The Aristocrat and the Single Mom (7 page)

He couldn’t help but follow her back outside.

She pointed to the steps. ‘Now would be a good time to check out the upper deck if you wanted to.’

Then she leapt down to the pier with all her easy grace and all Simon was left with was the scent of her and the creaking of the boat.

He took the steps up. The top deck boasted three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views. A fibreglass roof canopy provided shade. Padded benches that ran around the sides provided the only seating but six floor-to-ceiling poles provided anchorage points for those who wanted to stand. He moved to stand beside the wheel and controls and imagined Kate there, looking shipshape and perfect.

Laughter and voices drifted up to him. He glanced down and was caught by the sight of Kate. Kate in the sun with her blonde ponytail shining and a smile on her face as she welcomed her passengers. He stared at her for a long moment, then made his way back downstairs and took up a station beside Archie at the bar for the first dolphin tour of the day.

At the end of the first tour, Kate and Jesse jumped down to the pier. Simon wanted to follow them but something in the set of Kate’s shoulders warned him not to.

It was the same something that had kept him at arm’s length all morning. Dammit! He knew he couldn’t kiss her, make love with her or flirt with her, but couldn’t she at least smile at him? He was still the same guy she’d joked around with yesterday, even if he wasn’t any good with children.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from following her. In the strong midday light, she gleamed golden and navy. Navy—the colour of her uniform of cropped linen trousers and polo shirt with
The Merry Dolphin
emblem embossed on the pocket. Golden—the colour of her hair, her skin…her smile.

And she was smiling, he realised with a start, but it sure as hell wasn’t at him. The person she smiled at was some blond,
muscular surfer type who grinned and waved as she strolled towards him. Anger he didn’t understand clenched Simon’s gut.

Jesse raced up to the man and was swung up in a hug. From where he stood behind the bar, Simon could hear Jesse’s laughter.

Jesse’s father?

It wasn’t relief that poured through him, though. Not when the man bent down and planted a kiss on Kate’s golden cheek and gave her a one-armed hug. Simon leant his forearms on the bar and clenched his hands, fought the urge to pulverise this blond, muscular surfer type who looked so bloody…
perfect
…beside Kate.

‘That there’s Paul,’ Archie said.

He glanced down at Simon’s hands. Simon straightened and shoved them in his pockets.

‘He’s Jesse’s dad. Nice bloke.’

Simon nodded. He couldn’t manage anything else. He had no right to this possessiveness, this…jealousy. But knowing it and making himself feel it, he found, were two very different things.

‘Kate and Paul are good friends.’ Archie’s faded blue eyes considered Simon shrewdly. ‘But there isn’t anything between them now. Hasn’t been for a long time.’

Simon gave a terse, ‘It’s none of my business.’

‘Is that so?’ The older man chuckled. ‘Seems to me you’re wishing mightily that it were.’

Simon stared out at Kate, Paul and Jesse. What was the word she’d used yesterday?

Bingo?

Tour Two. Simon gritted his teeth. How much tea and coffee did a guy have to make before he’d earned one measly smile?

Fair enough, on that first tour when he’d been downstairs and Kate had been upstairs—he’d spent that tour concentrating on the running commentary she’d given through the PA system.
He’d lost himself in identifying the different tones of light and shade in her voice.

But they were halfway through the second tour now and she and Archie had switched places. She was standing right beside him behind the bar and she wouldn’t even look at him, let alone smile at him. She didn’t even have the excuse of thirsty customers at the moment. The passengers were all too busy staring out of the windows, oohing and aahing over dolphins.

She filled his vision and yet she wouldn’t even spare him a smile.

‘You certainly like to give a guy the silent treatment when you’re ticked off with him, don’t you?’

The words burst out of him and when her jaw dropped a grim satisfaction threaded through him. Any reaction was better than none.

She tried to edge away, but there wasn’t much room for edging behind the bar. So she folded her arms and glared at him instead. ‘I’m not ticked off.’

He snorted. ‘Then I’d hate to see the real thing.’

He wanted to seize her by the shoulders and shake her, order her to smile. He pinched the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. Why the hell did it matter so much?

She gestured to the speakers. ‘I thought you might like to listen to Archie’s commentary.’

‘Why on earth would I want to do that? I listened to yours, didn’t I? I know we’re heading around into Shoal Bay, that across the way is Hawkes Nest and Tea Gardens. I know dolphins have a life span of forty to forty-five years and that they eat six to eight kilos of fish a day!’

She blinked.

He wanted to smash his hand down on the bar between them. If he’d just played cricket with Jesse yesterday she’d be laughing and smiling and joking with him now. She might even have let him kiss her again.

If only he’d played cricket with Jesse…

The blood in his veins turned to ice. He could not have played cricket with Jesse. Not on the beach. Not on his own. It was pointless pretending otherwise.

He put the thought away. She was right to pull back from him.

‘Excuse me, mate, but you wouldn’t happen to know the latest test score, would you?’

A passenger—in his mid-sixties, Simon guessed—had sidled away from his wife to shoot the question out the corner of his mouth.

‘Don’t ask him.’ Kate’s voice dripped with scorn. ‘He wouldn’t have a clue. He doesn’t even like cricket.’

Yes, he did. Just because—

‘Ricky Ponting is only eight runs off his ton,’ she said, flipping out her cell phone and glancing at the screen. ‘The Aussies are four for two hundred and ninety-seven.’ She snapped it shut again. ‘Looks like we’re going to post a nice total.’

‘Cheers, love.’ The man shot her a grin and with a thumbs-up sidled back over to his wife.

‘That wasn’t fair,’ Simon spluttered.

‘No?’ She raised a mock-concerned eyebrow. ‘Sorry, my mistake.’

She turned away, clearly dismissing him. Again. He closed his eyes, dragging in a breath, and that was when her scent hit him. She smelt like sunflowers. Against a backdrop of sea, salt and coconut-scented sunscreen, it was strangely erotic. It drenched his senses, soaked through his skin and into his blood. His stomach dissolved. Other parts of him started to harden. His mouth went dry.

He forced his eyes open again. He had to get a grip. ‘Look,’ he managed to grind out, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t play cricket with Jesse yesterday, all right? But I had phone calls to make and emails to send. I run an estate. It’s not like my absence won’t go unnoticed. I had to make…arrangements.’

He knew he was making excuses. He just hoped she’d buy them.

‘Phone calls that couldn’t wait for half an hour?’ she snapped without turning around.

‘And I was jet lagged.’ He was fighting a losing battle.

She swung back then, hands on hips. ‘Fine! But Jesse didn’t see it that way.’

He straightened. How the hell was he supposed to read some child’s mind? She looked as if she wanted to take a swipe at him. She looked gorgeous. He gave in. ‘How did Jesse see it?’

‘He loves Felice. He and Felice play cricket and football on the beach all the time. He just wanted to have a laugh with her brother, that’s all.’

He shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t understand children at all, and this just went to prove he should stay well away from them.

‘But you know what, Simon? It’s not the fact that you wouldn’t play cricket with Jesse.’

Now he wasn’t getting her either.

‘It’s the way you turned him down!’

The way he’d…

She poked him in the chest, her frustration clear, but the moment her finger connected with him, she stilled. He stilled. He watched the way her eyes travelled over his chest and everything inside him clenched.

‘Kate!’

She pulled her hand away, stepping back as far as the dimensions of the bar would allow, but the things inside him didn’t unclench. When he met her eyes, those things inside him clenched even harder. She wanted him. Still. She was as aware of him as he was of her. It was eating her up too.

Impossible. This was impossible.

He would not be good for this woman. And she would not be good for him. He had to drag his mind from thoughts of kissing her, of sweeping her up against him and making love to her where they stood, and back to…

Her son. Jesse.

She blinked and he realised he’d said Jesse’s name out loud. ‘You said something about the way I turned him down?’ The words emerged on a growl, but he couldn’t help it.

‘Yes, the way you turned him down.’ Her eyes took on the full ferocity of another glare. She opened her mouth but no sound came out, as if something in his face had stalled her. She frowned. ‘You don’t even remember, do you?’

He tried to think back. He remembered a blinding flash of panic, that was about all.

‘You had this look of absolute horror on your face and you boomed out this big ‘No!’ If that’s not designed to frighten a child, I don’t know what will.’

She was right, he didn’t remember. Jet lag wouldn’t get him off the hook here.

‘How would you have felt if I’d reacted like that when you asked me out for dinner?’

He remembered how he’d felt when she’d ordered him to cancel, and found his answer.

‘It’d be unforgivable. Don’t you think children deserve common courtesy?’

He was appalled at the picture she painted. Had he really been that abrupt? ‘I am honestly sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt Jesse’s feelings or to frighten him. I…’ He didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t want to explain it. But he couldn’t excuse his behaviour, not even to himself. ‘I’ll apologise to Jesse.’ It was the least he could do.

‘No, you won’t. You’ll stay away from my son. I don’t want the likes of you confusing him, messing with his head. He’s seven. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t need that.’

And Simon knew she was right.

‘All right.’ He nodded though his head had never felt so heavy. ‘I’m not trying to mess with anyone’s head. I don’t want to hurt anyone.’

But she’d turned away and he doubted she’d heard him.

She was right in that too, because what one meant to do and what one did weren’t always the same thing.

Tour Three. A headache throbbed at Kate’s temples and behind her eyes as she switched off the PA system, her commentary finally at an end. Simon’s scent clogged up her senses and she wondered if this day would ever end.

She told herself she was glad Jesse was spending the next few days with his dad. It would get him out of the house and away from the God-awful tension between her and Simon. That kind of tension couldn’t be good for anyone. She had a feeling she’d be a testament to that fact in a couple of days’ time.

With Jesse at Paul’s, it meant she didn’t have to keep up a bright flow of chatter for Jesse’s benefit. For a while there this morning she’d been in danger of flagging and that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.

With Jesse at Paul’s he wouldn’t be subjected to any more of Simon’s snubs.

She recalled the look of…of almost nausea that had crossed Simon’s face when she’d taken him to task about that. It was as if he hadn’t had any comprehension whatsoever of how his rejection might’ve hurt Jesse. And when he’d realised…

No, she wouldn’t think about that. Her instincts about this man were all wrong. She refused to trust them. She steered
The Merry Dolphin
out into the middle of the bay, away from other boats, away from other obstacles.

The only problem with Jesse staying at Paul’s? It left her and Simon in the house together. Alone. Without Jesse as a buffer.

Or a reminder.

She swallowed. She wouldn’t panic. She just had to remember Simon was a lord who didn’t like kids, and she was a single mum who did. She tried to fix his look of utter horror in her mind, the one that had slammed into place when she’d suggested he play cricket with Jesse, but it shifted, replaced by his
look of nausea when he’d realized he’d hurt her son’s feelings. An expression that told her she might have misjudged him.

An expression that lied.

She realised she was scowling and hastily pasted on another smile as she scanned the bay for any last sightings of dolphins. Ten more minutes and she could steer
The Merry Dolphin
back to the marina.

She glanced around at her passengers—holiday-makers enjoying the sun, the fresh air and the sense of freedom weekends brought. She tried to pull some of that into her psyche, but it didn’t work. It didn’t seem to be working for at least one of her passengers either. Mr Kennedy looked decidedly green around the gills.

She slowed
The Merry Dolphin
’s speed, adjusted the steering a fraction to smooth out the ride. She cast another glance at Mr Kennedy. She kept a close watch for signs of seasickness in her passengers. Normally. Today the bay was calm, and
The Merry Dolphin
was steady and sturdy but, as her father used to say, some people got seasick in the bath tub.

Mrs Kennedy stared merrily out at the view, oblivious to her husband’s distress. Strain deepened the creases around Mr Kennedy’s mouth and he turned a sickly shade of grey. She caught his gaze and pointed to the lined paper bags she kept on a shelf beneath the controls. He shook his head.

‘We’ll be back at the marina in under ten minutes,’ she assured him. ‘The breeze in your face might help.’ She pointed towards the back of the boat to several spare seats. ‘Some people swear by it.’ Up here at the front, near the wheel and controls, Kate and the passengers closest were protected from the weather by a bank of Perspex windows.

He nodded and rose, and the last of the colour left his face. With a groan, he clutched his chest and pitched forward.