her, smoothing the torn wrapping paper over her lap as she spoke. ‘Why don’t you give your sexy skipper a call and tell him you’re cleared for the rest of the afternoon? He’s single with an all-male crew, right? He’d probably love a bit of female company.’
Brie was slow in smiling but she unfolded herself and stood. ‘I might just do that. If you’re sure.’
‘Of course I am. I’m going to check on our ride for tomorrow, make sure everything’s okay, take a stroll around the harbour while I’m out.’ Anything to soothe tomorrow’s nervous anticipation. ‘See you later.’
* * *
An hour later Olivia walked downstairs on her way to the marina, going over last-minute details in her head. And Jett’s disappearance. This evening was the last chance for him and his sister to catch up before the race, and he’d walked out on her.
Following a hunch, she detoured via the bar and bingo —she saw Jett propped on a bar stool, a beer in his hands. Chatting up the long tall brunette beside him who looked as if she’d been poured into her shimmery red sheath. Reindeer antlers bobbed on her head as she talked and smiled and pushed her boobs into his personal space.
She counted herself lucky she and Jett hadn’t taken things further and watched the pair of them. On closer inspection, she noticed the brunette seemed to be doing most of the talking.
The woman he should have been talking with was Brie, but no. It just demonstrated oh-so-clearly that was how men were and why she didn’t waste her time with them.
Like her father’s decision to leave when Mum had got sick. Easier to walk away than to face the tough times. Like Brie’s dad—Jett’s father—who’d walked away from a child he’d made.
Jason who’d walked away because he didn’t like her sexual inexperience.
Maybe Jett felt her silent criticism because he turned and looked right at her. Déjà vu. Last night all over again, except this time Olivia was ready for the delicious onslaught. She wouldn’t be seduced a second time.
He slid off the stool without so much as a glance back at the woman he’d been talking with and headed Olivia’s way. Her jaw firmed as painful memories scratched over old scars. Like father like son. Olivia’s father hadn’t looked back either.
She watched the confident way he approached her, his long strides closing the gap between them, an almost-lift at one corner of his mouth. As if this afternoon hadn’t happened and he was ready to continue with Olivia where they’d left off last night.
She lifted both hands waist high, palms out in front of her. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she told him crisply across a couple or so metres of floor space.
‘Olivia. Nice name, by the way. We never got as far as introducing ourselves last night.’
His voice was casual but when he reached her she realised he wasn’t ready to carry her off and have his way with her after all. He had the attitude down pat, but the darker, almost distant glint in his already dark eyes told a different story. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’
‘What about your lady friend?’ Olivia jutted her chin towards the bar.
‘She’s not with me. I was being polite.’
Frustration seethed in her blood and her voice gathered strength as it rose. ‘You want to talk about polite?’
He took her arm, turned her around and steered her towards the door. ‘Why don’t we walk while we talk—unless you want an audience?’
‘Fine. I’m headed to the marina to check on our yacht.’ Then because she remembered telling Brie to give Jett time only an hour earlier, she injected a composure she didn’t feel into her voice and asked, ‘Would you care to join me?’
They hit the crowded, sun-baked footpath. Jett might have only just met Olivia but he’d known she’d hunt him down. He knew what she was going to say too, because he had to admit he’d been a bit of an ass. He was going to have to smooth things over.
Which was fine with him because he
Brie was slow in smiling but she unfolded herself and stood. ‘I might just do that. If you’re sure.’
‘Of course I am. I’m going to check on our ride for tomorrow, make sure everything’s okay, take a stroll around the harbour while I’m out.’ Anything to soothe tomorrow’s nervous anticipation. ‘See you later.’
* * *
An hour later Olivia walked downstairs on her way to the marina, going over last-minute details in her head. And Jett’s disappearance. This evening was the last chance for him and his sister to catch up before the race, and he’d walked out on her.
Following a hunch, she detoured via the bar and bingo —she saw Jett propped on a bar stool, a beer in his hands. Chatting up the long tall brunette beside him who looked as if she’d been poured into her shimmery red sheath. Reindeer antlers bobbed on her head as she talked and smiled and pushed her boobs into his personal space.
She counted herself lucky she and Jett hadn’t taken things further and watched the pair of them. On closer inspection, she noticed the brunette seemed to be doing most of the talking.
The woman he should have been talking with was Brie, but no. It just demonstrated oh-so-clearly that was how men were and why she didn’t waste her time with them.
Like her father’s decision to leave when Mum had got sick. Easier to walk away than to face the tough times. Like Brie’s dad—Jett’s father—who’d walked away from a child he’d made.
Jason who’d walked away because he didn’t like her sexual inexperience.
Maybe Jett felt her silent criticism because he turned and looked right at her. Déjà vu. Last night all over again, except this time Olivia was ready for the delicious onslaught. She wouldn’t be seduced a second time.
He slid off the stool without so much as a glance back at the woman he’d been talking with and headed Olivia’s way. Her jaw firmed as painful memories scratched over old scars. Like father like son. Olivia’s father hadn’t looked back either.
She watched the confident way he approached her, his long strides closing the gap between them, an almost-lift at one corner of his mouth. As if this afternoon hadn’t happened and he was ready to continue with Olivia where they’d left off last night.
She lifted both hands waist high, palms out in front of her. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she told him crisply across a couple or so metres of floor space.
‘Olivia. Nice name, by the way. We never got as far as introducing ourselves last night.’
His voice was casual but when he reached her she realised he wasn’t ready to carry her off and have his way with her after all. He had the attitude down pat, but the darker, almost distant glint in his already dark eyes told a different story. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’
‘What about your lady friend?’ Olivia jutted her chin towards the bar.
‘She’s not with me. I was being polite.’
Frustration seethed in her blood and her voice gathered strength as it rose. ‘You want to talk about polite?’
He took her arm, turned her around and steered her towards the door. ‘Why don’t we walk while we talk—unless you want an audience?’
‘Fine. I’m headed to the marina to check on our yacht.’ Then because she remembered telling Brie to give Jett time only an hour earlier, she injected a composure she didn’t feel into her voice and asked, ‘Would you care to join me?’
They hit the crowded, sun-baked footpath. Jett might have only just met Olivia but he’d known she’d hunt him down. He knew what she was going to say too, because he had to admit he’d been a bit of an ass. He was going to have to smooth things over.
Which was fine with him because he
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