Lie to Me (13 page)

Just do it,
he told himself.

A gust of wind blew her hair into her face. She raised her hand to push it away just as he did the same. Their fingers touched as their hands moved together. When her face came back into view, he found himself standing closer to her, his hand in her hair. Her smile fell away as she gazed up at him, invitation filling her incredible hazel eyes.
 

Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers. She leaned into the kiss and her lips moved against his. His head spun as his tongue slipped into her welcoming mouth. She tasted so sweet. He wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her body mold against his, the way he’d felt it last night.

Before he could deepen the kiss further, she pulled back. Her eyes danced with promise. “How about I show you the rest of the island?”

“I’d like that,” he managed, his voice thick.

“Then, if you’re interested…” She trailed her fingertips over his jaw. “I have some wine at my cottage. We can sit out on my deck and you can tell me all about this tournament you want to host here.”

Chapter 9

“Do you need any help in the kitchen?” Luc asked as they entered Chloe’s cottage later.

“No way.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she pressed a hand to his chest, playfully holding him off. His plan to not get distracted by more kisses had failed miserably during the tour of the island since they’d stopped to kiss at nearly every guest room and bungalow she showed him. “I know what will happen if you follow me into the kitchen,” she told him. “We’ll starve.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He thought about pulling her into his arms, but remembering the plan, he resisted.

As if determined to foil his good intentions, she stepped up against him and pressed her mouth to his. To his disappointment, her lips remained closed and she pulled back before he could deepen the kiss.
 

“Behave,” she chastised, her eyes sparkling as she walked backward. “At least for a few minutes while I throw some munchies together.”

“If you insist.” He grinned as she vanished behind a wall, into the kitchen, he assumed. His breath released in a rush, which did little to cool his body. Or mind. He couldn’t believe how comfortable he’d started to feel around her.
 

Man, though, he needed to slow down. He could hear her rummaging through the refrigerator and decided to distract himself by checking out her place. The living room had a fresh, beachy vibe with soft blue walls. Photography magazines lay in a neat fan on an old trunk that served as a coffee table. That piqued his curiosity, making him take a closer look at all the photos he saw around the room, from those in easel-back frames on the end tables to the multitude of pictures that had been hung in a gallery-style grouping on the wall.

He noted that none of the photographs were family snapshots or vacation pictures. They were all artistic shots: beach scenes, cloudscapes, close ups of sea shells and flowers. Some had people, mostly the children, but the people were part of the composition, not the focal point.
 

“Are these photos your work?” he asked.

“It’s kind of a hobby,” she answered, still rummaging in the kitchen.

“They’re really good,” he told her, impressed. The one consistent element in all of them was light, the way sunlight reflected off the water, lit the clouds, shone through leaves, spotlighted a single objected. She photographed light. “Do you sell these?”

“Someday, maybe. Right now, I’m still learning.”

“Hey, all artists are still learning,” he told her. “It’s a process, not an accomplishment.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. As for munchies, I can throw together a selection of cheeses, cured meat, crudités, and bruschetta.”

His brows shot up. “That’s your idea of munchies?”

“’Fraid so.” Her heavy sigh sounded apologetic. “If you want something more like junk food, I could raid the pantry at the inn. Except, I doubt they have much in the way of store bought chips and dip.”

“No, what you have sounds amazing.” Unable to resist, he went around the wall, into the small dining area, so he could see into the kitchen. He found Chloe standing on the other side of a breakfast bar, eyeing the selection of food she’d laid out on the counter. “Wow, you keep your kitchen well stocked.”

“Spoken like a true bachelor.” She smiled at him. “Since we’re having tapas, what’s your choice for wine? Red or white?”

“Red,” he said.

“If you want to pick one out, the wine rack is behind you.” She pulled a pair of stemmed glasses from a cabinet.

“I can do that.” He spotted the rack next to an antique buffet. Perusing it, he found a nice variety. “How about this Sonoma Valley pinot noir?”

“Sounds perfect.”

While he opened the bottle, she went about slicing a baguette for the bruschetta. He poured a glass and carried it around the bar. The small kitchen gave him an excuse to stand close to her. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” she said, and took a sip. Her eyes closed in pleasure. “Mmm, that is good.”

His gaze dropped to her lower lip, where a drop of wine clung.

“Let me see.” He lowered his mouth to hers, his lips parting just enough to capture her lower lip. “Tastes even better like that.”

Her eyes opened a fraction, shining up at him through her lashes. “You sure?”

Going up on her toes, she kissed him lightly, then took his lower lip between her teeth and pulled back slowly. “Mmm, yes, much better.”

Arousal shot through him. In a flash, he had her pressed back against the counter as he cupped her head in both hands and devoured her mouth. With their hips pressed together, his shaft grew hard between them.

“Luc,” she chuckled, turning her head to break the kiss. Deprived of her mouth, he trailed kisses down her neck. “I have a sharp object in my hand and really don’t want to cut either one of us.”

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathed near her ear. “You know that, right?”

“Trust me, it’s mutual.” She wiggled away from him. “Which is why I need you to go back to your side of the breakfast bar while I’m slicing and dicing.”

“All right,” he sighed, and did as she asked. Taking a seat on one of the barstools, he watched her rub the slices of baguette with a garlic clove. Arranging them on a baking sheet, she slid them into the oven to toast. Retrieving a wedge of parmesan cheese from the refrigerator, she made quick work of grating it. Without breaking stride, she grabbed a jar of roasted bell peppers from the cabinet. Her efficient moves intrigued him. “Can I ask a question?”

“Depends on what it is.” She flashed him a grin.

“How did a tomboy like you learn to cook like this?”

“The first summer I came to Pearl Island, I had a crush on Adrian.” She released a dreamy sigh that stirred his jealousy. “Which is mildly embarrassing now.”

“Most crushes are,” he muttered into his wine, hoping she never found out about the huge crush he’d had on her.

“In my defense, a man who looks like Adrian St. Claire could kick-start any young girl’s hormones just by walking into the room.”
 

“Is that so?” His eyes narrowed.

“Since he was the chef for the inn at the time, I hung out in the kitchen. A lot.” Moving to the fridge, she pulled out carrots and celery. “He was very good-natured about it, and a nice enough guy to teach me a few culinary skills.”

“Do you still have a crush on him?” To his relief, he didn’t growl the question.

“No.” She attacked the carrots with a peeler. “For one thing, he’s very married.”

“I’m not sure crushes care about things like that. Sometimes unattainability only makes it worse.” He should know. Chloe had been completely out of his league back in school, which had made him want her even more.

“I imagine Marguerite and Jack would agree with that.” She looked pensive as she sliced the vegetables. “When Alli became my aunt, however, I started thinking of her brother as an uncle-by-marriage. That kind of ruined any daydreams that weren’t strictly platonic. Besides, I really like his wife Jackie. Fantasizing about her man would be wrong. Plus”—humor sparkled in her eyes—“Jackie could easily take me down, which makes it dangerous.”
 

“A tough girl, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.” Chloe’s chuckle emphasized her answer. “She’s not just descended from a privateer, she owns and captains a fully restored tall ship called the
Pirate’s Pleasure
.”

“Are you kidding me?” His interest spiked.
 

“Not at all.” She smiled at his reaction. “She, Adrian, and their son, Taylor, live on it full time. This time of year, they’re in the Caribbean. Jackie works on underwater excavations while Adrian films his cooking show,
Caribbean Spice
.”
 

“He has his own cooking show?” Jealousy gave way to admiration.
 

“Yep.” She grabbed a container of what looked like homemade dip for the vegetables from the fridge. “In the fall, though, they always return here to spend time with the family while they wait out hurricane season. That lets the inn use the ship for themed parties, like the annual Buccaneer’s Ball.”

“You can rent the ship for events?” He dropped his hands to the counter. “That settles it. We definitely have to have a Vortal tournament here. Instead of the ballroom, though, can we have it on the ship?”

“As long as you don’t mind waiting until fall.”

“Trust me, that is not a problem,” he assured. “It’ll take at least that long to put this together.”

But there
was
a problem, he realized. A potentially big problem. He still hadn’t told Chloe about the necklace. Would she even be speaking to him by next fall?
 

Damn it. He wished he could forget about claiming the necklace, but he couldn’t. Not only because he wanted to get it for Mémère, but because he’d stirred Chloe’s interest in Vortal. Sooner or later, she’d sign online to check it out, and then she’d know he hadn’t been up front with her. He saw no way to stop that now. The question had moved back from
if
to
when
.

Soon
, he thought. He had to tell her soon.
 

He contemplated various ways of leading into the subject while Chloe pulled the toast from the oven and topped half of the slices with the mixture of olive oil, roasted peppers, and grated cheese. The other half were piled in a bowl next to blocks of cheese and mounds of cured meats.

“Looks like we’re ready.” She loaded everything onto a restaurant-style serving tray. “How about we sit on the deck?”

“Here, I’ll carry that.” He stood to take the heavy looking tray.

“I got it,” she insisted. “You get the wine.”

Grabbing both glasses and the bottle, he followed her outside. The sun had sunk lower while they’d been inside, casting the woods in early evening shadow. As they reached the deck on the side of the cottage, the trees opened up, allowing a spectacular view of the cove below. The sunset painted the sky and water in shades of yellow and peach.

“Man,” he breathed in awe, going to the rail to take it all in. “It must really suck to live here.”

“Most definitely,” she agreed.

He turned to find her setting the tray on a coffee table before a daybed that looked perfect for lounging on lazy days. A multitude of pillows added splashes of color while the gauzy curtains along the far side of the deck lent an air of whimsy.

“Spend a lot of time out here?”
 

“A little,” Chloe admitted in an understatement. She picked up a book of matches and lit several fat candles in glass holders that sat on tall stands. Enjoying the way he watched her, she went to the daybed and settled into one corner.
 

“It’s a great space,” he said, looking at her as if he couldn’t see anything else.

“Are you going to join me?” She tilted her head.

He took a seat at the opposite end of the daybed, holding out her glass of wine. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She intentionally grazed her fingers over his as she took the glass. “So,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Where should we start?”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“With the food,” she clarified innocently, turning to the spread on the coffee table.

“Oh, yes, of course.” Color stained his cheeks. He’d grown more comfortable around her during their tour of the island, but she could tell he still felt awkward. That tempted her to play the seducer, but she wanted to put him at ease, not scare him off.
 

“Let’s see if my feta dip tastes as good today as it did when I made it.” Selecting a stick of celery, she dredged it through the creamy dip and took a bite. The crisp celery released an explosion of moisture in her mouth to mix with the tangy, spicy dip. “Mmm, even better. Try some.”

He gave it a try with a carrot stick and nodded in approval. “Really good.”

While they enjoyed the food, he asked her about life in Galveston and working at a B and B. The first stars came out as the color faded from the sky.

“It’s so nice out here,” she sighed, enjoying the sound of the breeze through the trees. The candlelight danced about them, cocooning them in a pool of light.