Playing with Dynamite (11 page)

“I want you to stay away from me,” she whispered.

“No chance,” he whispered back.

“I'll tell everyone your name is Elvis,” she threatened.

“I'll tell all those yuppie types you can't drive backward without running over something. They'll consider your auto insurance premium a heavy liability.”

“That's unforgivably low.” Her voice trembled.

Brick looked at her with cool, calculating eyes. “I'll go as low as I need to.”

“Why?” she asked desperately. “This is useless, crazy. Why?”

He gently cupped her jaw and knew what he was about to say might sound arrogant and possessive, but he wanted her to know the full measure of his desire for her. It was more than desire, though, and greater than passion. She was as essential to him as oxygen, more important than food, as vital as water. He needed her to know. “Because you're mine,” he told her in a quiet but firm voice. “And I intend to keep you.”

 

Lisa told him where to put his intentions and threw him out. Her nausea evaporated under the heat of her fury. Still shaking with anger five minutes later, she looked for something to throw at the door of her cabin.

“Of all the
nerve!
” she yelled at the walls surrounding her.

She needed to vent in a very bad way. When she'd first seen Brick on board the previous day, the ship might as well have flipped upside down. That's what had happened to her heart. She'd missed him so much, struggled with a terrible sadness after she'd left him at the hotel. She'd barely managed to pull herself together, and there he was showing up again where she least expected him and putting every other man in the shade.

Lisa was beginning to suspect that no matter what she did, she wasn't going to be able to get rid of Brick. Even if she moved to another planet, she feared he would always be there in her mind and heart. The notion made her want to scream.

The sense of dread that had rumbled deep inside her threatened to burst to the surface. Taking a deep breath, she stood in the middle of the cabin with the ship rocking beneath her and felt the back of her neck grow damp with perspiration.

What if she couldn't shake him? What if she was in love for good with a man who couldn't or wouldn't marry her?

Needing comfort, Lisa wrapped her arms around herself. Her mind immediately flew to Brick and how his arms felt around her, how his fingers clasped her rib cage with a gentle grip. He wasn't in the room, but she could smell his scent. A flush of heat spread through her. The mere memory, the mere thought of him made her heart contract. She had grossly underestimated his hold on her.

Brick was in her blood, and she had never felt so hopeless.

 

The next morning Brick looked over the crowd of singles with an appraising eye. Lisa had ignored him at breakfast again. It was a nervous kind of ignoring. Brick considered that a slight improvement, but not quite enough. She was doing her best to stay focused on other men, so she wouldn't have to deal with him. Of course, Brick wanted Lisa to deal exclusively with him.

There was a contract that specified such exclusivity, and Brick was willing to try it with Lisa.

Marriage.

The familiar uneasiness immediately assailed him. An edge of panic crept in. His stomach churned, and he opened a new roll of antacids. He felt the strongest urge to cut and run, to say to hell with this.

But he didn't.

The sun reflected on the deep blue ocean making it sparkle like diamonds. Voices hummed around him. Brick took a deep breath and counted to twenty-five. He took another deep breath and counted to twenty-five, and repeated the anxiety-reduction technique another time.

A fraction of the tension eased. Brick felt a slow grin build from within. It had worked. His sessions with Dr. Michaels had accomplished several things, the most important of which was providing Brick with ways to cope with his phobia of marriage. Dr. Michaels called them coping skills. Brick called them his little bag of tricks, and although he hadn't completely overcome his fear, he knew he'd come a long way.

The secret, he'd learned, was to wait it out by using one of these little tricks. Brick wanted to propose to Lisa and try to explain about his fear, but he still felt leery of admitting such a weakness to her. Although he believed Lisa loved him, the idea of exposing himself that way made his skin crawl. Maybe it was foolish, but he didn't want her to think less of him. She was too important to him.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts, he swore under his breath. It was hell trying to talk marriage to a woman who wasn't speaking to you. He needed to get her alone without any distractions, he thought, throwing a dark glance at a group of married wannabes swimming in the pool. He needed her to turn toward him instead of away from him. He needed her to drop her guard.

Brick accepted a cup of juice from a server and reviewed his options. He could lock her in his cabin until she agreed to listen. After her vehement response to his possessive statement the night before, however, he supposed that might not work so well. No, he needed her to turn to him out of her own free will. He thought of the variety of men who were on the cruise, many of whom he knew wouldn't appeal to Lisa.
Thank God.

A wicked idea came to mind. Brick immediately rejected it. It was underhanded and dirty, not particularly fair. He couldn't do it. It wouldn't… At that moment, he caught sight of Lisa making her way to the pool area, wearing a bathing suit designed to raise the temperature of every man to steaming hot. Probably another one of Senada's damn ideas. Restraining the urge to throw a towel over her, he ground his back teeth and recalled that he'd told Lisa he'd go
as low as he had to
to keep her.

Temporarily forcing his attention away from her, he surveyed the crowd again and reconsidered that wicked idea. There were men of all ages represented from various parts of the country. It took only a moment before he identified the first candidate who would send Lisa leaping into his arms.

It was enormous work projecting calm on the outside when you were sweating a river on the inside. Lisa's doubts and uncertainties had only multiplied overnight. She'd forced herself to focus on another man at breakfast, but she hadn't a clue what he'd said, and he'd talked for fifteen minutes straight. Thank goodness the man had been too self-absorbed to notice.

Even now, she felt Brick watching her. The realization started with a little tingle at the back of her neck and spread quicker than the fever from a common cold to every region of her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the silhouette of his athletic body. The sun glinted off his hair as it fluttered across his forehead. She could imagine running her fingers through the strands, relishing the crisp texture. She could imagine his breath on her face just before he kissed her. She could imagine him pulling her into an embrace so that her breasts meshed with his chest.

When her breasts began to swell, Lisa bit back a groan and mentally chastised herself. She tugged at her tiny bathing suit strap and wished she hadn't let Senada talk her into this. Silently cursing in frustration, she decided to skip lunch and remain by the pool until the ship docked at the island. Selecting a chair, she reminded herself she had a lot to be thankful for. The weather was gorgeous with not a cloud in sight. A lovely ocean breeze diffused the heat of the sun, and the atmosphere among the cruise guests seemed less frenzied today. Her seasickness had vanished. Lisa reclined in the chaise longue and opened her book on getting married. She lamented the fact that the SPF 25 sunscreen she wore might protect her skin from the sun, but it wouldn't do a thing for the hot, achy feeling Brick's intent gaze caused inside her.

Two hours later, she was ready to throw herself overboard. She almost couldn't believe the odd assortment of men who'd hit on her during the last one hundred and twenty minutes. The first one, older than her father, had slyly called her
kitty cat.
Lisa's stomach hurt when strangers called her animal names. The second man indicated his preference for tall, curvy women in the same breath that he said his mother had also been tall and curvy.

They blurred together after that. Just when she recovered from one, another would approach her. She wondered if she were wearing a sign,
Weirdos, hit on me.
Thank goodness it was nearly time to dock.

Refocusing her mind on a scenic trip to the island, Lisa swung her legs over the side of her chaise longue and slid her feet into her sandals. She put her unread book into a bag.

As she rose to leave a man with a ten-gallon hat slowed his heavy-booted stroll and stood directly in front of her. “Howdy, ma'am. I'm Cal Jeffreys from Iowa. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Not another one.
With great trepidation, Lisa placed her hand in his and tried not to cringe at his overly firm handshake. “Lisa Ransom from Tennessee. Thank you.”

“I signed up for this cruise to meet a good woman.”

She smiled carefully. “I hope you find what you're looking for.”

He nodded. “You look like a good, sturdy girl,” he said, eyeing her up and down appreciatively. “Not too scrawny like most of these other ones. I want a woman with meat on her bones.”

Lisa blinked. She
guessed
this was his version of a compliment. Unable to think of a single suitable reply, she nodded vaguely.

“I've got me a farm, good livestock and a new truck.” His chest swelled with pride. “Now, all I need is a filly to share it all with.”

She refused to believe this could happen to her twice in one day. He was not calling her a horse, she told herself. Nevertheless, her stomach seemed to turn. “You need a horse?”

Cal gave a loud bark of laughter. “Good sense of humor. That's something else I like in a woman. You're pulling my leg, aren't you? When I say filly, I mean I need a bride who'll give me six or seven sons.” He gave her a broad wink and tipped his hat. “I gotta check out the rest of the stock, if you know what I mean. But I'll keep you in mind.”

Lisa stared after him as he left.
He'd called her a filly.
“Heaven forbid,” she muttered under her breath, and decided she needed some Alka-Seltzer.

 

After an afternoon and evening spent exploring the streets of Freeport alone, Lisa fell into an exhausted sleep, dreaming of kittens and fillies. Some might call it overreacting, but she was so disgusted, she tossed the how-to-get-married book in the trash. She awoke with a strong desire to avoid any of the men she'd met at the pool, so she took the shuttle to the International Market. She walked out of a jewelry store and ran into Brick.

“Hi,” she said, feeling an indecent rush of pleasure.

“Hi yourself.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a wooden beam that displayed the sign for the market. His eyes lit with warm interest. “Enjoying the sights?”

Strangely embarrassed, she shrugged. “Uh, yes. It's beautiful here.” She lifted her bag. “I've been shopping.”

Glancing at the bag, he nodded. “Find anything interesting?”

“Just some odds and ends, a few pieces of jewelry.”

“Haven't seen you lately.”

“I wanted to get in as much sight-seeing as possible.” It sounded lame to her own ears, but she was thankful that he didn't call her on it.

“Oh.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Met anyone interesting?”

Lisa grimaced at the memory of the men she'd met the day before. She saw a hint of amusement flicker across his face. He replaced it with a guileless expression. Suspicious, she paused before she answered. “I think it's safe to say they were interesting. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Just curious. I saw a couple of guys stop by your chair when you were at the pool yesterday. With the bathing suit you were wearing, it was a wonder you weren't mobbed,” he finished with a slight edge to his voice.

“Senada picked it out. Two of the men called me animal names,” she confessed, and sighed. “That's one of those things I can't tolerate. I don't know why, but it just makes me crazy when men who don't know me call me pet names.”

He smothered a chuckle and leaned closer. “No explanation needed. You don't call me Elvis. I won't call you animal names.” He checked his watch. “Have you eaten yet? I'm going snorkeling in about an hour.”

A shot of excitement and envy surged through her. “Snorkeling! I've always wanted to—” She quickly covered her mouth.

“You could go and ignore me,” he suggested in a neutral tone.

Lisa felt her foolish words come back on a wave of embarrassment. “I'm not that good at ignoring you,” she murmured, not pleased, but unwilling to lie anymore.

An edge of sensual ruthlessness flashed across his face and was gone. All she could do was deal with her own underlying uneasiness. A slow grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Then you could go and not ignore me.”

Her heart picked up the pace, and her mind waffled. She was on a cruise and she was tired of struggling with herself night and day. Why shouldn't she enjoy herself for one afternoon? For Pete's sake, it was only snorkeling, and she dreaded going back to the ship. What if she ran into one of those characters she'd met at the pool yesterday. “I don't have my bathing suit with me.”

“You could buy one,” he returned, overcoming the objection with ease.

“I wanted to stop by a linen shop.”

He shot her an I-dare-you look. “We've got forty-five minutes.”

Lisa didn't know if she was sinking or flying. “The ship leaves this evening. We'll need to get back in time,” she told him, subtly reminding both of them that this little armistice ended at sundown.

He must have sensed her capitulation because he took her arm. “Where's this linen shop?”

On the way, she stopped in a little hole-in-the-wall place that sold everything from jewelry and sunscreen to swimwear. She selected a purple racing suit, Brick gave a nod of approval and they were off.

The linen shop carried lovely embroidered tablecloths. She could picture her table dressed in one of them with matching cloth napkins, sterling-silver flatware and exquisite crystal. Rubbing the crisp fabric between her fingers, she added a candlestick and a man with violet eyes to the image.

Lisa groaned.

“Which one do you want?” Brick asked, brushing his fingers over the same cloth she was touching.

“I don't know. I love the red rosebuds on this, but that Christmas one,” she said, pointing to a tablecloth on display. “The detail on it is exquisite.” She moved over to the display. “See the little gift boxes and children's toys.” She touched each one as she named them. “The jack-in-the-box, the rocking horse and rag doll.”

“There's a toy train too.”

More undecided than ever, Lisa pushed her hair behind her ear. “The rosebud one is more for general special occasions,” she said, still looking at the Christmas cloth. “I usually go home for Christmas, so I don't know when I'd use it. It's something you'd expect someone with a big family to use. I guess I could get it for my mother.”

But she didn't want to. Brick could hear it in her voice. He also heard something else, something Lisa wouldn't dream she was revealing. She wanted a family. It amazed him that her desire for a family would show up even in her choice of linens. It amazed him, but it touched him too.

“Get the rosebud tablecloth,” he suggested, watching her carefully. “I'll get the Christmas one for you.”

Turning to look at him, Lisa shook her head. “No. I wasn't hinting. I—”

He put his thumb over her lips. “I know you weren't hinting. I want to get this for you.” He would have left it at that if he'd given in to the uneasiness crawling up from his gut, but Brick knew it was time to take another step forward. He drew in a deep breath, knowing this was just the beginning of laying his cards on the table. “I want to get it for your hope chest.”

Lisa's heart seemed to stop. The room tilted. She stared at Brick, her jaw moving, but no sound coming out. She closed her mouth and swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. “Did you say hope chest?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

He hesitated, his gaze wrapping around hers and hinting at more than she'd ever believed possible from him. Lisa felt as if she'd stepped off a very high cliff. Then Brick's expression changed, and oozing discomfort, he looked away. “Yeah. Let's get it and go. It's almost time for us to meet the guy who's taking us snorkeling.” He picked up one of the tablecloths. “Is it one size fits all or what?”

Fighting a ridiculous surge of disappointment and confusion, she forced her attention to the package. “No. It needs to fit the table.” She glanced through the other packages on the table until she found the right size. “This one's right.” She frowned and turned to Brick. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure,” he muttered, but he sounded irritated. “Let's go.”

Lisa followed after him, trying to figure out what was going on inside his mind, inside his heart. During the cab ride to the ocean, she silently pondered his offer to contribute the tablecloth to her hope chest. Although she resisted attaching too much significance to it, she knew the gesture was completely at odds with his standoffish attitude toward marriage. She wanted to ask him about it, but she sensed a subtle, yet definite resistance within him.

By the time they reached the ocean, she gave up and pushed the issue to the back of her mind. Lisa could brood over Brick later while she was alone in her bed. Right now, she wanted to get a closer view of the Caribbean.

 

If Lisa found out, she was going to kill him, Brick thought as he watched her splendid rear end while she took another dive off the side of the boat. In approximately five minutes, the cruise ship was going bye-bye without them. He figured he could safely explain this in twenty years. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to confess that he'd sent those duds to her. Brick would rather face a dozen misfires than Lisa's wrath. And misfires were a blaster's nightmare.

With her absorption in exploring a coral reef, she'd completely lost track of the time. The afternoon had gone better than he'd hoped. She'd been at ease and so had he. As time wore on and Brick quietly shelled out more money to their guide, he'd decided that the setting was too perfect to waste.

He didn't want to take her back to the ship and the distractions it held. He also didn't enjoy deceiving her, and he hoped like hell all this game playing would be over soon.

She popped up out of the water, wearing a huge smile on her face. “Are you coming or not?”

Brick felt a tug deep in his gut. That smile could chase away every nightmare a man could have. Grabbing his snorkel and mask, he called back, “I'm coming.” He jumped overboard into the clear, warm blue water and swam to her side. “You told me not to call you animal names, but if I didn't know better, I'd say you had gills.”

Lisa laughed and playfully splashed him. “Stop!” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “There's so much to see.”

“Yeah,” he agreed around a lustful grin as he treaded water. “Like green eyes and dark eyelashes and a smile bright enough to blind a man.” He dabbed a drop of water from the tip of her nose and curled his hands around her waist. “You look like some kind of sea goddess.”

Lisa looked flattered, but skeptical. “What have you been drinking?”

Brick plastered a hurt expression on his face, but more than enjoyed the natural way she rested one of her hands on his shoulder. “You doubt my sincerity?”

Lisa turned serious. “I doubt a lot of things, but never your sincerity.” She took his hand. “C'mon. I want you to see this school of fish.”

Wondering about those doubts of hers, Brick followed along. It was sheer delight to see how excited she got over each new sight.