Sam proved his point by touching his lips to hers in yet another kiss, one that made her whole body tingle. When they parted, Libby glanced toward the mirror-smooth lake, now sprinkled with stars. In the distance, Polaris shone brightly, flanked by Hercules, Cepheus the King, and Aries the Ram—familiar constellations that she'd gazed on for years. But somehow they looked different tonight, twinkling brighter than she'd ever seen them.
Are they in my eyes?
"It's getting late." Sam's words broke into her trance.
She nodded, but didn't move off his lap. One eyebrow arched in silent questioning, Sam met her gaze and then groaned when he saw the look on her face. In one smooth motion, he drew her close again, kissing her with savage intensity and sliding a hand under her tank top. She shuddered when his fingers cupped her breast. His ragged breaths told her victory might not be so impossible in spite of what he said. That maybe, just maybe, romance had finally touched him.
But was it really romance that made her want to get naked with him? Or was it simply mutual need? Whichever, a good twenty minutes of kissing and touching passed before she eased off his lap and tugged at her shirts. "We should go."
"Yeah." Sam did a little straightening of his own.
Without speaking, they got into the paddle boat and splashed their way back to the dock. Libby climbed out of the bobbing craft first.
"Wait a second," Sam said. "I need to talk to you."
"All right." She reached for the tie-up rope and wrapped it around one of the wooden dock supports. After greeting Fetch, she said, "I'm listening."
Sam hesitated, hating what he had to say. His impulsive plan to turn the tables on Libby, to prove how perilous a place like Wildwood could be, had backfired terribly. He now regretted his stupid idea and that lethal kiss in the gazebo, a kiss intended to be nothing more than a quick lesson on the pitfalls of romance. Somehow it had turned into more than a harmless make-out session. And only a cold shower would relieve his sexual frustration now. "There's something I have to know first."
"What's that?" She frowned, clearly curious.
"Have you decided to fill in for Patti tonight? Was all that—" He pointed to the gazebo. "—to prove to me how wonderful romance can be?"
"No. Have you forgotten what I said this afternoon? I'd never play Patti, even to save Wildwood, and that—" She pointed toward the gazebo. "—was definitely not planned."
"I thought as much." Sam ground to dust a clump of dirt under his foot. "I'm afraid I have a confession to make."
"What are you talking about?"
"You might not have planned that, but I did."
Libby recoiled slightly. "I don't understand."
And no wonder, Sam thought. So far he'd made a major mess of things. But how was he supposed to know she'd cooperate so fully? "Remember what I said this afternoon about Wildwood being dangerous?"
"Because it distorts reality?"
"Exactly."
"I remember. And I still think you're wrong."
"Do you?" Sam drew in a deep breath and forged ahead. "What happened out on the lake was no accident, Libby. It was a calculated attempt on my part to demonstrate how romantic surroundings can play havoc with level heads. You'd already told me that you never waste time on men you wouldn't marry. I figured if I could make you forget that I'm one of those men, you'd see just how hazardous a place like this can be."
Libby's heart sank. So much for Sam's being touched by the magic of romance. He was still the same old divorce attorney, cynical, hard, and hell-bent on selling Wildwood. He'd never change, and in trying to make him, she had foolishly succumbed to the magic herself.
"Don't you think you got a little carried away?" She nailed him to the dock with her stare. "I mean, wouldn't one kiss have been sufficient to prove your point? As for those roving hands of yours..."
"I believe yours went a few places they shouldn't have, too." Though he snapped the words, he wouldn't look her in the eye.
"Well, congratulations on a job well done, Mr. Knight. I get your point." At that, she left him, first jogging and then running all the way to the sanctuary of her cabin, with her trusty pet loping along behind.
* * * *
"How humiliating." Libby said to Fetch not ten minutes later. He perked up his ears but never budged from where he lay on the bed, watching her. "Do you realize that I came this close—" She held up a thumb and forefinger, almost touching. "—to inviting that man into my bed? Oh my God! What was I thinking?"
She stepped out of her jeans and tossed them in the general direction of the woven hamper. Tugging off both tops, she sent them flying, too. Next she vented her frustration by brushing her hair until it crackled with static electricity.
"I should've known he was up to something. Why else would a man like him show interest in a woman like me? Why, we're as different as daylight and dark. To think I stood out there, kissing him as if he might be the knight I've waited for."
She plopped down on the bed. "Not that he's not knight material, you understand. Deep down inside, he is, and I suspect that's what attracts me. Unfortunately, I'm waiting for Lancelot or Galahad. He's definitely an Arthur—too work oriented, too level-headed, too grim. He's also too damn sneaky." She sighed. "But man oh man, has he got the touch."
Fetch's accusing brown stare never wavered.
"Okay. okay, I admit it," she said, somewhat defensively. "I probably deserve what he almost did to me. I wanted to turn him over to Patti for the same treatment, after all. And, just between you and me, he's right about the effect romantic surroundings can have on a couple or—" She winced. "—a fanciful female like me. What he doesn't seem to understand is that the men and women who come here are already committed when they arrive. They need the romance to reinforce the relationship."
Absently she petted her dog. "I guess it's all over, sport. Sam's going to sell Wildwood. Nine people will hit the unemployment lines, and all my dreams to manage a resort like this, all my hard work, will go up in smoke."
Fetch licked her hand and whined softly, a sound lost when her cell phone began to dance across the night stand. She reached for it. "Hello." She lay back to prop her head on her dog's back and her feet on the brass headboard.
Ramona's bubbly voice came over the line. "Hi, there! How's it going?"
"Fine." Libby had no problem lying.
"Ever come up with a Plan C?"
"As a matter fact, yes. I confronted Sam straight out about selling Wildwood, and he agreed to give me the rest of the weekend to convince him not to."
"You're kidding!"
"No, I'm not. So far we've toured the pool, the sauna, one of the cabins—"
"Was he properly impressed?"
"Of course." Libby figured that "very nice" could possibly translate into "properly impressed."
"Sounds like you've got everything under control. I knew you had it in you!"
"Yeah, well..."
"What's up next? Dinner?"
"Actually we—"
"Great! Have your mother make him some of that marvelous shrimp gumbo of hers. He'll love it."
"Mona, I—"
"And why don't you take him for a moonlight stroll by the lake after that? There's not a soul alive who's immune to one of those."
Libby abandoned further attempts to come clean. "I'll think about it."
"Wear that sparkly little number I gave you last Christmas, and keep me posted, okay?"
"Okay." After ending the call, she covered her eyes with her hands and groaned loudly. "Elizabeth Ann Turner, you are gutless!"
Why hadn't she just told Ramona the truth? Admitted that she was no match for the likes of Sam Knight? That more than the fate of Wildwood was now at stake? But no. If she revealed the chaotic state of her heart—not to mention her body—Sam's nosy sister would be at Wildwood before morning to check things out. Of those two evils, a weekend with Sam was definitely the lesser.
Wasn't it?
Libby shook her head in wonder. How had she ever gotten into such a fix? More importantly how was she going to get out of it? If she pretended that nothing had ever happened—that they hadn't kissed and touched like lovers in the gazebo—would their relationship be strictly business again? Probably, she told herself. Sam had made perfectly clear his motives. He should be more than willing to do his part.
But what about me?
Sam had touched her and she'd responded, a natural reaction to his carefully planned seduction. Encouraged by that thought, she decided to give changing Sam's mind just one more try.
Remembering what Ramona had suggested, Libby went to the closet and took out a sparkly dress so versatile it could be worn in several ways. She laid it on the bed and added a strapless black bra and matching thong, before heading to the bathroom and the hot tub she hoped would restore her body and spirit.
Nearly an hour later, she walked out onto the porch, fully dressed and definitely renewed—in body, at least. The skirt of her slinky black dress swirled around her legs with every step. Undecided on exactly how to wear the sparkly bodice, she tugged the fabric off her shoulders, only to feel silly and pull it right back up again.
With new determination, she stepped onto Sam's porch a few minutes later and knocked firmly on the door. Almost instantly, bright light flooded the porch. Keep your cool, she reminded herself just as the door flew open and she found her eyes level with a broad bare chest.
Her cool self-destructed.
"I... Um... Hi, there." She dragged her gaze to Sam's face. "Ready?"
"For what?" He didn't miss one detail of Libby's hair, loose and touchable for a change, or her dress, perfectly elegant. His recent resolution to avoid her the rest of the weekend, a result of over an hour's worth of soul-searching and goal reaffirmation, sailed right up the chimney.
"Dinner in an hour."
"We're still on?" He wondered if his worst fears were now truth. Was Libby onto him? Did she know how close he'd come to surrender in the gazebo? Was this dinner an attempt to finish him off for good?
"Of course." She flashed a dazzling smile. "If you still want to, that is."
"That depends on whether or not you've found your temper." Sam hoped she might reveal the reason for this disconcerting about-face.
"It's found, all right. And under lock and key. I'm sorry I ever lost in the first place. I had no right. I wasn't above deception myself, to prove a point."
"In that case, I'd love to have dinner with you."