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He lifted an eyebrow. The day they had met she’d implied he was stuffy, now she seemed to think he lived an extravagant lifestyle. “What? You think I eat caviar and drink champagne all day?”
Beth munched on a Greek olive and shrugged. She wore a green sleeveless blouse and skirt that emphasized her slim waist. Her small breasts didn’t make much of an impression under the blouse, but he had an overwhelming interest in finding out how they would feel in his hands…which was exactly the wrong thing he ought to be thinking.
Odd, he’d dated some of the most beautiful women in the world, but he’d never had so much trouble keeping his thoughts respectable.
“If I’m not at a business lunch or dinner, I mostly grab a sandwich and let it go at that,” he said in a gruff tone.
“You’re kidding.”
He smiled ruefully. “Nope, that’s my glamorous life.”
“Hmmm.” Beth opened her tub of coleslaw and took a bite. She didn’t want to like Kane, but she did. Of course, he was far too controlling and overbearing to be the kind of man she’d normally be friends with, but they only had to rub elbows until the weekend was over, and then she’d have the money to give the crisis center.
That is…if he wrote the check again. She’d torn the first one into pieces for effect—just another example of her going too far and too fast.
As if reading her mind, Kane dusted his fingers and pulled his checkbook from his pocket. “I should write you another check,” he said.
“Uh…okay.”
He seemed secretly amused about something, which annoyed her all over again. It was one thing to decide she could put up with him for a weekend excursion, another to actually do it. He wrote out the check and she hastily put it in her purse. Even if the money was for a good cause, she was still being paid off.
“If it’s all right with you,” Kane said. “I’ve arranged for the limousine to take us to Port Angeles on Saturday morning, where we’ll take the ferry over to Victoria. We’ll do some sight-seeing, stay the night at the Empress Hotel and return home Sunday afternoon.”
She gave him a funny look. “Why not drive ourselves?”
“The contest rules said we’d go by limo. My brother thought it would sound more exciting to the contestants.”
“I don’t care about the rules. It’s too extravagant.”
“The station is footing the bill. Patrick insisted. He’s stubborn about things like that.”
“But—”
“Humor me.” Kane chomped down on his sandwich. He obviously didn’t enjoy being thwarted, even on something so minor. Maybe he hoped to use the time in the limo to work, since cell phones and laptop computers made it possible to do anything, almost anywhere.
It couldn’t be easy for a busy billionaire to drop everything for a weekend in Victoria, especially with a woman like her. If she was sexy and exciting like Julia Roberts or Marilyn Monroe it might be different and he wouldn’t mind so much. But she wasn’t.
Beth sighed, unaccountably depressed.
It wasn’t as if she actually wanted Kane O’Rourke to like her that way, even if her body was all for the idea.
“Beth?”
She realized he’d said something and she’d been too distracted to hear. “What?”
“I asked if you have any particular likes or dislikes I should know about. That is, about restaurants or things to do?”
“Anything is fine.”
Kane’s eyes darkened to the color of midnight. “A little cooperation would be nice. This is a two-day date, and I want you to enjoy it. We should plan things you’re interested in doing.”
Beth put down her plastic fork and shoved the remains of her sandwich and coleslaw to one side. “Let’s get something clear, this isn’t a date, it’s…it’s…”
He looked amused again. “It’s what?”
“Well it’s nothing like a date,” she snapped. “I’m only going to Victoria to help the family crisis center, and you’re only going to help your brother. That’s all.”
There. She’d established the ground rules. Kane couldn’t possibly think she had any interest in him as a man, and she’d made it clear she knew he wasn’t interested, either. There wouldn’t be any embarrassing misunderstandings to make the weekend uncomfortable.
That is…any more uncomfortable.
Because even if her head and heart weren’t interested, her body had gone over the fence. You would think after everything she’d experienced in her twenty-six years—including the death of her fiancé—she wouldn’t respond to such an unsuitable man. But Kane O’Rourke was so gorgeous he was knocking her hormones on their heels.
“Look,” she said. “I have to go back to work.”
“Yes, to your store in Crockett.”
Beth blinked. “How did you know about that? Did you have me investigated?”
Shaking his head, Kane motioned to the newspaper laying on his desk. “That last article was very thorough.” He waited, then let out a breath. “You do know there’ll be photographers going with us to take pictures in Victoria? Maybe even a television crew. The whole point of the contest is publicity for Patrick’s station. And I’ll have to announce you’ve decided to go after all, so you might have reporters bothering you again.”
She rolled her eyes. “Like they ever stopped?”
“Er…right. I’ll walk you down to your car.”
“No,” Beth said hastily. “I’m fine.”
He ignored her, of course, and all the way down to the parking garage she was aware of curious glances from Kane’s employees. He didn’t seem to notice and she wondered how you ever got used to being the center of attention. It was probably something that happened gradually, until you didn’t even realize that everyone was watching.
As Kane held the car door for her, he smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday morning…we need to leave by six to be sure of catching the ferry.”
She forced a smile of her own. “Great. Six sharp. Do me a favor, though.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t wear a suit.”
Kane laughed as Beth pulled from her parking space. To his surprise, he was actually looking forward to the weekend. There were worse things than spending time with a woman who wasn’t marriage hungry and anxious to score with a man simply because he had a hefty bank account.
In the meantime he had a hell of a lot of work to do. Somehow, the more money he made, the less freedom he seemed to have. Weekends were just two more days to get things done, and taking one off would mean lots of catching up.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had lunch without reading reports at the same time—it seemed a waste to just eat when he could be getting something done.
Still, it was rather nice eating with Beth like that. Between her stubborn attitude and that blasted contest she should have been a thorn in his side, but it wasn’t turning out that way.
The alarm went off at five on Saturday morning and Beth opened a bleary eye. “Shut up,” she growled.
The clock kept blaring and she stuffed a pillow over her head. She didn’t like morning at the best of times, but especially not after failing to sleep more than a couple of hours the night before. Then the phone rang, joining the noise from the radio. Beth moaned and grabbed it, succeeding in knocking the radio to the floor. It made a squawking noise, then fell into blessed silence.
“Yes?” she mumbled into the receiver.
“You’re still in bed, aren’t you?”
“Uh…Emily.”
It was her business partner at the clothing store. They got along great except for her being one of those annoying morning people who woke with the sun. Of course, she had incentive—a husband who worshiped the ground she walked on, along with a darling daughter and another baby on the way. Most of the time Beth managed not to envy Emily, but for the last several days she’d found her heart aching more than usual.
It didn’t make sense, because she didn’t want something from Kane. She just wanted…something. Beth dropped her head back on a pillow and wondered when her comfortable life had become inadequate.
“Yup, it’s me,” Emily said. “You have to get up, you have one hour to make yourself beautiful for Kane O’Rourke.”
Beth made a face. “That would take more than an hour, it would take a miracle.”
Her friend sighed. “You’re a very attractive woman.”
“Says the woman with the face of an angel,” Beth retorted. “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
Putting the phone down, Beth pushed away the blankets, yawning and stretching, relishing the cool morning air on her bare skin. She’d already packed an overnight bag; it waited in the living room.
Padding into the bathroom, she glanced into the mirror. Her nipples were drawn tight, crowning her barely B-cup breasts. “A little cleavage would have been nice,” she murmured. Overall her figure wasn’t awful, but it certainly didn’t inspire any great male fantasies.
She’d barely been touched by a man, even during her brief engagement. It was her own fault. Curt had wanted to make love, but she’d been determined to “do things right” with a traditional wedding night. Now she wished they had made love a hundred times. At least she’d have something to remember…something to distract her from thinking about Kane O’Rourke.
“At least I’m a natural blonde,” Beth said, lifting her chin. Dark blond, to be sure, but blond. Not that Kane would ever see the proof of it.
When the doorbell rang fifty-five minutes later she was just finished swiping mascara on her lashes. She grabbed her purse and overnight bag and hurried to the door.
“I’m ready,” she said, flinging it open.
Kane waited, one hand holding a bunch of flowers, the other tucked into a pair of jeans. She stared, breathless at the difference casual clothing could make. A white shirt emphasized his shoulders—shoulders that seemed even more broad and muscular now that they weren’t covered by an expensive suit. He looked younger, more relaxed, and altogether sexy.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, taking the bag from her fingers.
“Yes. I mean, no. Nothing.”
He held out the flowers and she tore her gaze from his face and took the bouquet. It was a surprising mix of small yellow roses and daisies. “Thank you.”
Beth locked the door, her heart racing even harder. Kane O’Rourke in a suit was enough to make a woman think twice about all kinds of things; in a pair of jeans he could make serious inroads on her principles. Especially carrying daisies.
The bouquet did make her wonder, but it was probably just for publicity. At the thought, a thread of sadness crept through her. She loved flowers, but Curt had been the practical sort who didn’t go for romantic gestures—or else she just didn’t inspire that kind of thing.
At the curb sat a black limousine. Behind it idled a Chevy Blazer, black also. A photographer was filming them from an open window and her cheeks warmed. It had to be the newspeople Kane had warned her about earlier in the week. The opulence of the stretch limo made her grateful for the early hour since her neighbors would still be in bed—a hope that was dashed when she saw a curious face peer from the house across the street.
Swell.
She waved and scrambled into the vehicle with more haste than grace, sinking into the butter-soft leather seat. She put the flowers to one side and pushed her hands into the cushions, trying to sit straight.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.
Kane handed Beth’s bag to the chauffeur and climbed in next to her. “What’s ridiculous?”
“Spending this kind of money on a car.”
He hid his smile. “There’s nothing wrong with a little luxury. Besides, it gives us time to talk.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s a great idea. Like we have anything in common to talk about.”
“We’ll find something.” Kane stretched his legs out and rolled his shoulders. He suspected Beth was one of those people who got up a little irritable in the morning, which unfortunately led to thoughts of the ways he could find to wake her up in a better mood.
He wouldn’t be taking it anywhere, but it was baffling the way she made him feel. Beth Cox was too young for him, too innocent and too damned much trouble.
So why did he have this urge to spend the next seventy-plus miles kissing her senseless?
Chapter Three (#ulink_bb6e732c-858b-59dc-891e-c2f2c6db92e8)
“I can’t believe we’re actually taking a limousine to Victoria,” Beth said as they climbed to the passenger deck of the ferry. “Talk about conspicuous consumption.”
Kale shrugged. “It’s easier to have someone drive us around the city. But if you want, we can walk off with the foot passengers, rather than ride the limo.”
“You mean, in company with our chaperons?” She cast a significant glance at the camera crew toting equipment along behind them. They were lagging behind, struggling with their load on the steep and rather narrow stairway.
“Hey, I warned you there’d be photographers.”
“As if I had any choice in the matter.”
He chuckled, knowing there was a shred of truth in what Beth had said. She could have turned down the money for her charity, but he wouldn’t have stopped until he’d found a way to change her mind. It was one thing for him to be embarrassed by a newspaper article, another for his brother’s business—and pride—to be hurt, however innocently it might have happened.
They walked to the bow of the ferry and stood with excited passengers as the ferry chugged away from the pier. Seagulls screamed and dove above them with impertinent challenges, and as the boat made its way around the breakwater, the breeze picked up and the sea became choppier.
Beth leaned on the rail and gazed into the horizon, a far-off expression on her face. Gradually the cold early-morning wind off the Strait of Juan de Fuca drove their fellow passengers inside, leaving them alone on the deck—alone except for the stubborn camera crew, who had set up a discreet twenty feet away. At least they didn’t have to worry about every word they said being recorded.
“Aren’t you freezing?” he asked finally.
“No, but you don’t have to stay outside because of me,” she murmured.
Kane rested his elbows on the rail next to her. “I’m fine, but I’m wearing more clothes than you are.”
“Is there something wrong with my clothing?” Beth asked, her head tilted in challenge.
“Nope. You look terrific.” His tone grew a little husky and he hoped she’d put it down to chilly wind and noise from the ferry engines. The cold air was doing what a lover’s hands would accomplish, puckering her nipples beneath a thin green T-shirt. White shorts cupped her trim bottom, the cuffs a respectable three inches above her knees, and a pair of sandals emphasized the slender length of her legs.
There was nothing obvious or overblown about Beth, just an understated elegance he’d never fully appreciated before in a woman.
“So tell me,” he said, forcing his gaze out to the blue-green water of the Strait and away from temptation. “You never explained what was so terrible about us going on a date together.”
“I told you, this isn’t—”
“A date,” Kane finished for her. “I know. But it doesn’t matter what you call it, you still said ‘no.”’
