Look what people are saying about this talented author…

“Joanne Rock puts her own personal magic into the pages of Highly Charged!, giving us a story that defines romance.” —Cataromance, 5 stars

“The super-sexy Highly Charged! is an explosive good time.” —RT Book Reviews

“A thrilling romantic suspense that will keep you turning the pages.” —RT Book Reviews on Under Wraps

“Definitely a home run!…

Characters jump off the pages and into our hearts.” —Cataromance on Double Play

“Readers will be held captive by Joanne Rock’s superb historical.” —Genre Go Round Reviews on The Captive

“Very hot, as is Ms Rock’s trademark.” —Tampa Bay Examiner, 5 stars on In the Laird’s Bed

About the Author

The mother of three sports-minded sons, JOANNE ROCK’S primary occupation is carting kids to practices and cheering on their athletic prowess at any number of sporting events. In the windows of time between football games, she loves to write and cheer on happily-ever-afters. A three-time RITA® Award nominee, Joanne is the author of more than fifty books for a variety of Mills & boon series. She has been an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement nominee and multiple Reviewers’ Choice finalist, including a nomination for The Captive as best blaze of 2010. Her work has been reprinted in twenty-six countries and translated into nineteen languages. over two million copies of her books are in print. For more information on Joanne’s books, visit www.joannerock.com.

Making a Splash

Joanne Rock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my sister and brother-in-law,

Linda and Bob Watson.

Thank you for letting me hang out on the boat and for

giving me another book idea. Turns out my Florida

visits are not only fun and fattening but creatively

productive, as well. I appreciate you!

Prologue

JACK MURPHY HAD BEEN BACK in town for less than four weeks since he’d completed his navy contract and returned to Chatham, Massachusetts, from Bahrain. Already Keith had noted the changes in his older brother. Jack was quieter. More brooding than he used to be. And he refused to resume his old job as VP of global properties for Murphy Resorts, the family business.

Perhaps most notably, he hadn’t bothered to show up for a family football game the day before, even though all the Murphy brothers were back in town at once—something that hadn’t happened since Christmas three years ago. Clearly, something was wrong.

Keith watched him now as they shared a table at their oldest brother’s engagement party on the lawn of the family’s home overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Jack stared out at the waves, while one table over their father tapped his beer bottle to signal for the crowd’s attention.

There were six brothers—five by birth plus Axel, the foster brother from Finland who’d been with them for eight years. Out of the six of them, Jack and Keith had both landed in the middle, with twenty-eight-year-old Jack eleven months older than Keith. They shared a look—the family pictures proved it (as well as the face that Keith dressed better than the rest). All the brothers had inherited their father’s green eyes, in varying shades, and dark brown hair. Even Axel fit the mold, except for his blue eyes. Danny and Kyle—twenty-six and twenty-five years old respectively—carried the most muscle. Jack was the tallest. The other differences were in the way they carried themselves. Ryan was the corporate shark who would take over the family business. Jack was ex-Navy, clean-cut and brooding. Keith the GQ charmer—he’d like to think—who’d developed his own company. Danny was a former rocker with a goatee and bad-ass sneer, but he’d joined the Navy, too, and had no plans to get out. Kyle was a hockey superstar whose nose had taken its fair share of hits. Axel had come to the U.S. to ease his transition into the National Hockey League after playing on college teams with Kyle.

As the family peacemaker, Keith naturally felt compelled to pinpoint the problem with Jack. He’d ruled out post-traumatic stress disorder last week, thank God, after strong-arming his closemouthed brother into talking about his second overseas stint in four years. In-stead of PTSD, he’d discovered that Jack had a woman problem.

And that, Keith planned to address tonight.

“To the future bride and groom!” Their father’s hearty toast reverberated through the huge outdoor tent on the lawn.

On cue, Keith clanked glasses with his brothers in honor of Ryan and his bride to be. At least one of the Murphy men was in a good mood today.

Not that they weren’t all glad for Ryan, whose hard work with Murphy Resorts had more than earned him some personal happiness. That’s why all the Murphys had heeded the call to return to the sprawling house on Cape Cod for tonight’s brouhaha.

Jack didn’t bother suppressing a scowl despite the festivities. Even as the chamber ensemble gave way to a lively dance band that cranked up tunes for the future bride and groom, Jack slid back into his chair after the toast and drummed his fingers on the white linen tablecloth.

The guy’s problem had a name, of course. Alicia LeBlanc. She was a firecracker and just the kind of woman a strong-willed man needed. But with two ardent opinions at work, they’d been too stubborn to see the possibilities of a future together, and Jack had joined the navy at a critical juncture in their relationship, telling her not to wait for him.

Nothing like slamming a door on a future.

The family had assumed four years away from home—returning only on the occasional leave—would cure Jack of Alicia. But he’d come back from Bahrain more restless and edgy than ever. Something needed to be settled between those two, one way or another.

Luckily, Keith had a plan to shove his hardheaded brother in the right direction—he just happened to have the woman in question aboard his boat and docked nearby at this very moment. Because of his success starting up the environmental consulting firm he now ran, Alicia had approached Keith two weeks ago with some questions about developing a business plan for a bed-and-breakfast she hoped to purchase. He might have simply given her the advice and sent her on her way. But the inn she wanted was up in Bar Harbor, Maine, close to where Keith was headed. He needed to hand off the catamaran to one of his company’s VIPs as part of a corporate incentives reward. He’d agreed to give Alicia all the help she wanted, but because of his busy schedule, he’d talked her into discussing her plans on the ride to Bar Harbor. It would save him time, and allow her to view the property.

They were supposed to leave right after Ryan’s engagement party. Right after Keith trotted out a little old-fashioned maneuvering to make sure Jack was aboard the catamaran for the trip north tonight instead of him.

“So how’s the Vesta handling these days?” Keith began, turning the discussion to watercraft as the band launched into “Moonglow” and their parents took the floor beneath a small chandelier suspended under one of the tent canopies. “Are you getting tired of sailing solo yet?”

It was a comfortable, easy place to begin a familiar argument about the merits of their respective boats, and Keith tipped back the last of his champagne while he watched Jack’s scowl deepen. Around the small table, Danny peeled the label on his microbrew while Kyle thumbed a text message faster than a teenage girl in spite of his massive hands. Axel furtively checked his PDA for rival-team hockey scores. The mild evening weather stirred a breeze fragrant with late blooming flowers the landscaper had imported for the occasion.

“She’s as smooth as ever,” he muttered, although he didn’t rise to defend the twenty-six-foot vintage fiberglass sailboat with the same fire as usual. “But I’ve got an offer on her and I’m taking her down to Charleston this week to meet with a potential buyer.”

Crap.

Keith hadn’t planned for that possibility, thinking he could goad Jack into a boat switch for a few days with no problem.

“You’re selling the Vesta?” This surprised him for a few reasons, not the least of which was because the Vesta was the first sailboat he’d ever purchased, and he’d christened it with Alicia.

What if Jack was truly making an effort to move on?

“Probably. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Heading south this time of year is bound to be a good idea either way. I’m doing some investing in local businesses and figured I might as well free up my capital to continue in that direction.”

What direction? Keith wanted to shout, since investing hardly amounted to the kind of hands-on work Jack preferred. His brother really did need help finding his way back to a satisfying civilian life.

All the more reason for Keith to forge ahead with his plan, right?

“Yeah?” Thinking fast, he tried to figure out how to make the scheme come together in light of the new wrinkle. “You ought to let me deliver the Vesta for you, bro. I have a client I need to see down that way and I’m well overdue for some time off.”

Jack snorted. “You? Sail the Vesta solo all the way to South Carolina?” He shook his head. “You forget, a vintage classic like a Pearson Triton doesn’t come equipped with all the techno-gadgets you need on the miniature corporate yacht you’ve got. I don’t know how you’d manage without satellite positioning and automatic docking.”

“Is that right?” Keith felt the same thrill as when he had a new client on the line, ready to close a deal that would reap fat rewards for his growing business. He could tell he had Jack on the hook. “I’ll bet I could handle the Vesta a whole hell of a lot easier than you could navigate a state-of-the-art, forty-five-foot power catamaran on your own.”

Across the table, Daniel’s eyes flicked their way and Kyle set down his Black-Berry, the brothers drawn into the bickering like moths to a flame. Hell, they’d forged a brotherhood by more than blood—which was why super-competitive Axel had fit right in. Every Murphy present was used to the unspoken family code of “don’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk.”

And they all talked a damned good game. Bets and competitions were their way of life. No clan affair was complete without an impromptu game of football or a wager over who could throw a ball, horseshoe, javelin, you-name-it the farthest.

“Do you remember who you’re talking to?” Jack shook his head in disbelief, though he lowered his voice in deference to the fact that their mother had zeroed in on their table and was making her way toward them with determined steps. “You think I don’t know state-of-the-art boats? I’ve been in the U.S. Navy for the last four years.”

The hard glint in Jack’s eyes told Keith his brother wasn’t backing down. Of course Jack could handle the boat. It was Alicia LeBlanc who would provide the challenge. And damned if Keith didn’t feel the smallest twinge of guilt for sending Jack into the fray unarmed and unaware.

But Keith knew what it was like to get taken in by a manipulative woman. And it pissed him off to think about his brother setting aside someone like Alicia without looking back. People fortunate enough to have something special like that had no business throwing it away.

Their mother arrived at the table in her peach silk dress and dyed-to-match pumps, her outfit perfectly coordinated with the harvest-themed colors of the engagement party. Colleen Murphy was all elegance on the outside with her understated diamond earrings and her French manicure, but she had a steely strength as tough as that of her sons. The fire in her light blue eyes right now suggested her maternal radar had gotten wind of a wager in the making.

“Boys?” She intervened discreetly, her gaze moving over each one slowly. “We agreed there would be no resolving disagreements with feats of strength tonight, remember?”

On cue, Kyle flexed his biceps for show. “As if there was any point to that when the winner is so obvious.”

Keith rose to his feet to put her at ease.

“No arguments here, Mom.” He kissed her cheek as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them on the table. “Jack offered me a chance for a little downtime on the sailboat this week, since I was in the market for a vacation. He offered to take my boat up to Bar Harbor for my company’s chief financial officer to use, while I get to sail the Vesta down to Charleston to meet a guy who wants to buy it. Just a friendly swap.”

Daniel and Axel snickered. Kyle hid his grin behind a champagne glass. And Keith had to pat himself on the back for pulling off this operation so smoothly.

“That’s it?” their mother pressed. “A friendly trade?” She peered around the table, daring any of them to disagree.

Jack rose, staring Keith down for a little longer than was strictly necessary before offering a warm smile to their mom.

“That’s it,” he assured her. He took Keith’s keys and pocketed them. “I’m docked two slips down from you, bro. And since I don’t have one damn thing worth locking up, you won’t need a set of keys to get in. Good luck with a boat that doesn’t come with enough horsepower to fuel a jet engine. Sailing single-handed requires elbow grease.”

Keith yawned to demonstrate what he thought of the warning. “Not a problem. When you cut yourself off from the rest of the world, it’s easy to focus on one thing.” He loosened his tie. “I could use the life of leisure for a week.”

Keith noticed Kyle whistling under his breath at the implication that Jack was taking it easy. But damn it, when was he going to get back to his position at Murphy Resorts?

Jack seemed ready to fire off a retort when their mom extended a peach-silk-covered arm between them and gestured to Kyle, Axel and Danny.

“Speaking of leisure,” she blurted, no doubt to divert them, “there are some lovely young ladies here who would probably enjoy a turn on the dance floor.”

How was that for a segue? His brothers took the bait, standing to attend to their bachelor duties as the band began a swing tune.

Jack’s jaw flexed in an obvious effort to swallow back whatever he’d been about to say. He tapped Keith in the center of his chest. “Your life is only as complicated as you make it, hotshot. I’ll have your boat relocated to Bar Harbor in a few days and leave myself enough time to take in the sights.” He turned to their mother and kissed her cheek. “Mom, it’s been a pleasure. I’ll pay my respects to the happy couple on my way out.”

When he had disappeared into the darkness and out of earshot, Colleen peered up at Keith.

“I don’t suppose you care to tell me what that was all about?” She twisted the small diamond stud in one ear.

“I’m just trying to remind Jack that ignoring the obstacles in life doesn’t make them go away.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and no clue how a week on a spiffed-up catamaran will call to mind any obstacles for Jack.” She tipped her head toward his shoulder to murmur a quiet warning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He thought about Alicia, who should have already arrived aboard his boat and would quite possibly be safely asleep by now, since he’d warned her he would be late. They’d set a tentative time to talk over the business plan tomorrow afternoon. That was his only regret in his scheme to help Jack confront his past: Keith genuinely had some ideas for her. But he’d prepped a file to email her in the morning, so she wouldn’t be deprived of that input.

Besides, Jack knew more about the hospitality industry than him after working in the family business. Keith had gotten out from under the family thumb early in his career.

“Trust me.” He took his mom’s arm and led her toward the dance floor. “When you run as hard and fast as Jack does from happiness, you’re bound to slam headfirst into trouble sooner or later. I’m merely speeding up the inevitable collision.”

His mother stopped short a few feet shy of the hardwood dance surface. Keith could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, her delicately arched blond brows furrowed in thought before they smoothed out again.

Clearly, she’d reached the logical conclusion about Jack. The one thing he’d run from hard and fast—love, in the form of Alicia LeBlanc.

“Don’t tell me Alicia is in Bar Harbor.”

“Better yet, she’s on my boat.” Keith grinned, unrepentant. He tugged his cell phone out of his pocket and slid open the keypad. “But don’t worry. I’ll give Jack a heads-up…once I’m sure it’s too late for him to turn back.”

1

JACK’S CELL PHONE buzzed at least three times before he even got his brother’s sleek catamaran into open water.

He knew it was nothing pressing, since the text messages had subject lines such as “quick heads-up” rather than “URGENT.” So he ignored them, figuring Keith wanted to share a lot of details about his high-end vessel—as if Jack couldn’t figure out how to steer a boat without the help of GPS gizmos. Jack had gotten this far in life by knowing when to tune out the rest of the world, a lesson his workaholic brother had yet to process.

Keith the Corporate Mogul took every incoming call as if it were life or death, assuming the world couldn’t turn without his input. Jack had weathered enough storms to know plenty of problems blew themselves out without him lifting a finger. While Keith positioned himself for the Forbes list, Jack was content to invest some of his savings in local businesses, as he’d been doing since he returned home a month ago. Nothing big. He gave those struggling bars a hand up in a rough economy while he figured out what direction he wanted his career to take now that he was out of the service. Returning to the family business wasn’t a direction that particularly appealed.

In the meantime, he’d started selling off a few of his personal possessions to consolidate his assets and simplify his lifestyle. Truth be told, he was glad not to be the one to hand off the vintage Pearson Triton that was full of memories for him. Alicia had helped him christen the Vesta back when his life had made more sense.

Not that he would think about her now, damn it. His brother’s engagement party had messed with his head tonight, putting thoughts of her back in his brain.

But you broke up with her because she was too young… . Some obnoxious voice in his head piped up. That problem no longer exists.

The fact that they’d both matured, however, wouldn’t take away their bulldog personalities. Or erase the fact that she’d moved on since he’d been away. Every time he’d been home on leave in the past four years, she’d been dating someone else.

If he had any sense, he would fall for someone softer. Someone who wouldn’t argue about his every decision. Someone a whole lot less like him. But first he needed to find a way to come to terms with a shared past he’d never really forgotten.

Now, at about two-thirty in the morning, he had his ropes thrown off and he’d steered through the coastal traffic into open water. He’d checked out the chart plotter and the self-steering feature enough to feel comfortable moving around deck while the boat cruised along. No doubt about it, the catamaran had every cool innovation known to mankind—the Zeus steering system and GPS position-locking features both made handling a big vessel easy.

He figured he’d put enough distance between him and the rest of the Murphy clan to settle down for the night. He was out of the main shipping lanes and his lights were burning bright, so he should be safe to get some rest.

It would kill his mother to know it, but he hated trips home. Being there brought back too many memories of a time where he’d dreamed of a different life.

Jamming the cell phone back in his jacket pocket, he tugged his tie off. The fact that, hours after leaving Ryan’s party, Jack hadn’t even changed out of his suit yet spoke volumes about his need to be under way, as far from Cape Cod and the possibility of bumping into Alicia as he could get. He needed to see her sooner or later, yes. But not until he figured out why her memory still affected him so strongly.

He’d stopped at a convenience store for some supplies on his way to the marina, despite Keith’s assurance that the corporate toy was fully stocked. But other than the one brief pause, he’d been running nonstop since he walked away from the party.

The boat was a beauty. Keith’s company owned the power catamaran and used it to entertain clients. But in between gigs to impress potential customers or long-term patrons, the top dogs passed the toy around amongst themselves.

Now that he’d cooled down a bit, he could appreciate some of the features of Keith’s catamaran. Roomy as hell. Laid out by someone who’d been at sea before, with no skimping on practical stuff—although there were some fluffy add-ons such as a hot tub in the front deck. Jack switched on the night-light in the hall leading to the forward cabin. He’d done a quick inspection of the hull layout before he’d left the marina, tossing his bag into the cabin that looked as if it had been recently used, with the berth still rumpled and a duffel in one corner. Had to be the space Keith had used, and was therefore the one most likely to have sheets and an alarm clock at the ready.

Yanking off his jacket and belt, Jack trailed clothes like a stripper, too wasted to hang things up. He didn’t even bother turning on the light before he slid into the queen-size bed, liking the dark just fine. Oblivion couldn’t come soon enough after the day he’d had.

He was happy for Ryan finding The One. Truly, he was. But seeing that promise of a future on both their faces had poured acid in an old wound, reminding Jack of the way Alicia had started to think long-term with him when he’d been embroiled in a family drama that had needed his attention. Those days should have been too long ago for him to remember their breakup in such vivid detail.

Unfortunately, he remembered all too well.

On the plus side, he’d put some serious nautical miles between himself and the woman he’d walked out on, before he finally drifted into exhausted sleep… .

ALICIA LEBLANC COULD almost swear Jack Murphy was back in her arms.

An annoying rational voice—inescapable even in her dreams—told her that was because she was on board a Murphy-owned boat. Dealing with Keith had put his whole family back in the forefront of her mind after all these years, and that’s why her subconscious had concocted a delicious nighttime fantasy about her ex.

“Jack…” She sighed his name in her half sleep, resenting the practical side of her that insisted she was just dreaming. Why couldn’t she simply enjoy sexy dreams like the rest of the population?

Because dreaming about him makes you weak! her cranky ego shouted.

Undaunted, she pressed her cheek to Jack’s broad, bare chest. Her dreams added muscle and weight to his younger body, altering her memories of him to account for the navy-hardened form he sported these days. She’d caught sight of him on the beach earlier in the week, when she’d been giving kite-surfing lessons to tourists—one facet of the water sports business she’d started to save money for her own coastal bed-and-breakfast. Nothing big like Murphy Resorts owned all over the Cape, but something small and personal, where she could entertain all the time and share her love of the water with travelers. She’d been hooking up the safety harness on a couple of college kids who wanted to catch big air on the water when she had heard Jack’s voice carrying from farther out in the surf.

Sure enough, he’d sailed into sight on the Vesta. She might have taken a moment’s pleasure in knowing he’d kept the boat even though he’d dumped her. But he’d probably just been too busy saving the world to ditch the sailboat the second he’d ousted Alicia from his life.

Damn the man.

Still, he was hot and hard everywhere in this dream moment that would be over all too soon. She kissed his chest, her tongue darting along one flat pectoral to steal a taste of him. He was salty with sea air, just the way she remembered. Turning her cheek against him again, she absorbed his warmth, her fingers finding the silky hair at the center of his chest. She followed the path lower, savoring the way his skin tightened at her touch, his muscles twitching in response.

Greedy for more, she rubbed her breasts against him, arching into his body so she touched as much of him as she could. The friction had her heart racing. Pleasure simmered in her veins and she wondered why her brain insisted on maintaining the reality of her tank top between them in the fantasy.

Ditto Jack’s boxer shorts.

She’d slid a thigh between his at some point and she resented the presence of lightweight cotton, no matter that the fabric was soft. What she wanted throbbed behind the fly, and she had every intention of enjoying it. Enjoying him.

“Jack,” she murmured, liking the feel of his name on her tongue, loving that he felt so real.

Smoothing her fingers over his face, she encountered deep stubble that would sting her cheek if she rubbed it against him there. The strong, square line of his jaw remained as stubborn and immovable as ever, broken only by a dimple centered in his chin. For old time’s sake, she touched the depression, but the contact was too full of past emotions when she wanted only passion.

It had been so long for her. No one else compared to this man, even though she’d searched for someone to fill the void in her heart.

But right now, she could have him again.

“Alicia?” His voice warmed her ear, his lips coming alive as she undulated against him.

“Yes,” she confirmed, wanting to be the only one he thought about. There’d been a time she’d been certain she was the only woman who mattered to him. “I’m so ready,” she whispered, rocking her hips against his.

Heat blossomed between her legs and she palmed his thigh to keep the pressure of him right where she wanted it.

“Alicia.” The cold bark of his voice knifed through the dream like a pin to a balloon, deflating all that sexed-up heat.

The warm body beside hers scrambled away. Hell, he scrambled right out of the bed. She blinked in the darkness, her pulse racing as her knee fell against the empty mattress without his thigh to prop hers up. What the…

A horrible thought occurred to her.

“I’m not dreaming.” She clutched the bedspread to her aching body, straining to see in the cabin with only a sliver of moonlight coming through a porthole and a dull glow from a night-light flickering out in the hall.

She prayed she would wake up, prayed this was a fantasy turned mortifying nightmare. But as she took in Jack Murphy’s glowering expression above her, Alicia knew she didn’t have enough imagination to conjure up all the fury she saw there.

Oh, God. There must have been some mix-up… .

“What are you doing here?” He flipped on an overhead light, frying her retinas and making her all too aware of the thin pajama shorts she’d worn to bed with her tank top.

No, it was Jack’s forest-green eyes raking up and down her exposed gams that tripped a keen awareness of the limited wardrobe. Flipping the rest of the bedspread over her lower half, she sat up in the bed.

“I might ask you the same question,” she retorted, already imagining ways to strangle Keith for this. “Where is your brother?”

Not waiting for an answer, she hopped off the bed and marched past Jack, ready to duke it out with the only Murphy she’d remained friends with after the big breakup between her and Jack.

“He’s not here.” Jack halted her forward progress with one long arm, hauling her back into the bedroom. “And if he was, don’t you think you’re a little under-dressed to speak with him?”

The feel of Jack’s arm across her stomach, even through double layers of quilt, burned into her skin. Her breast brushed his forearm for the briefest moment, but the memory of that contact remained in her tingling flesh. She tightened her hold on the bedspread, wishing she could squeeze away the sensation.

His naked chest was mere inches from her in the small cabin, the berth just big enough for a bed and a space to dress. It occurred to her she’d actually kissed—licked—that chest only moments ago in her sleep. In fact, her hormones were still so ramped up that the thought of her lips on his tanned skin made her mouth run dry.

“What do you mean, he’s not here?” With the lights on and her bare feet planted on the carpeted cabin floor, she realized something was wrong—something beyond finding Jack in her bed. Peering out the nearest porthole, she couldn’t see the marina lights. Dark ocean glimmered back at her. They were out to sea. The beginnings of panic tickled the back of her neck. “Where is he?”

“You were waiting for Keith?” Jack ignored her question to ask his own.

And didn’t that help remind her why it was just as well they’d broken up? He was a man accustomed to having his own way.

“Yes, damn it.” The panic jumped higher, clogging her throat. “He’s supposed to take me to Bar Harbor and help me finalize a business plan on the way. I’m looking at a bed-and-breakfast up there—”

“Why?” Jack interrupted.

That couldn’t possibly be jealousy she heard in his voice. Frustration spiked, mingled with embarrassment, and all around made it difficult to maintain her patience.

“First tell me what happened to Keith.” She worked up a glower of her own, recalling how Jack could steam-roll her if she didn’t give as good as she got with him. “Tell me where we are and why Keith is not here.”

She’d save the questions about why Jack felt it was okay to climb into bed with her after breaking her heart and leaving town four years ago. Damn him, she was the one who deserved some answers.

“Keith knew you were on the boat.” Jack didn’t seem terribly cowed by her threatening glare, but at least he’d paused in the inquisition to take out his cell phone. Tapping some keys, he appeared to scroll through a screen. “That must have been what he texted me about.”

“Well, I still don’t understand.” She barreled past him again, determined to check their headings if Jack wouldn’t pony up any answers. “Has it occurred to you or your brother that I might have a lot riding on this trip?”

Not waiting for his answers this time, she stomped through the galley and up toward the helm, clutching the spread tight against the sea winds that swirled down the hatch.

“And did you know the Murphys aren’t the only people in the world who are passionate about their business?” she asked, on a roll now. “I never would have taken such a slow route to Bar Harbor if Keith hadn’t agreed to look over my business plan for me and give me his input on it along the way.” An awful thought occurred to her. She whirled around on the stairs to find Jack a half step behind her. “Does this have to do with some brotherly wager?”

Bets and contests of all varieties were favorite pastimes of the Murphy men. Just ask anyone who’d lived in Chatham, Massachusetts, for the last decade. After their family’s annual Thanksgiving regatta out on the open water, they returned home for their front-lawn Turkey Bowl, a contest so official there were paid refs imported from out of town. Then there was the bet Jack had once made to see how fast he could talk her into a kiss. Although that one…well, she hadn’t been all that offended at the time.

Jack’s pause was telling.

“Come back downstairs,” he insisted. “We need to talk.”

“Hmm. You forget that conversation for you consists of asking all the questions while I do all the answering. Sorry, but I’ll pass.” She had every intention of reaching Bar Harbor with a workable business plan in place before her appointment with the owner of the seaside bed-and-breakfast she’d had her eye on these last few months. With little capital to put down on the place, she wanted to have a thorough game plan mapped out for the bank. If she couldn’t nab a business loan, the inn might wind up in foreclosure.

She needed a fresh start someplace new now that Jack was back home on the Cape. She’d gotten over their breakup a long time ago. Truly, she had. But it had been easier when he was in the navy and she didn’t have to see him around town. Now that he’d started investing in` businesses around Chatham—a fact well circulated by the local rumor mill—he’d obviously be spending more time there. And while she’d like to think they could live in the same town, she wasn’t anxious to see him show up at the local clambake with some girl she’d gone to school with, or worse, some jet-set sophisticate from one of the European jaunts he’d likely go on once he was back on the Murphy Resorts payroll.

She was over him on the condition she didn’t have his future rubbed in her face. While she wouldn’t call herself a sore loser per se, she was competitive enough to prefer winning.

Darting the rest of the way up the stairs, she stepped onto the deck and headed for the helm. Night air blew over her, the temperatures out on the water decidedly cool even though the day had been gorgeous back home on the Cape. Sea breezes dotted her cheek with cool moisture, the taste of the salt spray on her lips reminding her of Jack’s skin. Ignoring the hum of residual pleasure that memory brought, she bent to check the chart plotter and the headings he’d set. Thankfully, Jack didn’t try to stop her. She didn’t think she could handle any more touching. Her body still sang with the seductive contact from earlier.

“We’re going to Bar Harbor,” Jack told her finally, since the high-tech gadgetry wasn’t giving up any obvious clues. He checked a few instruments and made an adjustment to some stray dial. “Keith and I traded boats tonight after we got into a BS argument about who had the better vessel. Dumb guy stuff.”

Alicia whirled around to face him. She wondered how he could stand the wind with no shirt on, but then, he’d practically been born on a boat. He looked like a gorgeous Poseidon with his granite wedge of shoulders and his dark brown hair blowing in the breeze. He’d pulled on a pair of trousers, which were unbuttoned at his waist, a hint of dark cotton boxers showing through the open V above the fly.

And whoa. How did her eyes end up on that southward journey? She yanked her gaze back to his tanned skin and the crinkle of tiny lines around his eyes that spoke of long days outdoors. They’d been there even when he was younger—he had a smile that lit up his whole expression, but it was one that she’d been privy to only for a single incredible year. The lines were deeper now, as if they’d been baked in by the sun from all those months on a destroyer in the Pacific.

“So if you told him you had a better boat than him, how exactly did you end up sailing his out of the marina while I was sleeping?” Keith had told her to make herself comfortable because he’d be late arriving. Had he set her up for this? Her stomach dropped at the thought that he would do something so underhanded when she’d believed they were friends.

“Hmm…” Jack scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I might have taunted him about not knowing how to sail. I mean, will you look at this thing?” He gestured to the top-notch equipment at the helm. The tiny hot tub built into the foredeck. “How does this floating house party bear any resemblance to boating as we know it?”

For a moment, the “we” sucked her in, included her in that exclusive little club of insiders that Jack respected. His list had always been short, his high standards tough for most mortals to meet. When she had been among the people Jack trusted, the feeling had been awfully damn good for a girl who’d grown up without the mother who’d left long ago, and with a father more committed to his job than his kids. Jack Murphy had once seemed like Prince Charming, there to save the day.

Not anymore.

“So you didn’t want to take his party cruiser, but you were so dead set on forcing him to sail a real man’s boat that you swapped vessels.” She was starting to form a picture now. She could almost hear the conversation at Ryan’s party. “And what do you think Keith’s motive was for taking you up on the trade when he knew damn well I would be on board?”

A gust of wind blew the bedspread open around her legs, the fabric lifting clear up to her hip. She battled it back down, stuffing the excess fabric between her knees to pin it in place.

She thought she spied a flash of male appreciation in Jack’s eyes before he recovered the glower that now seemed to be his trademark expression around her.

“I can’t imagine what he was thinking, but you can bet I’m going to find out.” He waved his phone again.

“If you even get a cell signal out here.” She sighed. “Look, why don’t we just tuck into land wherever we are and I’ll catch a bus to Bar Harbor. No harm, no foul.”

She moved back toward the hatch to return downstairs and dress. She didn’t need this kind of garbage in her life. Whatever Keith had in mind by throwing her together with Jack tonight, it wasn’t going to work. Any chance of making peace between them had ended when he’d signed up for the navy the second he’d finished telling her they were through.

It’d been the ultimate kiss-off. Not only had he dumped her, he’d hot-footed it to the other side of the globe and sold himself to Uncle Sam in the process, just to make damn sure she knew how serious he was about getting away from her.

Or at least, that’s how it had seemed. And he’d never disabused her of the notion, keeping his explanations to a bare minimum in a way that had hurt like hell.

“No.” Jack’s arms were around her, stopping her.

It didn’t make sense, because she could see how much of a hardship it was for him to be near her. To touch her. Most guys would have at least let her dream on in her aroused state when they’d been in bed together, but Mr. Noble and Upstanding had been too honorable to cop an extra ten-second feel, bolting out of bed as if she was a pariah.

So why did he have his arms around her now?

“Excuse me?” Her hair whipped about her face in a crosswind and she had to push it aside so she could see him.

“I will take you to Bar Harbor.” His hands warmed her right through the quilt fabric. The rest of her remained chilled, while two perfect imprints of his palms flared hot on her forearms. “I have to go there anyhow to drop off the boat for Keith’s colleague.”

“That doesn’t mean we ought to travel together.” How could she survive being penned up on a boat with her controlling, I-know-best ex-boyfriend? Not in this lifetime. “In fact, that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

He turned her out of the wind, taking most of it on his back and shielding her from the light spray the gusts kicked up. He was protective like that. Always had been. Some would call that thoughtful. But there came a point where a woman didn’t want to be wound up in bubble wrap for safekeeping, and somehow Jack had never understood that about her. He’d told her she shouldn’t wait for him while he was in the navy, since it would be too much to expect of her.

Another way he’d cut her to the core.

“You didn’t think it was such a bad idea ten minutes ago when we were in bed together.”

She’d need a crowbar to pry her jaw off the deck.

“You did not just say that to me,” she managed to reply finally, her throat cracking on a dry note at the reminder of how she’d been drawn to him like a magnet. “I was asleep. Are you going to hold it against me that I was having some anonymous sexy dream?”

“It was hardly anonymous. You said my name.”

“Did I?” She vaguely recalled this. “I wouldn’t know what I said or did because I was sleeping.”

“Would you like me to remind you?” His hands shifted ever so subtly on her arms, the play of his fingers up her shoulders taking the touch from gentle restraint to…Sensual? Romantic?

She didn’t know how to define it—the last time she’d checked, Jack Murphy had told her to have a nice life, since they clearly weren’t meant for each other. The news had come after their umpteenth argument about how to make a relationship work while she was still in college and he was globe-trotting for his father’s company. He’d ditched her and the family job in one swoop, encouraging her to date guys her own age since he was “tying her down,” preventing her from having a real college experience.

“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” She knew him well enough to know he would never use her attraction against her. He was all about protectiveness. Doing what was best for her even when she’d hated it.

As his eyes narrowed, a dangerous light glittered in their depths. Too late she realized she’d just issued a challenge to a man who’d never known how to walk away from one.

2

HE WOULDN’T DARE?

Jack suspected she didn’t have any idea what he would dare when it came to her.

Alicia LeBlanc had transformed from a sweet college coed in need of a date for her fall formal, to a sexual dynamo with an attitude.

He didn’t know what to make of this woman who bore little resemblance to the studious business major she’d once been, or even the hardworking swimmer and sorority girl he remembered from before he’d joined the navy. But he didn’t feel the same limits with her as he had four years ago, that was for damn certain.

She’d grown even more beautiful, her athletic body still trim and lean but the curves subtly more voluptuous. Long blond waves fell around her shoulders. She wasn’t as tall as most swimmers, but she had a can’t-miss presence when she walked into a room. A throaty laugh you could hear across a crowded party. The abundance of freckles across her nose reminded him that as an avid diver and surfer, she loved the outdoors as much as he did. She’d started giving lessons in a variety of water sports during her senior year of college and had grown the business to include equipment rentals and a couple of employees.

Hell, she’d been game for any sport he’d ever wanted to play, and that was saying something. Most guys he knew couldn’t handle the mega-competitive weekend reunions at the Murphy household, but Alicia hadn’t just sat on the sidelines flipping burgers. She’d tried her hand as starting pitcher when they’d played stickball, and got prickly when her receivers hadn’t run the routes she’d dictated when they’d let her quarterback a team in the Turkey Bowl. She had a natural competitiveness that made her fit right in with his family.

If she hadn’t been so damn young—or maybe if she hadn’t been every bit as strong-willed as him—they might have gotten somewhere. But both those things had tripped them up and he hadn’t thought it would be fair to maintain the relationship when he’d made the decision to take a navy contract after…well, when the call to serve had become undeniably personal.

He hadn’t been at liberty to discuss the way the war had hit close to home back then. Couldn’t let her in on why he’d needed to sign that contract so badly. And the secrecy had cost them both.

He’d heard she’d dated half his high-school graduating class since then—okay, two other guys that he knew about. But she’d dated with enough of a vengeance that she’d shown him she didn’t care about the breakup.

It’d stung when he’d gotten the news on his first stint overseas, back when he’d been sitting on a ship in the Gulf of Oman.

“I’m going to give you fair warning, Alicia.” He kept his hands on her, ill prepared to deal with the riptide effect of being alone with her for the first time in four years. He was too exhausted—and too turned on from finding himself in bed with her. “Because even though I play to win, I believe in a level playing field.”

“How generous of you.” The soft words held plenty of sarcasm, but she didn’t move a muscle, her body perfectly still under his hands.

“I would dare a lot when it comes to you.” Because he’d never forgotten about her. Because she’d moved on with an ease that had rankled long afterward. “So if you won’t admit you felt something for me in the cabin earlier, I’m not going to think twice about proving what a lie that is.”

“Okay, so I felt something, damn it,” she snapped, leaning forward to get in his face. “Satisfied?”

Her gutsiness had always made her irresistible. And he had no reason to hold back now. She’d sparked a flame inside him and he couldn’t think of any reason not to follow it to its natural conclusion. Maybe this time it would burn itself out, since trying to shut it down four years ago had backfired. He’d thought about her more than any other woman he’d ever been with, probably because he’d stomped out the relationship too soon.

They might not have personalities that meshed for the long term. But they sure as hell had chemistry that would light things up in the here and now.

Damn it, they needed to find out what was between them once and for all.

“No. Admit it was for me. You were dreaming about me. You said my name.”

She pursed her lips. Brown eyes narrowed. Everything about her posture told him she would argue this all night. So he opted for a preemptive strike. Winding one arm around her waist and one around her back, he drew her to him. Her hands still clutched the blanket to her neck, so he pinned them between his chest and hers. Captive.

Her eyes went wide in the reflected glow of the running lights. Surprised. He could feel the rapid tattoo of her heartbeat against his chest. And he had no qualms about fitting his mouth to hers and tasting her lips.

The flavor of her damn near took out his knees. Familiar and foreign all at once, her mouth followed his. Part of him couldn’t believe she was here, in his arms, allowing him to touch her and kiss her. But they’d always been good together physically. And even though he’d been dead to the world when he’d fallen into that berth earlier, he could have sworn she’d been aware it was him she was touching.

He hadn’t been positive she’d said his name at all, half afraid he’d dreamed up all that heat radiating from her when she’d rubbed her thigh against his. Licked him. But now, feeling her mouth come alive under his, he knew he’d been right. The spark between them was still there.

Without warning, she broke the kiss and stepped back. Ocean air blew between them, cooling his hot skin and stirring the blanket she gripped around her as if it were a life vest.

“Uncle.” One hand lifted to her mouth, as if to stroke away his kiss. Or to preserve the feel of it? “Okay? You win. I must have known on some level it was you in bed because I thought I was dreaming about you. But you have to believe that I never would have started coming on to you if I’d been awake. It’s been four years and a lot of water under the bridge.”

He did not want to think about the water under the bridge. The other guys she’d dated. The feelings for her that had run deep even after they broke up. He rerouted his thoughts with an effort.

“Subconsciously, you still want me.” Personally, he thought the desire was pretty obvious on the surface, too, or she wouldn’t have returned his kiss just now. But he recalled she had pride as fierce as his own, and he didn’t think pushing any harder right now would be wise.

“Or maybe I have a selective memory when I’m sleeping, and I can choose to remember your positive attributes instead of that famous Murphy arrogance.” She tucked into the stairwell. “I’m going below. It’s freezing up here.”

Funny. He’d been plenty warm until she’d walked away. After one more quick glance to check the horizon for traffic, Jack followed her down into the galley. She slid into a seat at the built-in table near the bag of supplies he’d picked up on his way to the marina.

He took the seat across from her, giving her space without letting go of a conversational point that needed to be settled ASAP.

“You’re right about the arrogance,” he admitted, eyes adjusting to the green tinge of the night-light he’d left on in the hall. “But I only pushed the kiss to remind you that we’re not exactly strangers. I mean, you trusted Keith enough to take you to Bar Harbor, and that guy couldn’t sail his way out of a bathtub. So why not me?”

She laughed. The warm, throaty chuckle pleased his insides like hot chocolate after a snowball war. Damn, but she was gorgeous when she smiled.

“The fact that I can still be persuaded to kiss you after you dumped me right before my spring formal and then joined the navy to escape my wrath sort of makes me wary around you.” The humor in her tone was tinged with a dark edge that surprised him.

But then, shipping out weeks after their breakup had guaranteed he wouldn’t see the fallout. Of course, she didn’t know that his decision to go into the service hadn’t been about her.

“The timing was unfortunate,” he admitted, unprepared to discuss those darker days with her. “But don’t let an old argument prevent you from making this trip. With two of us to sail this monstrosity that Keith calls a boat, we’ll make decent time, and you’ll be off and running in Bar Harbor before you know it.”

Her gaze turned thoughtful. Serious.

And the fact that he seemed to be holding his breath clued him in to how much he wanted her to say yes. A smarter man might have questioned his sanity, given the way they’d hurt each other in the past. But seeing her again had blasted through old defenses, sparking a need to simply be with her.

“Maybe a little closure would be a good thing.” She toyed with the plastic handle of the shopping bag on the table. “I’ve missed your family parties.”

“Still flying high on the year you won the Turkey Bowl?”

“I threw a bomb to Kyle and he ran it into the end zone for the big finish.” She mimicked the throw, her arm reaching out of the blanket long enough to give him a glimpse of soft, feminine curves beneath. “It was one of my finer moments.”

They stared at each other across the polished wooden table. Was she remembering the finer moment that came afterward, when they’d stolen into one of the cabanas so he could help her celebrate her victory? He’d insisted that she deserved a reward she wouldn’t forget… .

“I—” He cleared his throat, knowing she didn’t want to hear about that right now. First, he had to get her to agree to this trip with him. “Yeah. I remember.”

Needing a distraction from memories that lambasted him, he grabbed the bag of supplies on the table and dragged it closer.

“You hungry?” he asked.

He sure as hell was. But there wasn’t anything in that bag that could help.

“Starving, actually.” She tucked her legs up on the bench beneath her. “Some of us didn’t get invited to the engagement party of the century at the Murphy Mansion. How was it?”

Grateful to reroute his thoughts, he realized she probably would like to hear about Ryan’s shindig. There’d been six months where she’d practically been family, after all.

She’d moved to Chatham when he was in high school, but he hadn’t really become aware of her until he’d seen her at one of Kyle’s football games, cheering on the sidelines and explaining the finer points of the game—a little impatiently—to some girlfriends. He’d been amused by her solid grip on the offense’s use of the “I” formation, but she’d been five years his junior, way too young to register on his dating radar.

But once he’d become aware of her, Alicia LeBlanc seemed to be everywhere he turned for the next two years. Leading her high school team to a state championship in swimming and earning a college scholarship. Taking an interest in the hospitality field and getting a summer internship in one of his father’s resorts as an activity assistant. Showing up at his parents’ house in the summers with a slew of Kyle and Axel’s other friends to boat and surf.

Jack had become annoyed with himself when he realized he was heading home on the weekends just to see her, and he’d made a hell of an effort to stay away, knowing she was still too young for him. Not in terms of years, but in terms of where they were in life. She was still getting her education, while he was out on his own, taking trips to Europe for his job as VP of global properties.

He’d succeeded in putting distance between them right up until her junior year, when she’d pitched in to handle the PR for a charity golf tournament at one of his father’s resorts when the promotions director had been sick. Jack had been drafted by the family to help her, since he’d been in town. And seeing her in that light—professional and capable—had forced him to stop thinking of her as a kid. Still, he wouldn’t have acted on the attraction if she hadn’t come to him out on the golf course when he’d been picking up the flag sticks that night with his brother Ryan.

Ryan had read the signals and left them alone, but not before daring Jack to make a move on her.

Alicia had him outmaneuvered even then, making a no-holds-barred play for him on the ninth hole. And she’d been as assertive on a personal level as she’d always been on the playing field… .

“The party was—” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Food was good.” He pulled a six-pack of drinks from the bag and a few snacks. “But it can’t compare to grape soda and chocolate Pop-Tarts.”

“Perfect.” She snagged the box from him and opened it while he retrieved a glass and poured her drink over ice.

Then he filled a second one for himself.

“So…cheers to our northern voyage?” He kept her glass hostage while she thought about it.

“You’re impossible.” She chewed her pastry and narrowed her gaze again. “You know I can’t eat this without something to wash it down.”

“Guess you’d better hurry up and see we’re going to make this trip together.”

Still she left him hanging.

“We ought to sketch out some ground rules,” she said finally, setting her snack back on the foil package.

“You think that’s necessary?” He didn’t like the sound of “rules” when it came to her. He’d imposed a list as long as his arm where she was concerned in the past, and look how that had turned out.

“First—” she held up a finger, ignoring his question “—no kissing.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was going with him, right? He’d have to find more imaginative ways to make her remember how good they could be together.

He nodded.

“Second.” Her middle finger joined the pointer. “Separate beds.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“It doesn’t hurt to spell out our expectations.”

“You’re just scared you’ll jump me again if we end up between the sheets.” Begrudgingly, he handed her the soda, hoping the list was almost done. “I’m afraid to hear the rest of the rules.”

“There’s just one more.” She set the drink on the table between them. “I really debated on this last item. Should rule number three be that you wear a shirt all the time?”

He couldn’t have held back his grin if his life depended on it. He’d definitely spend this trip half-dressed.

“What’s the alternative?”

“That you occasionally let me steer the ship.” Folding her arms, she planted her elbows on the table. For all intents and purposes it looked as if she was staring him down.

“I already told you I’m glad to have another hand on deck.” He knew she couldn’t read all the controls on the helm, but she’d been on enough boats to spot him if he wanted a rest.

“You have a hard time giving up control,” she reminded him. Absently, she spun the grape soda on the table, almost as if to remind him she could walk away from this deal at any moment. “I’d like some assurance that I can weigh in on the captain’s decisions.”

“You want to second-guess me.”

“They’re good rules, Jack.” She picked up her glass and tipped it in his direction. “What do you say?”

“I say cheers.” He clinked his drink to hers before she could change her mind. “Bon voyage.”

Taking a sip, she eyed him warily over the rim.

“I certainly hope so.”

SEATED ON THE FORWARD deck the next morning, the fall sun warming her face as they sped through wide-open blue sea, Alicia wondered if she would have made the same decision to sail with Jack by the clear light of day. With hours between waking up in bed with him and making her choice.

She couldn’t pretend the attraction between them hadn’t played into her agreeing to go with him to Bar Harbor. No matter how much she told herself she’d gotten over him, feeling her heart race at his presence, experiencing the sharp hunger for him that she’d never had for another man, had urged her to find out what the heck had gone so wrong between them. How did they end up so hurt and angry with each other? And why had the universe dropped this irresistible man in her path—for a second time—when they were too stubborn to get along?

Maybe relationships were like swimming. Practice enough, and eventually you improved your times. Not that she planned to practice with Jack Murphy. He’d crushed her heart enough for one lifetime, thank you very much. But perhaps she could discover what had really sent him running four years ago. Because all that BS about her being too young? Total smoke screen. She hadn’t bought it then and she didn’t buy it now.

She peered over one shoulder to where he manned the wheel, looking like a modern-day pirate with a blue-and-white bandanna tied around his head and a day’s growth of beard on his jaw. He wore khaki cargoes and a white linen shirt that he’d neglected to button much higher than his navel. The fabric flapped in the breeze as they cut through the waves.

He’d slept off and on after sunrise, giving the wheel to her and showing her the most basic navigation skills so he could catch up on some rest. After they’d made their pact the night before, she’d fallen into a hard sleep until dawn, while Jack had taken the night shift at the helm. Now, well past noon, he was back in charge of the boat and she was faced with the consequences of her late-night agreement with him.

Noticing her looking his way, he grinned.

“Regretting the no-kissing rule already, aren’t you?” he called over the noise of the engine.

“Hardly.” She was actually patting herself on the back for that one. No sense giving him any advantages when the man had too much to work with already. “I was just wondering when I should let you in on my real reason for agreeing to this trip with you.”

She wouldn’t, of course. Jack was probably at the top of the list of men in his family who wouldn’t appreciate soul-searching in the name of self-improvement—or in the name of enlightening an old girlfriend. Although possibly he’d share that top slot with his brother Daniel—the family rebel. At least the other brothers had learned how to put a socially acceptable facade atop all the he-man aggressiveness that ran in the family.

“What do you mean?” Jack’s frown was so pronounced it would probably leave wrinkles.

Well, now she’d have to tell him something… .

Pushing to her feet, she scooted along the wooden walkway that circled the bow, and stepped down into the saloon area behind the helm. There was a built-in settee and table under a hardtop cover that provided protection from the sun in hot weather or kept the captain out of the wind on a cooler voyage.

“I figured it would be a good idea to pick your brain about opening a bed-and-breakfast in a new town. I would have quizzed Keith about it if he’d taken me on this trip, but since I’ve got you…”

“You can pick all you want, but I’m no expert anymore.” He settled in the captain’s chair, sitting sideways to talk to her. The boat easily handled the small swells of the warm September afternoon in the Atlantic, and didn’t need too much attention. “I quit my job at Murphy Resorts when I went into the service.”

“But rumor has it you’ve started investing in bars all over the Cape. Sounds to me like you’ve still got a hand in the hospitality industry.”

“I figured I’d keep my money in the local economy while I chart my next move. It’s been an adjustment since coming out of the service.”

Surprised at the admission from a man who rarely admitted anything in life had ever been difficult for him, Alicia left the comment alone for now. Had he liked navy life? Maybe he’d been drawn to it for more reasons than just an escape.

And damn, but didn’t it paint her as self-centered for never having considered that before? Curiosity niggled.

“Active in your dad’s business or not, you know a lot about the hospitality scene.” She tapped a fingernail on the plastic tabletop, inhaling the clean scent of the ocean. “What things would you look for in a bed-and-breakfast at a new location?”

She’d take advice wherever she could get it, since she was determined to make a go of this business on her own, away from her father’s continued insistence that he knew what was best for her.

“B and Bs are a whole different ball game than the resorts my family have specialized in,” Jack cautioned, signaling to a sleek superyacht that cruised past, dwarfing them.

“I’m very aware of that. Go out on a limb for me, okay?” As their boat bobbed in the wake of the bigger craft, she was vaguely surprised at his need to downplay his expertise, so at odds with the arrogance she had come to associate with him. What other changes might she uncover during the course of their journey together?

“I’d make sure this market supported other bed-and-breakfast establishments and that they’re more than half-full eight months of the year. Then I’d want to know what would make my inn stand out among the competing properties.” When he had their boat steadied again, he returned his full attention to her. “B and Bs aren’t cash cows. They’re labors of love for most people. Are you going to have the income to stay well ahead of the mortgage?”

“I’ve got a subsidiary income opportunity in mind.” She wasn’t ready to give up her water-sports business completely. Besides, she needed something to make her property distinctive. She needed this project to succeed. “What else? Any time of year that’s better for openings? And it’s an older place with some smaller rooms. Would you combine some of them to make more spacious quarters when finances allow, or pitch the place as ‘cozy’ and try to make it work with the smaller rooms?”

“Whoa.” He left the captain’s chair and slid into the seat across from her at the built-in table. The steering controls were still within reach if he stretched. “You’re really serious about this? About opening a business on your own in Maine, of all places?”

“Of course I’m serious.” She tugged down the brim of the camouflage canvas fishing hat she’d worn to protect her from the sun. She didn’t think she had much space left for more freckles. “I’ve researched this property every way possible without actually seeing it. And what have you got against Maine?”

“It’s far away and I’ve never heard you say anything about wanting to live in Maine.”

And since when had they discussed her future? Even when they’d been dating, that had been a topic Jack avoided like the plague.

“Sometimes it’s good to put space between yourself and where you grew up, right?” She didn’t think he could argue that, considering the choice he’d made.

“Sure. But you love it on the Cape.”

As opposed to Jack, who’d spent half the time they were dating on another continent.

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot of competition for tourist dollars there. And your family runs a tight ship. I don’t think I’m ready to battle with the Murphy clan in the business world.” She’d considered that kind of venture. But it would mean living in Jack’s backyard. Circulating in his family’s world. “Bad enough I could kick your butt at sports. I couldn’t demean you in business as well.”

“Ally, I’m serious.” He wasn’t letting her off the hook about this. “It’s going to be tough enough starting a business alone. Why travel so far from your roots to make it happen? Why not give yourself the support system of your friends and family?”

She felt herself stiffen, her pride bristling at the thought of her father or brother coming near her project. But she had asked Jack for his input. Damn it, she’d wanted advice about how to handle the inn in Bar Harbor, not all the reasons she shouldn’t buy it. She tipped her face into the ocean breeze and took a deep breath to try to soften her tone.

“My family is a far cry from yours, Jack.” Her father was a workaholic who’d driven her mom away long ago with his tunnel-vision dedication to his job and his habit of manipulating his kids like chess pieces. Her older brother, and only sibling, had stuck around. But he seemed content to follow in their father’s footsteps, commuting daily into Boston or New York to a job that required most of his time.

When her brother wasn’t working overtime to add to his bottom line, he indulged in his favorite hobby—telling Alicia how to live her life.

“But they interfere because they love you. You know that. I think you’ll miss being able to see them.” Jack’s green eyes appeared sincere, his expression heartfelt.

A less wise woman might believe his worry on her behalf was sincere. But she understood that it wasn’t concern for her needs so much as an unrelenting belief that he knew what was best for everyone around him. Just as her father and her brother did.

“While I appreciate you looking out for me, I’m not asking for help with the personal aspect of this.” As long as she liked the property as much in person as she did online, and could get the bank on board, she was closing this deal.

“Have you even thought seriously about opening a place on the Cape, where you have connections?”

Behind him, the ship radio squawked with a weather warning that made Jack check the sky and his watch. The storm clouds might be a few hours away, but as far as Alicia was concerned, Jack was already trying to rain on her parade.

“What connections?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t afford a place on the Cape even if I wanted to stay there.”

“I’ll back you,” he announced, rising from the built-in table to make adjustments on the boat’s automatic steering system.

She wished her life had an auto steering function right about now because she was feeling more adrift by the moment, and Jack seemed determined to step in and take charge.

“You’ll back me?” She parroted back the offer to be sure she’d heard correctly. “As in vouch for me to some corporate banker so I can borrow the bazillion dollars it would cost for a nice B and B property on the Cape? Even if you could convince someone to say yes, I wouldn’t be able to make a profit fast enough to pay that off. I don’t want that kind of pressure.”

Most of all, she didn’t want to be in debt to Jack.

“No pressure.” He turned the boat hard toward the west as he settled into the captain’s chair. “The loan would be from me.”

For a second, she couldn’t catch her breath. Her throat felt as if she’d inhaled a bug off the breeze.

“You can’t be serious.” How could he even consider such a thing? As tempting as it was to have the budget for a property that could be three times as profitable as the place she was looking at in Maine, she could never do business with her ex.

Out of the question.

He was jumping into her life and trying to take over. And they’d been back in each other’s presence for how long? Less than twenty-four hours.

“I’ve already invested in a handful of places around the Cape and you’re a safer risk than some of them.” He gestured toward a control on the helm. “Can you flip that switch up?”

Rising to her feet, she joined him by the helm and noticed from the chart plotter that he was headed toward Marina Bay, just south of Boston.

“Where are we going?” Frowning, she remembered how tough it was to keep up with a man who didn’t share his plans or intentions, a man who plowed through life on his own terms.

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