Lonely Millionaire (6 page)

Mandy stared at his bed as if she'd never seen it before. She pictured herself perched on the edge, feeling the vibrations from his body. Deliberately she walked to the window seat and sat down on the flat cushion. After all, he was a guest. And if guests hated to eat alone...

He cut himself a large piece of the egg and muffin with its accompanying sauce and closed his eyes to savor the combination of flavors. "You made this?" he asked.

"That's enough," he said, cutting a sausage into pieces. "We'd make a great team, you and I. I do dinners, you do breakfasts. If you're interested in teaming up, that is." He looked at her over his coffee cup.

"I'm not and neither are you," she reminded him.

"Oh, that's right," he said, staring at her, noticing the way she was outlined against the window, her glorious hair that he wanted to plow his hands through, her firm, upturned breasts under her crisp shirt. Not to mention the apron that just barely covered her thighs.

Ever since she'd appeared in the doorway looking like a French maid in Levi's, he'd fantasized about untying that little apron from around her waist and taking her to bed with him. He rubbed his free hand over his forehead and reminded himself of why he was there. To get to know Mandy, but not in the physical sense. He drained his coffee cup.

"I thought so. It sounds like you, warm and kind and caring. So caring you wouldn't leave a guest on his own, would you?"

"Well, what would you want to do?" She crossed the room and stood at the door, looking apprehensive.

There were so many things he wanted to do, it made his head swim. And they all began with removing that little apron and went on from there. It wasn't easy seeing her stand so close, her skin suffused with a faint flush, and think about sight-seeing when all the sights he wanted to see were right in this room.

"There are so many possibilities," he said, trying to focus on the brochure in his hands. "So much to choose from. There are the tide pools, the Winchester Mystery House, the elephant seals and whatever else you suggest." Lifting the tray aside and placing it on the floor by the bed, he stood and stretched, and she turned toward the door. "So if you want to get ready, I'll change and meet you downstairs in a half hour or so."

She shot him a look over her shoulder that told him what be wanted to know. She was not yet bewitched, but she was definitely bothered and bewildered. And Jack had nothing to do with it. That shouldn't make Adam feel so smug and self-satisfied. It shouldn't make him look forward to a day alone with Mandy, either, so much so that his heart pounded with anticipation, but it did, and he was. But as long as he kept his feelings to himself and acted like a casual guest, where was the harm?

Mandy threw a load of clothes into the washing machine, the dishes in the dishwasher, made up the beds the Davises had occupied, and finally outlined her lips with gloss and grabbed a sweater.

October days along the coast were usually warm, but evenings could be chilly. Evenings? Who said anything about evenings? She was going out to show Adam the sights. A brief outing where she would give an overall view of the surroundings so he could find his own way around for the rest of his stay. She hadn't been in this business very long, but she didn't think that most hostesses actually accompanied their guests on tours of the area. For one thing, they were too busy. Why wasn't she? Good question. She must be doing something wrong.

Adam was sitting in the front parlor when she came in from her bedroom. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue polo shirt that didn't hide the muscles in his arms, muscles acquired not from lifting weights at a health club, but from drilling for oil in the Arctic Sea. She tore her gaze away and looked at the reading material in his hands.

He raised his arms, held out his palms and the brochures scattered over the floor. "I want to see it all. Where do we start?"

She smiled at his enthusiasm. "I don't know," she admitted. "I haven't been to most of these places, either. You know how it is when you live someplace. You take things for granted. I don't get out much." That was putting it mildly. She didn't get out at all. She'd buried herself in her house, telling herself she had too much work to do. The truth was, she had no one to do things with. Even when her sister was home, she was never really home.

Mandy leaned down and picked up a folder from the floor. There was a picture of a giant, award-winning pumpkin, grown right down the road in Half Moon Bay, self- proclaimed pumpkin capital of the world. "Good grief," she said, "it's almost Halloween. We can hit the pumpkin festival on our way down the coast."

"There's nothing I'd like better," he murmured in her ear, "than to take you," he paused and she felt his tongue trace the tender outline of her ear "to a pumpkin festival."

Mandy felt a weakness in her limbs as if they'd suddenly turned into putty. She crumbled the folder in her hand and lurched forward. "Then let's go."

They took his rental car. Mandy gave directions while she silently reminded herself that she was out on a fact-finding mission so she could be better informed about the attractions of the area. The problem was that the attractions of Adam Gray threatened to overshadow anything the coastal area could offer, including the famous pumpkin festival. And as they drove along the coast highway with the ocean on her right and green fields of the commercial flower growers on her left, she asked herself if all this wasn't just a little too good to be true.

The best-looking, sexiest, most rugged hunk of manhood, right out of Yukon Man just drops into her bed and breakfast and proceeds to knock her off her feet. Things like that just didn't happen to Mandy Clayton. Not unless there was a catch. What was the catch? She slid a glance at Adam and he reached for her hand, placing it on his muscular thigh. Mandy grabbed her hand back as if she'd been burned.

"I'm afraid you've got the wrong idea about bed-and- breakfast owners," she said, staring straight ahead, her hands knotted in her lap.

"Maybe I do," he admitted freely with an amused glance. "After all, this is my first time. I've never stayed at one before. Do you mean all the hostesses aren't like you?"

She felt her face flush. "No. Yes. I don't know. I just know that I don't think they flirt with their guests."

"Is that what you're doing, flirting with me? Because I'm not looking for a flirtation, Mandy," he said, his eyes darkening.

Mandy rolled down her window and let the ocean breeze cool her cheeks. "Maybe we should start all over. Define the rules. Restate the situation," she suggested, proud of how steady her voice was when she could still feel the muscles of his thigh against her palm.

"Fair enough." His tone was light. He was enjoying teasing her, seeing how far she'd go. Well, she wasn't going any further than this, not until she knew more about this mystery man.

"The way I see it," he continued, making a left turn at the sign for the historic town of Half Moon Bay, "is that you're the best thing that ever happened to a bed and breakfast. You've entertained me, enlightened me and served me the most fantastic breakfast in bed I've ever had. So far," he added with a gleam in his eye she couldn't ignore, a gleam that suggested other ideas for breakfasts in bed that made her head spin. "And now," he continued, "you're showing me around. I don't know how I can pay you back, do you?"

Mandy ignored the loaded question and pointed to a parking space behind the junior high school. She was beginning to regret she'd asked him to restate the rules. No matter what she said, it led to another suggestion on his part that was loaded with double, even triple meanings that she didn't dare contemplate. Only she was contemplating them so much so that she stumbled over a brick on Main Street. He caught her hand and held it tightly as they wove through the throngs of people engaged in pumpkin-pie-eating contests, pumpkin carving and face painting.

"Want your face painted?" he asked as they watched a beautiful blue star being painted on the cheek of a little girl.

"Isn't it just for kids?" Mandy asked, aware of his warm fingers against hot palm, aware that she could pull away from him but didn't.

He shook his head and when the painter finished with the child, he sat Mandy down on the stool and suggested the "princess look" with sparkles around her blue eyes and a beauty mark next to the dimple in her cheek.

She didn't need paint to look like a princess, Adam thought, watching the artist at work, but good God, she was beautiful with her lips red and full, her eyes highlighted with blue, glitter sprinkled over her cheeks. She looked up at him questioningly, her painted lashes making shadows on her cheeks.

The dimple flashed in her cheek as she placed her hands on his shoulders and firmly pushed him onto the stool in front of the artist.

"I think a pirate look would be appropriate," she told the painter, who proceeded to draw a patch around one eye and a roguish mustache above Adam's upper lip. He sent Mandy a baleful look.

"Fair's fair," she told him cheerfully. But already she regretted making him look any more attractive than he already was. Not only did he look dashing, he looked downright lecherous as a pirate. They paid the artist and continued to wend their way past balloon booths, pumpkin ice cream, and T-shirts, unaware of the admiring glances of passersby.

"I'm not dangerous," he said, allowing the crowd to push him so close to her he could see the flecks of green in her blue eyes. "I'm hungry."

And before she could answer, his lips were on hers, quick and urgent and hungry, while the throngs milled around him. He kissed her once and then again and again until she was breathless and weak in the knees. Dazed, she pulled back and looked around, but no one noticed them. No one cared that a one-eyed pirate and a princess were locked in a passionate embrace on Main Street. No one but Adam, who looked a little dazed himself and more than a little self-satisfied.

"I've been wanting to do that since I got here," he said.

Mandy took a deep breath. "If you're still hungry," she suggested, "we could pick up some fish and chips down by the water."

Adam grinned at her, took her hand and they walked down to the breakwater to buy their food and eat on top of the rocks.

Adam felt the spray from the waves smashing against the rocks below, and watched Mandy out of the corner of his eye. It was a good thing Jack hadn't happened along Main Street that morning, Adam thought, a wave of guilt threatening him more than the waves below. Jack wouldn't want Adam to go this far in his research. Her kissing ability was not in question. If it was, he'd have to recommend Mandy for her soft lips and the promise of passion just lurking below the surface.

Jack would definitely not approve of the turn the investigation was taking. Adam knew that, and yet he couldn't seem to stop. The more he discovered what Mandy was like, the more he desired her. Yes, he had to admit it, she'd exceeded his expectations. He knew from her letters she was bright and funny, but he hadn't known she was sexy as hell. But he had a duty to leave her alone because she wasn't his and never would be. She belonged to Jack, or so Jack thought. What did Mandy think? He leaned back against a boulder and looked out to the horizon.

"You said you weren't married," he began.

She threw a handful of crumbs to the gulls hovering overhead, waiting for a handout. "So?" she inquired, tilting her head in his direction.

"So I was wondering if there's anyone special, anyone I should know about." He trailed off. It would serve him right if she told him it was none of his business. "Never mind," he said abruptly. "It's none of my business." He didn't want to hear her say, "Yes, there's this guy in the Yukon, the one I mentioned, sensitive, kind, honest. His name is Jack Larue." He didn't want to hear about Jack. But he had to think about him. Jack was his best friend and this was the woman his best friend was going to marry. Maybe.

Mandy stood and held out her hand to him. He took it and pulled himself up next to her.

"Sometimes," she said, drawing her eyebrows together, "I don't understand you."

"Sometimes I don't understand myself," he admitted, brushing a crumb off the corner of her mouth. A cloud of glitter from her cheek dusted his hand. Was that all he was going to get out of this deal? While Jack got the gold, he got the glitter? Well, what did he expect, that Mandy would fall into his arms and throw away the opportunity to marry a millionaire? Not a chance. She was still looking at him, her blue eyes wide and expectant, waiting for him to make the next move.

"We'd better head back," he said gruffly.

Her eyes widened and he hated himself for bringing their day to an abrupt halt. But it was better to do it now than later. Because sooner or later she'd find out who he was and she'd hate him for lying to her.