Kara Lennox - Reluctant Partners

“Suspicious that I want something from you?”

“Exactly.”

He walked slowly toward her, his gaze focused on her full lips. “I do want something from you. But I don’t need to resort to false flattery. You are beautiful, and I refuse to believe no one has told you that before.”

As he drew even closer, her eyes got that deer-in-head-lights look about them. “N-no one I’d trust.”

He pushed her gently against the wall. She tried to evade his kiss, but he held her chin between his fingers and found his mark, kissing her sweet-glossed lips until he had her full attention. She smelled like the hotel bubble bath, which didn’t surprise him since she’d soaked for a good hour after they returned to their suite. The skin of her bare shoulders was smooth as a river stone but a lot softer and warmer.

Allie made a small noise of protest in the back of her throat, and he reluctantly dragged his mouth from hers. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not-”

He cut her off with another kiss, this time cupping one breast in his hand. She had the most incredible breasts in the universe. “You’re beautiful,” he said again. “Are you questioning my judgment and taste?”

“But you just-”

“Yes, I want to take you to bed. Do you think I take ugly women to bed?”

That made her laugh. “Probably not as a rule.”

“Okay, then.”

“So looks are the only criteria?” she asked.

“That is another argument entirely, and I’m not prepared to educate you on my dating and bedding criteria. Suffice it to say I want to take you to bed, and not only because you’re beautiful.”

“What other reason is there?” she asked as he kissed her neck.

“It might surprise you to know that I’m attracted to women who have both beauty and brains. And passion. And a sense of humor. If all I cared about was looks, I could have had Candy.”

Allie stiffened in his arms. “It’s not too late.”

“You’re being deliberately obtuse. I want you. Not Candy.”

She put her arm around his neck and stared into his eyes, her moist lips slightly parted, her gaze heavy-lidded. “Then let’s ditch the party.”

“Duty before pleasure, my lovely. But now we have something to look forward to, yes?”

He kissed her one more time, for good measure, and this time she gave as good as she got. He released her only reluctantly. “You might want to touch up your lipstick.”

“You might also.”

THE YACHT CLUB PARTY was on the top floor of one of Houston’s most elegant hotels, complete with crystal chandeliers and roaming, tuxedoed wait staff bearing trays of champagne and caviar hors d’oeuvres. Such events were old hat to Cooper, but not Allie. He enjoyed watching her face as she took it all in, her eyes as wide as a child’s on Christmas morning.

“You might want to close your mouth before the flies get in,” he whispered in her ear. He’d slid an arm around her waist the moment they’d stepped off the elevator and he intended to keep her by his side. If any predatory men at this party thought they could make a meal of Allie, he would be sure they knew she was his.

No, not his. He suspected Allie would never belong to any man, especially not him. But so long as they were partners, she was under his protection and no one was going to take advantage of her.

Allie clamped her mouth closed. “I’m underdressed.”

She was the most beautiful woman in the room, but he’d told her that sort of thing enough for one night. “You look fine.” He snagged two glasses of champagne and handed one to Allie.

She took an experimental sip. “Wow.”

“This definitely isn’t the stuff you can buy for $5.99 a bottle at the corner liquor store,” he agreed after his own taste.

“I want to try the snacks,” she said. “I’m guessing they’re something special, too.” She looked around. “No one else is eating. Maybe rich people think it’s gauche to actually eat at a party.”

He wasn’t sure if the “aw shucks” act was real, or if she was subtly taking a dig at him, reminding him of the difference in their backgrounds. “You can eat the snacks and no one will think you’re gauche as long as you take small bites and don’t stuff extras down your cleavage for later.”

“No need for that. I’m so hungry I’ll probably eat everything in sight.” Despite her threat, she got herself a plate from a buffet line, then only put two small canapés on it. She tasted one, then another, looking thoughtful.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked.

“I’ll stick to the champagne,” she said. “I can make better appetizers than these.”

“Really?” Again, he considered what a boon it would be if Allie could work for him-long-term, not just until the Dragonfly was back in the water.

She shrugged. “If I can get the right ingredients and I have time.”

“What about cooking facilities?” he asked. “Are the Dragonfly ’s adequate for fancy cooking?”

Another shrug. “There’s an oven, a grill and a cooktop, a few pans and utensils. A gourmet seven-course meal is beyond my capabilities, but I can do better than cold cuts. Why are you asking me this? ’Cause much as I love to cook, you aren’t demoting me to galley slave.”

“Don’t get all defensive on me. I’m just wondering what is and isn’t possible. Our brochures do say something about gourmet food.”

“And I did caution you about making excessive promises.”

They couldn’t continue the argument because Jim Jameson, president of the yacht club, had spotted Cooper and was making a beeline for him. Stuck to his arm was an obvious trophy wife, maybe thirty years old to his fifty-plus.

“Remington!” he bellowed. “Glad you could make it. And this must be your girl.”

Cooper felt Allie stiffen beside him even as she extended a hand toward the other man.

“I’m Allie Bateman, Cooper’s partner,” she corrected gently.

Jim smiled slyly as he took Allie’s hand and, rather than shaking it, brought it to his lips. “Oh, I get it. You all have one of those modern arrangements. Don’t want to be tied down, eh?”

Allie snatched her hand back, her green eyes sparkling dangerously. “No, Mr. Jameson, I don’t believe you do get it. Cooper and I are business partners. I’m not his wife or girlfriend or plaything.”

Cooper cringed inwardly. Although it was refreshing to see Allie go off on someone besides Cooper for a change, Jim Jameson wasn’t someone she should be insulting. The man was powerful, a millionaire half-a-dozen times over, and he could open doors for them.

Thankfully, Jim didn’t seem to be easily offended. “Of course, of course,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply anything unseemly. You two come with me, there’s people I want you to meet.” He offered Allie his arm, and she reluctantly took it, giving Cooper an annoyed eye roll over her shoulder as she and Jim walked off, leading the way. Cooper gave his arm to the trophy wife and followed.

The next few minutes were given over to meeting and greeting some of the Gulf Coast Yacht Club’s elite. Once Allie relaxed a bit, she became the belle of the ball. A few of the men had heard of her, as females running fishing charters were pretty rare. She didn’t seem ill at ease, even when confronted by wives dripping in diamonds who sensed her lack of sophistication and, perhaps feeling threatened by her youth and beauty, tried to put her down.

But she didn’t let them get to her. Her small-town ways were charming, and Cooper found himself silently cheering her on as she made friends of the women and impressed the men with her knowledge of sailing and fishing.

She managed to subtly turn away flirtations without ruffling any feathers, which left Cooper feeling more relieved than he ought to. If she met some billionaire playboy who could set her up on her own boat, it would soften the blow of losing the Dragonfly -if she did lose. Maybe she’d even release her claim on the boat. But the thought of Allie in the arms of another man made his blood turn to steam.