Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set (68 page)

‘French... ? No, no
French fries.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Cade, everybody here must be over seventy.’

‘Yup. I first drifted into this place about three years ago when I did a concert at the outdoor theatre here on the Bay. It turns out that senior citizens flock here diving the off-season.’ He tilted his head towards hers and winked. ‘They’re a nice bunch, but not exactly fans of mine.’

‘I’m sure that’s one of life’s tragedies, Cade, but...’

He sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘Jesus, woman, you can be dense! No one ever recognizes me here, don’t you understand? These people probably never even heard of the Marauders, so unless I showed up in black tie with an entire symphony orchestra trailing after me, nobody would look at me twice. I can walk along the beach and stop here for chowder and... Look, why don’t you grab that table near the window while I get our lunch?’

She watched as Cade moved from counter to counter, accumulating paper cups and dishes on his tray. Her stomach rumbled at the faint smell of coffee that hung in the air.

The truth was that she was starved, but she wasn’t about to let him know it.

The nerve of the man, riding away with her as if he were a  highwayman! She’d screamed at him to turn back, but by then they were starting across the 59th Street Bridge and the sounds of the wind and the Harley and the road all conspired against her. She’d tried, of course, leaning into Cade’s back until she was plastered to him, her mouth almost against his ear, her arms clutching at the hard muscles of his abdomen...

‘You see? Just five minutes at the beach, and there’s a glow in your cheeks,’ he said triumphantly, setting the tray down on the table. ‘Almost a blush.’

‘One hour, Cade,’ she said quietly. ‘One hour, and then I expect you to take me back to the city.’

‘Just dig in. I got you some F
rench fries, just in case you change your mind.’

‘I won’t. I never eat greasy things. And what’s that?’ she asked, poking at a plastic-wrapped square of darkish cake. ‘A brownie?’ Her voice rose in disbelief. ‘Only a true junk-food junkie would eat something like that. It’s pure sugar.’

‘Hey, I’m the gourmet of roadside diners. Someday, I’m gonna give them ratings. One star to four, only I’ll use antacid tablets instead of stars. Are you going to eat your chowder or do I have to spoon it into you?’

‘I never eat lunch. I have to watch my weight.’

‘I’ll watch it for you. Eat.’

‘Anyway, I don’t like chowder.’

‘Don’t like chowder?’ He stared at her as if she’d spoken heresy. ‘How can anybody not like chowder?’

‘It’s easy,’ she said, and then she sighed in defeat. ‘OK, one mouthful, just to shut you up.’ Quickly, she spooned some of the soup into her mouth and swal
lowed it. ‘But I’m telling you I don’t...’ A surprised look settled on her face at the sudden taste of the sea and she eyed the bowl warily. ‘Well, I’ll admit, that’s not bad…’

‘Eat,’ Cade ordered.

Her stomach growled in agreement. With a resigned sigh, she began to eat her soup. It was warm and soothing, and almost immediately she felt the tension begin to slip away.

Maybe Cade had been right, she thought grudgingly, glancing at him from under her lashes. After all, she hadn’t had a thing since coffee break, and not then, either, she remembered suddenly. She’d been busy with a costume fitting. And the soup really was good. It was thick with clams and potatoes and chunks of tomatoes...

‘Did you say I could have a few of those French fries?’ she asked politely.

Cade grinned. Shannon grinned in return.

‘OK, I give up. The chowder’s good and I love ries. The greasier the better.’

He leaned back in his chair and nodded his head. ‘Yeah, I thought so,’ he said with a smile. ‘You look like a greasy
French-fry type.’

Shannon popped a fry into her mouth.

‘Meaning what—or don’t I want to know?’

‘It means you look like the kind of woman a man can relax with. It means what you really want is to take your shoes off and walk along the sand with me. It means... ’

‘It means I really want that brownie, too,’ she laughed. ‘Especially if it’s got fudge icing.’

‘That is truly decadent,’ Cade declared solemnly, handing the cake to her.

She was groaning by the time they’d finished eating.

‘I’ll never be able to fit into any of my costumes to
morrow,’ she said as they strolled barefoot through the sand. ‘Actually, I may not have anything to worry about. I could be out of a job by then.’

Cade took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

‘Jerry was just pissed at how the day went. Tomorrow will be fine. You’ll see.’

‘I want it to be fine, Cade. That’s why I’ve got to get home and get to work. I admit, this was fun, but...’

‘Fun? Fun? Is that what you think this is, Miss Padgett?’ Cade swung to face her. ‘ This is a workshop exercise. Eli would approve.’

‘Sure,’ she said, smiling at him.

‘Do I detect a note of doubt in your voice? Eli encourages his students to get inside their characters, doesn’t he? Identify with them?’

‘Well, yes, but...’

‘So we’re identifying. I'm the old-fashioned sort, you see. I thought it would be a good idea if we got to know each other a little better before I take you to bed tomorrow. I tell you, this acting business is rough.’

Shannon laughed softly. ‘I see. So this is strictly a working day, hmm?’

‘No, not strictly,’ he said with a quick grin. ‘It’s also therapeutic. And it’s working—you just laughed for the first time all week.’

‘Well, why wouldn’t I? This is a nice place.’

‘Nice? White bread is nice, Padgett. Scrambled eggs are nice. A record that can’t quite make it to the top of the charts is nice.’

‘All right, it’s beautiful,’ she laughed. ‘Is that better?’

He squeezed her hand. ‘Damned right it’s beautiful. You had me worried there for a minute. Here I bring you all the way out to one of my favorite places in the world and... Hey, I’ve got a great idea! Did you ever build sand-castles when you were a kid?’

‘Sand-castles? Cade, we’ve got to get back.’

‘God, the woman is impossible! Just answer the question, Padgett. Did you ever build sand-castles?’

‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I never did.’

Dropping to his knees, he pulled her down beside him. ‘I thought I had a disadvantaged childhood. Yours must have been worse.’

‘I grew up in Kansas,’ she said patiently, sitting back on her heels and watching him. ‘It’s a bit far from the beach.’

‘That’s right, I remember. With all those blushing female relatives. Well, where I come from, you learned to build sand-castles.’

‘It figures. What else would you do in California?’

‘California? I grew up in Newark, New Jersey. Right in the shadow of the Jersey Turnpike.’

‘But I read somewhere... Not true, huh?’

‘Not even close. But one summer my mother got me into a program for city kids and I spent a week at the New Jersey shore. The family that I stayed with had a house right on the beach. It was a terrific seven days! I learned to roast hot dogs over an open fire and swim... ’

‘And make sand-castles?’

He grinned. ‘Not just sand-castles. Sand extravaganzas. Want to learn?’

‘Cade, I’ve really got to go back to the city.’

‘Sure,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Go on. I showed you which way to go.’

He ducked as she flung a handful of sand at him. ‘I’ll ignore that act of violence for the time being, Padgett. Pay attention, now. All you need is something to carry water—this cup will be fine—and a little imagination. And then, you pick the perfect spot—right about here should do it. We’ll have to make strong fortifications, though. I get the feeling that a really big wave washes up here once in a while.’

Shannon watched in silence while he began scooping up handfuls of the fine white sand and flinging it aside. Finally, she shook her head.

‘Are you crazy?’

‘OK, don’t help me. See if I care! I built my best castles without girls, anyway. Girls don’t know the first thing about defenses and walls and turrets. Girls...’ He ducked as a mussel shell hit him on the shoulder. ‘Second act of violence. Three strikes and you’re out.’

‘Girls—even in Kansas—build mud pies and play in the dirt.  And we know all about turrets. After all, did you ever hear of princes getting locked away in castles? It’s always princesses, isn’t it? Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty and... go on, Morgan, shove over,’ she said, pushing up her sleeves and kneeling opposite him. ‘I’ll build you a castle the likes of which you’ve never seen before. Just don’t get in my way.’

Ignoring Cade’s snort of disbelief, Shannon began to dig in earnest. The top layer of sand was sun-warm under her fingers, but as she dug deeper, it became pleasantly cool and damp to the touch. She glanced at him as she worked; he was concentrating on his piece of the sand sculpture with the same intensity he seemed to bring to everything. It was what she’d seen in his performance that night at the Coliseum, and it was what had impressed her most during the time they’d spent together on the set and at the workshop.

Was it that intensity that he’d bring to their love scene, she wondered suddenly,
and to her bed if she invited him into it?

‘How’s it coming,?’ he said. ‘Ready to admit that all the engineers in the world should be men?’

She gave him her number one nasty smile. ‘Go on, laugh. Just wait until the first wave comes in. We’ll see who’s the better builder.’

Maybe his walls were stronger-looking, she thought, glancing from her piece of the castle to his, but her turrets were more imaginative. Surely that was important. Turrets were...

A sudden wave engulfed the shoreline, racing across her bare feet and ankles. The water was so cold that it took her breath away, but all that mattered was that it knocked down a piece of her wall. She fell back to the wet sand and touched the damaged structure with one finger. ‘Cade,’ she wailed, ‘look what happened!’

He sighed dramatically as he knelt beside her. ‘I should have known a woman couldn’t compete in a man’s game. You faked me out with that bit about mud pies, but what’s a mud pie, after all? It doesn’t require a man’s skill and talent. It... Hey, no fair, Padgett, cut it out!’

Her first handful of sand missed its target, but the second sprayed over his shoulders and face.

‘Can’t take the truth, huh?’ he laughed, reaching for her hands. ‘Is that your problem?’

‘You’re a male chauvinist pig, Cade Morgan. That wave came in and headed straight for me... Cade, don’t! Come on, that’s not fair! Cade...’ With a shriek of laughter, Shannon tried to roll free of his grasp, but he pulled her down to the sand and stuffed a handful of the damp stuff down her collar. ‘That’s not fair!’

‘Damned right it’s not,’ he laughed, throwing his leg across her and pinning her body beneath his. ‘Men build better castles than women, Padgett. They’re also bigger and stronger.’

‘That’s it,’ she gasped, ‘if you can’t win fair and square, win by intimidation.’

She was laughing up at him, squirming beneath his weight like a kid in a wrestling match when suddenly the laughter caught in her throat.

Cade’s eyes met hers; the gleam in them faded, replaced by a dark intensity that made something stir deep within her.

‘Cade...let me up.’

Her plea was a whisper, a husky sigh on the salty breeze. He shook his head.

‘You’re beautiful, Shannon,’ he said softly. ‘My fairy
tale princess with sand on her cheeks.’

She drew in her breath as he reached out and stroked her face. Her skin felt as if it were glowing beneath his fingers.

What would he do if she turned her head and pressed her mouth to his palm, she wondered suddenly? Would he take her into his arms and kiss her? Would he make love to her here on the empty beach, with only the gulls to see them while the ocean roared and the wind cooled their passion-heated flesh?

‘Listen,’ he said, and she could hear a touch of ur
gency in his voice, ‘listen, forget the damned play.’

‘What?’ She closed her eyes and then opened them again. ‘I’m not thinking of the play. I...’

‘I don’t mean right now, I mean... Just stop thinking of us as characters on a set.’ His body stirred against hers, and he bent towards her until she could feel the warmth of his breath against her face. ‘Isn’t it time we faced the truth? I want to make love to you—and you want that, too. You know you do. That’s why you can’t play that damned scene.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. The scene embarrasses me, that’s all. It was the same with
Tony.’‘The hell it was the same with Tony! You’re scared to play the scene with me because you’re scared of feeling something.’

She turned her face away from his. ‘Acting doesn’t involve feeling.’

‘What we feel for each other hasn’t got a damned thing to do with acting,’ he growled, cupping her chin in his hand and forcing her face towards his. ‘And we both know it.

She took a shuddering breath. ‘Don’t you see how artificial all this is? Jerry Crawford brought us together.’