Take a Chance on Me Page 7

  ‘You’re a nutter.’

  ‘Ooh, say I’m a loser too, and that completes the set.’

  Sadie felt good. Good to be flirting again. Good to be on a date with such a hot man. And maybe because tonight she wasn’t being Sadie, she was being ‘Sam’…

  She liked the way she fitted under his arm. And the way the pressure was off. No high expectations from tonight. It was what it was. And he was what he was – a simple deckhand, and he seemed very proud of it. Unlike some of the chancers she’d dated before she got married – all full of themselves, striving to be someone, to get somewhere, and failing miserably. This man was so different. Even more relaxed around her than her ex-husband Stuart had been. Two children too late, she’d found out that his carefree attitude was only because he was a man who couldn’t give a monkey’s about anyone but himself.

  Unlike her Hot Boat Guy, who didn’t seem to be bothered about his looks at all. He hadn’t even shaved for tonight.

  Unlike Sadie.

  Unusually, Sadie didn’t mind Mac’s designer stubble. In fact she liked it – a lot. She liked him – a lot.

  As she listened to another one of his funny ‘life at sea’ anecdotes, she wondered who else had felt the same about Mac through the years. There must have been a broken heart somewhere down the line, perhaps that’s when he stopped making ‘those plans’. But she just couldn’t see him as a player. It was simple, honest attraction, with no games, no holding back and no deception, just the way she liked it. ‘Honesty’ wasn’t tattooed in Chinese on her lower back for nothing. Well, apart from the little white lie about her name.

  But he’d never know, would he.

  She smiled as they spoke, aware that he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth, or his arm off her shoulder. He’d even angled himself completely away from the rest of the room – everyone else could only see his back – he was giving her his total attention. In fact, much of the night, his gaze never left her face, apart from the occasional look over his shoulder and a scan of the crowd in a way Sadie found curious. Maybe he expected to see someone from the boat …

  Mac was on the lookout. Old habit. Just in case anyone saw him – anyone he had to avoid. Usually female. There was a close call when a group of glamorous model-types stumbled past on their way to the VIP area on the other side of the bar, just as Mac turned round. One of them, in a tight red dress, did a double-take. Mac dipped his head quickly, but not before she’d taken a step towards him. When she spotted Sadie, however, she halted, looked quizzical then walked on with her friends, her quip in French, just audible to Mac’s straining ears.

  ‘Can’t be, not dressed like that. Anyway, he usually has a young cover girl on his arm, not someone like her. Probably just looks a bit like the playboy billionaire, that’s all.’

  Mac froze. How dare they insult his companion like that? If he wasn’t ‘undercover’, he’d have taken great pleasure in telling them that she was more beautiful than any cover girl.

  Then he realised with a jolt that the insult was really for him. He felt shallow, superficial. Was he really a cliché?

  Suddenly a sledgehammer blow caught him in the gut, bringing with it the sad realisation that that was precisely what he was.

  He’d never been amidst raw public opinion before, not in this way – hearing sheer honesty, rather than the sanitised, filtered version the über rich usually got told by their minions. How sad that this playboy persona was all he boiled down to in their eyes. And they’d been right – his arm candy was usually a carefully groomed size zero – with a personality to match. No wonder he’d stopped finding them attractive.

  And as for his playboy image?

  Well, let’s see if the new plans would finally change all that.

  His companion was regaling him with some information about a health food product she’d recently tried, animated and enthusiastic, and he watched her red lips pouting and pursing as she spoke. He wasn’t really listening.

  Would she care about what other people thought? Probably not.

  The topic of discussion had got to the stage where those red lips were adamantly advocating that the scientific press should ‘grow some’. She was enchanting. Then the music slowed down, so he asked Sadie if she danced.

  ‘You mean am I capable of it? Or would I like to?’ She chuckled.

  ‘Come on, come dance with me. I’m not very good but let’s give it a go.’ Hmm, still the self-doubt creeping in. Why was it so important to him to make a good impression on her? She certainly was unlike any of the others he’d been with – ever. But still he shrugged – that’s simply what happens when you spend too long away from women …

  Sadie felt completely happy. She’d laughed a lot, her body felt energised, as only sexual heat can make you feel, and she hadn’t thought about the big meeting once. She looked up at this strapping guy, holding his hand out hopefully towards her. How lucky was she? Taking his hand and feeling its warmth, she followed him out to the middle of the floor, mingling anonymously amongst the other swaying couples.

  A humid, heavy heat lay in the air and a bubbling anticipation began to rise between them, as they brought their bodies together. Hands, arms, chests all touched, then lower down the same thing happened.

  The sudden physical contact made Sadie gasp. He was sooo hot. So strong, rock solid. She shook her head. He looked perturbed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing, it’s just … it’s you.’

  ‘Makes a change from it’s not you, it’s me.’

  She laughed and looked away. He continued. ‘Anyway what about me? Did I tread on your toes already?’

  ‘No,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You’re doing fine, just fine.’

  ‘Fine. Well, fine’s better than not fine, I suppose! Dancing never was my strong point.’

  ‘Never mine either, not in these shoes.’

  ‘Aww … Don’t make me think about the shoes! I was trying not to think about the shoes.’ He pretended to fan himself approvingly at her high, high heels. She blushed.

  Another frisson passed between them, and his hands slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. She looked up – he was a good six inches taller than her, even in her highest high heels. Chiselled features, sexy designer stubble. He was truly magnificent – looking for all the world like he’d made no effort, but the pressed T-shirt and intoxicating freshly-showered aroma gave him away. Reaching his face, half-illuminated in the dim lights, she was struck by his expression. Intense – eyes barely showing any blue now, they were so black with desire.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Sam.’

  She went to reply but he was lowering his head towards her. Sadie watched him come closer, savouring the moment. She closed her eyes at the last possible second, inhaling deeply as their lips met for the first time.

  Slowly at first, then more passionately his mouth explored hers. Sharp darts of desire shot through her, as his tongue nudged between her lips, finding her tongue and infiltrating her senses. This kiss was even more powerful than she’d expected.

  He smelled so intensely male, tasted so exotic and rare, that he made her body tingle as he tenderly kissed his way from her lips across to her cheekbones and ears, then back to her lips, cupping her face in his hands, just the way she liked it. His hard body felt so powerful against her soft curves that she immediately wanted more of him. She felt like she was acting out a romance novel – the kind she’d lived and breathed for the last few years to get her fix of schmaltz. Tales in which he would have swept her off her feet, and away to a remote castle on a mountainside, in a horse-drawn carriage, and she would have been powerless to resist.

  Her imagination was running riot.

  So were his hands.

  They were in her hair, touching her neck, along her shoulders, down her arms, cupping her face and kissing her intently and
Sadie loved every second of it.

  In that moment, all that existed was a powerful bond, and she didn’t want to break the spell as they moved together, slowly swaying to the music, turning, kissing all the while.

  He felt like the happy ending she’d been waiting for her whole life.

  But this wouldn’t be like a romance novel, Sadie thought, bringing herself back to earth with a bump. This was a ‘one night only’. ‘Sam’ today, Sadie tomorrow – don’t forget that. Don’t get carried away.

  There would be no crimson sunset to disappear into – he’ll be the one that’s doing the disappearing when he hoists anchor tomorrow and sets sail in his power boat. Superyacht. Whatever.

  With his kiss deepening, she allowed herself the luxury of surrendering to the simple excitement of seduction. But she made sure to detach her blossoming emotions, neatly storing them away in the ‘for future reference, but not now’ section of her brain. Because, as inevitable as his departure would be, she also guessed how the rest of the night was likely to play out, and she found herself eager for the next step.

  So she kissed him back.

  Hard.

  His reaction was equally fervent, and she felt him raise his own game. Their arms wound around each other, more frantic, more fevered. Mac’s hands found her hair, released the rest of her up-do and pulled her face towards him. Running his fingers through her tousled blonde locks, his tongue showing her mouth exactly what he’d like to be doing to her body. And it didn’t escape the attention of nearby couples.

  ‘Vous voulez une chambre à l’hôtel?’ a fellow dancer asked and giggled.

  ‘She said, “get a room”,’ Mac explained, as he and Sadie unclamped themselves from each other.

  ‘Pardonnez-moi,’ Sadie said, and the dancer smiled.

  ‘You speak French?’ Mac asked

  ‘About four sentences.’

  ‘What are the others?’

  ‘You don’t want to know.’

  Things were getting a bit too hot on the dance floor, and with a couple of pointing fingers aiming his way, this was definitely not the way to remain incognito. Holding her hand, he led her back towards the booth.

  As he reached the table and slid in next to her, his eyes were drawn across the other side of the bar. There, by the door, two of his crew innocently stood watching them, making a thumbs-up sign.

  He shook his head, warning them off.

  Sadie saw none of it.

  ‘So, I was thinking,’ he said as they both finished off their drinks and he grabbed his jacket. ‘Ever seen inside a superyacht?’

  ‘No. Only a Sunseeker Cruiser.’

  ‘You’re learning.’

  ‘I was wondering if you’d be offering me a tour.’

  ‘Well, only if you think your sea legs can stand it without throwing something else overboard. I’ve had my swim for the day,’ he said.

  ‘I’d say my legs are capable of lots of things,’ she replied, and then giggled realising what she’d said.

  Mac chivalrously picked up her jacket and as he placed it on her shoulders he saw her bite her lip slightly.

  ‘Although,’ Sadie continued, ‘I do have a busy day tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ve got an early start too so no problem. A quick tour and a nightcap to round the evening off?’

  ‘Walk me outside and I’ll think about it.’

  A woman like this in my arms and I’m wanting a quick tour and an early night? I’m losing my touch, thought Mac.

  The lights were twinkling in Port Hercule as they walked outside. The sky was clear and the silence of the night air was broken periodically by a tinkling of mismatched music as they passed the various bars in silence. From time to time, Sadie glanced up at him, admiringly, then looked away quickly when he turned to see what she was looking at. Finally they reached the quay.

  ‘Well, are you going to come back?’ he said, taking her in his arms, playing with her hair and looking expectantly into her eyes.

  Sadie was thinking.

  It’d been a lovely night. Should she risk ruining the magical memory by going further? Or risk ruining it by saying no? Miss out on a scintillating night of passion? Or miss out on a potential disaster? She shuddered, remembering the last one-night stand she’d had. In Tuscany. And the one before that with a date she’d met on the Internet. ‘Tragically funny’, was how she’d described it. She’d vowed never to do that to herself again. Not without love, she’d told herself. After all, being feisty with her clothes on was one thing – keeping men at a distance was her specialty. But when it was all stripped back – literally – the vulnerability scared her.

  So full of the backchat, so lacking in confidence in her post-baby body. Yuk – tragically funny all right. That’s why it had been easy to set up a five-year exclusion zone. Then when her business was sorted and the kids were grown up enough not to need so much of her time – then she’d hit the gym and find a man. She blamed sister Helen for what had happened in Tuscany, and anyway, that wasn’t real life. And neither was this.

  But looking up at Mac, she saw how different tonight had been – how easy she was in his company, for one thing. And for another, how much she fancied him – totally unlike a one-night stand guy. Or Damian the big kid. Or Stuart the domineering ex-husband. Mac was gorgeous and she could tell he was totally attracted to her too. She surprised herself – suddenly she was imagining the look on Stuart’s face if she turned up with Mac by her side – and it was too much. A pang of longing passed through her and she knew in a heartbeat there could only be one possible answer.

  Ten minutes later Mac closed the stateroom door, not quite sure how he’d ended up there – alone.

  Alone.

  He took a deep breath. What was he doing? Messed that one up completely. And what was this alien feeling? Fretting? Disappointment? Failure? Surely not …

  It had all seemed so promising.

  ‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ she’d said. Then she’d kissed him with all the passion and promise he usually received at the end of a successful night out, usually followed by a successful night in. But that was it – she’d gone off in a taxi, and he’d gone off to consult with his old friend Mr Jack Daniel’s. Mac swigged the whisky he’d poured himself and grimaced at it – nope not working. Then he started undressing, removing his belt, and throwing it onto the floor in frustration.

  ‘You certainly didn’t see that one coming, Mac my boy,’ he said to his reflection in the mirror. First time for everything, he thought.

  Still hot from his earlier encounters, he relived the scintillating kisses over and over again. She’d certainly left him shaken – and stirred. He thrilled at the memory of her curves. Real curves.

  But something was niggling him. And it wasn’t just being turned down for the first time in years. It was his own behaviour, that’s what.

  Mac sat himself down on his bed and started untying his shoes. The more he thought about it, the more he became wracked with guilt.

  Why did he let her think he was a deckhand?

  He paused and rasped his fingers across the stubble on his face. Because she joked about being into rich men? Because that’s when his alarm bell had rung, an alarm bell that chimed with the clang of ancient history?

  He clinked more ice into his glass and it too, gave a clang. He downed it in one. Go on, punish yourself and ruin your training tomorrow, yeh, good move, loser.

  Whatever, it wouldn’t make any difference ’cos now she was gone. And whether he’d intentionally lied or not, now he’d never be able to tell her the truth.

  Which was what? Exactly?

  He held his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. Think.

  Point one, ‘Mac the deckhand’ wasn’t likely to be rich, but she’d agreed to meet him anyway.

  Po
int two, even she had suggested it was going to be just a brief liaison, so don’t stress about it.

  Point three, she seemed keen on him too – she hadn’t pushed him away when he’d kissed her. In fact, she’d kissed him back, hard and full.

  But even that had particular significance. For most men, that would be quite normal. But for Mac, a billionaire, it was rare to know for sure whether a woman wanted him for himself – or for his wallet. No wonder he’d been too easily tempted to play along. The way she’d reacted to him, even though she thought he was mere crew, meant more to him than any of his usual encounters.

  No, there had been something altogether more … primal … about this voluptuous woman called Sam. And he’d been curious, that’s all, to see what would happen if he stayed incognito. Yes, that was it. Curiosity. That was all it was.

  Then he realised point four – the most reassuring thought of all – a killer fact: telling her he was rich at the end of the night – specifically to find out if it would make her act differently, to even stoop as low as to see if it would change her mind about coming on board, that would have been far, far worse.

  Lose lose.

  It didn’t matter now, she’d gone. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

  He rubbed his scarred face. She didn’t even say anything about this.

  What a woman.

  He remembered the feel of her luscious lips and the press of her hips, and felt the familiar stirring. Again. God she was sexy. He adjusted himself and picked up his shoes.

  Obviously she had a good brain on her to match her generous curves, if she was here on business. And he’d always had a weakness for intelligent women with curves. Sadly, that combination was rare amongst the lettuce munching Barbie dolls everyone expected a billionaire like him to have on his arm.

  Mac stopped what he was doing and paused for one second to think about that description. He stared into space like a statue, contemplating. Then threw his shoes into the corner.

  Billionaire. On paper at least.