When Prescott left, Mitchell leaned back in his chair and watched a flock of seagulls wheeling in circles overhead, his thoughts drifting to his extraordinary behavior with Kate Donovan the night before.
This morning, in the bright light of day, he was amused and a little embarrassed by the lengths he’d gone to to please her. When she’d asked him to help a stray mongrel, he’d promptly summoned an ambulance and physician and then volunteered to help take the dog to a vet. Later, when she refused to sleep with him or see him again unless he told her about himself, she’d been giving him an ultimatum, and he’d known it at the time. He’d known it, he’d refused to be manipulated, and he’d left—exactly as he should have done. But then, driven by the severest case of brain-numbing lust in his recollection, he gave in and went back to answer her questions. And if that weren’t strange enough, he’d then suffered an unprecedented attack of comical chivalry and decidednot to take her to bed in her boyfriend’s hotel room, but to wait until today and take her to a hotel in St. Maarten instead.
That particular decision to wait was doubly bizarre in view of the fact that he’d been needlessly and outrageously blunt with her all evening about his intentions to sleep with her. In hindsight, most of his behavior the night before was baffling and yet, not entirely. Minutes after he’d arrived at her hotel last night, everything about her began to resonate with him.
At least, that’s how he’d felt yesterday. But this was today, and without the moonlight and music—without the combination of circumstances that had made the night before seem somehow momentous—it was possible the ” would be gone. Right now, Mitchell wasn’t completely certain which way he wanted it to be. Ever since his brother and his family had arrived in London, Mitchell had felt at times that he was getting ” inside, and it was an alien and rather disturbing sensation. First William had gotten to him; then he’d let his aunt Olivia get under his skin, and he’d even shaken his grandfather’s hand. Now, a redheaded Irish girl was getting to him.
In the midst of that thought, Mitchell noticed another ferryboat headed straight toward the yacht. Instead of reaching for his newspaper, he reached for a slice of toast, tore off a piece, and tossed it overboard. Seagulls screeched and dove. He tossed four more pieces overboard, and white gulls came from everywhere.
and gentlemen,”the ferry captain’s voice blasted out. you’re fans of the movie actor Zack Benedict . . .”
Mitchell flipped two more pieces of toast overboard, and seagulls rained down out of the sky, screeching and diving.
“. . . Get your cameras ready . . .”
Mitchell picked up the rest of the toast and slowly flipped the slices overboard one at a time. Seagulls by the hundreds descended in a thick curtain of gray and white.
“. . . Look out for the gulls . . .”
Mitchell glanced at his watch and pushed his chair back. He still had to pack an overnight case.
Shielded from the ferry’s view by flocks of frenzied gulls, he strolled across the deck.
KATE’S DARK BLUEsuitcase lay at the foot of the bed, packed and ready.
From the white sofa in the sitting room, she idly petted Max’s head while she stared at that piece of luggage and nervously tried to recapture the emotions she’d had last night—emotions that had made it seem completely appropriate and perfectly right for her to agree to spend the night with him. This morning, what she was planning to do seemed a little insane.
She thought about how overjoyed she’d felt last night when Mitchell walked up behind her in the garden and told her, brother’s name was William.” In retrospect, she’d apparently become totally besotted with a man merely because he’d been reluctantly willing to mention a few facts about his brother and to reveal the languages he spoke. That made no sense at all.
Obviously she’d been absurdly affected by the setting they were in—the setting, combined with his fantastic good looks and his urbane charm, had evidently seduced her—which was exactly what he’d intended to happen. From early in the evening, he’d made it abundantly clear that seduction was on his mind:I’m less dismayed than I’d be if you told me you’re a nun. . . . I want to be sure we’re on the same page. . . . But I do intend to ravish you.
Even the way he kissed was deliberately seductive. Those slow, stirring kisses that turned hot and demanding—the suggestive way he’d held her hips clamped against his rigid thighs while he kissed her. That was kissing with a single-minded, unmistakable goal, she realized. However, she was not foolish enough to feel honor-bound to sleep with him just because she’d agreed to do it last night.
After Mitchell left, she’d been too nervous and excited to sleep, so she’d sorted through the clothes she’d brought with her, trying to put together outfits that would be exactly right, no matter what Mitchell decided they should do while they were together. By the time she was finished, it was nearly threeAM , and several outfits were neatly laid out beside her suitcase, including shoes, handbags, bracelets, and earrings. The only thing she hadn’t decided on was what she should be wearing when he arrived to pick her up and how to wear her hair.
This morning, she’d been too preoccupied to worry about her appearance. Instead of fussing with her hair, she’d pulled it up into a ponytail, and she’d chosen the first articles of clothing she noticed when she opened her closet door—a pair of jeans, a white, short-sleeved T-shirt, and leather sandals.
With a nervous sigh, Kate leaned down and ruffled the short hair on Max’s head. is all your fault,” she joked. because he helped me rescue you and then arranged for some flea powder, I felt obliged to sleep with him—”
She broke off as three short, solid knocks sounded on the villa’s front door. Max rolled to his feet and walked beside her, trailing the makeshift ” she’d created by tying two belts together from the white terry-cloth robes the hotel provided to its guests.
She glanced at her watch. It was exactly ten o’clock.
Chapter Thirteen
WITH HER HANDon the doorknob, Kate hesitated, nervously bracing herself to confront the virtual stranger she’d agreed, in a moment of obvious insanity, to spend the night with. She fixed a bright smile on her face, and on the chance he intended to kiss her hello, she purposely took three steps backward while pulling the door open.
Mitchell’s tall, wide-shouldered frame loomed in the doorway. Clad in casual black slacks and a black polo shirt that deepened his tan and turned his eyes the color of blue steel, he looked lethally handsome and incredibly sexy.