Summer Mahogany (6 page)

But Nate Gaynes ignored her question. "He's a good bit older than you. You realize that, don't you?"

"You were eleven years older than grandma," she pointed out, adding the dish soap.

He ignored that comment, too. "And you don't know how he is with women. With his money and background, females probably fall all over him. It ain't the kind of thing that would make him exactly respectful. He's probably used to takin' what he wants and throwin' it away when he don't care about it anymore."

"You don't know that for sure," Gina protested lamely.

"You have to admit he isn't a 'please-and-thank-you' man." Gina didn't respond to that observation. More pipe smoke filled the air as her grandfather paused before continuing. "There's another thing. He'll be leavin' soon. Chances are he won't be comin' back this way, maybe never."

"What are you trying to say, grandfather?" she demanded stiffly, forsaking her more affectionate term of address at his calm but disheartening reasoning. "Are you trying to tell me I shouldn't see him again?"

"No," he drawled slowly. "I ain't a-tellin' you what to do nor what not to do. I just don't want you to go gettin' carried away by somethin' that probably don't have a snowball's chance of amountin' to anything."

"Yes, gramps," Gina submitted.

But his words only filled her with a sense of desperation. She simply had to see Rhyder. Everything would be all right if only she could see him again. Then her grandfather's warnings would prove empty.

It wasn't until the following day that she was able to see him. He was on the deck of his boat polishing the brass fittings when she approached. At the sound of her footsteps on the wooden dock, he glanced up, nodded, and returned his attention to his work.

"Hello, Gina," Rhyder greeted her smoothly.

"Hi. You're working hard, I see," she returned.

"Trying to." He smiled at her briefly, but continued with his task.

"I heard Pete had to fly home yesterday," Gina said.

"That's right." Rhyder straightened. "His sister was in a serious automobile accident."

"Was she hurt very badly?"

"Not as badly as they thought at first," he answered, glancing at the gold watch on his wrist. "He phoned me last night to let me know."

"Is he coming back?" she inquired, trying to conceal how deeply interested she was in his answer.

His mouth tightened. "Unless Jill, his sister, develops complications, he'll be back at the end of the week."

"You're on your own until then, huh?" She smiled with difficulty, crossing her fingers that he might say something about spending time with her.

Rhyder shrugged and turned away. "I don't mind."

She bit into her lip, nibbling briefly at it's softness. "If you get tired of your own cooking, you can come have supper with gramps and me one night," she offered tentatively.

"Maybe." But he made it sound as if it were unlikely he would take her up on the invitation.

"Would you like some help polishing the brass?"

"I can manage."

The corners of her mouth sagged downward in bitter disappointment. Rhyder couldn't have made it plainer that he didn't want her around. The ocean green of her eyes became murky with despair, the thick fringe of her long lashes adding to their troubled darkness. She reached inside herself to extract a measure of pride.

"I won't keep you from your work, then," she declared, half-turned to leave.

There was a half-smothered oath from Rhyder, then, "Gina!" which drew her resentful glance. "If you want to make yourself useful, you can fix some coffee," he stated. Immediately a savage grimness entered his expression as if he was angry with himself for making the suggestion.

Gina hesitated, stiffly aware that he was regretting his offer. She wouldn't be indulged, like a child. "You're very self-sufficient, Rhyder. I'm sure you can fix it yourself."

His look hardened. "I asked you." He turned his back to her and resumed his polishing.

He wasn't the type to beg her. The decision was hers and she would be a fool to pass up the chance for his company. There might not be another. Swallowing her pride, Gina stepped aboard.

Rhyder didn't turn around to look at her as he said, "You know where everything is. Bring it on deck when it's ready."

Bitterness welled inside her. Sure, Gina thought resentfully as she stiffly descended the steps to the galley, bring it on deck where they would be in full view of everyone at the harbor. Instead of one chaperon, Pete, they would have a dozen or more.

She obeyed his edict and dutifully carried the mugs on deck when the coffee was done. Gina had half expected Rhyder to continue his work and ignore her. It was a pleasant surprise when he set down his polishing rag to take the coffee.

While it cooled to a drinkable temperature, they talked about sailing, the coast of Maine, the weather, and various other inconsequential things. His air of friendliness enveloped Gina in a warm feeling of pleasure. All her earlier resentment was gone.

"It's going to be a warm night tonight," Rhyder commented.

She gazed skyward, noting the high cirrus clouds moving in. Mare's tails, she thought, meant rain tomorrow, but she didn't say that.

"Yes," she agreed with his remark, redirecting her gaze to his strong, carved profile. "It will be a perfect night for a moonlight swim."

His gaze sliced to her, then shifted to his brown mug. There was a subtle change in his manner. "It probably will be," he conceded noncommittally.

"Are you doing anything special tonight?" Gina asked boldly.

"No, nothing special." There was a visible hardness to the line of his jaw.

"Well?" Gina tipped her head to one side in a flash of impatience. "Do I have to ask you to take me on a moonlight swim?"

"Gina," Rhyder began, breathing in her name with vague irritation, "why don't you invite some nice boy your own age? Someone who'll stroll along the beach with you and hold your hand, maybe steal a kiss or two while he shows you the stars. What you want is a harmless little flirtation." He looked at her long and hard. "I'm a man, Gina; I don't play those innocent roles anymore. You should be seeing someone who doesn't want to make love to you every time he takes you in his arms."

"Maybe that's what I want you to do," she breathed in helpless longing.

"Don't be deliberately provocative, Gina," Rhyder ordered sharply, but the smoldering darkness of his blue eyes was involuntarily running over her curved figure, belying the adult indifference he was trying to project. "If you had any brains in that beautiful head of yours, you would avoid me like the plague," he finished grimly.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" Gina murmured. Only his backhanded compliment registered in her mind.

"You know you are." His gaze locked onto hers, almost unwillingly, as if compelled by a force he fiercely resented. "Those eyes of yours, like the emerald depths of the ocean, luring a man on until…"

He broke off in midsentence, taking a step away from her toward the railing. He stood there with his legs slightly apart, braced to the gentle roll of the boat, and gazed at the limitless stretch of ocean.

Rhyder's words thrilled Gina to the very marrow of her being because they were so reluctantly issued and had ended the instant he realized what he was revealing.

Confident now of her attraction, Gina moved to his side. She stood at a right angle to him. "No one has ever said anything like that to me before," she commented artlessly.

Nothing in the carved mahogany of his features indicated he had heard her. He seemed like a statue of some mythological sun god. Gina was overwhelmed by an urge to touch him and make sure he was flesh and blood, not some figment of her imagination.

This compulsion carried her hand to his sun-browned arm. The muscles contracted at the touch of her fingers, rippling in reaction. His head jerked downward to stare at the hand lightly resting on his arm. Finally his gaze lifted to her face.

An impenetrable mask covered his features, but the blazing passion in his eyes jolted through her. Rhyder turned slowly to face her and Gina's hand dropped to her side. He towered above her, vitally masculine, so close that she had to tip her head back to see his face. Scant inches separated their bodies, yet neither of them attempted to bridge the short distance.

A wild pagan song was drumming through her pulse. Flames of passion engulfed her, licking her nerve ends until her skin burned. He was seducing her, making love to her in his mind. And the spiritual union was as real to Gina as it would have been if her flesh had actually experienced his possession.

When the soundless music playing between them rose to a crescendo, they strained toward each other without breaking the invisible barrier of inches. Rhyder seemed to strive for control.

"Gina," His voice was low and charged by the emotion-packed minutes. "Can you read my mind, too?"

"Yes," she answered weakly.

The spell that gripped them was broken by the long breath Rhyder exhaled, a sound of angry exasperation. He widened the distance between them, an expressionless mask stealing over his face.

"I think you'd better leave," he told her levelly.

Gina was stung by his withdrawal. "After I've cleared away the coffee things," she insisted stubbornly.

"Don't bother. I'll take care of them after you've gone," responded Rhyder in the same calm tone he had used before.

"You always seem to be telling me to leave," she sighed in frustration.

"I'm just trying to do what's right," he said with faint tautness.

"Right for whom?" Gina challenged. "For me? I think I'm a better judge of that."

He controlled the impatience that flashed across his face and said firmly, but gently, "Gina, I don't want to argue with you. This time you will go quietly without involving us in some harsh disagreement. We're both on edge," he breathed in, "and it isn't going to get any easier."

"All right." Gina submitted reluctantly to his logic and left with a simple goodbye.

THAT EVENING a rising, lopsided moon found Gina wandering along the quiet beach. Although Rhyder had not indicated that he would be meeting her for a moonlight swim, Gina had come on the chance he'd be there.

But the sands were deserted. There was only the soft rustle of nightlife and the subdued rush of waves onto the beach. For nearly an hour she waited, staring at the moon. It was almost full, looking as if someone had chiseled a silvery arc from its circle. Finally she returned home.

By the following afternoon, the portent of yesterday's mare's tail and mackerel sky had come true. It was raining steadily, without any sign of letup. The weather kept her grandfather at home. Gina was trapped there, as well, spending most of the rainy hours restlessly prowling the house trying to think of a valid excuse to leave.

She wanted to see Rhyder, but she didn't want her grandfather to know. It was the first time in her sixteen years that she could ever remember wanting to keep something from him. The subsequent guilt made her all the more tense.

The cloud-covered sky brought an early darkness. At half-past eight Nate Gaynes was dozing in his big armchair. From past experience Gina knew he would probably sleep there until after midnight before rousing to go to his bed.

All day long the events of the previous day and the comments Rhyder had made had been running through her mind. A decision had formed, one that Gina didn't want to think about in case she lost her courage. With her grandfather sleeping in the chair, she had the chance to put it into action.

Quietly she slipped out of the house and ran through the steadily falling raindrops to the harbor. Her heart was hammering madly against her ribs when she reached the dock. A light gleamed in the darkness from the port window of the
Sea Witch II
. Rhyder was there.

Pausing only for an instant, she hopped aboard and darted down the steps to knock at the galley door. It was opened almost instantly by Rhyder, who had probably risen at the sound of footsteps on deck. He stared at her for a stunned moment before becoming aware of the falling rain. He took hold of a wet wrist and drew her inside.

"What are you doing out in this downpour?" he muttered as he shut the door behind her.

"I wanted to see you." There was lilt of urgency in her voice.

He stared at her for another second, taking in the cotton blouse and slacks that were plastered against her skin, water dripping on the galley floor. More water trickled down her forehead from her rain-soaked hair.

"You're drenched to the skin," he accused her in irritation. "You should have worn a raincoat."

His words made her feel like a straggly kitten half-drowned by a downpour. "I know I should have," she admitted, shivering more from her cool reception than from the damp. "I forgot all about the rain when I made up my mind to come."

His mouth was compressed grimly for a minute. "Wait here," he ordered. "I'll get a towel or something to dry you off."

As he disappeared down the narrow corridor, Gina hesitated for a split second, then started stripping off the wet clothes until they lay in a watery puddle on the floor. Self-consciously she crossed her arms in front of her at the sound of Rhyder's return.