Moonlight on Monterey Bay (15 page)

She waited, not breathing, her body drowning in sensation while Sam’s head slowly lowered, his lips coming down upon her pale smooth skin, touching, kissing. He circled her nipple with his tongue and she thought she would die, right there on the sandy, damp beach. She wanted it to go on and on and on, this unmuddled joy given to her by this unlikely man.

Sam stripped off his own shirt and slid them both down, their bodies lining up on the rumpled blanket. She was so natural in her nakedness, he thought, so beautiful and unaffected. The sudden feeling that if
he didn’t touch her she might disappear was so strong that he reached out and rested his fingers on her cheek. She smiled at his touch, then reached over and laid her palm across his chest, her fingers exploring the contours of his body from one side to the other, then settling in the thatch of sandy hair.

Sam was immobile as long as he could be, absorbing the rhythm of her touch and the waves of arousal it set off. When he bent to kiss her, she was waiting, lips slightly apart. He pulled her close, kissing her slowly at first, and then with the hunger of a starved man, pausing only for quick breaths.

Maddie kissed him back eagerly, pressing into his kiss, her mind blocking out all reality save for the delicious sensations that surged through her, as strong as the sea.

“I think this is it,” Sam said, struggling to get out words.

“Making out?” she whispered.

He nodded solemnly, then nibbled on her bottom lip.

Maddie’s throaty laughter slipped between them, heating his lips. “I think … I think it’s nice, this
making out
.…”

Sam’s fingers trailed down her breasts, circling them, tracking lines of fire. The wind picked up and threw a small sprinkling of sand across her bare skin, and he carefully, reverently, brushed it away. His fingers dipped beneath the band of her skirt.

Maddie tensed.

Sam felt her body tighten. He looked up, into the green sea of her eyes. “Maddie?”

Her hands splayed out across his chest. The smile wobbled slightly. “Sam, I—”

The noise she thought was her heart grew louder then, carrying away the rest of her unspoken thoughts, and they both looked up, just in time to meet the first large drops of warm rain.

Sam shook his head. “Some timing.” He roughly threaded his fingers through his damp hair, then sat up and reached for his extra sweater. “Here, you wear this, Maddie.” He helped her pull it over her head.

She smiled gratefully and grabbed her tank top, folding it into a small patch and tucking it beneath her arm.

Sam grabbed the blanket and bunched it up, and as the thunder rolled in on the waves, they ran hand in hand across the now deserted beach and up the steps to the street.

In minutes they were back at Maddie’s house, standing beneath the streetlight, their bodies drenched and their emotions raw. Rain fell warm and heavy all around them, puddling around their shoes and running down the sidewalk in wavy rivers.

“Sam—” Maddie looked up into his eyes, her smile fading. She licked a raindrop from her upper lip. She had let it all go to hell, all her resolve. She probably would have made love with him right there on the
beach. She had craved his closeness, wanted it desperately. But it wasn’t just the closeness that she had wanted, or the completion of that sweet, incredible desire. It was
him
. It was Sam. She had wanted Sam Eastland.

Sam brushed her damp hair back from her face and looked into her eyes, trying to read her emotions. He caressed her cheek. “What do you suppose is going on here, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“But you want to go in now. Alone.” It wasn’t a question. He could read it in her eyes. Once the rain fell, reality had sunk in. There was more going on here than a one-night stand—and it frightened the smile off her beautiful face. She needed space, he could see, some time to think about it. Maybe he did too.

“It’s late.” Maddie reached up and touched Sam’s hair, then slid her fingers through the wet, loose strands. His hair was longer now than when they first met, just long enough to take off that austere businessman edge. Touching him felt so good.
He
felt so good.

Unmuddled joy was perhaps not so unmuddled after all.

“It’s not that it wasn’t a great evening—” she began again.

Sam nodded, then silenced her murmurs with the soft touch of his mouth, a lingering sweet kiss.

When cool air fanned her face, she stayed in place, standing there at the curb in the rain, unmoving. And when she finally opened her eyes, Sam was in the car, his hands on the wheel, his mesmeric blue eyes holding her in a warm embrace. His smile tugged at her heart. “Go on in, Maddie,” he said, his voice rough. “You’ll drown out here.”

She ran up the stairs and inside, his words echoing behind her. No, she wouldn’t drown. Never again. No matter what, Maddie was a survivor.

NINE

Maddie slept fitfully, arguing endlessly with herself. She hadn’t been with a man in five years.

And the realization that she wanted to be with Sam so desperately was destroying the order she had painfully brought to her life. The man she would give herself to—another foolish, ambiguous expression, she thought—would be someone she could trust completely. And someone who felt as strongly about family, about children, as she did. Sam Eastland was none of those. And yet he was there. He had slipped into her heart on silent, sure feet.

When Sam didn’t call or come by on Sunday, Maddie told herself that was good. A relief. Time and distance, she thought. Important things. And she treated herself to a long soothing run along the beach and a quiet evening curled up writing in her journal.

Monday she accepted some deliveries at the beach house and could see that Sam had closed up the house and gone back to San Jose. Work, of course. And he needed some distance from the intensity of their feelings for each other as much as she did. She shoved away the unwelcome disappointment.

Tuesday, frustration set in. And missing Sam intensified so, that even Eeyore sensed it, casting her long sorrowful looks.

By Thursday, Maddie refused to allow any of her convoluted feelings to surface, and kept them at bay by attacking her work with a fierceness that had Joseph staying out of her way and even Eeyore hiding beneath the desk. There were several new clients lined up for Ocean Interiors, all products of the Santa Cruz grapevine, which deemed East of the Ocean a showplace, and consequently, Oceans Interior was the perfect designer for anyone redoing anything that summer.

And Maddie was acting as if every job needed to be finished yesterday.

“How much is left to do at Sam’s place?” Joseph asked, venturing as far as her doorway.

Maddie didn’t look up when she answered. “Not much, Joseph. A couple of bedroom sets and some plantings I ordered. Several paintings by that artist up in Scotts Valley.”

Four days without a word. Not a call, not a hello, a good-bye, nothing. Part of her said,
That’s good, Maddie. Easier. The best way
. The other part, the part
that ached, waited for the phone to ring or his footsteps to sound in the hallway.

“Eleanor said Sam thinks you’re extremely talented,” Joseph said.

Maddie’s head snapped up. “Talented?” And then she lowered her head again. Was it the way she kissed him?

“Maddie, I think your mind is somewhere else today. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? What could be wrong, Joseph? The phone is ringing off the hook. We’re in demand.”

Joseph stood there for a minute longer, looking at her, his bushy brows and clear gray gaze a comfort to her.

On Friday, Joseph caught her when she was rushing in the office to pick up the keys to a client’s house.

“Maddie, I have a message for you. Sam called several times.”

Maddie stopped in her tracks. “Sam?”

“Eastland,” Joseph said with a smile.

“Oh?” She forced a calmness and nonchalance into her voice.

“He said he’ll meet you here at the office at five.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Concern, frustration, confusion, desire—all had been churning around inside her for days. And now relief at hearing he was all right, alive, thinking of her, gave way to a bubble of anger. It felt good, this anger. Manageable. Wonderful. She
lifted one brow and looked at Joseph. “And what makes Sam think I’ll be here at five o’clock? Am I at his beck and call?”

Joseph looked at her in surprise.

“Well, tell him I work nine to five, bub, and that’s it!”

“Bub?” Joseph tried to hide his smile.

“It just so happens I won’t be here at five. At five o’clock I’m meeting Stanley Everest at the Saturn Café.”

“And why are you doing that?”

Maddie folded her arms across her chest and tipped her chin up. “Because he’s a client, and it was the only time he could meet.” Her emotions were all out there, hanging on the line. She turned her head so Joseph wouldn’t see, stuffed a pile of papers into her briefcase, and with her heart in her throat, spun on her Birkenstocks and left the building, a blur of bright cotton skirt.

The Saturn Café, a friendly, popular eating place, was alive with smells and sounds. In the corner was a lone customer, his laptop computer sharing space with his burger, and at the next table was a couple playing chess. Everywhere there was chatter and elbow-to-elbow people.

In the farthest part of the room, seated at a small table beneath a ceiling painting of Saturn with all its
moons, Maddie sat back in the wooden chair and smiled at Stanley Everest. “We’ll get started Monday. I’m glad you’re pleased with these ideas, Mr. Everest.”

“Pleased as punch, young lady. What I know about design would fit in a teacup, but I know what I like, and I like this.” His hand fell with a thud on a stack of loose papers. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it on top of his plate.

Maddie smiled.

“Hi.” The deep voice came out of nowhere, but the effect on Maddie was startling. She looked up into Sam’s face.

Sam stuck out his hand to a surprised Stanley Everest. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Sam Eastland. And I hate to barge in like this, but have you finished your business with Ms. Ames?”

“Well, we were just—”

“Good. I thought so. You won’t mind, then, if I steal her away? It’s an emergency.”

Before Maddie could utter a word, Sam had wound his fingers around her wrist and was tugging her to her feet.

“Sam, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, but before Maddie could say anything, they were weaving their way through the throng of diners toward the door.

“Hey, Maddie—” a man called from behind the counter. “I had two no-shows. Any chance you could give us a half hour?”

Maddie’s arm was outstretched now, a bridge between herself and Sam, who held fast to her hand. “Sure,” she said, wrestling her hand free. “In fact, it’s your lucky day, George. We’ll both help!”

Before Sam’s frown took actual form, Maddie had grabbed two aprons and thrust one at him. “I used to work here,” she said calmly. “I owe them. Surely your emergency can wait a minute.” She grabbed a pad of paper and waved a pencil at him. “Come on, Sam, don’t just stand there. There’s work to be done.”

She didn’t know what had possessed her, but maybe it was the jolt, the confusion of seeing Sam, of her emotions immediately bubbling up to the surface like a shaken can of soda pop. Or the uncomfortable feeling of not having the upper hand, of not being in control. At least she had bought herself a little time, enough to calm her heartbeat, to keep herself from doing what she’d like to do right there beneath the painted planet, something even the hospitable Saturn Café crowd might have trouble sanctioning.

After a half hour of frantic activity, she took a minute to lean against the wall and survey the room, her eyes searching for Sam. He might have left, for all she knew. Maybe that’s what she was doing, giving him some kind of litmus test that would prove they were totally incompatible. She was the kind of person who would do this, wait on tables in a crowded café
on a minute’s notice. And he, well, he was a busy, important executive who couldn’t be bothered with such trivial stuff.

Then she spotted Sam and her heart skidded to a stop. He was over in the corner of the crowded café, back where tables had been replaced by a comfortable couch and chair, and a table lamp cast a warm, friendly glow. He was talking with a professor who often sat there, grading his papers and eating Saturn sundaes. Sam held a platter of tofu burgers in one hand while he kidded with the professor, then answered a question from someone behind him about a menu item, then scooped up some dirty dishes and slid them onto his tray with admirable finesse. And the frown was gone. Completely.

It was shortly after that that he came up behind her, untying her apron as he leaned close and whispered into her ear. “Come on, sweet one. George said we can go.”

“But—”

“No buts, Maddie my love, we’re out of here. Now!” He waved at a man behind the counter, who waved back and called out, “Thanks for helping out, Sam.”

“
Thanks, Sam?
” Maddie mumbled.

“Out, Maddie,” Sam said, and urged her outside, where the familiar green Jaguar was waiting at the curb.