Twila's Tempest Read online

  “Port and Starboard,” he said watching her intently. “The bridge is where I command the vessel.”

  She gawked at him.

  “Steer the ship.”

  “Oh, of course.” Being alone with Drake flustered her more than she expected. It had been bad enough driving with him to the supply store and then eating with him the other day.

  “Why don’t you let me teach you?”

  She covered her shoulders with her sweater, glad he’d suggested taking it. “Teach me what?”

  “About the Rebecca. Maybe about navigation and the sea, if it interests you. I think you’ll pick it up fast.”

  “I’ve always been interested in the ocean, but I never knew anyone who had a boat.”

  He raised his brows. “No one?”

  She surveyed the gleaming walls and the rich color of the floor. Deck. It was called a deck. A ladder connected the top story with the main deck. “I had a boyfriend in college that had a speed boat.”

  “Really,” he said with a teasing lilt. “And did he take you fishing?”

  She cocked a brow at him. “Yes. Why?”

  “Did he teach you how to fish or something else?” he asked, with the same tease in his voice.

  “Never mind.”

  She raised her chin, his warm chuckle bringing heat to her cheeks. The wind played with his bangs and the urge to brush them aside made her latch her fingers together. The warm timbre of his voice slid under her skin, but unlike a bothersome sliver, she didn’t want to remove it.

  “I don’t mean to mock you, but teasing you is kinda fun.” He jerked his head wanting her to follow, and led her to the left side of the ship.

  “You need to spend more time with your parents, not me,” she said, looking over the beautiful vessels in the marina.

  “As much as I love my parents, I think a little space is good, and maybe you could use a break from the park. If the residents can’t find you, they can’t make you dig out fence posts.”

  “True.” She sighed and breathed in a deep breath of sea air.

  “You’re tired, aren’t you, Twila?”

  She looked up at him and nodded. “But, it’s a good tired.”

  “If we escaped with the Rebecca, no one could find us.”

  She laughed. Drake knew how to disarm a woman, and she bet he was a good salesman without being pushy. “Sounds like you’re trying to convince me to play hooky.”

  “Seriously, let’s do it. I’ll even teach you how to command the Rebecca.”

  “Whoa, are you kidding me?”

  “I think you’ll love it,” he paused. “Think I would too.”

  Did he forget Heather existed? She’d be none too happy if they spent a single second together, even as friends. “Drake, I—as much as I would like that. I’m too busy and—”

  “And you’re thinking you’re going to piss Heather off,” he finished for her.

  “I don’t think she’d be impressed with you giving me private lessons.”

  “Don’t care.”

  Her gaze flashed to his.

  He shook his head. “I don’t. I really don’t.” He bowed his head. “I mean, I’ve got a business, and you used to have a business. We have things in common.” He shrugged a broad shoulder. “Yeah, um. I just…Mom and Dad care about you, and…”

  For a change, he looked uncomfortable as she watched him.

  He cleared his throat. “If you spent time with me…I mean us—here, on the Rebecca, you’d feel more comfortable on board. Even mom knows this ship from stem to stern.”

  Drake shoved his hands in his jean pockets and turned his head to look out toward the sea.

  Biting her lip, she deliberated on whether spending more time with him would make the butterflies in her stomach fly south or north.

  “I can be chief cook and bottle washer,” she offered, seeing he’d become very quiet.

  “Of course, why else would you be invited?” came Heather’s response from the dock.

  Chapter Eight

  They both looked over to see Heather standing on the dock. She placed both hands on her mouth and blew him a kiss.

  “I made it back early, baby. I wouldn’t miss a trip on the Rebecca for anything. Help me aboard would you?”

  “Heather, hey. I thought you were on a shoot.” He walked over to the stairs where Heather waited. Her spiked heels clicked as she reached for his hand, and then slung her arms around his neck, powering a kiss on his lips as he lifted her on board.

  “I missed you.”

  Drake’s eyes flitted away, and he gently balanced the leggy model on the vessel.

  “Twila, if you’re cooking, I have a few allergies you should know about.”

  Drake untangled himself and brushed a hand through his hair.

  “Heather?” Becka said with more than a little surprise, appearing from the inside cabin.

  “Mrs. Addison, hello. I rushed back from my shoot today. I wanted a chance for us to talk a little more. We didn’t really get an opportunity at your party.”

  “Well, yes, that was unfortunate,” Becka responded icily.

  Drake put distance between himself and the she-wolf. “Make yourselves comfortable while we get underway.”

  “Twila, would you please get me a soda water with lime and vodka. I’m parched,” Heather said, fanning herself.

  Becka gripped Twila’s hand and pulled her toward the back doors of the cabin. “We’ll make the drinks.”

  Becka yanked the alcohol and mix from the cabinet, all the while muttering to herself, but ‘scheming bitch’ seemed to pop out louder than the other words. Twila peeked through the window as the engines came to life beneath her. After making the drinks, she wandered outside. Heather was nowhere to be seen.

  Drake appeared from the top deck, and slid down the ladder instead of stepping on each rung. She watched him approach her, a serious expression weighing down his brow. “I had no idea she was going to do this.”

  “It’s fine, Drake. She’s your girlfriend. Can I help with the lines?”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He closed the distance between them and his sharp jaw hinged tight. “At least until I teach you how to do it.”

  Change the subject. Step away from the engaging man who made her feel all weird, she ordered herself. “You’re serious?”

  His gaze stopped on hers, and she saw he really was.

  “I am.”

  Drake’s father appeared from the upper deck. “Ready to let go?” he yelled down.

  Drake waved at him. “You stay here, I’ll cast off.”

  She watched him vault over the side, release the rope secured to the dock at the front of the yacht, then he sauntered to the rear and removed the loop from the iron thingy, tossing the rope onto the back deck. Twila gathered it together and saw another line had been spun into a neat coil. She stooped to do the same. Gordon disappeared from the upper deck and Drake returned and knelt beside her. His aura of confidence radiated through her with a quiver of excitement when he got close.

  Keeping her gaze on her work, she said, “I didn’t know your dad knew how to handle a boat.”

  Drake’s hand came to rest on hers. She sat back on her haunches while he finished coiling the rope. “Before he worked in construction, he had a job with the Manhattan Harbour Master as a deckhand.”

  “Drake, baby.” Heather appeared like a beauty queen in casual white pants and a striped yellow and white shirt. She’d changed her shoes to something more reasonable and flung herself around Drake. “Why don’t we let your dad take her out, and you and I can have a little private time in the stateroom.”

  Drake broke her grip from around his neck. “Why don’t you get a drink? I’ll be top side.”

  Heather didn’t move, but her gaze fell on Twila. “I’m going to have a little nap then.”

  “Thought you wanted to talk with Mom?” he queried.

  “Later,” she said, “It’s been a long day. Bring my drink to my and Drake’s
room, Twila.”

  Drake stiffened.

  “Sure, Heather. No problem,” she said, wanting to make a quick escape.

  “No,” Drake said roughly. “Heather get your own drink. Twila is a guest not the hired help.”

  “Guest?” Heather drawled. “Yours or your mother’s?”

  “Mine,” he said with a warning tone.

  “Really,” she said, her angry gaze snapping to Twila. “Obviously your listening skills aren’t that good.”

  “If you’re not happy, I can bring this ship around and drop you off on the dock, Heather.” His expression turned to stone and his jaw ground to a sharp edge.

  “Drake?” Heather’s forehead crinkled, and her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you acting like this? How could you embarrass me like this in front of her?”

  “Because you’re being rude, and her name is Twila.”

  Heather sucked in an over-dramatized gasp and ran inside. Frozen to the spot, Twila didn’t know what she should do. He’d stuck up for her, and boldly. Being trapped on a vessel with a pissed off girlfriend couldn’t be a good thing. “Drake, I think you should drop me back on the dock. I don’t want to upset Heather. I can cab it back to the park.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” he said, sitting on the ledge, his long legs strung out in front of him. “She wasn’t invited. It was my mistake for mentioning it.” He closed his eyes as if tired and fed up. “I wanted us to have a relaxing cruise and some time together. I don’t get enough chances to do that with my family.”

  She took a deep swallow. “But, I’m—”

  “Before you say you’re not family, I can tell you, you are. My mom and dad love you like a daughter.” His voice dropped to a low timbre. “And if I’m going to be honest, I wanted you to come too. You’ve been there for them, and I’m grateful.”

  “You’ve shown your gratitude by buying me the bike. I really like your parents, and your mom and I are friends, but I’m causing trouble just by being here.”

  Above their heads, two seagulls swooped and screeched at one another. The smell of the ocean mixed with Drake’s aftershave, invaded her senses, including her good sense.

  “You’re my friend’s son, which makes me your friend, not family. I don’t belong here.” She meandered to the stern and appreciated the wrap around bench covered with comfortable cushions and elegant teak furniture. When she turned, she offered him a friendly smile. “Tell your dad to turn around.”

  “If I did, it would be Heather I’d leave there.” Drake pinned his gaze on the water. “My parents are grass-roots people. They kept my brother and I fed and showed us by example how to be honest, hardworking men.”

  “I was raised the same way. My brother and I both went to college, working summer jobs to pay for tuition. When I look back on it now, it was fun.”

  “My parents aren’t hurting, but they did without a lot in the beginning. Dad was a contractor, mostly commercial buildings. He wore a hardhat, not a business suit. My education gave me the ability to build this vessel and with the help of some Marine buddies who are part of my shipbuilding team, I made a dream come true, but it wasn’t easy.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t.”

  “Heather doesn’t comprehend that. She grew up privileged.”

  Twila sat down in one of the deck chairs and pinned her hands between her knees. Drake needed a sounding board and that she could offer. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You and Heather make a great looking couple, and although you put a lot of hard work into your business, it’s Heather’s crowd you’re selling to. You have to live in both worlds.”

  A small smile streaked across his expression, and then he gazed squarely in her eyes when he said, “I see why Mom likes talking to you, Twila.” He bent to one knee in front of her. “But I think you need a sounding board too. You work too hard. You never stop. That says a lot about who you are.”

  He reached for her hand and ran his thumb across her fingernails. She tried to curl them up, but he gently brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She froze. Her breathing suspended with the kind gesture.

  “Your nails aren’t long, painted and perfect. You wear sensible shoes, instead of four inch heels. The hem of your dress comes to just above your knee. You don’t need to prove you’re a sensual woman by showing everyone what should be saved for intimate moments.” His gaze softened. “I like that. I—I mean from an older adopted brother perspective.”

  Twila’s heart drummed wildly. Drake’s features and physique turned heads, and she could easily fall into his fan club. “I don’t have the money to get a weekly manicure. I might if I could. I don’t want to look like a used dishrag, but it’s not something I think about running around all day at the park.”

  “No,” he whispered. “You’re far from a dish rag.”

  Drake’s gaze dropped to her lips, and the uneven beats in her heart turned into a raging chaotic drum. “I better give your mom a hand.”

  He nodded and gently pulled her up. “I’d planned to leave tomorrow, but I’m staying.”

  When she thought it was safe to speak without stuttering, she said, “You have a business to run, don’t you?”

  “I trust my team, and it’s been months since I took time off.”

  Twila’s heart ticked with excitement. “Your parents would love you to hang around a little more.”

  He nodded. “They would, but that’s not why I’m staying. Course mom will probably put you in the will because of it.” He chuckled and tilted his head.

  A small groan crawled up her throat. Drake had a mystifying ability to make her swoon. Being a handsome man, she didn’t know if she’d ever feel hard ground beneath her feet in his presence.

  “Dad’s got the helm, how about a tour?”

  “I don’t want to leave all the work to your mom. Maybe later.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “What did Heather mean by you obviously weren’t listening?”

  Oh dear. Where was the Kraken when you needed it? She shook her head.

  He lowered his chin and gave her a hard look. “Did she threaten you?”

  When Drake’s gaze took on a don’t lie to me glare it was easy to see the shrewd businessman or maybe it was the Marine. She wasn’t sure. “Uh, well, we had a little conversation in the kitchen during the party.”

  Drake’s demeanour altered. His expression tilting toward pissed off. “As in what?” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Seriously, I want to know what she said to you.”

  Acting like a protective older brother filled her with a giddy rush. “I forget.”

  He brushed a curl away from her cheek. “No, you don’t. That’s why you’ve been hiding out, isn’t it? Mom says you normally see each other every day, but you haven’t come around and it’s because of me.”

  “Heather just misunderstood and wanted to be sure I knew you were committed to each other. Not a big deal.” She swallowed and made an audible sound with the saliva getting stuck in her dry throat. Kill me now.

  Drake accepted her answer, but with a residual glance that said he didn’t believe her. They watched as the dock fell into the distance. She stepped to the edge and Drake joined her. The swell of the sea rolled off the side of the Rebecca as she picked up speed. Her skin rippled with anxious energy. Not because she was in a realm she no longer could control, but because he didn’t remove his hand from her shoulder. Worse yet, it slid across her back, and he gently pressed her closer.

  The smile she remembered from his picture sprung onto his expression and her legs weakened a little. The image had always affected her but the real thing…she swallowed deeply. Being at sea made him happy.

  “I promise the Rebecca is seaworthy,” translating her expression incorrectly.

  She nodded and desperately wanted to look away before he thought she might be a little crazy. Standing so close, she could see the afternoon stubble gracing his strong jaw. His firm lips like the ones attached to guys on billboards. She squeezed her ha
nds to stop them from reaching up and touching him. Goosebumps suddenly covered her arms.

  “Are you cold?” His warm hand swept down her arm and made them worse.

  She swallowed. “No, you just look so happy to be out here.”

  He gazed at her as if deep in thought. “I am,” he said, his voice lowering. He cleared his throat and then gently pulled on her hand. “Follow me.”

  The main deck had a large living room and covered dining area. Near the bow, which she learned was the front of the ship, had a fully equipped kitchen to make a gourmet meal. The luxurious space boasted teak cabinets, silver accents and a large island. Not what she would expect on a ship.

  “My Darlings,” Becka gave them a glowing smile. “Take your time showing Twila the vessel. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.” She panned a look around. “Where’s the spoiled brat?”

  “Lying down, I think,” Drake answered.

  “Why would you bring her, Drake? I thought this was just a family outing.”

  Twila didn’t try to point out—again—that she wasn’t family.

  “I didn’t invite her. I mentioned I was taking the family out on the boat.”

  “And she assumed that meant her?” Becka made a pffting sound of disgust. “We’ll be courteous, but I think you know how I feel about that woman, son.” Becka stepped forward and hugged her, then cocked her head. “The family is still together, and if the pampered puss doesn’t want to behave, we’ll dump her overboard.”

  Drake gave her a wink. “I’m going to finish showing Twila the vessel.”

  “Take your time.”

  They climbed a set of stairs and emerged on the bridge instead of using the ladder for quick exterior access to the command bridge from outside. Drake explained some of the equipment, and told her he could operate the vessel from either bridge.

  “Come over here,” he said, urging her with a tip of his head.

  When she joined him, he grasped her around the waist and lifted her onto the captain’s chair. She laughed. “I’m the last person who should sit here.”

  He gripped both of the arm rests, virtually trapping her. “I don’t know about that. Let’s go over some terminology.”