Nathaniel wouldn’t flirt with his bride. Or would he? Had he come up with some bizarre plan to prove she was opportunistic?
He glanced at them again.
“You’re as bad as she is,” said Katie, digging her elbow into his ribs.
“Huh?”
“You can’t keep your hands off each other.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Had Emma actually told her they’d made love?
Katie waved a hand. “Give it up, Alex. You’re not fooling anybody.”
His heart thudded heavily in his chest. Katie knew they’d made love. Had she guessed how he felt?
He didn’t even know how he felt.
He had to throw her off track. He carefully arranged his features and shrugged, feigning unconcern. “You know the score.” He waited. “That thing on the cruise ship was…you know, just a thing.”
Katie drew back, confusion on her face. “What thing on the cruise ship?”
Alex cursed himself and scrambled for a recovery. “We…had a fight.”
“You two have fights all the time. One more would definitely not be memorable.” Katie peered suspiciously into his eyes. “What happened on the cruise ship?”
“Nothing.”
He knew the exact second comprehension hit her. “Oh my God.”
“It’s not-”
“And she didn’t tell me? I’m going to kill her.”
“No!” His arms reflexively tightened around Katie. “Don’t you say a word.”
“Why didn’t she tell me? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
Alex could have kicked himself. “Back off, Katie. She’s had a tough day.”
“There’s only one reason she wouldn’t tell me,” Katie muttered to herself, her feet tangling over the dance steps so that Alex had to recover for both of them.
“Because she regrets it,” he said. She was afraid he would hurt her. And he might still. But then she might hurt him right back.
It was a chance they’d both have to take. They needed to work it out together. And alone.
Katie was shaking her head. “No, that can’t be the reason.”
He steered Katie toward Emma and Nathaniel.
She resisted his pressure. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not dumping me with him again.”
Alex sure as hell was. “He’s your official escort.”
“He’s my inquisitor.”
“Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t say anything to Emma about the cruise. It was a mistake. We both made a mistake.”
Katie opened her mouth. But then she closed it again and nodded.
“Nate,” said Alex.
Nathaniel glanced up and gave him a cocky, knowing grin. “Need your girl back?”
“I’m sure she’s had enough of you.”
“Why don’t we ask her?”
But Alex latched on to Emma’s arm, forcing Nathaniel to let go of her.
“Ahhh,” said Nathaniel, staring down at his returning partner. “The charming Katie. Where were we?”
“Let me save you some time,” she said, adjusting her arm to keep a careful distance from him. “No. None of your business. And when hell freezes over.”
Despite her efforts, Nathaniel dragged her closer, his voice fading as they spun away. “You know, you really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Emma blinked up at Alex. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t think Nathaniel likes David.”
She moved into step with him. “Well, neither do you.”
Alex grunted. “That’s because he’s hiding behind Katie’s skirts.”
Emma punctuated her opinion with an exasperated sigh. “He’s got an MBA. And he’s a respected project manager.”
“Then why’s he hiding behind Katie’s skirts? Why not make something of himself?”
“I’m way too tired to have this fight.”
Alex felt like a heel. “Sorry.”
“Hey, will you look at that.”
“At what?”
Emma nodded across the floor. “Philippe is dancing with Mrs. Nash.”
Alex followed the direction of her nod. Sure enough. And they were laughing about something.
“I guess they finally found some common ground,” he said.
“That’s good to see.” Emma settled back in. “So what time is our flight to Kayven?”
“Whenever we want to go.”
“You haven’t booked the tickets yet?”
Alex smiled as he shook his head. “We don’t need tickets. I have a plane.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and she closed her eyes. “Naturally you have a plane.” Then she rested her cheek against his chest, just the way he liked it. “And I’m not going to complain about that one either.”
He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I have to say, I really like your attitude.”
“Don’t get too used to it. All I need is a good night’s sleep.”
Ten
Alex was a perfect gentleman all the way to Kayven Island.
They’d stopped in L.A. for a late dinner. After which, Emma had had a surprisingly restful sleep across the Pacific, arriving at the local Kayven airstrip in the early morning hours.
Partway between Hawaii and Fiji, the island boasted white sand beaches, world-class reefs and turquoise seas dotted with brightly colored sailboats. The McKinley Resort consisted of a main building with traditional hotel rooms, an open-air lounge and a restaurant, along with several dozen bungalows scattered between towering palm trees.
Emma and Alex’s bungalow opened onto a wide, covered patio with three steps down to the beach.
They quickly discovered their PalmPilots didn’t work. Neither did their cell phones. Internet service was only available in the main building, and it was intermittent at best.
So, after an open-air breakfast of pastries and tropical fruit, Alex declared they should chuck their business obligations and rent a catamaran for the day. Inspired by the salt breeze and laid-back atmosphere of the island, Emma wasn’t inclined to argue.
So, at 10:00 a.m., along about the time she usually attended her senior staff meeting, she was dressed in a lilac bikini, skimming over the waves of the South Pacific, the breeze in her hair and the salt spray dampening her skin.
“Dolphins,” Alex called from the stern, and she twisted on the pontoon seat to see a dozen dorsal fins cutting through the green water.
“How do you know they’re not sharks?” For the first time since leaving the dock, Emma cast a suspicious glance at the clear water below her.
Alex pulled the tiller. “Let’s take a closer look.”
“No!” she squealed. What did Alex know about sharks and dolphins? He’d spent his entire life in a city center just like her.
He laughed. “Chicken.”
“I like my legs, thank you very much.”
“They’re dolphins.”
“No offense, but you’re hardly an expert.”
He corrected their course to follow the towering cliffs of the shoreline. After a set of rudimentary instructions on sailing the two person catamaran, the man at the rental shop had provided a map to a snorkeling beach and one of the islands scenic coral reefs.
“I’ve watched the Discovery Channel,” said Alex, his tone tinged with mock offense.
“I rest my case.”
“You’ve got to learn to trust me on something.”
“I’m letting you drive, aren’t I?”
“Letting me?”
She whooped as they crested a particularly big wave, then sang out, “My turn on the way back.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hey, Alex. You’ve got to learn to trust me on something.”
“You can decorate the main floor.”
“The main floor of what?”
“Of my house.”
She turned to stare at him. “We’re decorating your house.”
He stared out over the waves, and she had to fight to keep from ogling his wet, tanned body. His calves were sculpted with muscle, and his pecs were something out of a beach-boy magazine. His face was handsome as ever, but the rakish swirl of his windblown hair left him looking softer, less intimidating than he had in NewYork.