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That Carolina Summer (North Carolina) Page 6


  “Did Craig tell you that?” Josh mocked.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Before or after he kissed you?” he challenged with a trace of harshness.

  “As a matter of fact, it was after. You saw it, did you?” she murmured, her gray eyes eagerly watching every nuance of his expression.

  “When a couple kiss on a public beach, someone is likely to see them,” he pointed out.

  “I think Craig saw you,” Annette surmised. “Which explains why he left so soon after that. He probably thought he'd get in trouble."

  “I have a hunch that you spell trouble for just about every man who comes in contact with you,” John said.

  A faint smile touched her mouth. “Including you, Josh?"

  “Yes, including me,” he admitted dryly, an amused light gleaming in his dark eyes.

  Her movement seemed to be idly directed, but it brought her a little closer to him. She tipped her head back slightly to regard him with curious speculation. Her pulse raced a little under his steady gaze.

  “You strike me as the kind of man who never does anything he doesn't want to do. The other afternoon, when you kissed me...” Annette paused a second, “Was it what you wanted to do?"

  “You know damn well it was.” There was a lazy curve to his mouth, as if he were silently laughing.

  “I wasn't sure,” she replied with a mild shrug, but a thread of excitement was running through her veins.

  “Weren't you?” he challenged huskily.

  Then his hand was under her chin, as it had been that afternoon, but it didn't stay there long. It slid along her neck to tunnel under her hair while it urged her toward him. Annette needed little persuasion, flowing naturally into his arms.

  His mouth burned on hers, erasing any remaining trace of Craig's kiss. His possession bore no resemblance to the chaste kiss of the other afternoon. Josh allowed for no innocence as he plundered, the softness of her lips, taking them with a sexual appetite that left her in no doubt of his hunger.

  The heat of his body enveloped her completely with languid warmth. His roaming hands pressed her curves to the hard contours of his length, awakening her flesh to their differences and stimulating it. Annette was reeling from the upheaval his kiss was creating within her system. This rawly sensual embrace was shaking her to the core, disrupting her preconceived thoughts of what it should be like. It was all so shockingly new that she didn't know what she was thinking or feeling. Nothing was as she expected it to be.

  When Josh dragged his mouth from her lips, it moistly grazed a path to her neck. Dazed into submission, she turned her head aside to allow him access to the quivering pulse in her throat. Her fingers were curled in the material of his shirt for support, her knees weak and trembling.

  “I must be out of my mind,” he muttered harshly against her skin. “You're just a child. You're not even of legal age yet."

  “Would you feel better if I told you I have a birthday coming up in two days?” Annette whispered, afraid that he would stop whatever it was that he was doing to her—and afraid that he would continue.

  “No, it wouldn't.” His hands abruptly gripped her shoulders and held her away from him. A mixed anger blazed darkly in his eyes. “Didn't anybody teach you that it's dangerous to play with fire?"

  “Yes.” Her head moved in a small nod.

  “Then you ought to know you can't always put it out when you want to,” Josh stated grimly.

  “I know,” she admitted, not liking the way he was treating her like a child when, in fact, she wasn't one. At the moment, it was immaterial that he didn't know it.

  “Do you?” he challenged. “To you, a kiss is one step beyond holding hands. But to me, it's one step away from the bed! That's where this one will lead, you know.” His gaze narrowed on the warmth that flooded her cheeks. “No, you don't know, do you?"

  “Josh, I—” Annette wanted to change the subject, suddenly unable to handle the topic of sex.

  “You thought it would be exciting and a little dangerous to flirt with an older man,” he accused roughly. “It made you feel a little wicked to tease me and tempt me with your little Lolita act."

  “That isn't true!” she protested angrily, but Josh wasn't listening.

  “I've outgrown doctor games. If you want to play ‘touchy-feely,’ go find your blond Adonis.” He turned her away and aimed her toward the dock, propelling her forward by his hard grip above her elbow. “He's probably still in that stage."

  His blazing anger only aroused hers. When he released her to adjust the gangplank so she could disembark, it burned her throat raw and stung her eyes with hot tears.

  As Josh faced her again to escort her from the boat, Annette glared at him proudly. “I am not a child."

  His features were drawn in a hard mask as his gaze bored into her, then swept past her to shore. “No? I have a hunch that's daddy looking this way,” he murmured on a slightly sarcastic note.

  Annette jerked her head around to look, instantly spying her father and Kathleen on the beach with Robby. There was no mistake that her father was looking their way with narrowing interest.

  “If he knew what you were up to,” Josh said, “he'd take you over his knee and spank you. Which is precisely what you need!"

  “Maybe I'm into spankings!” Annette flashed, and turned to cross the gangplank to the dock, her carriage stiff with pride. But she didn't turn quickly enough to miss seeing the ridge of his jaw go white with anger.

  There was a small degree of satisfaction in the knowledge that he was infuriated. But all his references to her as a child continued to sting. She would enjoy sweet revenge when Josh found out how old she really was. In her anger, Annette didn't remember that age wasn't the only issue. There was still the matter of her sexual inexperience, which the number of her years didn't change.

  As she walked off the dock onto the beach, Annette fought to secure her poise. At this juncture, she didn't want her father suspecting that anything unusual had happened aboard the boat. Like Josh, he wasn't an easy man to fool. She would need all her wits about her to keep his suspicions at bay.

  Unable to postpone this meeting with her father, Annette inhaled calm steadying breaths and willed the constriction in her throat to ease. She blinked at the hot moisture in her eyes and struggled to appear cool and collected as she approached the family group.

  “Well, good morning,” Kathleen greeted her, as if nothing were amiss. “We missed you at breakfast."

  “Would you help me build a sand castle, Annette?” Robby had dug a trench in the sand with his shovel, making the initial inroads for a moat. “Mom isn't very good at them."

  “Thanks a lot, fella!” Kathleen laughed at the criticism.

  “Sure. After a while, okay?” Annette promised her little brother, aware of shrewd gray eyes watching her closely.

  “Where have you been, Annette?” her father asked quietly—too quietly for her raw nerves.

  “Out.” But she knew he wouldn't settle for that ambiguous and slightly sassy answer. “For a boat ride,” she answered.

  Robby looked up, disappointment crossing his face. “I want to go for a boat ride. Can I?” he asked. “Will you take me?"

  “Later on we'll rent one of those pedal boats,” Annette suggested in a futile attempt to distract the conversation. “Would you like that?"

  “Boy! Yeah!” he agreed with wide-eyed enthusiasm.

  But her father zeroed back in on the subject. “Who was that man on the boat with you? Do you know him?"

  “Of course I know him,” Annette laughed with pseudobrightness. “You don't think I'd go boat riding with a stranger, do you? He's Joshua Lord. He owns this hotel—as well as the boat."

  “Oh.” His mouth curved in a half-smile as his gray eyes gleamed with curious speculation. “When did you start traveling in such exalted circles?"

  “Oh, Dad, he's only a man, for heaven's sake,” Annette protested.

  “He's a little old for you, don't you t
hink?” he replied.

  She didn't have to fake the mocking laugh that came from her throat. “He said almost the same thing, Dad, except that he turned it around and said I was too young. So I guess you have nothing to worry about.” She lifted her shoulders in an expressive shrug and smiled. Jordan Long offered no comment. Mentally crossing her fingers, Annette hoped the subject was closed. “Where's Marsha?"

  “I think she's still in bed sleeping,” Kathleen replied. “We knocked at the door when we left our rooms, but she didn't answer."

  “She's probably still asleep,” Annette agreed. “She was up until after three o'clock last night—reading a book.” She backed away a step, preparing to make her departure. “I'll go wake her up. We'll join you after we've eaten breakfast."

  “We'll be here on the beach,” Kathleen said.

  As Annette walked away, Kathleen noticed how closely Jordan watched his oldest child. There was a quietness about him that she wasn't used to seeing. She glanced at Annette's disappearing figure, then back to Jordan.

  “Is something wrong, Jordan?” she asked.

  He seemed to drag his gaze away from Annette before meeting her questioning eyes. That mouth she loved so well was twisted in a wryly grim line.

  “Yes,” he answered her question with a simple affirmative.

  “What is it?” Kathleen wanted more of an answer than that. “Annette?"

  “Yes. I didn't like that look in her eyes,” he replied. “She's up to something.” His glance strayed to the boat tied up at the dock. “I have a feeling that ‘something’ is Joshua Lord."

  Kathleen remembered his comment that the man was too old for Annette and guessed the direction of Jordan's concern. “I wouldn't worry about Annette, Jordan. She's much too intelligent to be talked into anything.” A quick smile crossed her mouth. “More than likely, Annette's talking him into something."

  “One of these days she's going to meet her match, Kathleen,” Jordan warned.

  She sat back on her heels. “Chauvinist,” she laughed. “I think you're actually hoping that she does. It bothers you when a woman outsmarts a man, doesn't it?"

  “You come here and I'll show you what bothers me,” he murmured in a suggestive mock threat.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she started to sway toward him. Then Robby reminded her of his presence.

  “Mommy, will you help me? I can't make the walls of my castle stand up,” he complained in a disheartened voice.

  “You're the one with the engineering degree, Jordan,” Kathleen smiled. “Help your son."

  He started to move to comply with her request, then paused to tilt her chin up. “Wrong. It's our son—or have you forgotten it takes two?"

  “Maybe you'll have to refresh my memory,” Kathleen suggested huskily. “Later."

  “You can count on it.” He ran his thumb across her lips and moved away to help Robby.

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Annette took Robby out on one of the pedal boats as she had promised. The bay was filled with families of afternoon sailors in boats of every size and description. She kept their foot-powered boat close to shore, away from the congestion.

  When she saw Josh's boat maneuvering away from the dock, she couldn't help looking. As it drifted slowly by the little cove where she was, Annette saw his guests. One in particular caught her eye. A raven-haired witch in a scarlet swimsuit was draped all over Josh. Annette could well imagine the “business” that woman had in mind.

  She was consumed with jealousy. If she'd been close enough she would have plucked out every black hair on the girl's head, one by one. She hadn't guessed she could feel such a rage—or such pain—at seeing Josh with another woman.

  “Annette, you'd better look where we're going,” Robby admonished. “You nearly ran over a duck."

  She looked to the front and saw the bird taking wing. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  He looked at her. “Are you crying?"

  “No, of course not!” she denied, and blinked at the wetness welling in her gray eyes.

  Chapter Five

  ANNETTE ROLLED the toothpick-speared olive around the martini glass, staring absently at the hypnotic circles. Her dress of silver Chiffon swooped modestly low in the front, showing off the golden tan of her shoulders and arms. The salon's stylist had swept one side of her tawny hair away from her face, adding a touch of sophistication to her features. An artful application of makeup had enhanced the smoke gray of her eyes and the fullness of her dark lashes.

  She was oblivious to her mature appearance, just as she was oblivious to the members of her family seated around the table in the hotel's dining room. There was talk and laughter, but Annette didn't hear any of it. They had gathered to celebrate her birthday, but she didn't feel much like celebrating anything.

  “You've barely touched your martini, Annette.” Her father's voice prodded her into an awareness of them. “Is it too dry?"

  “No, it's fine,” she assured him, and let go of the pick to take a sip of the drink.

  “Do you want to taste my Shirley Temple?” Robby offered. “It's good."

  “No, thanks.” She smiled wanly. “You drink it."

  “Does Annette have to wait until after dinner to open her gifts or can we give them to her now?” Marsha asked eagerly.

  “That's up to Annette,” Kathleen replied.

  “It doesn't matter to me.” Annette indicated her indifference with a slight lift of a shoulder. “Whatever you want to do."

  “Then we'll give them to her now,” Marsha said, deciding for the rest of them. She picked up the gift-wrapped box by her chair.

  Jordan Long eyed Annette quietly. “I think everyone is more eager to give you presents than you are to receive them.” He glanced at his wife and mocked, “Are you sure it's her birthday?"

  “I'm sorry, Dad.” Annette realized she had to summon some enthusiasm for the party, regardless of her personal mood.

  “Open mine first,” Marsha urged.

  Her smile was plastic as she took the box from her sister and began loosening the bright ribbon. Marsha's expression was alive with animation, her blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. Annette couldn't help thinking how beautiful Marsha was when she forgot to be self-conscious.

  “It has to be clothes.” Annette started the guessing game their family always played while opening presents. “I'll bet you bought me something blue—so you can borrow it."

  “Wait and see,” Marsha laughed.

  When she lifted the lid, Annette discovered she had been half-right. A soft summer lilac slacks-and-top set was hidden in folds of tissue. “It's beautiful,” she said, assuring Marsha that she liked the gift, and added a laughing, “And it isn't blue."

  “Now it's my turn,” Robby insisted. “Open mine!"

  Sensitive to his fragile child's ego, Annette went through the full wide-eyed pretense of guessing what was inside the paper-flat package. Robby was giggling wildly at her absurd guesses. He'd drawn her a picture of Wrightsville Beach, complete with the two of them in a pedal boat. Not that Annette recognized either of the stick figures, but Robby pointed them out and identified them for her.

  “I'll hang it up on my bedroom wall when we get home,” she promised. “We'll make a frame and everything for it.” And Robby was certain he had given her the most prized gift of all. He couldn't know the scene contained bittersweet memories.

  “Here.” Her father placed a small gift-wrapped box in front of her. “This is from Kathleen and me."

  “I can hardly wait until you open it,” Marsha murmured anxiously.

  “Do you know what it is?” Annette asked.

  “Yes. Daddy showed it to me,” her sister admitted.

  “Something this small has to mean jewelry.” She glanced at her father, then Kathleen. Both watched her. “It can't be a watch. You gave me one for graduation."

  When she snapped open the jeweler's case, Annette didn't have to pretend surprise or delight. Her response was genuine as she gazed at the diamond s
tud earrings inside. She looked at her father.

  “Are they real?” she whispered.

  “If they aren't, they are very expensive imitations,” he declared.

  There was a small lump in her throat when she glanced at her stepmother. “It was your idea, wasn't it, Kathleen?” Annette stated with a knowing smile, and felt the comfortable encirclement of family love. “I'm glad we picked you for a mother."

  “Now wait a minute, Annette.” Her father reached out to curl his fingers possessively around the hand Kathleen rested on the table. “I know you like to take credit for finding Kathleen, but I ultimately did the picking."

  “Dad, you're just like all men,” Annette declared with a faint sparkle in her eyes. “You have to be prodded once in a while."

  “Is that a fact?” He eyed her with amused tolerance.

  “It is,” she stated. “A woman has to put ideas in a man's head. There might have been only four of us sitting at this table tonight if Marsha and I hadn't put in a request for a brother."

  “As I recall, I was thinking about little boys long before you mentioned that,” her father chuckled.

  As Annette removed one earring from its velvet bed, Marsha volunteered, “Let me help you put them on."

  With her sister's assistance she didn't need a mirror, but she wished for one. “How do they look?” She had to rely on her family to admire the results.

  “Fantastic!” Marsha assured her, and the others added similar praise.

  Pushing out of her chair, Annette walked around the table to her parents. “Thank you, Daddy.” She bent down and kissed his cheek, then turned and hugged Kathleen. “Thank you both."

  When she straightened and turned to walk back to her chair, Annette found herself face to face with Josh. For a heart-stopping second the smile on her lips froze in place as she stared into his enigmatic brown eyes. Tension seared the air between them, heating her blood. It thawed her expression, as she was unable to deny the raw pleasure that seeing him gave.

  Her gaze wandered over his handsomely hewed features and lingered an instant on the strong line of his mouth, remembering how his kisses had destroyed her preconceived notions of love's feelings at their last meeting. She became conscious that he was dressed in a dark evening suit and tie, his white shirt contrasting sharply with his sun-browned skin. The formal attire gave him a worldly air, a male urbanity that excited and challenged.