Tidewater Seduction

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‘Something wrong?’ Cole’s blue eyes were smugly intent, and Joanna expelled her breath on a rueful sigh.

‘No,’ she said, deliberately wistful. ‘I was just remembering how good you were in bed.’

‘Good God!’ Cole’s jaw hardened. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’ He swallowed the remainder of his drink in one violent gulp, and gestured for the waiter to bring him another. ‘What do you want from me, Jo? Blood?’

Joanna knew a fleeting sense of conscience, but then the waiter arrived to replace Cole’s glass, and she consoled herself by taking another mouthful of her own drink. But her lips around the pink straw were unconsciously provocative, and Cole uttered an imprecation as he lifted his bourbon to his mouth.

‘You folks dinin’?’ enquired the waiter, and at Cole’s curt nod he flourished two enormous menus from under his arm. ‘Take your time,’ he added, his knowing gaze taking in the situation at a glance. ‘I’ll be back later to take your order.’

Propping her menu on the table in front of her, Joanna continued to enjoy her drink as she studied its contents. There was a vast array of dishes to choose from, with imported American steaks and locally caught seafood providing the main selections. There was fried chicken, too, prepared with the familiar ‘peas ‘n’ rice’, which was a national passion.

‘What do you want?’ asked Cole, after a few minutes, his tone cool and unfriendly, and Joanna felt a trace of regret.

‘The grouper, I think,’ she answered, mentioning the name of the most popular fish in the area. ‘And melon, to begin with. I’m not very hungry.’

Cole acknowledged her choice with a brief inclination of his head, and the waiter, who had evidently been keeping an interested eye on their table, came to take their order.

Cole ordered the grouper, too, but with a salad starter. ‘And bring the lady another of those,’ he said, as Joanna set down her empty glass. ‘And I’ll have another bourbon.’

Joanna arched her brows, half in protest, but the waiter was already sauntering away between the tables. Besides, the drink had been delicious, she conceded. And fairly innocuous, too, judging by the clearness of her head.

There was silence between them for a while. Joanna could have broken it with some other audacious comment, but she realised she was in danger of alienating Cole completely, and that hadn’t been her intention at all.

So, instead of sniping at him, she pretended an interest in their fellow guests, thanking the waiter for her drink when it came, without any further attempt to provoke her companion.

And, as she had half expected, Cole was eventually forced to say something. She guessed he was not unaware that their lack of communication had been noticed by the people at the next table, and as he had been the one to cause their isolation he chose to be the one to end it.

‘Do you see much of Grace?’ he asked, in a voice that would have cracked ice, and Joanna turned her gaze from a bowl of exotic plants to look at him.

‘That depends,’ she said, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue.

‘On what?’

The question was wrung from him, and Joanna smiled. ‘On whether I’m working or not,’ she declared smoothly. ‘Grace is my agent. She’s only interested in when I’m going to finish my next painting.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’ Cole’s tone had lost some of its chilliness. ‘Grace always liked you. She considers you a friend.’

‘Mmm.’ Joanna stirred her drink with the straw. ‘Well, let’s say things have been a little strained between Grace and me, since we—broke up.’

Cole frowned. ‘I don’t believe it. Hell, I’d have thought you and she had a deal in common.’

‘Would you?’ Joanna looked at him through her lashes. ‘You should know Grace won’t have a word said against your father.’

Cole’s mouth thinned. ‘Unlike you, huh?’

‘I don’t have two sons whose livelihood is dependent on someone else’s goodwill,’ she countered lightly. ‘Your father can’t hurt me, Cole, and that must be a real source of aggravation to him.’

‘I doubt if he cares that much, one way or the other,’ retorted Cole bitterly. ‘But you always had to face him down, didn’t you? You’d never admit that sometimes he just might be right!’

‘Like when he accused Nathan of sleeping with your wife?’ she enquired tautly, and then, seeing the dark, tormented, expression her words had provoked, she quickly regressed. ‘Forget I said that. It doesn’t matter. He did us both a favour, didn’t he? Oh—here’s the waiter. Our table must be ready.’

CHAPTER FOUR (#u7cc4d8f3-76a5-5fd5-843a-61cace406010)

A FOUR-PIECE West Indian band was playing in the grill room, and Joanna was glad that the music negated any real obligation to talk while they were eating. Not that she ate a lot. The melon slid down smoothly enough, but the fish, which was served with a bouquet of vegetables, was rather more difficult to swallow. Instead, she turned to the wine Cole had ordered to accompany the meal, drinking several glasses of the chilled Californian Riesling.

There was a small dance-floor beyond the tables, where those guests who had finished their meal indulged in a little after-dinner exertion. Joanna spent most of her time watching them, uncaring for once if Cole was looking at her. With her elbow propped on the edge of the table and her chin cupped in one slender hand, she was unaware of the dreamy expression that crossed her face as she watched the swaying couples. For a while, she was completely oblivious of her surroundings, and it took a definite effort to concentrate again when the waiter came to ask if they wanted a dessert.

‘Just coffee,’ said Cole, without consulting her, and Joanna pulled an indignant face.

‘I might have liked a dessert,’ she pouted, and although she suspected he was only acting Cole’s face softened.

‘Coffee first, like back home,’ he insisted wryly. ‘I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.’

‘Would you do that?’ she asked huskily, a feeling of heat sweeping over her, and although it wasn’t all that easy to focus on his lean face she thought his eyes darkened at her words.

‘If I have to,’ he answered. ‘Why? How do you feel?’

‘Muzzy,’ she admitted, emitting a rueful little laugh. ‘Maybe I do need that coffee, after all.’

‘You always were a cheap drunk,’ he said, but for once there was no malice in his tone, and Joanna knew an overwhelming urge to make him as aware of her as she was of him.

Concentrating hard, she stretched out her hand and ran her fingers over his thigh. He jerked back automatically, but not before she had felt the instinctive tautening of muscle under her touch. From his groin to his knee, his leg stiffened defensively, and his lazy humour disappeared beneath a scowl of irritation.

But when he would have pushed her hand away, she thwarted him with an appealing smile. ‘Dance with me,’ she invited, turning her hand into his, and letting her thumb drift against his palm. ‘Please, Cole. To show you’re not mad at me. For old times’ sake, as you said.’

He wanted to refuse. The evidence of that was clear in his face. And he resented her for using his words against him. But something—the memory of why he had come here, perhaps, or a desire to prove he was in control of his own destiny, who knew?—made him hesitate long enough for her to draw him to his feet.

‘I don’t dance,’ he said, then, his voice clipped and harsh, ‘I think we should get out of here. You need some fresh air.’

‘Do I?’

Joanna swayed, most convincingly, which wasn’t too surprising considering the wine had made her feel decidedly unsteady on her feet. But she could handle it, she told herself, not prepared to lose the advantage now.

‘Yes, you do,’ he muttered, as she continued to cling to his fingers. ‘Jo, what do you think you’re doing? This isn’t the way to the exit.’

‘I’ll leave after we’ve danced,’ declared Joanna firmly, tugging him after her. ‘We used to dance before. Don’t you remember?’

‘That wasn’t dancing,’ snapped Cole, but Joanna’s behaviour was attracting attention, and she could see he didn’t like it.

‘Whatever,’ she murmured, reaching the square of polished tiles, and turning into his arms. ‘Don’t be a spoil-sport, darling. Don’t you want to dance with me?’

Cole scowled, but there was no turning back. Besides, the face she turned up to his was innocent of all deceit, the amber eyes pleading with him to give in.

And he did. With a grim tightening of his lips, he gripped her waist, and held her away from him. Then, fixing his gaze on some distant point above her head, he began to move rather awkwardly in time to the music.

Joanna caught her lower lip between her teeth, as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Oh, lord, she gulped, trying to contain her mirth, she had forgotten what a hopeless dancer Cole was. He had never mastered any step, beyond the square dances he had learned in school, and only her guidance had made him half decent on a dance-floor.

But not like this, she conceded drily, with at least six inches between them. She didn’t want to remember the other occasions when they had danced together, but she couldn’t help it. Then, the steps they used hadn’t been important. They had moved to the rhythm of their bodies—just like when they were making love …

She shivered, and the feathering of her flesh reminded her of where she was, and what she was doing. The dance-floor was getting crowded, and when a careless elbow nudged her in the ribs her determination hardened. She could have withstood the painful jab quite easily, but she chose not to. With a startled cry, she launched herself against him, successfully dislodging his hands, and clutching his lapels.

‘God!’

Cole’s reaction was just as violent as she had anticipated, but when he would have drawn back again her hands slid up to his neck.

‘Sorry,’ she breathed, her breath wafting sweetly across his cheek, and a nerve jerked spasmodically at his jawline.

‘What in hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded, his hands reaching up to grab her forearms, with the obvious intention of hauling them down from his shoulders. ‘Damn you, keep still!’

‘I’m just dancing,’ she protested innocently, rotating her hips against his. ‘Don’t be so touchy! You need all the help you can get.’

‘I did warn you,’ he grated, and with a little sigh Joanna allowed him to pull her arms down to her sides.

But she didn’t move away from him. And, although Cole would clearly have preferred to leave the dance-floor, they were trapped within the circle of the other dancers.

‘Is this so bad?’ she asked, looking up at him with wide tawny eyes, and she saw the glittering awareness enter his. He might not want to admit it, but his reasons for keeping her at a distance were not because he didn’t like dancing with her. And when his gaze dropped to the appealing curve of her soft mouth Joanna felt her own senses sharpen.

‘We’re leaving,’ said Cole abruptly, taking her upper arm between his forefinger and thumb, and pushing her determinedly through the swaying press of people. His nails bit into her flesh as he steered her back to their table. ‘Get your bag. I’ll pay the bill.’

‘But what about our coffee?’ she argued, looking longingly at the breakfast-size cups of the aromatic brew waiting on the table, but Cole was unrepentant.

‘You can get some coffee back at the hotel,’ he stated bleakly, and summoned the startled waiter who had served them.

Outside, Joanna did feel slightly unsteady in the night air. But Cole’s expression forbade any attempt to use his arm for support, and when the taxi came she collapsed gratefully into the back.

Cole gave the driver his instructions, and then joined her on the back seat. But his mouth was scornful in the half-light. ‘You really are smashed, aren’t you?’ he declared, shaking his head. ‘My God! And I thought we might have a serious conversation.’

Joanna turned her head towards him, her dark hair falling sensuously over one shoulder. ‘What about?’ she asked silkily, sweeping it back again. ‘The fact that you still want me?’

Cole swore, and turned his head away. ‘You wish,’ he snarled, clenching his fists. ‘God, why did I ever agree to this pointless exercise?’

‘Because Daddy asked you to,’ retorted Joanna shortly. ‘And you always do everything Daddy says, don’t you? You’re Daddy’s blue-eyed boy. Even if it means sacrificing other people in the process!’

Cole’s jaw clamped. ‘Shut up!’

‘Why?’ Joanna felt fairly safe in baiting him, with the comfortingly broad shoulders of the Bahamian taxi driver firmly in view. ‘You don’t like to hear the truth, Cole. In fact, you don’t hear anything but what Daddy says. I’m surprised you ever learned how to have sex with a woman! Or was Daddy in on that, too——?’

Cole moved then, covering the space between them in one swift lunge. His hand closed about her throat, cutting off her words with unexpected violence, and his eyes glittered dangerously in the twilight world of the cab.

‘Shut up,’ he commanded again. ‘Shut the hell up!’ And then, as her eyes fought with his, and terror gripped her stomach, he uttered a muffled oath and brought his mouth down on hers.

As kisses went, it wasn’t pleasant. With Cole’s hand practically cutting off the air to her windpipe, Joanna could hardly have been expected to enjoy it. On top of that, despite the lightness of his hair, and the fact that he had probably shaved before coming out, Cole’s chin was abrasively male. And as his mouth ground against her teeth, all Joanna could think of was how abused she was going to look when he let go of her.

But something happened when he kissed her. Although his original intention had been to hurt and humiliate her, that melding of their mouths seduced his reason. A groan of anguish rumbled in his throat, and he tore his mouth from hers, only to return again with an urgent imprecation.

And when he did so, his fingers relaxed, releasing her throat from his throttling grasp. Instead of bruising her flesh, they became achingly gentle, smoothing the tortured skin with a sensuous caress.

Now, Joanna felt as if her breathing had been suspended. Her chest rose and fell with the tumult of her emotions, but she didn’t seem to be getting any oxygen into her lungs. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the car, and her senses swam dizzily beneath his searching touch.

Cole’s kiss became hungry, and fiercely demanding. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, and she let it have its way. That hot, wet invader was disturbingly familiar, and her tongue twined around it, helpless to resist. There was nothing gentle about him now, but his demands inspired a matching need. Her legs splayed, her head dipped low against the squabs, and when his hand slid inside the neckline of her dress and touched her breasts she felt her arousal, clear down to her thighs.

The cab, braking outside the brilliantly lit foyer of the Coral Bay Hotel, brought Cole, belatedly, to his senses. With a groan of anguish he pushed himself up and away from her, but not before the smirking taxi driver had glimpsed what had been going on.

Joanna struggled up with rather less energy. She was still bemused by the upheaval of her senses, and it was difficult to think coherently, when her body was dewy with perspiration. Her hair was mussed about her shoulders, and even in the semi-gloom of the cab she guessed her swollen lips had not gone unremarked. And even Cole made a point of buttoning his jacket as he got out of the car.

She knew why, thought Joanna tensely, stumbling out after him. Standing on the floodlit forecourt, she wet her bruised lips with a soothing tongue. Cole had been as aroused as she was. She had felt the heavy heat of his manhood against her stomach, its throbbing tumescence straining at the zip of his trousers. Known, too, that Cole’s self-control had been slipping. He had wanted her; she knew it. And if they hadn’t been interrupted …

‘Let’s get inside.’

Cole’s hand at her elbow, and his harsh impersonal tone brought her swiftly back to earth. With a gesture that was barely civil, he escorted her inside the hotel. Then, after accompanying her to the bank of elevators, he inclined his head and released her.

But, when he would have walked away, Joanna caught his arm. ‘Where are you going?’