined with hers in an intimacy that served only to increase  her hunger. She opened to him, whimpering with need; and felt him slide  the straps from her shoulders, pulling her dress down to bare her  breasts. As he cupped them in his palms, she arched toward him, aching  for more, maddened by sensations that were building as inexorably as a  storm at sea.

His head dropped to her breast, his mouth taking one tip then the other,  laving them until she was moaning with pleasure. When he raised his  head to kiss her mouth again, she tore at the buttons on his shirt; then  she pulled him down to lie on her, the roughness of his body hair  abrading her breasts.

Her skirt was above her thighs. At the first touch of his fingers  between her legs, she gave a strangled cry. All the barriers were down;  as the hardness of his erection dug into her thigh, she knew she  couldn't rest until he was inside her. Where he belonged.

But even as she fumbled to remove the scrap of lace that was keeping him  from her, Travis reared up, his eyes fastened on her face. "Julie," he  said hoarsely, "in a moment I won't be able to stop. Is this what you  want?"

She looked at him blankly, trying to find her voice. "Of course it is," she gasped, "can't you tell?"

"A summer affair."

It was as though he were trying the words out, she thought, listening to  see how they sounded. Only last night she'd told him an affair was the  last thing she was looking for; and she'd meant it. But now, crazed by  passion, she was just about begging him to take her.

In a cracked voice she said, "I want you so much that I forgot all the  reasons we shouldn't be doing this." Pushing him off, she sat up; as she  dragged at her dress to hide her breasts, the words came tumbling from  her lips. "I thought I knew myself until you came along. I'm no virgin,  Travis-when I was twenty I went to bed with my physics partner, because I  figured it was time I found out what sex was all about. Nothing much,  that's what I discovered. No big deal. So I got on with my life. And  that was fine with me, I didn't want to fall in love back then and I  still don't. And I sure don't want to get married." She paused for  breath, her hands clasped in her lap. "I've dated since then, of course I  have. Nice men, attractive men, many of whom would have been happy to  have an affair with no strings attached. But I never did. Not one of  them swept me off my feet. Until you came along." She bit her lip. "I  don't understand why you're so different. When you kiss me, I forget  everything except you. You saw how I behaved a moment ago, I was like a  wild woman. That's not me! I've never been like that."