One Wild Night. Heidi Rice

No, I don’t trust you.”

      Ally was a breath of fresh air—and honest to a fault. “I’m hurt,” he teased.

      Looking sideways at him, she amended her statement. “But I don’t distrust you, either.”

      That easy smile was really starting to work on him. “It’s a start.”

      “And you did save me from Fred.”

      “Very true. Surely that merits something.”

      “If you were a Boy Scout, maybe a badge of some sort.” She bit her lip again, sending a jolt through him. “But I don’t think you’re a Boy Scout.”

      “You do know how to wound a man. I may not be a Boy Scout, but I am a good sailor. You needn’t have any worries about surviving the experience. I’ll bet you’ll even enjoy it, despite your reservations.”

      She didn’t pick up the gauntlet, but she was coming around. “How about the medium-size one? I can work my way up from there.”

      “How about dinner instead? If you still want to start small after that, then I’ll get the dinghy. But I think you’ll come to see the benefits of not setting your sights too low.”

      Confusion crinkled her forehead, and it took all he had not to reach for her and drag her below, but there was nothing below but a couple of narrow bunks, completely useless for what he had in mind. “Dinner?” she asked.

      He feigned shock. “Of course. You don’t expect me to go sailing with a woman I barely know, do you?”

      Ally laughed and nudged him with an elbow. “I don’t know what to expect from you.”

      “Just a good time, that much I can assure you.” For us both.

      “Then it’s a deal.” Ally stuck out her hand, but instead of shaking it, he squeezed it gently.

      Slightly flustered, she stood and brushed at her dress with her free hand. “Should I, um, go change?”

      “You look amazing.” She blushed at the simple compliment, and something primal and protective stirred in his stomach. It was an odd feeling. “I, on the other hand, need to shower. You can’t be seen in public with an unwashed swabbie.”

      Ally squeezed his hand back as she apologized. “Fred’s a jerk. That comment was uncalled for.”

      “I’ve been called worse by better.”

      “But still…”

      She seemed so earnest in her apology and need to console. “Forget it, Ally.You’re not responsible for the actions of others.”

      A shrug was her only response.

      “Where are you staying? I’ll come get you around seven.”

      “The Cordova Inn. How about I meet you in the lobby?”

      He nodded, and steadied her as she stepped onto the dock. The Circe bobbed as she did, and the boat felt a bit empty once she’d left. He was admiring the gentle sway of her hips when she turned and gave a small wave. Another moment and she was around the building and out of sight.

      Well, this was an expected turn of events. He’d come to Tortola to get the Circe and found the delicious Ally, as well. His father had called the Circe a lucky boat, and now he had proof. Not that he was ever one to question his luck—he’d learned early on to take advantage of whatever winds came his way.

      He went below to get his shaving kit and wished the repairs were further along. Or that he’d at least gotten a proper bed installed. He didn’t mind crashing on the narrow bunks, but the Circe’s cabin was low on creature comforts and not exactly conducive to pastimes other than racing.

      That would change, just not soon enough.

      Of course, the arrival of Mickey and Victor tomorrow would also put a damper on any on-board activities with Ally. Which reminded him—he still had supplies to stow and he needed to call home.

      He’d call and check in with Grace, just to be sure there wasn’t anything too pressing, then he’d call Pops and mollify him over the extended absence.

      Thanks to the Circe, the company, the Dagny, and his grandfather were all far away and would remain so for the next few weeks. He stretched, and his fingertips grazed the Circe’s bulkheads. He was a free man. Somewhat free, he amended as his phone alerted him to an incoming text message.

      It could wait a while though. Ally was far more interesting than another discussion of the Dagny’s sails or OWD business.

      He grabbed his shaving kit and a clean shirt and headed to the marina to shower.

      Ally held her composure until she was sure Chris was no longer in sight, then she sagged against the wall of one of the marina buildings. Her legs felt shaky as she let out her breath in a long, unbelieving sigh.

      Had that really happened? Had she really just met a real-life Adonis and agreed to…to…She shook herself. Technically, she had only agreed to dinner and a sail, but deep down she was pretty sure she’d agreed to something far more. Chris’s interest went beyond taking her sailing. She wasn’t that naive.

      She was, however, completely out of her league. Men like Chris just didn’t appear in her world every day. Men like Chris were the stuff of fantasies. Or movies. They certainly didn’t appear out of nowhere like a dream come true and take an interest in mousy little accountants.

      “God, I love this island.”

      She wrapped her arms around her stomach and enjoyed the thrill. She had an urge to find that fiancé-banging stupid travel agent and give her a big kiss. Checking her watch, she was amazed to realize dinner wasn’t that far off. She only had a little over an hour to wait, but at the same time, that hour seemed like an eternity. Not that she was interested in food. That feeling in her stomach definitely wasn’t hunger pangs.

      Taking a deep breath, she pushed off the wall and found that her legs still weren’t completely stable. Which was appropriate, since she wasn’t sure she was mentally stable at the moment, either. These things just didn’t happen to her. But it had, and she was willing—make that more than willing—to grab this moment and run with it.

      She covered the short distance between the marina and the inn in record time and hurried to her room. The light on her phone blinked, indicating she had a message waiting at the front desk, but she ignored it. She wasn’t the least bit interested in her fruity family or whatever crisis they’d concocted for themselves today.

      Her wardrobe was limited, as she’d never considered this possibility while packing, and she grimaced at the selection. All of it plain, boring, unexciting—rather like her at times. She wished she had time to go shopping, to find something better, but the clock was ticking. When she got home, she’d do some serious shopping to remedy the sad state of her wardrobe. She did find another sundress that was dressier than the one she had on and wasn’t shaped like a potato sack. It would have to do.

      She showered again and took extra time getting ready, wanting to look as good as possible, but her hair wasn’t cooperating. Sighing, she settled for another braid, tucking in the frizzing strands as best she could. At one minute after seven, she took a deep breath and headed for the lobby, half expecting Chris not to show up.

      But he did, looking like something out of a magazine in loose linen slacks and button-down shirt with his blond-streaked hair brushed back from his face. That fluttery feeling in her stomach bloomed back to life, followed rapidly by the urge to suggest a quiet dinner in her room.

      Chris leaned in to kiss her gently on the cheek, an innocent enough greeting under any other circumstances, but in this case, one that melted her insides and made her knees wobble.

      “You look fantastic.”

      “Thanks. So do you.” Those blue eyes were going to be the