and his fingers still remembered her texture. The roughness of his callused hands on her soft skin. He wanted to touch her again. Now.
Sexual tension pumped through his body, making him heavy. Dammit, he needed a diversion. Too bad she was engrossed in her job.
Which he knew shouldn’t bother him, but it did. Everything male in him wanted to rise to the indirect challenge she issued by ignoring him. And that was the one thing he’d never been able to resist. So he fiddled with the radio dial until he found a classic-rock station.
Instead of something hard and raunchy, the sensuous sounds of Dave Matthews and his band singing one of their ballads. The soft, emotional lyrics didn’t help his situation as he felt the beast in him rising to the surface.
He tightened his hands on the wheel. She hadn’t even glanced at him when the music blared out of the speakers. Unable to help himself, he reached over and removed the elastic holding her hair back. She didn’t move to stop him, only glanced toward him.
“Problem?”
“You’re going to have to take it out later, anyway,” he said. Which had to be the lamest excuse in history. But there was no way he was going to tell her more.
She held her hand out palm up, and though he wanted to toss the damn elastic out the window he gave it to her. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
“For what?”
“I put vanity before comfort.”
“I don’t imagine you being vain.”
“Well, not like ego. I just like to look…well kept.”
“I’ll keep you well,” he said before he could stop himself. Damn, normally he wasn’t such a hound, but he could think of nothing but her in his arms. Her in his bed. Her…just her, and that disturbed him.
“Rand?”
“Don’t, okay?” Rand asked.
He concentrated on the road. Hardly noticed that the long, sunshine-colored strands of her hair brushed his arm every thirty seconds or so. Hardly noticed that her scent engulfed him. He wanted to bring her closer so he could breathe her in. Hardly noticed that for once a different kind of tension was pursuing him.
He felt like a big, mean bastard. He turned the radio down and concentrated on his driving, annoyed at her for ignoring him and mad at himself for reacting as if he were in junior high school.
He clicked off the radio and floored the accelerator.
“You okay?” Corrine asked.
He’d had enough of being a beast and wasn’t about to say another thing to her until they arrived at the yacht. And then he’d find a way to make sure he didn’t take her actions so personally. But she appealed to him on too many levels. “Yeah.”
She closed her laptop and put it away. “I’ve always loved the smell of the beach.”
“Me, too. One of the first times I beat my older twin brother was at beach volleyball. We played all afternoon and we kept switching off winning, and then finally I won two in a row,” he said.
“You know, I grew up in Florida but never got to go to the beach until I was in college. That trip was my shot at freedom, and I stood on the shore looking out at the endless horizon and vowed to make the most of every opportunity given to me.”
“You’ve kept that vow,” he said.
“Yes, I have.”
“Why is success so important to you?” he asked. He knew that he shouldn’t get to know her better. That knowing the woman behind the executive would only make her more tempting, but there was no way he could resist learning more about her. And the few glimpses he’d had of the real Corrine told him they weren’t well suited. There was a sadness in her eyes sometimes that made him believe she needed an average guy without the baggage he brought to any relationship.
“I’m an orphan.”
Her words didn’t make sense to him at first. He had so much family that he couldn’t imagine a life without them. And even when his five siblings weren’t around he had friends who were like family. “When did your parents die?”
“I’m pretty sure they are both still living somewhere.”
“Have you ever tried to find them?” he asked. He liked knowing he was part of the past as well as the future through his ancestry. Though he and his father had never seen eye to eye on one thing, Rand wouldn’t change his lineage. He liked knowing where he came from, and if the pressure of being a Pearson was too much to bear sometimes, that was a price Rand paid.
“No.”
“You should think about it,” he said.
“Rand, I’m never going to look for them.”
“Why not?”
“I was abandoned when I was two days old.”
Her words cut him. No one should have abandoned this woman. Why hadn’t he let her alone? “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It was a long time ago.”
He reached across the gearshift and found her hand. It was clenched in a tight fist, nails digging into the flesh of her palm. Though her words sounded as if she’d gotten over it, the truth was her emotions ran deep and strong. He pried her fingers open and slid his hand around hers. And he knew how time could lessen the pain but not totally abate it.
He said nothing else as they drove along the highway, the wind in their hair and hands tightly clasped. She didn’t speak, either, and when he pulled off the highway and had to let go to downshift, she reached for her handbag and pulled out a brush.
He knew he wouldn’t be holding her hand again or seeing any more glimpses into her soul. Because as she put up her window, and he did the same, she morphed into someone he didn’t want her to be. She smoothed her hair back into place, and she was no longer the woman he’d spoken to earlier but the corporate executive looking for her next promotion.
The party was fun in spite of being a work event. Corrine mingled through the crowd with Rand at her side. Tarron and Corporate Spouses had a strategic partnership for training—the project Rand and Corrine had been working on, so he knew many of her colleagues. As they circulated through the room, Corrine couldn’t help being aware that this was how things might be if she ever had a husband. It was a little unnerving. Finally the party wound down and everyone started to leave.
“That went well,” Corrine said as they helped tidy up after the party. Corporate Spouses had helped man the check-in table and had arranged for a caterer. Though Rand wasn’t in charge of this event, he’d still made sure everything ran smoothly. And when Paul had asked her if she’d mind helping supervise the cleanup, Rand had said he didn’t mind staying.
“Did it?” Rand asked.
He’d been distant since their conversation in the car and Corrine wasn’t sure what to make of that. There was something about telling people that your own parents thought you weren’t worth keeping that made
