Reese knew there were certain things in life that couldn’t be measured. The hours he spent on the Time Lapse were one of those things. His thirty-foot sailing yacht was his baby. His car was older and needed a paint job. His house was nice and had a great view of the bay, but he could afford better. His boat was in mint condition. There was no nicer sailing vessel in the marina. He spared no expense when it came to the Time Lapse.
The time he spent on the boat worked to counteract the stress of working fourteen-hour days—simply thinking about the boat soothed him. Now that he had left Los Angeles for Sausalito, he spent as much time in the marina and on his yacht as he could spare.
He didn’t know what had upset Sabrina. He only knew that he wanted to soothe her. He wanted to bring her closer to him, to bridge the gap she’d put between them when she’d seen the mother and child. He wanted to take her to some place private to explore her depths, and not just for his articles.
He motored out of the marina and headed for the bay. From her seat on the deck Sabrina watched him. Though her large designer glasses covered her eyes, he felt her gaze on him as he steered the boat. When they passed the last buoy and entered the bay, he throttled down and lifted the sails.
The work was hot and the sun burned through the layers of cotton and denim. He wanted to strip naked, to be at one with the elements, but he wasn’t alone. And he didn’t think the lady would appreciate an elemental male basking in his testosterone.
He removed his shirt and tossed it under his seat. He heard her breath catch and cursed silently. He’d forgotten about the old scars. Not totally forgotten, of course, they were a constant reminder of the past. It was simply that being at sea had lulled him. He pulled his shirt back out and put it on.
He motioned for Sabrina to join him. She moved slowly, as if unsure. Reese couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been at home on the water. He crossed to her and guided her to the steering wheel.
“Reese—”
“Ever been on a boat before?” he asked, cutting her off. He wasn’t answering any personal questions. This was his interview. And it was just an interview, he reminded himself again. She wasn’t a woman he could seduce into his bed, no matter how badly he wanted her there. And he wanted her in his bed very badly.
“No,” she said.
Her hair whipped in the wind like living silk. If he leaned closer it would surround him. For a minute he was tempted to do just that.
But reality stopped him. Getting her to relax was one thing, indulging his senses another. Especially since once he lowered his guard she’d jump on him with a slew of questions. Women always did. No woman had ever stayed with him for the long haul. Starting with the death of his mother hours after his birth.
He squinted into the sun and forced his thoughts into the present, back to the lady standing so close to him he could feel the heat from her body.
“Are you relaxing yet?” he asked, leading her further away from the questions he sensed on her tongue.
She shrugged. “I’d be more relaxed if you’d stop interrupting me.”
He’d forgotten how spunky she could be. His tonic was working. It had never occurred to her to argue at the café, but here on the ocean she’d found her backbone.
“I know. But there are some things I don’t discuss.”
“You can leave your shirt off. I was surprised but not bothered.”
He was tempted to remove his shirt but knew he wouldn’t. Some shames ran too deep and those scars were one of his. In his mind they were as fresh as the day he’d received them.
Looking at Sabrina now, he thought she might feel concern, too. If he removed his shirt and she asked questions in her soft feminine voice, he’d be lured into answering them. And he didn’t want to sully the innocence in her eyes by revealing the ugly truth of his past.
“Want to learn how to steer?” he asked.
She sighed. He thought for a moment she wasn’t going to let him change the subject, but he could be dog stubborn when he had to.
“Sure.”
She pivoted to face the wheel and he stepped up behind her. She had a nice backside. Fully curved and feminine. He wanted to place his hands on her hips and pull her back against his body. But he knew that was foolish. And Reese Howard wasn’t a fool.
He placed her hands on the wheel and explained the rudiments of sailing to her. Then he relaxed behind her. The wind and sun played over his skin as he stepped toward her. An attractive woman in his arms, the sea beneath his bare feet, the sun all around him. Another fantasy come to life, thanks to this woman.
“This is great,” she said after a few minutes.
He smiled to himself. Finally, the tension eased out of his spine.
After thirty minutes she surrendered the wheel and he piloted them slowly back to the marina. Sabrina hovered next to him while he steered and docked the boat.
She perched nervously on the pilot’s chair and removed her sunglasses. She played with the stems. He wondered what was going on in her pretty head.
“I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic,” she said.
Weary but game, he asked, “As if you were going to sink?”
She laughed and he felt better for having amused her. She’d come a long way from the crying woman he’d brought to his sailboat. “No—as if I’m ‘king of the world’.”
Reese understood completely. There was something about being out in the elements. On the part of the earth that wasn’t readily habitable by man and surviving. He loved his boat, had wanted to live on it forever, but none of the women in his life had ever wanted to.
“Is that how you feel?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“Why do you guard every answer?”
“Why do you ask probing questions?”
“I’m telling you the intimate details of my life.”
“In return for compensation.”
She looked out over the bay. The sun was setting and the breeze was cooler now. She shivered a little, but he suspected it wasn’t from the wind. “I feel cheap.”
Stay back, he warned himself. Stay away from her. Don’t touch.
Yet he moved toward her, anyway. Rubbing her arms with his hands and felt her fragility beneath his grip. He could crush her. How would she ever be able to protect the child she wanted?
“There is nothing cheap about you.”
“I’m selling myself for a child.”
“You’re not. You’re sharing yourself with the world for a chance at your dream come true.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide, mouth trembling—and he couldn’t
