“Hey-”
“But I’m saying it now,” she told him, and even wagged a finger at him as if he were a misbehaving ten-year- old. “You can fire me for it if you want to, but you’ll never get another assistant as good as I am and you know it…”
Gritting his teeth because he knew she was right, Nick nodded and ordered, “Spit it out then.”
“Jenna’s not the kind to lie.”
A bark of laughter shot from his throat.
“Okay, fine, she didn’t tell you she was an employee. But that was one mistake. Remember, I knew her then, too, Nick. She’s a nice kid with a good heart.”
He shifted uncomfortably because he didn’t want her to be right. It was much easier on him to think of Jenna as a liar and a manipulator. Those kind of women he knew how to deal with. A nice woman? What the hell was he supposed to do with one of those?
“
“That hasn’t been confirmed yet,” he said quickly.
“They look just like you,” she countered.
“All babies look like Winston Churchill,” Nick argued, despite the fact that he knew damn well she was right.
“Yeah?” She smiled and shook her head. “Winston never looked that good in his life, I guarantee it. They’ve got your eyes. Your hair. Your dimples.” Teresa paused, reached out and laid one hand on his forearm. “She’s not lying to you, Nick. You’re a father. And you’re going to have to figure out how you want to deal with that.”
He turned his face toward the sea and let the wind slap at him. The wide stretch of openness laid out in front of him was usually balm enough to calm his soul and soothe whatever tensions were crowded inside him. But it wasn’t working now. And maybe it never would again.
Because if he was a father…then his involvement with those kids wasn’t going to be relegated to writing a check every month. He’d be damned if his children were going to grow up not knowing him. Whether Jenna wanted him around or not, he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to be a part of their lives, even if that meant he had to take them away from their mother to do it.
The ship felt deserted.
With most of the passengers still on shore exploring Acapulco, Jenna wandered decks that made her feel as if she were on board a ghost ship. That evening, she was back in Nick’s suite and feeling on edge. She’d showered, changed into a simple, blue summer dress and was now fighting the fidgets as she waited for Nick to come back to the suite for dinner.
Funny, she’d spent nearly every waking moment with him over the past few days, feeling her inner tension mount incrementally. She’d convinced herself that what she needed was time to herself. Time away from Nick, to relax. Unwind a little, before the stress of being so close to him made her snap.
So she’d had that time to herself today and she was more tense than ever.
“Oh, you’re in bad shape, Jenna,” she whispered as she walked out onto Nick’s balcony. She was a wreck when she was with him, and when she wasn’t, she missed him. Her hair lifted off her neck in the wind, and the hem of her dress fluttered about her knees. Her sandals made a soft click of sound as she walked across the floor and she wrapped her arms around herself more for comfort than warmth.
From belowdecks, a soft sigh of music from the ballroom reached her, and the notes played on the cool ocean breeze, as if they’d searched her out deliberately. The plaintive instrumental seeped into her soul and made her feel wistful. What if coming on this trip had been a big mistake? What if telling Nick about their sons hadn’t been the right thing to do? What if-she stopped her wildly careening thoughts and told herself it was too late to worry about any of that now. The deed was done. What would happen would happen and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it now.
She sighed, leaned on the balcony railing and stared out at the sea. Moonlight danced on the surface of the water in a shimmer of pale silver. Clouds scuttled across a star-splashed sky, and the ever-present wind lifted her hair from her shoulders with a gentle touch.
“This reminds me of something.”
Nick’s deep voice rumbled along Jenna’s spine, and she had to pull in a deep breath before she turned her head to look at him. He stood in the open doorway to the balcony. Hands in his pockets, he wore black slacks, a gleaming white shirt and a black jacket that looked as if it had been expertly tailored. His dark hair was wind ruffled, his pale eyes were intense, and his jaw was tight.
Her heart tumbled in her chest.
“What’s that?” she whispered, amazed that she’d been able to squeeze out a few words.
He stepped out onto the balcony, and with slow, measured steps, walked toward her. “The night we met,” he said, taking a place beside her at the railing. “Remember?”
How could she forget? She’d been standing on the Pavilion Deck of
So Jenna had claimed that shadowy spot as her own and had gone there nearly every night to stand and watch the sea while the music from the club drifted around her. She’d never run into anyone else there, until the night Nick had stumbled across her.
“I remember,” she said, risking a sidelong glance at him. She shouldn’t have. He was too close. His eyes too sharp, his mouth too lickable. His scent too rich and too tempting. Her insides twisted and she dropped both hands to the cold, iron railing, holding tight.
“You were dancing, alone in the dark,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken at all. As if he were prompting her memory. “You didn’t notice me, so I watched you as you swayed to the music, tipping your head back, your hair sliding across your shoulders.”
“Nick…”
“You had a smile on your face,” he said, his voice lower now, deeper, and she wouldn’t have thought that was possible. “As if you were looking up into the eyes of your lover.”
Jenna swallowed hard and shifted uneasily as her body blossomed with heat. With need. “Don’t do this, Nick…”
“And I wanted to be the lover you smiled at. The lover you danced with in the dark.” He ran the tip of one finger down the length of her arm, and Jenna shivered at the sizzle of something deliciously hot and wicked sliding through her system.
She sucked in a gulp of air, but it didn’t help. Her mind was still spinning, her heart racing and her body lighting up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered, and heard the desperate plea in her own voice.
“Because I still want you,” he said, moving even closer, dropping his hands onto her shoulders and turning her until she was facing him, until their bodies were so close only a single lick of flame separated them. “Because I watched you standing in the moonlight and knew that if I didn’t touch you, I’d explode. I want you. Just as I did then. Maybe more.”
Oh, she felt the same way. Everything in Jenna clamored at her to move into him. To lean her body against his. To feel the strength and warmth of him surrounding her. But she held back. Determined to fight. To hold on to the reins of the desire that had once steered her down a road that became more rocky the further along she went.
“It would be a mistake,” she said, shaking her head, trying to ignore the swell of music, the slide of the trombone, the wail of the saxophone, that seemed to call to something raw and wild inside her. “You know it would.”
“No,” he said, sliding his hands up, along her shoulders, up the length of her throat, to cup her face between his palms. “This time would be different. This time, we know who we are. This time we know what we’re getting into. It’s just need, Jenna.” His gaze moved over her features, and her breath caught and held in a strangled knot in her chest. “We both feel it. We both want this. Why deny ourselves?”
Why indeed?
Her mind fought with her traitorous body, and Jenna knew that rational thought was going to lose. The need was too great. The desire too hot. The temptation too strong. She did want him. She’d wanted him from the moment she first saw him more than a year ago. She’d missed him, dreamed of him, and now that he was here,
