Lonely Millionaire (8 page)

It was a lie. He'd eaten alone for years. In the Yukon they often worked shifts and never saw anybody at mealtime. On the other hand, that was before he'd met Mandy. Before yesterday. Before he'd shared dinner with her in her kitchen, breakfast in his bedroom and lunch on the breakwater. He had a sudden desire to eat every meal with her from now on to see if he could outdo the one before. Which was going to be a little difficult since she might very likely marry Jack and Jack might not appreciate Adam showing up for dinner every night She was looking up at him with such a guileless, trusting look in her blue eyes he had to look away, over her shoulder and out the window. But he kept his hands on her shoulders.

"Anyway," he continued, "we can't hang around here and think about what they're doing upstairs. And you're all dressed up with no place to go." He let his hands slide down her arms, feeling the warmth of her skin under the soft knit sweater, aware of the smell of soap that clung to her skin. Unable to shake the vision of her in her room with the towel knotted above her breasts, he finally pulled away.

"Back in a flash," he promised. "Can I use the phone in the kitchen?"

He didn't wait for her answer. He made a dash for the kitchen while he could still function. Adam dialed the number and Jack answered on the third ring.

"I can't until I get some input from you. I'm sitting here waiting to hear from you and you're 'out.'" Jack sounded definitely steamed.

"Do you think I want to be out? Do you think I enjoy doing your undercover work for you? You don't think I'm having a good time, do you?" Adam demanded just a shade too sharply.

"That’s exactly what I think. I haven't heard from you all day. And when I do talk to you all I get is 'she's nice.' Is it too much to ask for more information? A few details?"

Adam straddled the kitchen chair and tried to think. What to say about Mandy?

"She's a good cook," he admitted finally.

"Really? She runs a bed and breakfast and she's a good cook. That’s great." Sarcasm dripped from Jack's voice. "Give me a break."

"You know what?" Adam said. "You're not yourself today. You need a vacation."

"I don't need a vacation. I need a wife," Jack snapped. "That’s what this is all about. Or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten. And that reminds me. Mandy has never been married, but she's been hurt, and hurt badly. So go easy. You can't come on too strong. What did you say in your letter? I thought I was handling the letters to Mandy."

"I decided to take over. Especially since you're not here. I can't expect you to keep writing to her when you're under the same roof. What did she say about my letter?"

"Don't tell me what will do me good. The only advice I want from you is whether I should propose to Mandy or not. Would I be happy married to Mandy?"

"Probably. But would Mandy be happy married to you? Especially when she finds out you're not a millionaire."

"I'm a potential millionaire. All I need is one lucky strike. There's a new gold rush on, you know. Just since you left three guys have staked a claim at Granger's Camp. There's gold in the air, I can smell it. So just find out if Mandy's interested in the money or me."

"Okay, okay. I'll see what I can do. But I have to take her out to dinner to find out that kind of thing."

"Is that absolutely necessary?"

"Absolutely. This is a delicate operation. You don't expect me to take her to some local bar and buy her a few beers, do you? I didn't think so. I've gotta run now. Talk to you later."

"Wait a minute," Jack shouted. "How much later? CM me when you get back from dinner."

Adam put the phone down without answering. He'd be damned if he'd call Jack after every conversation with Mandy. Or after every meal. He hurried back to the living room. With one last glance at the stairway, where their guests had last been seen, Adam hustled Mandy out the front door and into his car. They were at the Seadrift a few minutes later.

Adam let his eyes drift over the top of his menu to drink in the sight of Mandy across the table. Mandy interested in money? Mandy a gold digger? It wasn't possible, was it? He cleared his throat. "How do you feel about money, Mandy?"

"I like it," she said with a smile. "Don't you?"

"I like what it buys," he admitted. "Good food, good wine and a good vacation in California every once in a while."

"I'll drink to that," Mandy said, raising her glass of a light California Chenin Blanc. "If only there were more of you, I wouldn't have to worry so much."

"What do you worry about?" he asked, setting his menu on the table.

"The usual. Paying the bills. It's a risky business, bed and breakfasts. Most of than go belly-up within the first year. The only reason I've been able to hold on is because Laurie pays me rent. But I could sure use a big infusion of cash to make some improvements, advertise more."

When the waiter came, they ordered oysters on the half shell, shrimp scampi with wild rice, and a Caesar salad for two.

"What about you?" Mandy asked, folding her hands on the tablecloth. "What do you worry about, Adam?"

He wanted to say he worried she'd fallen in love with a man who didn't exist. A millionaire who had Jack's goals but Adam's personality. He worried about Jack's finding the right woman; he worried about Mandy finding out that Jack had lied to her. But most of all, he worried about what was happening to him, getting involved with Mandy despite his best intentions.

The way she looked at him, her blue eyes the color of the sea at dusk, made him want to confess everything, get it all out at once, clear the air and tell the truth. But it was too late. He was in too deep and Jack had too much to lose.

"What, me worry?" he asked with a grin. "I'm on vacation. I've got no worries at all." Then he remembered his mission. "So you could use some extra money, couldn't you?"

Mandy squirmed uncomfortably. She would never, ever, admit to anyone in a thousand years that she'd answered a personal ad. And she would never, ever, admit to herself that Jack was anything more than just a pen pal. Only she knew that her heart beat a little faster every time she got a letter from him. Only she was aware of how much she looked forward to those letters.

"It’s a long story," she said at last. "Actually, we're just pen pals."

"You mean, you've never met him?"

"How could I? He lives in the Yukon, a zillion miles from nowhere. But I know him better than most people I actually know," she said stiffly.

She met his gaze as her knees brushed his under the table and there it was again, that electricity in the air, the sparks flying between them. Even as they were discussing Jack, Adam was causing sparks to fly through the air. Then he pulled back sharply, almost as if he'd received an electric shock, too.

Mandy scooted back in her chair and refolded her napkin in her lap. "A very special friend," she repeated. "By that I mean that Jack is not an ordinary oil rigger. He writes the most beautiful letters. Maybe it's the solitude that brings out the sensitivity in some men."

"You're so skeptical," Mandy remarked, savoring the sauce on her shrimp. "But you wouldn't be if you actually knew Jack. You might even like him if you met him."

"What about you?" Adam asked, studying the way her hair brushed her shoulders. "You're the one who should meet him. That’s the only way to find out."

He held up his hand. "Guilty as charged. Twenty-foot waves I can take. Gale-force winds and minus zero temperatures. But women are ten times as dangerous. When my wife left, I couldn't get out of bed in the mornings. I felt like I'd been hit over the head with a piece of drill pipe. I'd rather be swept out to sea by a giant wave than go through that again. No more women in my life. Never."

Mandy felt as if she'd been hit by a ten-foot wave herself, so firm was his voice, so vehement his argument. She held up her hand to protect herself from the force of his words.

"You don't have to convince me," she said. "I understand exactly what you mean. I mean, if we can't learn from our mistakes, what’s the use of living? I've never been happier being on my own, making my own way in the world." Her blue eyes shot sparks into the air, so bright he wanted to shield his eyes.

There was no doubting her sincerity, Adam thought, and yet...

"Me, either," he countered, and took her hand in his. "Let's shake on it." But instead of shaking her hand, he just held it for a long moment. He didn't mean to. But for some reason he couldn't let go. He couldn't break the connection, the bond they'd formed in just the short time they'd known each other.

It was getting harder and harder to keep Jack in mind. To keep his interests first and foremost. Even though they seemed to talk about him nonstop, even though she obviously thought about him and treasured his letters, Adam didn't want to think about him at all. Not with Mandy sitting across the table from him, her hair a soft cloud around her face, her hand in his, her knees just a whisper away, so close he could brush them by accident any time be moved.

And then he felt it, like the ten-foot wave he'd mentioned, the kind he wasn't afraid of. A rush of envy hit him so hard his chest hurt. He wanted to be Jack, he wanted her to talk about him the way she talked about Jack, with the same breathless reverence. He wanted to be that rare combination of sensitivity and rugged Yukon man she obviously admired.

No matter what she said about not wanting to take the next step, he knew she was just protecting herself. She might not know it, but all it would take would be for Jack to show up and sweep her off her feet. Of course, there was that protective shell she'd built around herself. It would take some sensitivity to work through that. If he were Jack he'd know exactly what to do.

But he wasn't Jack. He let her hand go. He was Adam, Jack's best friend. And he was not available for a commitment the way Jack was. Jack was ready for the big M word. Marriage and children and all that. What every woman wanted. Even Mandy. No matter what she said, it was what she wanted.

How could he stand between her and what she wanted? He couldn't. She and Jack deserved each other. And he'd have to do his best to see that they got each other. When he got back he'd call Jack and tell him the truth. Mandy was the right woman for him, she had everything he could want. She was sweet, kind, ambitious, hardworking, warm and loving. But Jack had to go slow, realize what she'd been through, show her that all men weren't the same, that some of than could be trusted. Yes, it was clear now what his mission was. No more confusion. No more getting carried away by the sight of her in a wet towel, by the touch of her lips, the look in her eyes.

"Dessert?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Why don't we have coffee back home?" she suggested.

"Fine," he said. But it wasn't fine. He couldn't trust himself to sit down across from her at the kitchen table, as if he belonged there. It was Jack who belonged there, not him. And besides, a cup of coffee could lead to something else.