That Carolina Summer (North Carolina) (13 page)

“Is that right?” He turned to her, the arm leaving his knee to curve behind the middle of her back and pull her to him. He stopped when her swimsuit-covered breasts brushed against his chest. “Would you be interested in having my baby?” He asked the question against her lips and let them answer him by surrendering to the possession of his.

Love seemed to create an explosion of light inside her, spraying its brightness through every corner of her body. She wasn't conscious of Josh lowering her shoulders to the sand while he leaned over her to keep the intimate linkage of the kiss. She was dazed and aching when he dragged his mouth from hers. Dimly she heard the laughter and shouts of other bathers on the beach.

“I swear you are a witch,” Josh accused her on a disturbed note.

“If I am, you must be a warlock,” she murmured, because she knew how strong the spell had been, blocking out their surroundings—everything.

“We'll have dinner in my suite tonight,” he stated.

For once, Annette didn't object to her lack of option. She simply nodded a silent acknowledgment of his plans. His gaze darkened at the movement, then he was letting her go to sit up.

“I think I'd better see what Robby is doing,” Josh suggested dryly, indicating his awareness that the situation between them had grown too intense.

THERE WERE WITNESSES to the kiss other than the uninterested bathers on the beach. Poised on the steps overlooking the stretch of sand, Jordan Long stood watching. The line of his jaw and mouth was hard as iron. His gray eyes had darkened to a charcoal blackness. Kathleen and Marsha were on either side of him. Marsha was eyeing him with apprehension while Kathleen viewed him with resigned tolerance.

He pivoted away from the scene. “Come on,” he instructed them to accompany him. “We're going to our rooms."

“I thought we were going to let Annette know that we were back,” Kathleen said, reminding him of their purpose in coming to the beach area.

“Not right now we're not. I'm liable to kill him with my bare hands.” Jordan was rigid with parental outrage. “Did you see the way he kissed her?” he demanded.” Right out there in public!"

“Jordan,” Kathleen attempted to reason with him patiently as they started toward their rooms, while Marsha trailed behind, out of range of her father's temper. “You have kissed me on a public beach before."

“Yes, I did! And you know damn well what I suggested afterward, too!” he reminded her with angry force.

“You are a hypocrite, Jordan.” Kathleen couldn't help smiling at his indignation, although she tried not to let it show. “You want your daughters to do as you say, not as you do."

He stopped to confront her, his temper not improved by the glimmer of a smile in her expression. “I suppose you think I'm wrong,” he challenged, “because I don't want my daughter seduced by some playboy."

“It isn't a question of whether you are right or wrong for being upset,” she reasoned. “Annette is twenty years old now. There are some decisions you can't make for her anymore. It's time you started trusting her to make the right ones for herself."

“Trust Annette?” Jordan scoffed. “That girl gets herself into more trouble on purpose than most girls do accidentally. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't have some hare-brained scheme in mind right now. That worries me almost more than Joshua Lord does!"

“You're just guessing that she might.” But Kathleen didn't deny the possibility.

Jordan swung his head around to pin Marsha with a look. She had been trying to be unobtrusive, but he hadn't forgotten she was there.

“What do you know about what's going on?” he demanded, aware that his younger daughter found it impossible to conceal anything for long, especially without Annette around to bolster her.

“Nothing like what you're thinking,” she answered nervously.

His eyes narrowed. “And what am I thinking?"

“I don't know.” She refused to speculate, but she did add an explanation of her remark. “I just meant that Annette and Josh haven't done anything.” When her father continued to regard her narrowly, Marsha forced herself to be more explicit. “He hasn't made love to her or anything like that."

“I should hope not!” The words fairly exploded from him. Then he tempered his voice to a less furious level. “Just exactly what has Annette told you about Joshua Lord?"

Marsha shifted uncomfortably and tried to avoid an answer before she settled for one she thought might mollify him. “She says she loves him."

“God, no.” He muttered the words and lifted his gaze heavenward.

“Jordan, don't you think you're overreacting?” Kathleen was beginning to get a little irritated with him. “Annette was bound to fall in love sometime. And I don't think she made a bad choice when she picked Joshua Lord to be that man."

“So far he hasn't proved it to me,” he retorted.

“He doesn't have to prove it to you!” Some of her auburn temper was letting itself be heard.

“That's where you're wrong!” Jordan snapped. “I intend to put a stop to this little affair before it goes any further!"

In the next second he was striding away, leaving Kathleen and Marsha standing on the sidewalk. Marsha looked worried when she met her stepmother's glance. Kathleen let out her anger in a long sigh.

“He's really upset, isn't he?” Marsha grimaced. “He shouldn't have taken it out on you."

“Yes, he should,” Kathleen smiled briefly. “Being a sounding board is also part of loving, although it isn't much fun. We are bound to disagree on occasions. This happens to be one of them, but it doesn't mean we love each other less because of it."

Reassured by Kathleen that no damage had been done, Marsha allowed a faint smile to appear. “I know you're right. I guess it's just that you and Dad are always so happy together that it's a surprise to hear you argue."

“Shall we go to our room?” Kathleen suggested.

“Yes,” Marsha agreed, and fell in step with her. “What do you suppose Dad's going to do?"

“I have no idea,” Kathleen admitted. “After he's calmed down, I'll talk to him again. I'm sure he'll listen to reason."

Marsha wasn't. Her father and Annette were a lot alike in that respect.

IN THE LATE AFTERNOON, Annette breezed into the hotel room. She had on a hooded caftan designed for beachwear. It added to her long leggy look.

“Hi.” She smiled the airy greeting at Marsha, “Kathleen said you got back over an hour ago. Why didn't you let me know?” She didn't wait for an answer, rushing another question after the first. “What all did you buy?"

“Just a pair of slacks. They're hanging up in the closet,” she said, and watched Annette with a guarded look. “When did you talk to Kathleen?"

“Just a couple of minutes ago.” Annette walked to the closet to see Marsha's purchase. “I took Robby to his room to give him a bath and get him cleaned up before you guys got back. When I walked in with him, there were Dad and Kathleen.” She took out the hanger with the new slacks on it. “Hey, these are nice. Blue, of course. Your wardrobe is getting in a rut, Marsha."

Marsha picked at a loose thread in the bedspread. “Did Dad say anything?"

“No.” Annette glanced in her direction, suddenly noticing her sister's guarded attitude. “Why?"

“I just wondered.” Marsha shrugged with too much indifference.

Annette knew there was something more to it than that. “What did you expect him to say to me?"

“Nothing,” Marsha insisted.

“There must have been something or you wouldn't have asked,” Annette persisted. “Now, what is it?"

“It's just that ... we did go to the beach to let you know we were back early,” she explained unwillingly.

Annette frowned. “But I didn't see you."

“No, but we saw you.” Marsha paused and sighed. “Or rather, we saw Josh kiss you.” Annette lifted her head a fraction of an inch, like an animal scenting trouble. “Dad was furious. That's why I thought he might have said something to you."

“He didn't.” And she wondered why not.

“I guess Kathleen talked to him. She said she was going to ... after he cooled down.” Marsha offered that as an explanation.

“Maybe,” she conceded, and removed the caftan by pulling it over her head. “I just don't understand why Dad doesn't like Josh. He barely knows him."

“I think Dad believes you barely know him,” her sister pointed out.

“Well, he's wrong.” She hung the caftan up in the closet and began sorting through her clothes. “You should have seen Josh today with Robby. What do you think I should wear tonight?"

“Are you going out?” The minute she asked it, the question seemed totally ridiculous.

“Yes, I'm having dinner with Josh.” Annette was careful not to mention where. “He's seen me in just about everything."

“Why don't you wear my blue silk dress?” Marsha suggested.

Annette turned, her face lighting up, but she didn't accept immediately. “Are you sure you don't mind? It's your favorite."

“No, go ahead,” she insisted. “You'll look terrific in it."

“Thanks."

Reaching in the closet, she took out the azure-colored dress and carried it to the dresser mirror. She held the waistline against her bathing suit to see how it would look on her. Marsha was right. It was terrific—the fabric, the color, the style.

“Oh, Marsha, it's gorgeous,” Annette breathed. “Thanks for letting me wear it. I promise I'll do the same for you anytime.” Her expression became affectionate and thoughtful. “We may not be much alike for sisters, but you always come through when I need you."

“What are sisters for?” Marsha grinned.

Chapter Eight

ANNETTE WAITED until her family had gone to dinner before she left the room to walk to Josh's suite. Her stride was light and free. She could have been walking on air for all the notice she paid to the ground. It was a perfect July night—a soft breeze blowing in from the sea, night birds singing in the trees and a gorgeous sunset bleeding the sky with reds and oranges. She laughed aloud when she discovered she was humming to herself.

Arriving at the door to his suite, she knocked twice and waited, but not for long. She heard the approach of his footsteps and the turn of the lock before it was pulled open. Her bright gray eyes swept over him.

His white silk-like shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, contrasting sharply with the bronze tan and hairy-rough texture of his skin. The cuffs of the sleeves were rolled back to reveal his forearms. Dark slacks were loosely molded to his slim hips.

The lazy half smile on his mouth disarmed her. “Right on time,” Josh observed, and reached out to take her hand, inviting her in.

His suite was a self-contained apartment, complete with a living room, a dining area overlooking the bay, a kitchen and—naturally—a bedroom. Annette could see this last through an opened doorway.

The thick gold draperies were pulled to let the vibrant colors of the sunset spill into the suite. The white linen on the table reflected the scarier hues of the setting sun. The table was set for two, polished silver shining and crystal goblets glittering. In the middle, a matched set of silver holders supported a pair of slim blue candles.

“I thought we'd eat later—after the sun goes down,” Josh said, following the direction of her gaze.

“I agree. It would be a shame not to use the candles.” And sunlight didn't seem nearly as romantic as candlelight, but Annette didn't feel she needed to say that.

“In the meantime we can have some champagne.” Josh led her by the hand into the living room. “This time it will be properly chilled,” he added, obliquely referring to the tepid wine they'd drunk on the beach.

Releasing her hand, he lifted the bottle out of the bucket of ice on the coffee table. A pair of wine glasses sat on a tray. Annette picked them up while Josh attempted to work the cork out of the bottle. It defied him at first, then the pressure inside shot the cork into the air, ricocheting it off the ceiling. Frothy wine bubbled from the neck. Annette quickly held out a glass to catch the overflow.

“Aren't you lucky I was prepared?” she laughed. By some miracle not a drop was spilled.

“I knew you would be,” Josh replied, and set the bottle deep in the nest of ice. Facing her, he touched the rim of his wineglass to hers, the fine crystal making a tinkling chime at the light contact. “To the rest of the evening,” he toasted softly.

“To the rest of the evening,” Annette murmured, and carried the glass to her lips, sipping the sparkling wine and holding his gaze over the clear rim. The bubbles tickled her throat. She had to cover her mouth to contain a choking cough, trying to laugh at her predicament. “I knew those bubbles would get me someday,” she said hoarsely, when she was able to talk again. “But I always thought I would embarrass myself by sneezing."

“I can't imagine anything embarrassing you,” Josh replied.

“It takes a lot,” she admitted in a more natural voice.

“Come on.” He slipped an arm around her waist. “Let's sit on the couch."

Skirting the coffee table in front of it, Josh guided her to the sofa cushions. When they were both seated, his arm was around her shoulders, curving her to his side. His body heat warmed her skin, sensitizing her nerve ends to the solid feel of his flesh.