Single, Sexy...And Sold!. Vicki Lewis Thompson
struggled to remember her question as she raked the meat off the artichoke leaf with her even white teeth. Either all the food was designed to be sensuous or he was becoming obsessed. “I’m the forcible-entry man.”
“Really?” Her mouth turned up at the corners. “That sounds very macho.”
“It’s not.”
“Of course you wouldn’t think so, Mr. Modest.” She glanced over his shoulder. “I hate to tell you this, but there’s another motorboat on the other side of us, and somebody’s got a video camera pointed in our direction. They’re probably just tourists who think we’re famous.”
“Or they work for a tabloid.” Jonah didn’t bother to turn around. No use letting them have a good shot of his face. “Don’t you think this is getting out of hand?”
“Yeah, but what can we do about it?” She reached for another jumbo shrimp. “At least they’re not making much noise.”
A helicopter headed their way.
“Guess again,” Jonah shouted as the helicopter swooped overhead, turned and made another pass.
Natalie glanced up at the helicopter as she chewed her shrimp. “Unbelievable,” she said as she swallowed and glanced back at him. Then her eyes widened and she started to gasp for air.
Jonah’s chair crashed to the deck as he leaped around the table and pulled her out of her seat. Circling her in his arms, he clasped his hands under her breastbone and applied quick upward pressure. Her sunglasses flew off and the piece of shrimp that had lodged in her windpipe sailed across the table and landed on the deck.
Suzanne and Eric hurried toward them.
“Is she okay?” Eric asked.
“I think she’ll be fine in a minute.” Jonah supported Natalie gently as she took several long, shaky breaths.
“Wow. I’ve never seen anybody react that quick.” Suzanne picked up Natalie’s sunglasses. “No wonder you’re a hero.”
“I’m definitely not a hero,” Jonah said. “Anybody would have—”
“Not true,” Natalie said, her voice slightly hoarse as she extricated herself and turned to him. “Not just anybody would have saved my dog, either.” She cleared her throat and gave him a tremulous smile. “First my dog, now me. It seems I owe you a great deal, Jonah.” A warm light shone in her eyes.
“You don’t owe me a thing.” But as he looked in her eyes, he wondered what form her gratitude might take, and if he’d be strong enough to refuse it.
IN THE FACE OF Jonah’s heroic and sexy persona, Natalie struggled to keep sight of her original goal. She needed to get her mother’s request on the table soon, before she accidentally forgot herself again and ended up in his arms. But she hadn’t figured out exactly how to broach the subject. She still wasn’t sure Jonah would cooperate, especially if he thought he’d be identified somehow as the hero of the novel.
To give herself time to think, she suggested they spend the rest of the afternoon on deck, and Jonah readily agreed. That helped some, until Jonah got his chance to take the wheel. Natalie watched him grin with pleasure as he guided the sleek craft up the river, and she began to ache something fierce. Keeping her distance wasn’t the easiest job she’d ever had.
Except for the helicopter that continued to dog their progress and the boats cruising alongside the yacht, the day was perfect. The sky looked as if someone had scrubbed it that morning before turning on the sunlight, and the wind blew enough to fill the sails without blasting the passengers off the deck. The new green of spring covered the hillsides along the river, and Natalie had a moment’s daydream of sailing the boat all the way to Lake Champlain, alone with Jonah.
But that wasn’t her goal, so she had to be glad they had chaperons galore. They kept the conversation light. As they passed Sleepy Hollow they compared notes on how much the Headless Horseman had scared them as kids. That led to a discussion of childhood, and she found out he was the oldest of four and an Eagle Scout. He learned that she was an only child who had never made it past Brownies.
At one point she slipped in the information that her father had died six months earlier, and the look of sympathy in his eyes made her want to snuggle in his arms, but she didn’t. Besides, the cameras still rolled, and she’d begun to resent them almost as much as Jonah did.
On the trip back, they took turns going below and changing into their dinner clothes. Jonah went first, and the whole time he was belowdecks Natalie imagined him undressing. No matter how she tried to distract herself, she pictured what he’d look like without his shirt, without his pants, without a stitch on that glorious body.
Jonah’s transformation to dinner jacket and tie made her catch her breath.
“Am I okay?” he asked as he joined her on deck.
She looked him up and down. “More than okay,” she said with a smile.
But when it was her turn to appear in her red cocktail dress, she was a bundle of nerves. She never remembered caring so much how a man reacted to her outfit. Twilight had arrived by the time she stepped out on deck, and Jonah stood at the railing gazing at the jeweled skyline of the city slipping by. He must have heard the click of her heels, because he turned as she started toward him.
He didn’t say a word as he held out his hand. She should have ignored his gesture. Touching him was a dangerous occupation, even with chaperons around preparing the yacht for docking. When she placed her hand in his firm grip, she looked into his eyes and her heartbeat quickened. There was no mistaking the message in his eyes, no matter what he had promised her or himself. He wanted her.
“Do I look okay?” There was that husky nervousness again.
“Okay doesn’t even come close to describing how you look,” he said, drawing her over beside him as he returned his attention to the sparkle of lights. He stared at the skyline as his hand tightened over hers. “If you planned to seduce me this weekend, you’re doing a hell of a job.”
“Believe me, I didn’t plan to do that.”
He glanced down at her. “Then I guess you’re just a natural.”
She looked away from his compelling gaze and swallowed. As she focused on the lights of Manhattan, she prayed she’d be able to keep her wits about her for just a few hours more. Soon she’d find the right moment to tell him about her mother’s book. Soon.
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