Part 9 (1/2)

”Hey!”

”Oh, don't let your ego get out of control. I'm talking about my coming down here. The contest-not... not... ” She swept her hands toward the bed. ”Not this. This was great. Although I was stupid to have come here tonight. Equally stupid for falling for that slick charm of yours.”

Jack snorted as he stiffened defensively. ”I'm glad I rose to meet your expectations in at least one area.”

”Exceeded them, actually. But I should never have come here. What would it look like for one of the contest sponsors to be s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g one of the contestants? I should just call this whole thing off and take my punishment for having ever instigated this mess!”

Jack grabbed the towel he'd been wearing when he first saw her and wrapped it about his waist. ”Where are you goin'?”

”Back to my cabin! Maybe I'll give myself a facial, take up smoking. Anything's better than feeling rotten.”

”Wait a minute. I'll walk you back to your cabin.”

”You'll do no such thing! I don't want anybody seeing us together with you dressed like that! What if your grandmother were to see us?”

”Mimi knows I'm not celibate.”

”Well, she doesn't know anything about me, and I don't want her getting the wrong impression.”

Jack's fingers clenched and unclenched as he tried to reason with her.

”You got b.a.l.l.s, lady. You come down here and bully me into entering this contest of yours, and then you become bashful at the thought that mah grandmere or the other campers would think we had s.e.x? Why does everything always have to be on your terms?”

”I don't know what you're talking about.”

”Yes, you do. You think it's okay for you to write about... canoeing, for one thing, even though you've never done it.”

”So take me canoeing!” She turned to stare at him. ”For Pete's sake, take me!”

”That a challenge?”

”Sure. If you can take it, so can I. Turnabout is fair play-that's what you're wanting, isn't it?”

”I had no expectations from you-you're the one with the expectations.”

”Really? Then why is it you keep throwing it up in my face that I've written some d.a.m.ned piece about the river yet never been on it? Maybe I'm volunteering to go because I just want to shut you up!”

Marilyn fought the tears that threatened to fall. Twenty-four hours ago, she'd have agreed with him, that she was expecting a lot from him without ever having met him. But now, all she wanted to was to reach a solid footing with him. To give as much as she got. To get to know him better.

But he had to spoil things by putting her on the defensive. And all she'd wanted to tell him was that she wanted to be near him. Well...and that that she couldn't sleep with him anymore until after the contest. Not if she was to be a part of the contest in any capacity. Especially with her father or her uncle visiting and possibly seeing them together.

But no. He obviously didn't want her with him. Probably didn't trust her as much as he trusted Chuck to get him through the contest.

”Okay. I'll take you down the river tomorrow morning.”

”Morning?”

”Sure. We'll get an early start before the heat sets in. Have your swimsuit and river clothes on, and I'll meet you outside about six. If you think you can haul your city b.u.t.t outta bed that early.”

”Fine.” She met his gaze with a smirk.

”Fine.”

”Fine!” she shouted as she turned to leave.

”And don't slam that... ”

Bam!

”...door.”

Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering just what he'd said to p.i.s.s her off to the point that she'd leave his bed in the middle of the night.

Then he leaned against the pillows, his arms crossed behind his head. He liked this one... really, really liked her. How long should he prolong her discomfort, letting her believe they were all royally f.u.c.ked? Granted, his repertoire of cooking talents was limited, but he could bail them out of this if he set his mind to it. He just wasn't sure he wanted to at this point.

Chapter Ten.

Homemade Moisturizer Ingredients: 1 tablespoon lavender essential oil 5 tablespoons vegetable glycerine 1 cup distilled water Shake in a small spritzer and apply.

Marilyn sat on her patio wrapped in a lightweight blanket, a cheesy smile creasing her face.

Let the arrogant Jackson Delacroix think she didn't know how to canoe. What he didn 't know was that she was an expert at kayaking and almost equally adept at canoeing. Since she was twelve years old, she'd rowed innumerable miles across an inlet of the Atlantic where she'd lived on the East Coast. So while a canoe and a kayak were two different animals, she couldn't wait to see Jackson's smug smile disappear into the river as she flipped the canoe with him in it and gave him a soaking. Even though she'd soak herself as well, even if she managed to roll the canoe while remaining inside it, just the thought of giving Jackson his comeuppance tickled her funny bone.

Too bad he'd most likely call off their day's adventure since it was raining.

Her ringing cell phone inside reminded her that she hadn't spoken with her father since arriving in Oklahoma.

”You're up early,” she said into the phone.

”Couldn't sleep,” came Sam O'Malley's gruff reply. ”Your uncle and I thought we'd see how things were moving at your end.”

Marilyn bit back a laugh before answering. ”Oh, my...end...has been moving just fine, Daddy.” She quickly updated him, leaving out specific details.

”So are you impressed with our author?” he asked.

”Immensely. He's quite... talented. Very charming.”

”Handsome?”

”Very. But don't go there.”

”Hmph. I've seen the way you study the photos on his jacket copies. At least Colette is there to keep an eye on you.”

Marilyn closed her eyes, counting to ten as her father reverted to treating her as though she were still a kid.