Megan's mate

His mind went blank, then filled with woman. The scent and feel and taste of her, the sound of the moan that caught in her throat when he nipped on her full lower lip. He dragged her closer, craving more, and had the dizzying delight of feeling every slim curve and line of Megan pressed against his body.

The scent of the ocean through the window had him imagining taking her on some deserted beach, while the surf pounded and the gulls screamed.

She felt herself sinking, and gripped him for balance. There was too much, much too much, rioting through her system. It would take a great deal more than the little bands around her wrist to level her now.

It would take control, willpower, and, most of all... remembering.

She drew back, would have stumbled if his arms hadn't stayed clamped around her.

No.

He couldn't get his breath. He told himself he would analyze later why one kiss had knocked him flat, like a two-fisted punch.

You'll have to be more specific. No to what?

To this. To any of this.

Panic kicked in and had her struggling away.

I wasn't

thinking.

Me, neither. It's a good sign you're doing it right, if you stop thinking when you're kissing.

I don't want you to kiss me.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. Safer there, he decided, since the lady was thinking again.

Sugar, you were doing more than your share.

There was little use in hotly denying the obvious truth. She fell back on cool logic.

You're an attractive man, and I responded in a natural manner.

He had to grin.

Darling, if kissing like that's in your nature, I'm going to die happy.

I don't intend for it to happen again.

You know what they say about the road to hell and intentions, don't you?

She was

tensed up again. He could see it in the set of her shoulders. He imagined her experience with Dumont had left plenty of scars.

Relax, Meg,

he said, more

kindly.

I'm not going to jump you. You want to take it slow, we'll take it slow.

The fact that his tone was so reasonable raised her hackles.

We're not going to take

it any way at all.

Better, he decided. He didn't mind riling her. In fact, he was looking forward to doing it. Often.

I'm going to have to say you're wrong. A man and woman set off a fire like that,

they're going to keep coming back to the heat.

She was very much afraid he was right. Even now, part of her yearned to fan that blaze again.

I'm not interested in fires or in heat. I'm certainly not interested in an affair with a man I barely know.

So, we'll get to know each other better before we have one, Nate responded, in an

irritatingly reasonable tone.

Megan clamped her teeth together.

I'm not interested in an affair, period. I know that must be a blow to your ego, but you'll just have to deal with it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get the children.

He stepped politely out of her way, waited until she'd reached the glass door leading onto the upper deck.

Meg?

It was only partly eg. that pushed him to speak. The rest was pure determination.

The first time I make love with you, you won't think about him. You won't even remember his name.

Her eyes sliced at him, twin ice-edged swords. She abandoned dignity and slammed the door.

Chapter 4

The woman'll be the death of me.

Dutch took a bottle of Jamaican rum from his hidey-hole in the back of the pantry.

Mark my words, boy.

Nathaniel kicked back in the kitchen chair, sated and relaxed after the meal he'd enjoyed in the Calhoun dining room. The hotel kitchen was spotless, now that the dinner rush was over. And Coco, Nathaniel knew, was occupied with family.

Otherwise, Dutch wouldn't have risked the rum.

You're not thinking of jumping ship, are you, mate?

Dutch snorted at the idea. As if he had to take French leave because he couldn't handle a fussy, snooty-nosed female.

I'm sticking.

After one wary glance toward

the door, he poured them both a healthy portion of rum.

But I'm warning you, boy,

sooner or later that woman's going to get her comeuppance.

And she's going to get it from yours truly.

He stabbed a thick thumb at his wide

chest.

Nathaniel downed a swig of rum, hissing through his teeth as it hit. Smooth as silk it wasn't.

Where's that bottle of Cruzan I got you?

Used it in a cake. This is plenty good enough for drinking.

If you don't want a stomach lining,

Nathaniel said under his breath.

So, what's the

problem with Coco now?

Well, if it's not one thing, it's two.

Dutch scowled at the kitchen phone when it rang. Room service, he thought with a sneer. Never had any damn room service aboard one of his ships.

Yeah, what?

Nathaniel grinned into his rum. Tact and diplomacy weren't Dutch's strong points.

He imagined that if Coco heard the man growl at guests that way, she'd faint. Or pop Dutch over the head with a skillet.

I guess you think we've got nothing better to do downhere?

he snarled into the

phone.

You'll getit when it's ready.

He hung up and snagged a plate.

Ordering