“I’ll bet he did.” Pride had expected that. “I’m going to have a heck of a time getting him back on his schedule.”
“You’re right,” Flynn said, chuckling. “I’m afraid I stayed until they put him to bed, which increased his excitability quotient. He’s quite a boy, Pride.”
She couldn’t hide her joy in hearing others agree with her assessment of her son. “Yes, he is, isn’t he? He’s the only person in the world who’s more stubborn than you are.”
“That bad?” He smiled tenderly at her. “Are you, by any chance, hoping to beat the stubbornness out of him at a young age?”
“Of course I am,” she returned. “God forbid that some young woman in the future should have to go through what I did to get my point across.”
“Poor Johnny,” Flynn murmured.
“Poor young woman, if I’m not successful,” Pride corrected.
She examined the carton Flynn had placed on the seat beside her. It contained biscuits, scrambled eggs, and bacon, and it smelled like heaven. She shucked the wrapper off the package of plastic utensils and dug in.
“You’ve done a remarkable job with Johnny,” Flynn said. “For all his stubbornness, you’ve managed to teach him manners.”
“I’ve watched Gloria,” Pride said, in dismissive tones. “She’s a world-class expert in child-rearing.” She grinned. “But even Gloria says Johnny is going to need extra discipline if he isn’t to turn out like you.”
“Is that so? It’s a good thing you’ve introduced him to me, isn’t it? I can help you bear the burden of the extra discipline.”
“Now that I’ve introduced him to you, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Pride chewed a crisp slice of bacon in a reflective way. “I’ll start keeping a chart as soon as he’s old enough to understand. Every time he’s bad, I’ll enter a black mark on the chart. When you get him, you’ll be expected to apply discipline for each and every black mark.”
Flynn glanced at her. “That’s rough. The poor kid will dread seeing me.”
“No, he won’t. You’ll find Johnny is always determined that
this
time he’s going to get away with something.”
“Oh.”
“I have a feeling your mother can tell you something about that.” The prospect cheered Pride considerably.
“I guess there’s only one thing I can do, since you’re obviously going to refuse to be reasonable about this,” Flynn said thoughtfully.
“What’s that?” She sipped more coffee.
“I’ll have to continue with the abduction.”
An abduction didn’t sound quite so bad, now that she’d had coffee and food. “I’d rather go back home, if you don’t mind. I still have to get my column into final form, and email it to the newspaper — ”
“Pride, darling, abductors don’t ask the abductee’s blessing on the abduction.”
Pride gathered her utensils, coffee cup, and empty food carton back into the paper sack. “May I ask why you find it necessary to abduct me?”
“It’s quite simple, darling.” He smiled at her. “I’m going to see to it that there’s nothing to distract you while you consider my proposal.”
Pride rode halfway to Galveston in a state of bewildered disbelief. At any moment, Flynn would say he was teasing and turn the car around. Surely he wasn’t taking her sailing in her robe and nightie.
She ignored his mention of a proposal. Whatever it was, she didn’t think she wanted to know.
Flynn didn’t press her. He maintained a flow of small talk about Johnny’s antics the night before and his parents’ response to them. The elder Sutherlands felt they were dealing with a young Flynn all over again. They appeared both enchanted and frightened by the prospect.
“By the way,” Flynn said, in casual tones. “They’ll be keeping him for the next few days.”
Pride stared at his profile a moment but couldn’t think of anything adequate to say.
By the time the Bronco approached the causeway that led directly into Galveston, Pride had recovered herself.
“This really isn’t funny, Flynn. If you wanted to go sailing or something, you could have given me a few minutes to shower and put on some clothes.”
“No problem,” Flynn said, with a gesture that indicated the rear of the vehicle. “I’ve packed everything you’re likely to need.”
“You’ve what?”
She twisted to look over her shoulder. Flynn had packed the rear of the vehicle with totes and plastic bags.
“How long are you planning on staying out?” she asked.
“As long as it takes,” Flynn vowed.
Pride developed a fatalistic feeling about her chances of emailing her column to the
Chronicle
that morning.
She fell silent as Flynn turned down the familiar street leading to the marina. Planning what she was going to say to convince him to take her back home after a few hours spent sailing took all her concentration.
Flynn parked the car, and Pride noted that he had parked in almost the same — no,
exactly
the same — spot she had parked three years ago when she had awaited his return. Every muscle in her face and body felt frozen as she turned her head to look at Flynn. Nausea, hot and roiling, struck with a vengeance.
He unsnapped his seat belt and came to her, wrapping her in his arms.
“I realize I’ll never be able to completely undo the damage I did to your heart,” he said, holding her. “If I can just convince you that I hurt myself as much as I hurt you, maybe you’ll give me another chance at loving you.”
Pride sat very still. If she didn’t move, perhaps she wouldn’t upchuck her entire breakfast.
Flynn rubbed her back with his warm hands, and his breath stirred the hair at her temples. After several minutes, her tempestuous emotions grew calmer and the nausea lessened. She tried to straighten away from him.
“Hold still, darling,” he said gently. “Let me hold you a moment. Did you think I wouldn’t remember how you waited here for me all day, and the things I said to you when you tried to talk to me?”
She drew in a sharp, painful breath and tried to stop the tears that flooded her eyes. “Let me go, Flynn.”
He touched his lips to her forehead. “I’ll never let you go again. You may refuse to forgive me, but you’re going to belong to me.”
The tears vanished beneath the force of the anger that flooded her being. She shoved hard at his chest and succeeded in pushing him about six inches away.
“That’s what you think, Flynn Sutherland. There is no way I’m going to marry you if you abduct me like this. Do you hear that?”
Flynn chuckled and wrapped her in his arms once more. Pride felt like a small, yapping dog enveloped in the arms of a friendly giant.
“I hear you,” Flynn said. “However, I’m ignoring you.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Pride grumbled.
Flynn laughed and reached across her to open the car door.
“Get your purse and your newspaper,” he said. “You look like a person who’s needed a vacation for a long time.”
She couldn’t think of anything bad enough to say to him. Worse, if she didn’t keep her thoughts even and her body still, the nausea worsened.
He unsnapped her seat belt, lifted her onto his lap then stepped out with her riding high in his arms.
“Flynn, put me back in the car. I don’t want to go sailing.”
“You don’t want to marry me, either,” Flynn pointed out. “But I’m ignoring you. Besides, as it happens, we aren’t going sailing.”
“Then what are we doing here?”
“We’re going yachting. My new boat awaits.”
“You bought that boat?” Pride shut up a moment, digesting this. “I get it. You’re marrying me for my money.”
“Right. The first payment comes due in a month. Do you think we can speed up the wedding so you can give me access to your account in time — ?”
Pride struck his shoulder with her fist then had to lie very still in his arms in order to avoid losing her breakfast.
Flynn laughed heartily as he carried her across the lot and walked down the wooden dock. She might have weighed nothing, judging from his free and easy stride.
Pride twisted in his arms and saw the large, blue and white motor yacht already waiting at the dock. The name caught her eye, and she gasped.
“Farah” had become “Sutherland’s Pride.”
“Did you ever find out who Farah was?” she asked, in her blandest tones.
“Don’t ask.”
Pride gulped back another upsurge of nausea and looked around for help as Flynn started up the boarding ladder with her in his arms. “Flynn, I do not wish to ride on this boat. Take me home immediately.”
“Sorry, darling.” He didn’t sound sorry. “It isn’t every woman who gets a yacht named after her. The least you can do is sanctify her launching with your presence.”
“I’ll sanctify it from the dock with a champagne bottle if you like.” She added, “Kindly leave me your car keys.”
Flynn hopped on deck and started toward the companionway, where he had to set her down to fish in his pocket for the keys so he could unlock the hatch.
Pride glanced around. The dock wasn’t active yet, but already men were unloading the paper sacks from Flynn’s Bronco. She stared, amazed. Moments ago, she had spotted no one on the dock.
Flynn had obviously laid his plans in advance. It looked as though the entire staff of the marina was cooperating with him. In another few moments, the men would board the boat with every one of Flynn’s totes and bags.
She had to do something fast, but her only two choices seemed to involve either a major hissy-fit or tossing her entire breakfast.
Before she could embark on either course of action, Flynn lifted her in his arms once more and carried her down the companionway and into the spacious cabin. He didn’t put her down until he had reached the aft stateroom, the boat’s master bedroom, where he set her gently on the bed.
She heard sounds on deck, indicating that the men had boarded with Flynn’s supplies. Her chance for escape was probably gone, if it had ever existed, she admitted to herself drily.
“Make yourself comfortable, darling,” Flynn said, smiling tenderly. “This is your bedroom for the duration.”
Her thoughts must have been obvious, judging from the way he laughed.
“No, I’m not going to force you to sleep with me,” he said. “I’m hoping you’ll invite me to your bed of your own free will. Why don’t you take a shower and wake up a little more? I’ll bring your clothes in shortly.”
Pride watched as he went swiftly out, closing the door behind him. The moment he disappeared, she leaped up and ran to the head, where she lost her coffee and her breakfast.
She rinsed her mouth and washed her face while she reviewed everything she had eaten the day before. Nothing struck her as suspicious, but who knew these days? On the other hand, maybe she had the twenty-four-hour virus. If she had a virus, Flynn would have no choice but to return her to shore.
She lay down on the bed and monitored the state of her stomach closely, but the nausea seemed to have eased, so Pride arose and looked around the luxurious bedroom. The room was ringed with short curtains which covered the portholes. She pulled them aside until she located a porthole and peered out. All she could see was the opposite side of the dock, where nothing was going on at the moment. She returned to the head and turned on the shower.
While she stood beneath the warm spray, the boat began to vibrate as the powerful motor switched on. By the time she got out of the shower, Flynn would probably have her almost a mile or two out in the Gulf of Mexico.
She took her time in the shower.
When she emerged from the head, a grand total of four plastic sacks had appeared on the bed. Pride unpacked them, conscious of feeling like a child tearing into a present.
Flynn had apparently gone out the night before and bought every item of clothing he thought she’d need for a stay on the boat. Even the underwear was in perfect taste, and, she noted, in the correct sizes.
She had two swimsuits, one a blue tank suit, and the other, a hot pink bikini. She could choose among shorts, blouses and trousers. He’d even included shoes, from flip-flops to a pair of the latest, high-tech deck shoes.
She chose a pair of white shorts and a colorful, striped blouse, and tied on the deck shoes. They all fit perfectly, a testimonial to Flynn’s observational powers.
When he cared to use them
, she added, reminding herself that he had missed identifying Johnny for a couple of days.
Her purse, laptop tote and her newspaper lay on the bed also. Pride automatically stowed the purse in a drawer and placed the newspaper on one of the bedside tables. She made short work of unpacking the sacks into the drawers and the wonderful, walk-in locker.
In fact, she told herself as she brushed out her hair, there was only one thing Flynn had forgotten.
“There’s only one thing you forgot,” she said, straight-faced, after climbing up to join Flynn in the cockpit where Flynn steered a careful course from the yacht basin toward the open Gulf of Mexico.
He lifted his sunglasses to eye her trim figure, grinning. “What’s that?”
“Makeup.”
“Try the medicine cabinet in the head,” Flynn said, equally straight-faced.
It was too much. Pride rose from the chair she’d taken beside Flynn’s helm chair and climbed back down.
In her stateroom, she went to the head and opened the medicine cabinet. Sure enough, he’d stocked it with the brand of makeup she’d been fond of three years ago. There was even a bottle of the perfume that had been his favorite.
Pride made use of the supplies and returned to the navigation station. Makeup went a long way toward making a woman feel able to face a difficult situation.
She glanced around, trying to estimate their distance from the shore.
“We’re about a mile out,” Flynn said. “With a motor yacht, I don’t have the right-of-way anymore.”
“Great. I should be able to swim to shore.”
“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, looking hurt. “Have you looked in the refrigerator? We’ve got enough food for an army. You’re going to cook me one of your fantastic on-board lunches.”
“Flynn, it’s time you understood something.”
“What’s that?” His glance was innocent in the extreme.
“I have been kidnapped onto this boat. I did not come aboard of my own free will. Therefore, I refuse to cook.”