Under the Millionaire's Influence Page 4

  So why did she balk at sending away the people from her past parked outside? What hold did they have over her?

  All of which he needed to stop thinking about for now. This was Ashley’s night.

  He started to congratulate the graduate on her summa cum laude grades, but she’d been lured away by someone else wanting to pass along good wishes. He simply set his gift beside the cake and headed back to his perch by the door—

  And bumped into a burly blond wall of two men. He recognized Vic Jansen, a lumberjack-looking fellow in flannel and jeans, a veterinarian who’d married Claire last year. Having that big lug around provided an extra level of protection. David would do well to cultivate a friendship with the man.

  Time to quit thinking like a lone wolf, a habit ingrained in him growing up as an only child. “Good evening. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to come over and say hello since I got back in town.”

  “No problem. Between work and the baby, I don’t see daylight in the yard all that much myself.” Vic gestured to the blond giant next to him. “Meet my cousin, Seth Jansen. We finally lured him from out west to join the family here. He bought that small airport ten miles down the road.”

  “Really?” His curiosity upped a notch. “I hadn’t heard it was up for sale.”

  “It wasn’t. I closed on the deal a month ago.” Seth Jansen had obviously come straight from work, still in his suit pants and white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up his only concession for the casual party atmosphere.

  “Welcome to town. So you’ll be living here in one of Beachombers’ B-and-B rooms?”

  Damn, but jealousy chomped hard on a man’s hide. David waited for the answer.

  “Yes, while I finish building a place of my own out by the airport.”

  Vic hooked his thumbs in the back pockets of his jeans. “I gotta admit, I appreciate the extra set of eyes around here with our new residents parked out back. Seth and I are working swing shifts so one of us is always around to keep an eye on the women.”

  Of course. David resolved to put his libido on hold. He’d been glad to have Vic around, but then of course Vic would always have the safety of his wife and child first and foremost in his mind—as it should be. Adding Seth to the protective detail significantly increased their odds of keeping Starr safe. And now that Ashley had finished college, they had another female to worry about.

  Hell, he needed to get rid of the Cimino squatters ASAP. He’d done all he could at work to set the investigative wheels in motion. Now he needed to create a protective detail on site. And these men were valuable assets.

  Four

  S tarr wiped down the bar for the thirty-first time. The darn thing was clean and she knew it. The whole place was spotless and empty of guests, Ashley’s celebration complete.

  Vic and Claire were upstairs in their second-floor living quarters with baby Libby. Starr couldn’t find it in her to begrudge them their happiness. Claire had struggled hard to learn to let down her barriers and embrace love. And poor Vic had lost a daughter in a drowning accident before he’d moved here. His first wife had blamed him for no good reason and divorced him shortly thereafter. But Vic was a great guy who deserved the happiness he’d found.

  And Seth? The big lug was a hunk, no question. She would have to be comatose not to notice. However, even having him reside in one of the third-floor quarters didn’t offer the least temptation. She simply wasn’t attracted to lumbering blond guys. Or red-haired men.

  Or even most dark-haired guys, for that matter.

  Her attention seemed stuck on one particular man with jet-black hair and a mansion-sized ego. Starr hitched a hip against the bar and stared out past the porch to the dock where David stood silhouetted at the end of the pier, staring outward pensively.

  She recalled from past conversations that he said the water offered him the perfect place for concentrating, sorting through problems. The water drew him. He’d sailed competitively throughout the U.S. and even in Europe—as long as it hadn’t interfered with his soccer playing. He’d wanted to compete professionally but his mother had found that too plebian.

  Off he’d gone to college on a joint soccer and academic scholarship to circumvent his mother’s power and money altogether—and taken a public service job, his dream, not his family’s. The house and half the money, however, had become his at twenty-one because of his father’s will, regardless of his horrified mother’s wishes.

  Now David answered to no one.

  Starr wadded the rag in her fist, clutching it to her aching stomach. No doubt, the complexity of this man called to her.

  Her gaze drifted to wicker baskets filled with gifts for Ashley. David’s rested right on top. A satiny backpack in the bright pinks Ashley loved, but ergonomic to accommodate her spinal problems. Big purses and briefcases left her already-out-of-whack vertebrae aching. It took a man completely comfortable in his masculinity to pick out magenta anything.

  And his present for Ashley meant more to Starr than if he’d bought her a hothouse full of roses or some hefty gift certificate.

  He deserved a decent thank you.

  Starr pitched the soggy rag into the sink behind the bar and made her way down the steps, across the lawn and along the planked dock. She couldn’t help herself. She reached to pull free the hair band restraining her curls and tried, tried, tried to tell herself she shook her hair loose because her head ached from the tight restraint. But she knew deep inside, a part of her enjoyed the fact that David liked her hair down. And darn it, even if her clothes—shirt and a shirt made of many scarves—might be rumpled from the long party, she would indulge in this small vanity to look that bit better in front of an old boyfriend.

  Each step closer to David pulled the tension tighter in her stomach, too much like the days when she’d watched from her room for him to step from his house and gesture for her to join him. An instant later she would slip free for a 2:00 a.m. walk along the shoreline while they shared dreams and kisses. She shouldn’t still want a simple conversation with him so much.

  But she did.

  Starr slowed to a stop beside him, careful not to let so much as her flowing scarf top brush against his suit that cost more than she made in a month. “You’re still here.”

  He shifted to face her, leaning back on his elbows. “I could have been anyone lurking around.” His white shirt shone like a beacon in the dark, his suit jacket draped over the dock rail, his tie tucked in the coat pocket, his top two buttons open to reveal a patch of throat she longed to kiss—holy cow he was that much closer to out of his clothes.

  David blinked, slowly, sensually. “You should be more careful. I don’t like your being alone at closing.”

  “I’m not alone.” She forced words past her lips only half-aware of what she said, her body more in tune with the angle of his legs, his arms, the rise and fall of his chest, the widening of his pupils darkening his eyes. “Vic’s upstairs. Seth, too. They’re a simple shout away if I need them.”

  “And does Vic walk you over to the carriage house after closing?” He paused for a slow blink, then angled closer, possessively. “Does this new guy—Seth?”

  David couldn’t be jealous, could he? “First off, I don’t need a man to be my keeper. Second of all, I’m only walking across my own lawn. And third of all—”

  “You run a bar and you’re hot. What if some drunk—”

  “I carry a can of Mace and I have taken a self-defense class—” Hey, had he just paid her a compliment in there? Something about being hot. She indulged in a quick shiver of pleasure before she continued, “You’ll have to accept it when I say that I’m a careful adult. Thank you for being concerned.”

  “And butt out.” His mouth tipped in a one-sided smile made all the more devilish by the stars glinting off his dark hair.

  “I didn’t say it.” She shook her head, her curls teasing her shoulders.

  “You didn’t have to. I hear you loud enough.” His smile faded “Where’s your Mace?”
>
  “Fine. I forgot my purse with my Mace tonight because you’ve shot my concentration to hell. There. Are you satisfied?” She hated the bobble in her voice. “David, I don’t want to argue with you anymore. We’re going to bump into each other for years to come—or until you sell your mother’s big old house. Can’t we find a way to be polite to each other without ending up in bed?”

  That silenced him for seven sloshes of the waves against the dock. He reached, looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest, holding her loosely, his chin resting on her head. “I’m not sure.”

  There was such a familiarity in the way he touched her. Could it simply be because they’d known each other such a long time? Each time she saw him, she resolved she would handle things differently, establish distance, and yet they fell right back into their old patterns of physical ease around each other. Time after time, she tortured herself by allowing touches that couldn’t lead anywhere.

  Except last year…

  Starr stood still, their only contact his hands on her back, his chin on her hair, but ah, she could feel him catching her scent in a primal way. “It was considerate of you to bring Ashley a gift, and such a thoughtful one, too.” Sure it was just a backpack, something that likely didn’t put a dent in his abundant portfolio, but the time and thought expended were far more valuable.

  “You taught me how to pick a gift that fits the person rather than something generic.” A wicked smile of reminiscence creased his tanned features. “I never expected to have roses pitched back in my face.”

  Well, whoa. That tossed cold water on her kissing memories. She tipped back to smile up in his face and let her arms slide to loop around his back in return. “I did not throw them back in your face.”

  “No. Worse yet,” he continued, oddly enough not seeming in the least angry. Rather amused. “You sent them to my mother with a card labeling them From a Secret Admirer. My poor mother freaked out thinking she had a stalker.”

  She settled into the memory with him. “At least you finally got that German shepherd you always wanted.”

  “Günter was a damn good dog.” He paused for the first time with a sentimentality that caught her unaware. However, before she could reach out to offer any sense of comfort, he continued, “Then I tried again with those chocolates that cost my whole allowance because, contrary to popular belief, my mother didn’t let me spend whatever I wanted.”

  What? She hadn’t known that. She felt pretty bad now as she remembered passing out the Godivas like lemon drops at lunch at school. Except afterward he’d watched her more closely and that was cool. Then he’d figured out how much she’d enjoyed her art class. The tubes of paint made into a bouquet of flowers had totally won her over.

  She’d pulled him behind the lockers and plastered a kiss on him that even the memory could have melted those paints had she been holding them today.

  How could he be so Cro-Magnon and thoughtful all at once? That dichotomy had kept her in his bed far longer than had been wise for her heart. All the more reason to leave now because, heaven help her, her heart pounded in her chest so hard surely he could hear. Her quick breaths matched his and knowing he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him upped the ante to sheer torture.

  “Enough, David, that’s all I wanted to say. Thank you, I mean. It’s late and I should turn in. Morning comes too fast. I hope everything is okay with your mother.”

  “Fine. Good night.” He slid one hand free to click off the dock light.

  She should pull away before she did something silly like arch up to press a thank-you kiss on one side of his mouth and a goodbye kiss on the other side. And hey, that felt so good open-mouthed kiss smack dab…

  His arms were tightening around her and dreams had somehow become a reality with his tongue sweeping a deep and strong possession, his hands palming her back to press her breasts against his solid chest. Always, always his touch worked a perfect blend of yes, just like that and please, please more…

  Her hands crawled up his back, the thin cotton of his shirt offering too little barrier to keep out the heat of him. Too much barrier when she wanted to touch skin.

  Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.

  But sweet mercy, she was going to do it anyway. Just a sweep of hard, muscular pecs to give her something to dream about. She skimmed her hands around front to find buttons and made fast work down them until she could touch his chest, feel the gentle abrasion of hair and skin. Muscles pulled tight under her exploration, answering her with an affirmation of want.

  She’d been so busy indulging herself that she’d almost forgotten about David’s hand. An oversight he fixed for her in a hurry as his fingers wandered down her leg with deceptive slowness. Long, lazy fingers. Her heartbeat quickened.

  He slipped his hands under her skirt, up to cup her buttocks and lift her so she meshed torso to torso against him, her feet dangling in midair. He left her with no choice but to trust him, trust his strength to keep her safely in place while they kissed and writhed against each other. Her flesh heated unbearably, her whole body sensitized until she could even feel the kiss of saltwater on the breeze.

  Heaven help her, it would be so easy to raise her legs and wrap them around his waist as she’d done often enough. And before she knew it, her legs locked around him with a sweet familiarity.

  A simple flick of her hand would open his fly and release the steely length of heat she felt against her belly. She wore a thong, so it wouldn’t take much for him to slide aside her panties and plunge inside. But she couldn’t bring herself to take that step.

  Even thinking of it though, her body throbbed—begged—for the release he could bring her. It had been so long. She needed this. Needed him. A whimper escaped her. A whimper that sounded remarkably like a whispered please.

  Please?

  That lone word brought her back to the present. She would never let herself be so swayed by this man or any man again. She’d grown up at the mercy of her parents. Control over her own life meant everything to her.

  With more than a little regret and an ache clear down to her toes, Starr slid her legs from around his waist and down to the dock. Given their height difference, gravity took care of the rest, pulling her lips free from his. Too bad she could still feel the heat of him on her mouth, the taste of him swirling through her.

  With shaking hands she straightened her skirt, fingers plucking at the fabric. Why did something so wonderful have to be so wrong for her? She knew that being with David inevitably led to hurt. What would make her think now could be any different?

  Nothing. She had nothing to go on. And damn, but that made her want to cry, which was dangerous because she just kept picturing that thoughtful pink backpack present for Ashley.

  Starr backed away. “Thank you for coming by the party and thank you for worrying about my parents. You’re good at taking care of people. You’re a good man. But really, we’re okay. We three sisters have been looking out for ourselves for a long time. Granted, dealing with my parents can be tough, but I need to do this. You won’t always be here. So where does that leave me if I only know how to lean on you?”

  He stayed silent though she took some small comfort from the fact that he seemed to struggle for the next breath almost as hard as she did.

  “Exactly,” she said sadly, wondering why she’d almost hoped he would have a quick rebuttal. She backed another step on shaking legs and then another, none of them far enough to cool the heat still searing through her at just his simple eyes on her body. “Goodbye, David.”

  Starr’s farewell still ringing in his ears two hours later, David dropped to lounge against the wooden rail of his veranda, a glass of Scotch in his hand—a poor substitute for what he really wanted to be holding right now.

  The moon shot a road of light across the ocean, so straight and simple. He’d stared at that often as a teen, planning his escape from this place. But he hadn’t bargained on leaving alone.

  His gaze shifted over
to Starr’s carriage house, all lights off where she now no doubt slept.

  Starr. In bed. Naked.

  A recipe for his insanity if ever there’d been one. David scratched behind his ear as if to shake loose that thought enough so he could function better.

  And all the things that came after.

  Still, he had an obligation to see this through. Find out what had brought her parents here and see them on their way. Once he knew Starr was safe, he could return to his normal life. In fact, he had a kick-ass assignment in Turkey coming up within the next two weeks.

  Too bad Starr was so damn resistant to travel after her childhood. The artist within her would really get off on the rainbow display of tapestries to be found even in a simple row of street vendors.

  He even had the perfect means of transportation for private, personal use at his fingertips now.

  Talking with the Jansen cousins at the party, he’d found out more about Vic’s cousin Seth. Apparently the guy was a pilot, small craft sort, who’d invented a must-have security device for airports to help combat attacks on planes during take-off and landing. He’s registered the patent and made a mint.

  Gotta admire the entrepreneurial spirit combined with making a major difference for his country.

  Now he’d bought a local airport to set up search and rescue operation in conjunction with a retired Air Force Special Ops guy, Rick DeMassi.

  An idea sparked in David’s mind. Why wait? He’d been approaching this problem with keeping Starr safe all wrong. He eyed the RVs full of bloodsucking leeches planning God only knew what this go round. No question, he needed to put distance between her and her family. And if he couldn’t uproot them in a timely fashion, why not move Starr?

  What better way than to entice her to go away with him?

  Already he could hear her shriek of outrage, but he could overcome that. He swayed the toughest of people for a living and, quite frankly, given Starr’s response last night, she wouldn’t take that much persuasion.