Page 19 of Megan's Mate
He slipped his hands into his pockets. Safer there, he decided, since the lady was thinking again. “Sugar, you were doing more than your share.”
There was little use in hotly denying the obvious truth. She fell back on cool logic. “You’re an attractive man, and I responded in a natural manner.”
He had to grin. “Darling, if kissing like that’s in your nature, I’m going to die happy.”
“I don’t intend for it to happen again.”
“You know what they say about the road to hell and intentions, don’t you?” She was tensed up again. He could see it in the set of her shoulders. He imagined her experience with Dumont had left plenty of scars. “Relax, Meg,” he said, more kindly. “I’m not going to jump you. You want to take it slow, we’ll take it slow.”
The fact that his tone was so reasonable raised her hackles. “We’re not going to take it any way at all.”
Better, he decided. He didn’t mind riling her. In fact, he was looking forward to doing it. Often.
“I’m going to have to say you’re wrong. A man and woman set off a fire like that, they’re going to keep coming back to the heat.”
She was very much afraid he was right. Even now, part of her yearned to fan that blaze again. “I’m not interested in fires or in heat. I’m certainly not interested in an affair with a man I barely know.”
“So, we’ll get to know each other better before we have one,” Nate responded, in an irritatingly reasonable tone.
Megan clamped her teeth together. “I’m not interested in an affair, period. I know that must be a blow to your ego, but you’ll just have to deal with it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get the children.”
He stepped politely out of her way, waited until she’d reached the glass door leading onto the upper deck. “Meg?” It was only partly ego that pushed him to speak. The rest was pure determination. “The first time I make love with you, you won’t think about him. You won’t even remember his name.”
Her eyes sliced at him, twin ice-edged swords. She abandoned dignity and slammed the door.
Chapter 4
“The woman’ll be the death of me.” Dutch took a bottle of Jamaican rum from his hidey-hole in the back of the pantry. “Mark my words, boy.”
Nathaniel kicked back in the kitchen chair, sated and relaxed after the meal he’d enjoyed in the Calhoun dining room. The hotel kitchen was spotless, now that the dinner rush was over. And Coco, Nathaniel knew, was occupied with family. Otherwise, Dutch wouldn’t have risked the rum.
“You’re not thinking of jumping ship, are you, mate?”
Dutch snorted at the idea. As if he had to take French leave because he couldn’t handle a fussy, snooty-nosed female. “I’m sticking.” After one wary glance toward the door, he poured them both a healthy portion of rum. “But I’m warning you, boy, sooner or later that woman’s going to get her comeuppance. And she’s going to get it from yours truly.” He stabbed a thick thumb at his wide chest.
Nathaniel downed a swig of rum, hissing through his teeth as it hit. Smooth as silk it wasn’t. “Where’s that bottle of Cruzan I got you?”
“Used it in a cake. This is plenty good enough for drinking.”
“If you don’t want a stomach lining,” Nathaniel said under his breath. “So, what’s the problem with Coco now?”
“Well, if it’s not one thing, it’s two.” Dutch scowled at the kitchen phone when it rang. Room service, he thought with a sneer. Never had any damn room service aboard one of his ships. “Yeah, what?”
Nathaniel grinned into his rum. Tact and diplomacy weren’t Dutch’s strong points. He imagined that if Coco heard the man growl at guests that way, she’d faint. Or pop Dutch over the head with a skillet.
“I guess you think we’ve got nothing better to do down here?” he snarled into the phone. “You’ll get it when it’s ready.” He hung up and snagged a plate. “Ordering champagne and fancy cake this time of night. Newlyweds. Ha! Haven’t seen hide nor hair of the two in number three all week.”
“Where’s your romance, Dutch?”
“I leave that to you, lover boy.” His ham-size fists delicately cut into the chocolategâteau. “Seen the way you was eyeing that redhead.”
“Strawberry blonde,” Nathaniel corrected. “More gold than red.” Bravely he took another sip of rum. “She’s a looker, isn’t she?”
“Never seen you go for one that wasn’t.” With an artist’s flair, Dutch ladled vanilla sauce on the side of the twin slices of cake and garnished them with raspberries. “Got a kid, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah.” Nathaniel studied the cake and decided he could probably force down a small piece. “Kevin. Dark hair, tall for his age.” A smile curved his lips. Damned if the boy hadn’t gotten to him. “Big, curious eyes.”
“Seen him.” Dutch had a weakness for kids that he tried to hide. “Okay-looking boy. Comes around with those other two noisy brats, looking for handouts.”
