Once Upon A Kiss...

Annie’s chest tightened inside her elegant gown. This sounded like some kind of major declaration. Or was it simply dinner-party chatter? She didn’t have enough experience to tell the difference. And Sinclair’s eyes were having a very unsettling effect on her.

He lifted both of their glasses and handed one to her. “To perfection. Long may it reign in castle Drummond.” She smiled and clinked her glass against his. The champagne contrasted pleasurably with the smooth saltiness of the oyster.

“Castle Drummond. I like that. The house doesn’t have a name, does it?”

“We’ve always called it Dog Harbor, after the town. It should, though. Anything that’s hung in there for three hundred years should have a name.”

“Especially if it’s built of wood. I can’t believe those ceiling beams in the attic. That house was built to stand the test of time. Do you think part of that old cup is really up there somewhere?”

He shrugged. “Could well be. It has no value or function that would encourage anyone to sell it over the years, so unless it was thrown away at some point, it’s probably in there somewhere.”

He fed her another oyster, and she shivered slightly as the cool, liquidy flesh slid down her throat. The tender look in his eyes made the gesture seem almost protective. Don’t get carried away! This is just one night.

It was hard not to, though. She picked up another oyster and fed it to him. He held her gaze as he pulled it into his mouth, and a corresponding flash of awareness lit up her secret places. Energy was gathering here, swirling around them, drawing them closer together.

A waiter arrived at the table with an empty wine bottle and a broad smile. Annie and Sinclair both looked at him curiously. Then he pulled out two leaves of delicate paper and two golden pencils. “You are hereby invited to write a message to each other. Preferably something you’d never dare say out loud. You may share the message before you place it in the bottle—or not. All the bottles will be released into the ocean to travel around the world and take your messages to each other with them.”

Annie blinked. What would she never dare say out loud?

I’m crazy about you.

He probably knew that anyway.

Sinclair was frowning at his piece of paper. He glanced up at her with an odd look in his eyes. “Let’s write something and not show each other.”

“Okay.” Anxiety fluttered in her stomach. What if he said they wouldn’t look, then at the last minute they had to because of some party game? She picked up her pencil and chewed it thoughtfully. “At least they’re not making us write rhyming couplets.”

“True, though that might be fun.” He paused for a moment, then started writing, looking intently at his paper.

She couldn’t read the words, partly because a single candle on the table was their only light beyond the moon, and partly because his writing was worse than most doctors’. She turned to the blank square that sat mockingly on the table. A quick glance revealed that other guests at the tables around them were writing or even already squeezing their rolled-up papers into the neck of the bottle. “What if it ends up in the Great Pacific Plastic Patch?”

“What if it ends up in the hands of a lonely castaway on a remote Pacific island and gives him the strength to survive another month?”

“You apparently have a more romantic imagination than me.” She snuck a glance at him. He’d rolled his paper into a thin cylinder, held between his thumb and finger. “And now I’m really curious about what you wrote.”

He smiled mysteriously. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, making heat rise under her skin.

Sinclair, I think you’re a very handsome and thoughtful man who deserves to live happily ever after (preferably with me). She wrote the last part so tiny there was no way anyone could read it. P.S. I love you.

She rolled the message up fast and shoved it into the neck of the bottle before anyone could pry it from her fingers and make her read it aloud. Her hands trembled with the power of writing exactly what she wanted to, and not settling for saying the sensible thing. If it came back to haunt her someday, so what? Right now she was living a dream, if only for a night.

Did she really love him? She had no idea. Lack of experience again. She’d certainly never admired and adored a man as much as she did Sinclair. And a simple glance in her direction from him made her palms sweat. If that wasn’t love it was something pretty close.

Sinclair pushed his message into the bottle and jammed in the cork their hosts had provided.

The waiter appeared again, and asked them to follow him. Annie rose from her chair, gathered her skirts, and she and Sinclair joined the other couples now walking across the broad sweep of lawn toward the Sound.

The moon cast an ethereal silver glow over the landscape. The lawn was a lush carpet underfoot and the slim beach at the shoreline glittered like crushed diamonds. Protected from the Atlantic by Long Island, the waveless water shimmered like a pool of mercury. Behind them the house resembled a fairy palace, its many windows lit and lanterns festooning the terraces.

As they grew closer she could see rowboats, almost like Venetian gondolas, lined up along a long, wooden dock. They bobbed slightly on the calm water. Attendants dressed in black brocade helped each couple into their own personal boat and gave the oars to the men, before pointing to a small, tree-cloaked island far out in the water.

“We’re supposed to row out there in the dark?” Each gondola had a lantern, hung from a curlicue of wrought iron, at its stern.

“It’ll be an adventure.” Sinclair’s low voice stirred something inside her. He took her hand, his skin warm and rough against hers. Her pulse quickened as they walked along the dock, amid laughs and shouts of mock distress from the other boaters. Sinclair and the staff helped her into the boat and seated her on a surprisingly comfortable plush seat, while Sinclair took up his place at the oar locks.

“Do stop at Peacock Island for refreshments.” An elegantly attired man gestured toward the clump of trees dotted with lanterns, barely visible in the black night.

Sinclair pulled away from the dock with powerful strokes, soon overtaking even the first boat to leave, and heading out into the quiet darkness of the sound.

Yet another bottle of champagne, beaded with tiny droplets of condensation, sat in a silver bucket at the prow of the boat. Annie resolved to keep her hands off it. Too much champagne might make her do something she would regret.

“The island is that way,” she said, as he rowed swiftly past it, their wake lapping toward its shores.

“I know. I’m taking us somewhere else.”

Eight

Sinclair enjoyed the pull of the oars in the heavy water. It felt good to move his muscles. The tension building between Annie and him all evening was beginning to tip from pleasurable to punishing.

Annie looked out over the side of the boat, staring at the long ribbon of the shore. The cool moonlight played across her features. He loved her face. She had a freshness about her that always caught his eye. Bright eyes, her mouth so quick to smile, that adorable nose with its faint sprinkling of freckles. Even in her extravagant gown and evening makeup she looked innocent and unworldly.

Was that what attracted him? Perhaps he was so jaded and tired of the world’s movers and shakers that her quiet beauty and sweetness became irresistible.

Then there was her body. The voluminous skirt did nothing to hide his memory of her gorgeous, shapely legs … wrapped around his waist. The fitted bodice cupped her small, full breasts in a way that made his blood pump faster. Her gold-tinged hair was swept up into a knot, with a few strands escaping to play about her cheeks and momentarily hide her pretty blue eyes.

Was it really a good idea to take her to a private dock, away from the prying eyes of strangers? Probably not.

But he pulled away at the oars, as sure of his destination as he’d ever been.

“It’s so quiet out here. I love it.” Her voice drifted toward him, then she turned, all sparkling eyes and lush, full lips. “It’s nice being away from the lights on the shore. We can see the stars.” She looked up, and the moon glazed her face with its loving light.

Sinclair looked up, too, and almost startled at the bright mantle of stars—hundreds of them, millions—filling the dark sky above them. “I don’t think I’ve looked up at the stars in years.”

She laughed, a heartwarming sound. “And they’ve been up there all the time, shining away, waiting for you to remember them.”

“I guess I’ve forgotten a lot of things. They say you get wiser as you get older, but I’m not so sure.”

“We’re not at the age where you get wiser yet. You have to go through other stages first, like the ones where you dream too big, then have your hopes crushed and get scared.”

“What are you scared of?” She seemed so self-contained, in her neat domestic world, it was hard to imagine her being afraid of anything.

She shrugged, then hugged herself for a second. “Life not working out the way I hope it will. I think we’re both in the phase of life where you start to realize it’s now or never for a lot of things.”

“You sound like my mom. She thinks if I don’t have children this calendar year the Drummonds will vanish from the face of the earth and we’ll both grow old and wizened alone together.”

“I guess that’s what she’s scared of. I don’t suppose you ever grow wise enough to stop worrying about some things. What are you afraid of?”

She fixed her steady blue gaze on him, expecting nothing less than the truth.

“Failure.” He responded with honesty. “For all my success in business, I haven’t succeeded where it matters most.”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with understanding. “You want to have a family, and you’re worried you never will.”

“At this point I’m pretty sure I never will.” She was so easy to talk to. He didn’t feel the need to put on an impenetrable facade with her. “I’ve already tried twice and I know when to admit failure. If my marriage prospects were a publicly traded company I’d be dumping the stock.” A smile crept to his mouth, despite his dismal confession. “Wouldn’t you?”

“No.” She hesitated, and a smile danced in her eyes. “But I’d be looking at how to enhance my business strategy for an increased chance of success. Perhaps a new approach to management, with more carefully selected principals.”

He laughed. “You mean I need better taste in women.”

She shrugged. Moonlight sparkled off her smooth skin. “Worth a try, at least.”

Was Annie the right woman for him? The question hung in the still night air. No doubt she was wondering the same. No one sensible would recommend that a man of his background and position look for love with an “uneducated housekeeper”—but Annie was so much more than the sum of those two dismal words. What she lacked in formal education she’d obviously made up for with reading widely and observing closely. His previous marriages had proved that choosing a highly educated and ambitious mate was not necessarily a recipe for success.

“Where are we headed?”

Her question startled him. “I don’t know. I only know that I enjoy your company immensely. And I think you’re the sweetest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

She stared for a moment, than laughed softly. “I appreciate your frank answer, but I meant, where are we rowing to? The lights from the party are totally out of sight.”

“Don’t worry. I know the Sound like the back of my hand. Rather better, in fact. Who really knows the back of their hand, anyway?” He smiled mysteriously.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” She tried to look stern, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Some people would be very nervous about being sailed off with in the dark with no idea where they’re going.”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.”

He wanted to reach out and reassure her, but couldn’t take his hands off the oars. “We’re going to the private dock of a friend of mine. I keep a boat there, in fact. It’s just around this next headland.” He gestured out into the darkness. You couldn’t see anything now but dark, shimmering water and the broad cloak of stars over their heads, but he knew the curve of the coast like the face of an old friend.

At last the wooded shore beckoned, and he steered the boat into the familiar sheltered cove, where broad stone steps joined the water to the vast lawn of his friend’s Victorian summer house. The house itself was shrouded in darkness, but moonlight illuminated the stone terraces with their sheltered seating areas. He docked the boat and tied it to one of the big, cast iron mooring rings. Annie giggled as he helped her to her feet so she could make a bold leap out of the boat, with her skirts gathered in one hand.

She glanced around. “I feel like we’ve landed at the Taj Mahal.”

“I think that’s what the architect intended. My friend’s great-great-grandfather imported tea from India and wanted to recreate the pavilions of Assam here on Long Island.” He led her through a stone archway to a row of cushioned seats that lined one side of the terrace.

“This should be more comfortable than the boat.” He helped her sit down on the plush cushions. An ornately painted pavilion sheltered them from the moonlight, which filtered through the trees around them.

“I’m slightly worried that you brought me here to take advantage of me.” She raised a slim brow.

“I brought you here so we could be alone together. That doesn’t seem to be possible even in my own house right now.”

“I think it’s sweet the way you’re taking care of your mom. They always say you can tell everything you need to know about a man by the way he treats his mother.”

“Then maybe I’m not quite so dastardly as legend would have you believe.”

She paused and looked at him. “I already know you’re kind and thoughtful.”

He laughed. “Maybe not as much as you think. It’s possible that you have good reason to be worried for your virtue. Any man would be hard-pressed to resist the temptation of being alone in the dark with you.”

In the privacy of the pavilion he let his hungry gaze roam over her, drinking in her soft skin, her gentle eyes, her lush, full mouth. Even her throat looked beautiful, and he fought the urge to kiss the curve of her neck, which sloped down to her pert, high breasts encased so enticingly in the silvery silk.

“As a woman, I have to admit I’m fighting my primal instincts to keep my hands off you, too.” A mischievous smile danced in her eyes. “You look very hot in a tux.”

He chuckled. “I can’t encourage you to fight your instincts. I’m sure it’s far healthier to indulge them.”

“So you think I should give in to the urge to loosen your tie and collar?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” A slow smile crept across his mouth. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

His muscles tightened as she reached up and tugged at one side of his silk bow tie. He could smell the subtle scent of her skin. He loved that she never wore perfume, and why would she? Her natural aroma was as intoxicating as the finest fragrance.

Her fingertips brushed his skin as she unbuttoned his collar, and sent a shiver of rich desire rolling through him. This really wasn’t a good idea. He’d regretted sleeping with her the first time. It felt fantastic while they were writhing around on the bed together, but only moments later he was gripped by an agony of regret.

Why?

Right now he couldn’t think of one good reason why he shouldn’t be intimate with Annie Sullivan. They were both mature adults and in charge of their own destiny. He wasn’t forcing her into anything. She seemed to be enjoying this as much as he was, if her dazzled expression was anything to go by.

And if he could gauge her desire by the way her mouth was moving slowly, but inexorably toward his …

Their lips met in a slow collision, like two thunderstorms meeting out over the ocean. Rain and hail and lightning exploded inside him at the touch of her skin to his. His hands flew out and gripped her with force, holding her close as he’d ached to for days.

Her hot breath on his skin set his senses on fire. Her fingers reached into his hair, down his neck, over his shirt, moving with fevered anxiety echoed in his own body. Before he could stop himself he’d undone some of the buttons on the back of her dress and slid his fingers inside. Instead of historical corsetry they met smooth, bare skin.

“Are you naked under this dress?”

“Maybe.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “You’ll have to explore to find out.”

Her invitation tantalized him and worked like fresh oxygen on the flames of desire ripping through him. Undoing the buttons had loosened the shaped bodice, which softened its grip on her breasts.

Annie wasn’t shy about undressing him. She pushed his jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt with an intent concentration that made him want to laugh. “You must be hot after all that rowing,” she murmured as an excuse. The way she licked her lips, as if anticipating a treat, suggested a more delicious ulterior motive.

Already he was hard as the stone piers on the dock. The heat flushing his skin had more to do with anticipation than exertion. Having cracked open Annie’s demure shell once—or did he simply peel it away?—he knew that a sensual and passionate woman lay beneath her quiet and compliant exterior.

She tugged his shirt from his pants with a flourish and pulled it off, exposing his chest and arms to the balmy night air. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

“It does.” He kissed her gently. “Especially because now I can do this.” He pulled her closer, until her breasts spilled against the muscle of his chest, her taut nipples grazing his skin and shifting his arousal into high gear.

Their kiss deepened as they pressed against each other, skin to skin, surrounded by the whisper of trees and the gentle lapping of the water against the dock. For the first time in months—no, the second time—Sinclair felt a sense of peace and contentment well up inside him. Right here, right now, everything was perfect. Their kiss tasted like honey and fruit and champagne, tantalizing his taste buds and every other part of him.

Why did he feel this way with only Annie? He couldn’t remember enjoying the company of a woman so much. Was it pure sexual attraction?

He didn’t think so. There was something more substantial about the pleasure he felt in her company, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

He pulled back from their kiss, letting the night air cool his mouth before lowering it to her breasts. Her skin glowed in the silver moonlight, making her look like an ancient statue in a tempting state of undress. He licked her nipples, and enjoyed the little murmur of pleasure that escaped her lips. Her fingers roamed over the muscles of his back and arms, sparking little rivers of sensation that flowed through his body, and increasing the pressure building inside him like water behind a dam.

When Annie’s hands slid inside the waistband of his pants he flinched, responding powerfully to the increased sensation. “I want to make love to you.” It sounded so old-fashioned the way he said it, but he couldn’t think of a better way to express his desires or intentions.

“And I want you to make love to me.” She breathed it in his ear, hot and sultry. “Again.”

His eyes slid closed as memories of their first encounter met and mingled with the sensations and emotions of the present. He fumbled with the last of the buttons on her dress and it fell and pooled around her feet before she stepped out of it, wearing nothing but a delicate pair of flesh-toned panties. She looked totally unselfconscious, a glorious, timeless study in feminine beauty, standing on the hand-hewn limestone of the terrace. The moon dressed her in light and shadow that emphasized the full curve of her breasts and the sweet pear shape of her behind. He could sit and stare at her for an hour.

But, growing impatient, and with a glint in her eye, she slid his belt out of the buckle and soon he was also naked in the moonlight.

“Are you sure we’re alone here?” She glanced suddenly over her shoulder, into the dark woods on the edge of the lawn.

“There’s probably a crowd of admirers in the trees.” He let his fingers skate over the curve of her waist.

“You’re kidding.” Her eyes widened.

“But they’ll keep our secrets. They have other things to do, like feather their nests, and bury their acorns in the tree trunks.”

Her look of alarm mellowed into a smile. Then her expression grew more serious. “Is this going to be another secret?”

Her gaze hinted at a well of sadness beneath her lovely exterior. Guilt stabbed him for the way he’d pushed her aside after their surprise encounter. He’d been shocked at his own behavior. He was barely even divorced and already he’d pulled another woman into his bed. His emotions had been jolted out of the deep freeze and he didn’t know how he felt about anything. His first and only impulse had been to run and keep on running.

But all that running had led him right back here into Annie’s welcoming arms. “Only if you want it to be.”

She looked at him, her eyes clear and bright. “I don’t like secrets.”

“Me, either. Usually they make me worry about the SEC and insider trading accusations.” He watched the smile creep back onto her face. “But in this case it just seems unnecessary. We’re adults.”

“There’s no arguing with that.” She surveyed his body with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You’re certainly all man.”

His arousal pulsed stronger. His hands rested at her waist, and he pulled her gently to him and kissed her lips. “And you’re all woman.” He sighed as he ran his hands over the sweet curve of her backside. His erection pressed gently against the soft skin of her stomach, and throbbed with anticipation at finding an even more inviting and intimate hiding place.

Annie spread herself out on the elegant fabric, sheltered from the stars by an elaborate canopy. Her body looked like an invitation to sin, of the most enjoyable kind. Right now he must be the luckiest man alive.

Then a dark thought crossed his mind. “Now is probably not the ideal time to mention this, but I don’t have a condom.”

“Better now than afterwards.” She simply smiled and shifted herself into an even more delectable pose. “But don’t worry. I still have it covered.”

Thank heaven. He wasn’t sure if even a bracing plunge in Long Island Sound could take the edge off his current state of erotic tension. “That doesn’t surprise me, since you’re always prepared for everything.”

He climbed over her on the wide, cushioned sofa, sinking against her warm skin and drinking in her subtle fragrance. Her arms wrapped around his back, holding him close as she layered kisses over his face. He sighed at the luxurious sensation of her body in his arms, and the ever growing ache inside him so close to being soothed.

Being with Annie felt utterly different from any encounter in his life before and he really had no idea why. Naturally a thinker, he’d usually be able to puzzle it out, but right now he didn’t want to think at all. It was enough to just feel—in his body and in his heart.

He entered her slowly, kissing her inviting mouth. They moved together in a hypnotic rhythm, her soft sighs music that made his heart fill with joy. He loved the sensation of her hands on his body, even her nails digging into his flesh as the fever of their passion gripped her.

Lithe and agile, she moved with him on the lush, upholstered sofa. Astride him, she took him to new heights of agonized pleasure. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand another second without exploding, she pulled back, a sly smile on her face, and shifted so that he was on top of her again.

He managed to roll over without losing his safe place deep inside her. Every inch of his body, every muscle and corpuscle, throbbed with intensity. Half of him wanted to climax and end the delicious agony, the other half wanted it to continue forever. To keep them both suspended in a blissful half-life of sensual pleasure.

Would they both regret this in the morning, when the champagne would wear off and the silver moonlight be replaced by blinding rays of harsh sun?

“I won’t regret this.”

Her rasped words startled him. She’d spoken as if she could read his thoughts. “I won’t, either.”

“Whatever happens next, we’ll always have this moment.” With her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms tight around his neck, Annie held him with force. The heat of her arousal, compounded with his own, threatened to make sparks in the air. “And I won’t forget it.”

A threat or a promise, her words drove him those last few miles out into the realm where worldly cares and concerns evaporated and there was nothing but right now. They shared a climax so forceful it almost threw them onto the stone terrace, and he had to brace with his arms to keep them on the cushions.

Panting, gasping and holding on for dear life, they floated back down to earth together, chests heaving against each other.

“Why does that feel so good?” Annie’s question, after a long silence, made him laugh.

“Because if it didn’t there wouldn’t be any people on earth. If having sex was like brushing your teeth people wouldn’t bother.”

“You don’t brush your teeth?” Her eyes sparkled with both passion and humor.

“I’m the kind of person who does stuff out of a sense of duty.”

“I like that about you.”

“I can tell. You’re the same. I bet you never go to bed without brushing your teeth.”

“Am I that easy to read?” She pouted, or tried to, despite the smile tugging at her mouth.

“Yes, you’re an open book.”

Her smile faded slightly and a thoughtful look darkened her gaze. “Am I really? Did you know all along that I’ve … had a thing for you?”

He didn’t know that. It hadn’t crossed his mind that she felt that way about him. She’d simply been an excellent employee to him. How did you say that without sounding rude? “Something rendered me blind to your charms until our trip up to the attic. I don’t know why, because you’ve been the same ravishing beauty—cunningly disguised by L.L. Bean—haunting my house for years.”

She frowned slightly. “How odd that the trip up to the attic changed everything.”

“My mom would say it’s fate. Something mystical is happening.” He spoke in a deliberately mysterious tone.

Annie glanced around, still holding tight to his body. “I kind of feel that way, too. I’m not sure I would have ever dared to do … something like this before.”

“Have hot, wild sex on a stranger’s patio?”

“Pretty much. And with my boss, too. In fact I can’t believe we’re lying here naked under the moon.”

“I know. There’s a chill in the air.” He pretended to hold her closer, like a blanket.

“Is there? I can’t feel it. But then I’m glowing all over, thanks to you.”

She was glowing. Her eyes, her skin, her whole spirit radiated joy, good health and happiness. And he had the power to increase or destroy that happiness.

A dark shadow crept across his heart. He didn’t know how to keep a woman happy. He could make it past the wedding, past the honeymoon, and then, somehow, it all fell apart.

But maybe, with Annie, it could be different.

He jolted upright. Was he seriously thinking about embarking on another relationship so soon after the disastrous failure of his second marriage? And if he wasn’t, what the heck was he doing here with this beautiful and sweet woman naked in his arms?

“What’s the matter?” The concern in her voice wrung his soul.

“I’m not naturally suited to living in the present.”

She stroked his cheek. Her serious expression didn’t mock his doubts and worries. She seemed to silently accept them. “I usually live in the future. I go through the motions in the present, rinsing lettuce and making beds, but my mind and spirit are way ahead in ‘one day’ land.”

He frowned. He was good at living on the edge and going with the flow in business, but his personal life was a whole other story. “I suspect I tend to lag behind in ‘if only’ territory.”

“Then there’s obviously no hope for us, is there?” She spoke brightly, but there was an undercurrent of sadness to her tone.

“Either that, or we’ll have to save each other and only live in the present from now on.” A fresh flame of hope—or was it simply desire—roared through him, and he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. She kissed him back hard, gripping him as if sheer strength and determination could hold them here, at least for a few moments longer.

When their lips finally parted he felt breathless and light-headed.

“I hate to live in the future as usual, but we’d better get back to the party before it ends or our driver will wonder what happened to us.” Annie’s soft voice tugged him back to the present.

“You’re right.” He stretched, easing against Annie’s warm body. “Though it pains me to put clothes back on when I feel so comfortable without them.”

“I like putting my dress back on. I never know what’s going to happen when I put on one of the dresses from that trunk.”

“Or maybe you do know what’s going to happen now. There’s a definite theme.” He traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. Her lip quivered as he drew close. “Involving me taking the dresses off.”

They put their clothes on and climbed—gingerly—into the boat. The journey back to the party seemed so much quicker than the trip out, maybe because of the way the current was flowing. Or maybe because he hated to see their evening together end. He had an unsettling feeling that everything would be different once they got back to the mundane world of other people and their cares.