Barbara Dunlop - Twelve Nights Of Temptation

He’d been impressed by her thorough, methodical approach. But in the end, she concluded that she needed to check the engine herself. There was nothing to do for the next three hours but make their way to Tyree.

It was obvious she was ready to blame herself.

But even if the breakdown turned out to be her fault, it wasn’t the end of the world. And they didn’t even know what had happened. It was way too early to start pointing fingers.

“You should lie down for a while,” he told her.

She looked tired, and there was no point in both of them staying up all night.

“I’m fine.” She lifted her chin, gazing out the windshield into the starry night.

There were clusters of lights along the shore, only a few other ships in the distance, and his GPS and charts were top-notch. It was an easy chore to pilot the boat single-handed.

“You don’t have to keep me company.”

“And you don’t have to coddle me.”

“You have absolutely nothing to prove, Tasha.” He knew she took pride in her work, and he knew she was determined to do a good job after her promotion. But sleep deprivation wasn’t a job requirement.

“I’m not trying to prove anything. Did you get any sleep at all? Do you want to lie down?”

“I’m fine.” He knew she was perfectly capable of piloting the boat, but he’d feel guilty leaving all the work to her.

“No need for us both to stay awake,” she said.

“My date ended early. I slept a little.”

Since his divorce had been finalized, Matt and his friend TJ Bauer had hit the Olympia social circuit. They were pushing each other to get out and meet new people. They met a few women, most were nice, but he hadn’t felt a spark with any of them, including the one he’d taken out tonight. He’d come home early, done a little Christmas shopping online for his nieces and nephews and dozed off on the sofa.

“You don’t need to tell me about your dates,” Tasha said.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Her tone was lighter. It sounded like she was joking. “It might help pass the time.”

“Sorry,” he said lightly in return. “I wish I could be more entertaining. What about you?” he asked.

As he voiced the question, he found himself curious about Tasha’s love life. Did she have a boyfriend? Did she date? She was always such a no-nonsense fixture at the marina, he didn’t think of her beyond being a valued employee.

“What about me?” she asked.

“Do you ever go out?”

“Out where?”

“Out, out. On-a-date out. Dinner, dancing...”

She scoffed out a laugh.

“Is that a no?”

“That’s a no.”

“Why not?” Now he was really curious. She might dress in plain T-shirts and cargo pants, but underneath what struck him now as a disguise, she was a lovely woman. “Don’t you like to dress up? Do you ever dress up?”

He tried to remember if he’d ever seen her in anything stylish. He couldn’t, and he was pretty sure he’d remember.

She shifted on the swivel chair, angling toward him. “Why the third degree?”

“Since stories of my dates won’t distract us, I thought maybe yours could.” He found himself scrutinizing her face from an objective point of view.

She had startling green eyes, the vivid color of emeralds or a glacial, deep-water pond. They were framed in thick lashes. Her cheekbones were high. Her chin was the perfect angle. Her nose was narrow, almost delicate. And her lips were deep coral, the bottom slightly fuller than the top.

He wanted to kiss them.

“Nothing to tell,” she said. Her voice jolted him back to reality, and he turned to the windshield, rewinding the conversation.

“You must dress up sometimes.”

“I prefer to focus on work.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s satisfying.” Her answer didn’t ring true.

He owned the company, and he still found time for a social life. “I dress up. I date. I still find time to work.”

She made a motion with her hand, indicating up and down his body. “Of course you date. A guy like you is definitely going to date.”

He had no idea what she meant. “A guy like me?”

“Good-looking. Rich. Eligible.”

“Good-looking?” He was surprised that she thought so, even more surprised that she’d said so.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not me, Matt. The world thinks you’re good-looking. Don’t pretend you’ve never noticed.”

He’d never given it much thought. Looks were so much a matter of taste. He was fairly average. He’d never thought there was anything wrong with being average.

“I’m eligible now,” he said.

The rich part was also debatable. He hadn’t had enough money to satisfy his ex-wife. And now that they’d divorced, he had even less. He’d borrowed money to pay her out, and he was going to have to work hard over the next year or two to get back to a comfortable financial position.

“And so are you,” he said to Tasha. “You’re intelligent, hardworking and pretty. You should definitely be out there dating.”

He couldn’t help but compare her with the women he’d met lately. The truth was, they couldn’t hold a candle to her. There was so much about her that was compelling. Funny that he’d never noticed before.

“Dazzle them with your intelligence and hard work.”

“Can we not do this?” she asked.

“Make conversation?”

“I’m a licensed marine mechanic. And I want people to take me seriously as that.”

“You can’t do both?”

“Not in my experience.” She slipped down from the high white leather chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He didn’t want her to leave.

“I’m going to take your advice.”

“What advice is that?”

“I’m going to lie down and rest.” She glanced at her watch. “You think two hours?”

“I didn’t mean to chase you away.”

“You didn’t.”

“We don’t have to talk about dating.” But then he took in her pursed lips and realized he still wanted to kiss them. Where was this impulse coming from?

“I have work to do when we get there.”

He realized he’d be selfish to stop her. “You’re right. You should get some sleep.”

As she walked away, he considered the implications of being attracted to an employee. He couldn’t act on it. He shouldn’t act on it.

Then he laughed at himself. It wasn’t like she’d given him any encouragement. Well, other than saying he was good-looking.

She thought he was good-looking.

As he piloted his way along the dark coastline, he couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

Tasha’s problem wasn’t dating in general. Her problem was the thought of dating Matt. He wasn’t her type. There was no way he was her type. She knew that for an absolute fact.

She’d dated guys like him before—capable, confident, secure in the knowledge that the world rolled itself out at their feet. She knew all that. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from dreaming about him.

They’d arrived off Tyree and boarded Orca’s Run shortly after dawn. Tall and confident, he’d greeted the clients like he owned the place—which he did, of course.

Tasha had kept to the background, making sure her toolbox was moved discreetly on board, while Matt had charmed the family, apologizing for the delay in the trip, offering Monty’s Pride as a replacement, explaining that the larger, faster yacht would easily make up the time they’d lost overnight.

It was obvious the client was delighted with the solution, and Tasha had turned her attention to the diesel engine. It took her over an hour to discover the water separator was the problem. In an unlikely coincidence, the water-in-fuel indicator light bulb had also broken. Otherwise, it would have alerted her to the fact that the water separator was full, starving the engine of fuel.