Part 8 (1/2)

Chapter Three

Sam looked at that perfect porcelain-doll face, smiling up at him with lips that cried out to be kissed and eyes that challenged, despite something naked in their depths, and felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach. This girl was uncomfortably beautiful. And she was a h.e.l.luva lot sharper than he'd given her credit for, even if he was still certain she was former debutante material.

But hey, she wanted slumming, he could give her slumming. And maybe be entertained in return. After all, any woman who would be in a position to have her dress stolen by a dog had to have some wildness in her.

The clams arrived, and they feasted, then had another round of drinks. She was looking just the slightest bit tipsy when she held up a hand, and said, ”Enough. I can't consume another bite or take another sip of anything. Except maybe some water.”

Sam ordered a couple of waters.

”So what do you do up here?” Gray asked him, her eyes glowing in the dim bar light. ”If you're not just 'summering.'”

She gave him a saucy look, and he marveled at the flawless ness of her features. Strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and trailed next to her face, framing it as if planned for a photo shoot. One of the longer tendrils caressed the slender column of her neck, and he reached a finger up to touch it, felt the softness of her skin. A corresponding heat filled his core.

”I'll tell you what I'd like to do,” he said. ”I'd like to take your picture. Right here, right now, just the way you are.”

Unplanned perfection, that was what she radiated.

He was unprepared for her burst of laughter. ”Oh my, that's almost as good a line as your first one!”

He took back his hand and put it in his pocket. ”My first-?”

”'What's a nice girl like you...?'” She dissolved into laughter.

He couldn't help smiling with her. She was tipsy, no doubt about it. ”Now who's judging whom?”

She reached a hand up to touch his cheek and sobered, looking deeply into his eyes. Sam swallowed as the blood stalled in his veins.

In a low, fake accent, she asked, ”Would you care to look at my etchings?” She fell into laughter again.

This time he couldn't stop himself. He took her hand from his face, held it tightly in his, and leaned toward her, his lips capturing hers.

In the time they had eaten, the bar had filled with people, and the music had grown correspondingly louder as the night had worn on. But Sam hadn't noticed. And now, as Gray's lips opened under his, the whole place could have blown away around them, and he wouldn't have known the difference.

She leaned toward him, which surprised him, and one hand grasped the front of his tee s.h.i.+rt. He stepped into her, the barstool hitting him in the thighs, and ran a hand around her back. His fingers felt the trim curve of her waist and tightened around it.

After a second he pulled back and looked into her pale blue eyes, pupils huge in the dim bar. ”Want to get out of here?”

For a moment she appeared suspended in time. Her lips glistened from his kiss, and she gazed up at him as if momentarily stunned. Then the corners of her mouth curved, and she dropped her head. A second later she put a hand to her mouth, and he realized she was laughing.

”Sorry! Sorry!” She looked up through her lashes at him, eyes alive with mirth.

”Let me guess. Another cliche you've heard a thousand times.” He tilted his head and looked at her, at once amused and mildly embarra.s.sed.

”'Want to get out of here?'” she repeated. ”'What do you say we get some air?' 'How about we go someplace more comfortable?' 'Did I tell you I have all of Sinatra's alb.u.ms on vinyl?'” She giggled again.

”Okay. How about, Let's blow this pop stand. Whaddya say, Gidge?”

”Much better!” She beamed and stood up, her body lengthening along his in the crowded s.p.a.ce. Her barstool tipped over behind her but was righted by someone who immediately occupied it. She fumbled on the bar for her little purse and grabbed his arm hard enough to make him totter. ”Okay, Moondoggie, let's go.”

They went up the stairs and out into the star-flung night. It was so much darker there than at home, Gray noticed, and the air smelled heavily of sea salt, tinged faintly with decaying fish. She breathed deeply as the breeze lifted the hair from her neck.

She felt good, she realized. More relaxed than she'd been in years. Of course, she'd had a little more to drink than she'd intended, but so what. She was of age.

”'I'm just mad about Saffron,'” Sam sang under his breath, ”'Saffron's mad about me...'”

Gray laughed and looked up at her companion as they headed toward the harbor. Sam's long-legged steps were easy beside hers, and she envied the way he seemed so at home in his own skin. Casual, yet in control at the same time.

Interesting, she thought. And interesting that she was there beside him. She, Gray Gilliam, who never went out on a date without first getting a resume and references on whoever the lucky man happened to be, was walking beside some guy named Sam she had met in a bar.

On the heels of that thought she realized that she had done it. She had done the gutsy thing. She had come to a place that was outside her comfort zone, met a guy who was totally not her type, and had managed to come out of it feeling more like herself than ever before.

She tucked her purse under her arm and pushed her hands into her pockets, glancing at Sam again from the corner of her eyes. He was definitely not the type of guy she would fall for. He was challenging and lively and a little bit unkempt. She'd had to be tough and on her toes as never before just to talk to him. But she'd done it! She'd verbally sparred with him, and she had not come out feeling like a ninny. Instead, she felt triumphant. Gutsy! Gutsy!

She inhaled deeply again and turned slowly around in a circle as she walked, looking up at the stars. From the harbor came the clink of riggings against masts and the soft splash of water on rocking hulls.

”Oh I could just drink this air in forever. Isn't it wonderful?” She beamed up at him.

He looked down at her, his eyes crinkling with his smile, and she thought what a pity it was he wasn't her type.

”It's d.a.m.n near perfect,” he agreed, but his grin was ironic.

She shook her head. ”Too bad you don't really appreciate it.”

”What do you mean? I'm the one who may actually end up drinking this air forever.” He half faced her as they walked. ”You're only drinking it for the summer, remember?”

She liked the way he did that, the way his shoulders angled toward her as he talked. He really did have an innate kind of polish, perhaps even some chivalry. He had, after all, bought her dinner and ordered water after they'd had those drinks. She caught herself staring at him a moment too long and looked down the street.

”That's true,” she said, opting not to tell him of her tentative plans to stay. ”So maybe you just take it for granted.” She shrugged, fearing she was losing the energy to keep up with his banter. She was, after all, a beginner.

A corner of his mouth lifted. ”That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?”

”According to you, that's what we do, isn't it? Judge each other all the time?” She lifted a brow in his direction and was gratified to hear him laugh.

He had a terrific laugh.

She could notice things like that, she reasoned, despite the fact that she would never fall for him. She could appreciate his appeal. His gait, for instance. It was agile and aloof, like a Thoroughbred that could take off at any moment with great speed, even though at the moment he was simply walking along beside her. She wouldn't want to be the one with her hands constantly on the reins, however. She had the feeling she'd end up with leather burn.

”It must be wonderful living here all the time.” She sighed, impulsively linking her arm through his. ”It's so...free.”

She heard him chuckle and turned to look up at him.

”That might be the person, more than the place.” Sam squeezed her arm gently with his own. ”You seem to be getting into the swing of your summer vacation pretty well.”

Gray shook her head. ”No, it's the place. I've taken vacations at other places and never felt like this. Like I've shed something heavy I've been carrying for a long time.”