Bombshell For The Black Sheep. Janice Maynard

as she shimmied her skirt up her thighs. Maybe he was wrong about the foreplay. Fiona’s legs were enough to keep a man awake at night. When she moved behind him, he hitched her up on his back and curled his hands beneath her warm, supple thighs.

      Fortunately for his self-control, the path beneath the house and out to the gate was not far. Fee reached around him to disengage the lock, and soon they were at the water’s edge. He let her slide off his back slowly, steadying her with one hand as she stumbled.

      There was no moon. The water seemed dark and menacing. But the whoosh and roar of the waves was a familiar lullaby from his childhood.

      He tried to empty his mind of all the sorrow and confusion that had consumed him since he heard the news that his father was dead. Gradually, the inexorable pattern of the tide soothed him.

      Fiona stood at his side in silence, her presence both a comfort and a niggling frustration. Twice now, he had made love to her and walked away. The first time, he’d had no choice. The second, he’d been reluctant to embroil her in his family drama. Maybe he sensed that he was using Fiona as a crutch. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to let her get inside his head. In both instances, his behavior was logical if not particularly admirable. But what was going to happen moving forward?

      If he still wanted to sleep with Fee, and he did, most emphatically, then he needed not only her absolution, but also some notion of what was ahead for him professionally. Anything beyond that was more than he wanted to contemplate right now.

      Almost as if she had read his mind, Fiona spoke softly. “What do you do for a living, Hartley? We’ve flirted and slept together, but I don’t really know much about you at all.”

      Her question prodded an unseen wound. He cleared his throat. “Well, before I left Charleston for an extended period, I was a full partner in Tarleton Shipping. We were working on a proposal to add a boatbuilding arm...pleasure craft. That whole deal was going to be my baby.”

      “And now?”

      He shrugged. “I doubt my brother has any interest in working with me after everything that has happened.”

      “Because of this mysterious falling-out?”

      “Yeah.” He sighed. “Jonathan is one of the finest men I’ve ever known. A straight arrow all the way. But as alike as we are physically, our personalities don’t always mesh.”

      “Why did you not live at the beach house?”

      “I got tired of butting heads with my father over the business. Jonathan had a knack for handling him with kid gloves. Dad and I only yelled at each other. Several years ago I bought an investment property at a premier golf community north of the city. I was the one who would wine and dine clients. Play a few rounds with them on the course. I liked being outdoors, even if golf wasn’t really my thing. But I closed deals and grew the business.”

      “Who has done that while you’ve been gone?”

      It was a simple question. Not meant to inflict pain. But it hit at the heart of his guilt. “I don’t know.” Fiona hadn’t been the only one he hurt when he’d hared off to Europe. He’d left behind his family and the shipping business and cut all contact. He’d had his reasons. In retrospect, though, he honestly didn’t know if he’d done the right thing.

      Fiona moved restlessly. “The beach is lovely, Hartley. I really do need to get home, though.”

      “I promised you explanations. It’s late. I don’t suppose I could sleep on your sofa?” He threw it out there hopefully. Fiona’s little house represented the peace and comfort he had lost in this last year.

      “No,” she said bluntly. Without another word, she started up the beach toward the gate in the high brick wall.

      “Fair enough.” He loped up the incline and scooped her into his arms. It was a tougher slog through the loose sand this way, but he persevered. He needed to hold her.

      Fiona didn’t fight him. As soon as they were back at the car, though, she insisted on wriggling out of his embrace. After smoothing her hair and brushing the sand from her feet, she put on her sexy sandals.

      Then she stood, hands on her hips, and watched him re-dress. “You don’t owe me explanations. I told you that.”

      He rounded the car and cupped her face in his hands. Lightly. Gently. “I want to tell you, Fee. And in the spirit of honesty, I’d like to sleep with you again.”

       “Sleep?”

      She had him there. “Sex,” he muttered. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a jerk. But he wouldn’t dress it up. He couldn’t offer her anything more. His life was total chaos. Besides, Fiona would demand full-on honesty and intimacy from any man who shared her life for the long haul. That wasn’t him.

      Her expression was mutinous. In the glow of the security light, the stubborn tilt to her chin was obvious. “Sex isn’t the answer to all your problems, Hartley.”

      “Maybe not, but it would be damned good, and if you’re honest, you’ll agree. I know I messed up. I won’t do that to you again.”

      “How can I believe you?” Her low laugh held a hint of dismay. “It’s a painful cliché, but I’m a kid who came through the foster system. Never got adopted. I have a few abandonment issues. Your recent behavior hasn’t helped.”

      How many women would have the guts to be so vulnerable? He had a lot to answer for and no clear idea how to fix the messes he had created. “I want to kiss you, Fee,” he muttered. “But I’m trying my damnedest to respect your boundaries.”

      Tears glittered in her eyelashes. She sniffed. “Shut up and do it, you aggravating man.”

      It was all the invitation he needed. He wanted to snatch her up and take everything she had to give. Instead, he kissed her coaxingly, softly. Trying to tell her without words how much he regretted his missteps.

      Fiona made a choked little noise in her throat and finally kissed him back. When her slender arms curled around his neck, he felt as if he had won the lottery. She was soft and perfect against his chest. He lifted her off her feet, desperate to make the kiss last.

      “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “So sorry I hurt you.”

      “You’re forgiven. Doesn’t mean I’m a glutton for punishment.” She pushed away from him after a few seconds. Reluctantly, he let her go.

      “So, what now?” he asked quietly.

      “Nothing. At least not today. Or even tomorrow. Twice, I let you talk your way into my bed like I was a sixteen-year-old girl with her first crush. That was my mistake. I make no guarantees, Hartley. None.”

      He rolled his shoulders, realizing ruefully that he had been a little unrealistic about where this evening might lead. Even if he’d been saying all the right things, apparently his libido had jumped ahead to more titillating scenarios. “Understood,” he sighed.

      He started the engine and waited for her to climb into the front seat. The ocean breeze had tousled her hair. It stood up around her head like a nimbus, making her a weary goddess...or a naughty nymph.

      Which did he want? The angel or the sexy sprite? In his imagination, she was both.

      He turned the radio on for the drive back to Charleston. As they pulled away from his father’s home, Hartley glanced in the rearview mirror. Jonathan stood at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest.

      Seeing his brother tonight had been surprisingly painful. After all this time, Hartley had been hoping Jonathan might have relented...that he had come to know instinctively that Hartley would never do anything to bring harm to his family.

      But apparently, some hurts ran deep. Jonathan wasn’t wiping the slate clean. In fact, he hadn’t made any mention of the future at all. Hartley was on his own.

      When they reached Fiona’s