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Intent to Seduce
Intent to Seduce
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Intent to Seduce

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And she was gawking again. Tearing her eyes away, she looked back at the marina that was fast becoming a spec on the shoreline behind them. A small plane lifted and soared out over the water as it climbed steadily into the sky. Jill Roberts was heading back to D.C. Only when it disappeared did she allow herself to look at Lucas again. He stood there, totally impassive, as if he were alone on the boat.

Clearly, he was still annoyed. He’d spoken only two words to her since he’d gotten off the phone with Sophie. Once Jill had disappeared into the plane, Lucas had turned to her, his expression neutral, and said, “This way.”

His tone had been so cool she’d nearly shivered in spite of the hot southern Florida heat. They’d walked down to the small marina where he’d tied his boat. The moment she saw it, anxiety mixed with anticipation. It was her day for firsts, it seemed—her first time sitting in the cockpit of a plane and now her first time on a boat…to be topped off by her first time propositioning a man.

She glanced at him again. He stood completely at ease, his hands on the wheel, his feet planted apart, totally in control of the engine that roared beneath them. There was no sign now of the predator she’d glimpsed earlier. But it was still there, lurking. And it was touching off something in her. She pressed a hand against her stomach. The warm melting sensation that seemed to be centered there had nothing to do with the fact that the boat was beginning to bump more frequently into waves.

“Nervous?” Lucas had to shout the question.

“A little,” she shouted back. “This is my first time on a boat.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“I can’t imagine it. What did your family do on vacations?”

“They didn’t take me with them.”

“What about later?” Lucas asked. “You live in D.C. and you never went out on the water?”

“Too busy, I guess.” She moved toward him then, carefully maintaining her grip on the side of the boat as she did. “Is it easy to steer?”

“For me it is. I’ve been doing it most of my life.”

Suddenly, the boat struck a wave that lifted her feet right off the deck. The moment they smacked down, she felt them lift again, her stomach with them. The laugh escaped the moment she felt the boat solidly under her again.

The sound of Lucas’s laughter mingling with hers had her turning toward him.

“You have the makings of a good sailor, Doc. Would you like to take a turn behind the wheel?”

At her nod, he stepped back and she slipped in front of him. Once her hands were on the wheel, he covered them with his. “Feet apart. Hands steady.”

Lucas continued to talk, words of encouragement, but Mac’s mind couldn’t take it in. Just the sound of his voice in her ear was having the strangest effect on her breathing. And there were other sensations pouring through her. Instead of the salty air, it was Lucas’s scent she inhaled. He smelled like sun and sweat and something else that she couldn’t quite place. She could feel him too. His chest when it brushed against her back was like iron, and the hands trapping hers on the wheel were sure and firm, the palms surprisingly rough. For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined what it might be like to have those hard hands pressed against other parts of her body.

Another wave had him shifting closer. His hands tightened on hers, pulling the wheel to the right. An arrow of heat shot through her, and her heart began to beat hard and fast, just as it had when she’d been lying on top of him.

“I’d better take over.”

“Yes,” she thought. Oh, yes.

“Doc, are you all right?”

Her eyes shot open as he turned her around to face him. “I’m…fine,” she managed to say.

“You look a little weak in the knees. Why don’t you sit down? You can see the island off there to your right.”

Very carefully, Mac made it to the cushioned seat that ran along the side of the boat. Just as soon as Lucas wasn’t actually touching her, some of her strength returned. It also helped that she wasn’t looking at him.

Fascinating, she thought as she focused her attention on a tiny speck some distance away in the water. Her reaction the first time he’d held her hadn’t been an aberration. Lucas Wainright could definitely turn her mind and body to mush.

And she liked it.

However, it would add complications to her research. How was she supposed to keep her mind on creating male sexual fantasies if Lucas could scatter her thoughts and melt her into a puddle whenever he touched her?

Narrowing her eyes, she watched the speck become larger. It was a problem she’d have to solve.

4

WHEN SHE STEPPED OUT onto the dock, Mac’s eyes were first drawn to the white sand beach that stretched in both directions until it curved out of sight. Waves broke against it, then drew back to attack again in a steady rhythm. Fifty yards ahead, palm trees shaded a squat box of a cabin with a covered porch. Almost covered, she amended when she saw the ladder tipped against it, a pile of shingles stacked on its sloping roof.

Lucas grabbed her suitcase and climbed out of the boat. “I hope you’re not expecting anything fancy. Every time I come down here I try to make a few improvements, but it’s pretty rustic.”

“It’s lovely.” Pausing as she stepped off the dock, she looked at the sweep of shore again. “I’ve never seen a beach that wasn’t thronged with people. You must love it here.”

He looked at her for a moment. “I do. None of the rest of my family does. They call this place Lucas’s Folly.”

It was impossible to imagine the confident man striding in front of her up the path to the cabin as being capable of folly. She found her gaze riveted on his broad shoulders. Beneath the thin polo shirt he was wearing, she could see the easy, sure movement of muscles as he swung her suitcase in rhythm with his stride. She’d learned in her research that from a psychological standpoint, a woman who was attracted to a man’s muscular shoulders was probably looking for a strong emotional bond.

That was the last thing she wanted with Lucas Wainright, she reminded herself. If her plan was going to work at all, he was just someone she would practice on. A guinea pig.

She forced her gaze down the length of his back to his waist and below…. Suddenly, her mouth went dry as dust. He had what Madame Gervais would definitely call in her Parisian French a…

As she watched him climb the porch steps, the foreign words escaped her. “Great buns” was the only description she could think of in English. His cutoff jeans fit over his backside like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination…just enough to make her wonder what his skin would feel like beneath that denim. Soft and smooth…firm and hard? Would it feel as hot as her own skin was beginning to feel?

The urge to find out was so sudden, so strong that Mac stopped dead in her tracks. If she hadn’t, she was sure she would have reached out and actually placed the palm of her hand on Lucas’s butt.

She made herself take a deep breath and let it out. In spite of the heat, the air felt cool compared to the fire that had started to burn in her body. What in the world was the matter with her? She’d never before found herself mesmerized by a man’s derriere—that was the French word. According to Madame Gervais, women who were attracted to that particular body part were lusty adventurers who were looking for similar qualities in a man.

The thought of herself as a “lusty adventurer” nearly made her laugh. Still, it might be evidence that she did have a sensual side to her nature, after all.

It was only as Lucas opened the door of the cabin and glanced back over his shoulder that she realized she was staring at that part of his anatomy.

“Are you all right?” Lucas asked.

“Fine.” She moved quickly up the steps and into the cabin. The air was stuffy and even warmer than outside. Or perhaps it was her own inner temperature rising because she was standing close to Lucas again. Close enough to touch.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, she focused her full attention on the small, tidy interior of the room. Though the darkness contrasted sharply with the glaring brightness outside, she noted that the room was minimally furnished with a couch, a coffee table, a desk and a chair. At one end, a wooden counter with two stools tucked beneath its wide ledge framed a space for a tiny kitchen. There was no clutter, nothing to suggest that the place was occupied except for the laptop computer and thick, sturdy briefcase that sat on the desk.

It was then that she noticed the framed photographs that nearly covered the wall above. Curious, she moved closer to get a better look. Most of the pictures were snapshots of Sophie and her younger brothers, the step-twins. Nicholas and Nathaniel’s high-school graduation, Sophie’s graduation from college. She’d met Sophie five years ago when she’d been doing postdoctoral work and Sophie had been finishing her undergraduate degree. They’d been fast friends ever since.

Her gaze shifted to a shot of the opening of Sophie’s antique shop in Georgetown. And there were others that captured less formal occasions—Sophie and the step-twins beneath a Christmas tree, a teenage Sophie standing by a red convertible dangling the keys from her fingers. There were twenty pictures in all, a sort of family album/mural, except that there were no parents in any of them. And no sign of Lucas.

Her attention was caught and held by the last photo in the bottom row. She was in it, standing next to Sophie. Lucas had snapped a victory picture after she and Sophie had beaten him at tennis.

Something moved through her then. Envy? Longing? Lifting her hand, she ran her fingers over the frame. The pictures were concrete evidence of something she already knew. Lucas Wainright valued his family.

“You played a great game. I’d be glad to make you a copy of the photo, if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” As she turned, she nearly bumped into him.

He handed her a bottle of water. “You’d better drink it all. In this kind of heat, it’s easy to become dehydrated.”

She took a long swallow, then watched as Lucas drained his bottle. She was close enough to see a drip of water run from the corner of his mouth to his chin, and then down the long column of his throat. In her mind, she imagined what it might be like to trace its path with her finger, to feel the coolness of the water, the heat of his skin underneath.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Mac reined them in. This was the second time in almost as many minutes that she’d fantasized about touching Lucas Wainright.

“Sophie says you have a problem you’d like my help with.”

Her nerves slithered into a knot in her stomach, and she felt the bottle slip from her fingers.

Lucas caught it before it hit the floor and handed it back to her. “That bad, huh?”

Before she could reply, he took her arm and led her out to the porch. “Why don’t you sit down. You can finish that water while I fix some sandwiches. We’ll talk about it over lunch.”

In the doorway, he turned back to her. “You can stay here as long as you want. If it helps any, Sophie was pretty sure I could help. And I’m certainly willing to do anything I can.”

WAS HE GOING CRAZY? Lucas spread slices of bread out on the counter. Standing on that boat with her body so close to his had turned his brain to mush and another part of his anatomy into something hard, erect and ready to go.

Except it wasn’t going anywhere. Taking a calming breath, he slapped slices of ham, then cheese on the bread. MacKenzie Lloyd was his sister’s best friend, and he could not, would not, get involved with her. He’d vowed a long time ago to keep his relationships with women entirely separate from his family. He never dated anyone in his family’s social circle, and he never brought any of his women friends home. It was just one of the methods he used to ensure that the women in his life never nurtured the false expectation that he would marry them. His other method was to be totally honest with them up front.

What was he thinking when he’d invited MacKenzie Lloyd to stay as long as she wanted?

Dumb question. He reached into the small refrigerator for mustard and spread it liberally on the ham. He hadn’t been thinking at all. His mind had been too busy remembering the way her scent had wrapped itself around him, the way her hair, whipped back by the wind, had felt against his chin. And once he’d led her into the cabin, his mind had taken the leap from memory to fantasy, and had totally immersed itself in imagining what it would be like to make love with Dr. MacKenzie Lloyd.

Even as she’d settled herself on the steps, the image had slipped into his mind of sitting right down beside her and slipping her out of that neat little blouse, then the slacks. He’d been wondering just what it was that she wore beneath that cool-looking linen. Thin, white, practical cotton—the kind that schoolgirls wore—was what he’d pictured. Once he’d discarded that, he could spend the entire afternoon pleasuring her until she was spent and limp beneath him. And then he could begin again.

Bending down, he grabbed two beers from the cooler. He couldn’t recall another woman who’d aroused such erotic fantasies in him. And she’d yet to give him any indication that the attraction he felt was mutual.

Was that what fascinated him? That cool, seemingly unflappable image that she projected? Certainly, he was curious about what lay beneath the surface. He’d already discovered that she wasn’t as serious as she seemed. It had been pure, innocent enjoyment he’d seen in her eyes when that wave had lifted her right up off the deck of the boat.

And her laugh. Just recalling the sound of it had him wanting to surprise another one out of her.

Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she appeared to be. He could think of several interesting ways to test that theory.

And he’d be a fool to put any of them to the test. Slapping the sandwiches onto a plate, he snagged the beers with his free hand and walked back out onto the porch.

She wasn’t there.

“Mac!”

He was off the steps and scanning the beach when she said, “I’m up here.”

Fear shot through him when he saw her perched on the sloping roof of the porch. “What the hell are you doing? You’re afraid of heights.”

“I’m also a coward. This is my way of summoning up some Dutch courage so that I can tell you why I’m here. But you may have to eat without me. I’m not sure I can get down.”

Whatever else she was, MacKenzie Lloyd wasn’t a coward. And what in the world had her so frightened that she’d climb onto a roof to screw up her courage? Tucking the bottles under his arm, he started up the ladder. “We’ll eat up there then. I don’t relish the thought of being flattened again if you decide to jump.”

He had the pleasure of seeing her lips curve in a ghost of a smile as he settled himself beside her and distributed the sandwiches and beer. “Is it helping? To sit up here, I mean?”

“My stomach is still in a knot. But watching the water helps.”

“Take a drink of the beer.”

She glanced at it dubiously. “It’ll make me want to take a nap.”

“That’s allowed. In fact, with the sun at its hottest, it’s a very smart plan.”

Damn tempting too. Lucas pushed away the image of lying down next to her on the narrow cot in his bedroom. He was trying not to think about the fact that he’d have to carry her down the ladder, but his body was already reacting to the possibility.

“Plan. Yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She took a quick sip from the bottle, and when some beer dripped onto her wrist, she touched her tongue to it.

Lucas felt the hot lick of desire and took a long swallow of his own beer. “Sophie said you had a problem.”

“That’s because she didn’t approve of my plan.”

“She wants me to handle it.”

“Exactly.” Holding the bottle tightly in two hands, she kept her eyes on the sea. “I should begin by giving you some background. I want a family someday. For me that means kids and marriage. Not in that order, of course.” She shot him a sideways glance. “I’m not one of those women who wants to raise children in a single-parent household. I know from experience that it can make for an unhappy childhood, so I want to avoid it at all costs. That’s why I want to be prepared. A good plan is everything in the lab.” She glanced at him briefly. “It must be the same way in a business deal.”

“Yes,” Lucas said. “But I’m not sure I’m following you.”

Mac took another swallow of beer. “What are your feelings about divorce?”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “I want to avoid it at all costs. That’s why I’ll never marry.”

She nodded, then drank more beer. Lucas watched her lick the moisture from her lips as she lowered the bottle and turned to face him. “I want to avoid it too. We just differ in out approaches to the problem. I want to get married and my research is designed to make sure my marriage lasts forever.”

Bells began to ring in Lucas’s head—the ones that always warned him about women who were thinking about weddings. “I don’t intend to get married. Ever.”

“Of course you don’t. You already have a family. I only had one until I was five. That’s when my father’s eye started to wander.” She took another long swallow of beer, then glanced at the bottle. “You know, you were right about this. It is relaxing me.”

“Maybe too much,” Lucas muttered. “Have you had anything to eat today, Doc?”

“No. I never eat before I fly.” She tipped the bottle up again and drank thirstily. “It’s been ages since I’ve had beer. I didn’t think I liked it, but I do.”

“You were talking about wandering eyes.” His own sure weren’t wandering. They were glued to MacKenzie Lloyd’s mouth as she licked the last trace of beer from her lips.

“First it’s the eyes, and then it’s the whole body. Did you know that infidelity is the number-one cause of divorce? And the number-one reason for one of the partners to stray is that monogamy usually leads to monotony? Hopefully, my plan will prevent that.”

“How?”