Three Weeks Last Spring Read online

  As she lay in bed, she took stock. Her life was a mess. Apart from the endless round of work and sleep she had little else to comfort or interest her, not even a cat to welcome her home after a busy day at the office. What little spare time she had was either spent in the garden, reading or listening to music. And other than John dragging her out for the odd drink after work or entertaining clients, she hardly went anywhere other than the supermarket.

  It wasn't that she didn't want male company, she did. And it wasn't as if she didn't meet men either, although admittedly they were usually clients. Over the past year, she recalled miserably, she had turned down every date she'd been offered, all in fear of being hurt again. She knew she couldn't go on like this. She was tired of feeling lonely and confused. It was one of the reasons she had decided to make this trip, a chance to get her life in order and make a new start. Torn by conflicting emotions, she tossed yet again, desperately wanting to open her heart and be loved. But to do so would mean learning to trust again. And she wasn't sure that possible.

  Michael had taught her that love brought pain and betrayal. She had no desire to experience those emotions again. Her logical mind argued that an affair, and especially one with an American, wasn't the ideal solution. Why couldn't she be like other women, have fun, and walk away at the end of the affair, with her head held high, no regrets and without so much as a backward glance? She turned on her side and thumped the pillow in frustration. She couldn't answer that question. When she and Walker weren't arguing, she was acutely conscious of the undercurrents of desire that passed between them. What would happen, she wondered, if they stopped arguing long enough to find out where it would take them?

  Chapter Eight

  Early the next morning, even though Skye had slept little, she accompanied Debbie into Friday Harbor in time to catch the ferry. Their relationship remained strained from the previous evening, and as a consequence, they had little to say to each other. By unspoken agreement, neither Walker nor his invitation was mentioned until Debbie boarded the ferry, when her parting words to her friend were to enjoy her afternoon with the most handsome man on the island. Despite her irritation, Skye couldn't help but laugh. Debbie always managed to have the last word.

  Reluctant to return to the cabin for fear of finding Walker on her doorstep, Skye dallied in town for as long as she could, but there was only so much time she could spend window-shopping and so many cups of coffee her body could absorb. She took her time driving back to the cabin, fervently hoping as every mile passed that Walker would have forgotten about his invitation.

  She brought the car to a halt in front of the garage. She let out a sigh of relief—of Walker there was no sign. It was only when she strolled round the deck to where the cabin overlooked the small cove that she saw him gently rocking back and forth in one of the wicker chairs, looking completely at home. His hands were behind his head and his face was turned skywards as he soaked up the late morning sun. Skye leaned against the wall, crestfallen. She should have known she wasn't going to be let off the hook that easily. She took a deep breath, forced what she hoped was an enthusiastic smile onto her face, and turned to face her adversary.

  Walker stood in one smooth movement, reached out and caught Skye's hand before she realized what he intended.

  "Hi, there, I thought you'd forgotten our arrangement." He grinned mischievously, as if reading her thoughts.

  The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through her body. Her brittle smile softened slightly as she lowered her gaze. Skye took a deep breath then raised her eyes to his.

  "I hadn't forgotten. I just wasn't sure if you really meant it. After all, Debbie rather pushed us into this, didn't she?"

  "Whether she did or she didn't isn't the issue. I volunteered, and I always mean what I say," Walker said. There was warmth in his voice as he continued. "I thought we might take the boat over to Lopez Island and wander around the village. You haven't been there, have you?"

  Gently Skye eased her hand out of his firm grasp. Her voice was unsteady when she spoke. "No, I haven't, but surely we're too late for the ferry? Perhaps another time?"

  Walker nodded towards the dock, his eyes like summer lightning. "No need for the ferry, I brought the boat around."

  Skye turned, sure enough, moored at the end of the dock, and bobbing up and down with the swell, was a sleek, powerful and expensive cruiser.

  "Unless there's anything you need from inside,” Walker indicated the cabin with a jerk of his head, "we should set off."

  Skye could think of a million reasons why she shouldn't accompany him. But short of committing an act of violence on his person, she didn't think Walker would accept any of them. He took her small hand in his large one once more, and led her down the path towards his boat. All she could do was to follow along. He effortlessly jumped aboard then turned to help her, taking both her hands in his.

  Skye watched the boat rising and falling on its mooring and tried to time her jump as Walker had done. Confident that she'd judged the boat's rhythm, she stepped off the dock, but was caught off guard when the cruiser drifted away from its mooring. She would have fallen if Walker hadn’t stepped forward and caught her in safely his arms, clasping her body tightly to his. Instinctively, Skye's arms wound round his waist, her head fitting snugly in the hollow between his shoulder and neck.

  Walker inhaled deeply. Just as he had imagined, her soft curves fitted his lean physique perfectly. His body responded before his brain could kick in. It would be so easy to take advantage of the moment, but that wasn't his style. Struggling for control, he gently pushed Skye away, steadying her as he did so, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

  "Are you all right?"

  Filled with a strange inner excitement, Skye coloured fiercely, her pulses racing. Walker's arms around her felt good, almost too good. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to hold her. His breath was warm and moist against her cheek and felt just like a lover's caress.

  "I think so. I'm just not used to boats." She felt slightly bereft as Walker set her loose.

  "I'll try and remember that. The water's cold at this time of year. Perhaps I should give you a life vest in case you take a tumble overboard."

  Skye laughed as she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes. "I haven't forgotten your earlier warning. I'll watch out for the deck cleats."

  She sat down next to the helm, and studied Walker's profile as he cast off and steered the boat away from the dock. Caught up entirely in her own thoughts and emotions, she had to admit that he wasn't quite as intimidating as she had first thought. In fact, if she allowed her body to rule her mind, then she had to acknowledge she had an overwhelming desire to be kissed by him. Unbidden, her mind jumped in with a second intriguing thought—what would those kisses be like? Would they be feather light and teasing or hot and demanding?

  Shaking her head at the direction her thoughts were taking, Skye contented herself with admiring the scenery, and looking for signs of the Orcas. When she thought Walker wasn't looking, she made a quick appraisal of his features and felt her pulse quicken. His face was strong, and there were laughter lines around his eyes and mouth, hinting at a softer side to his character. His body was lean, and yet she could see the outline of his muscles under the thick sweater he wore, suggesting that he spent a great deal of time outdoors or working out in the gym. The warmth of his body had been intoxicating, and the degree to which she had responded, completely unexpected. She tried to rationalize her feelings by putting them down to the shock of her fall, but failed. There was no doubt that what she felt was the flush of sexual desire.

  The water in the channel was choppy, but it was nothing Walker or the boat couldn't handle. As he steered the boat into the San Juan Channel, the wind lifted Skye's hair. Without thinking he reached out and lightly fingered a stray tendril, tucking it behind her ear. As his fingers brushed her cheek, a shiver of wanting shot through him. Good move, Walker, he silently chided himself, as his body stirred
with need. He wanted her, pure and simple, and if she kept on looking at him with eyes full of unfulfilled passion, then he'd throw his rulebook overboard and start kissing her until she begged him to stop.

  He brushed a hand through his hair, and attempted to play the part of the tour guide in an effort to get his mind off his crotch, but failed miserably. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until neither had the breath to talk.

  Dragging his mind back to his geography lesson, he explained that depending on the tides, the islands could number anywhere from just over four hundred to over seven hundred, but only four were actually named. When his mind started to wander again, he clamped his mouth shut and put all his concentration into keeping the boat on a steady course.

  When Skye subconsciously moistened her lips, tasting salt carried in the wind, Walker held his breath as her tongue gently passed over her bottom lip. Although she was unaware, he had watched her earlier open appraisal of him and had seen the longing in her eyes. Hell, if she kept looking at him with those blue eyes and making those sexy gestures with the tip of her tongue, he’d have to start reciting the periodic table—backwards, anything to stop him from following through on his thoughts.

  Walker knew that the Coastguard cutter had completed its survey the previous day and was now returning to Seattle with the results. It would be another thirty-six hours before they were available and in the meantime he planned on pumping his tenant for all the information she was willing to give.

  "How long will it take us to get to Lopez Island?" Skye asked.

  "Not long. The channel is fairly narrow at this point. It depends on how many tankers or cargo vessels we have to dodge. Not feeling seasick, are you?"

  “Being on a boat doesn't usually bother me too much, unless it's heaving up and down and rocking from side to side, at the same time." She smiled and recounted her previous trip in a small boat. "Last year I took a trip to the Small Isles—off the West Coast of Scotland—on an old World War II launch." Skye's voice was rich with laughter as she continued. "By the time we reached halfway the wind had risen to Force five. That launch was being tossed in every direction. As the only female on board, I was determined not to let my gender down by being seasick. I resolutely kept my eyes fixed on the horizon. When someone started grilling bacon for breakfast, I turned a delicate shade of green, but I managed to hold on to my dignity. I was relieved to set foot on solid ground, I can tell you."

  Walker’s mouth quirked with humor, there was something warm and enchanting in hearing her laugh. As the wind kicked at her hair, blowing it every which way, she'd put her hand up to push it out of her face. She looked so alive, her cheeks were tinged with pink, her blue eyes sparkled and he could have sworn they had changed to a deeper hue.

  The pain and wariness that he'd previously noticed had vanished, leaving her looking relaxed, smiling and radiant, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Her features had softened now that her guard was down. Walker caught a spark of some indefinable emotion in her eyes. Her face was delicately carved, her mouth full and asking to be kissed. Something intense flared deep within him. Without knowing it, she had the ability to arouse him like no other woman ever had, and despite his determination not to become involved, his body had its own agenda.

  As the boat sped over a rough stretch of water, their eyes briefly locked and they shared a moment of intense physical awareness. The air between them crackled with excitement. Walker stood so close to Skye that he could feel the heat from her body. He closed his eyes, breaking contact. Clearing his throat, he pretended to be unaffected by what had passed between them.

  "The entrance to the Marina is just past the end of that breakwater." He took his hand off the helm, and pointed as he spoke. "The village is a short distance away. We can walk or can you ride a bicycle?"

  "Sure, it's like sex, isn't it? Once you've learnt how, you never forget." Skye blushed as the words tumbled from her mouth completely unbidden. Her lips trembled with a need to smile. Finally her sense of humour overtook her embarrassment at her unintentional word choice. She felt good, and despite her earlier misgivings, she was glad she came.

  Walker threw back his head and laughed heartily. He knew she had a quick mind, but he hadn't appreciated how good she was at thinking on her feet. The afternoon was turning out to be full of surprises. He quickly brought the boat alongside, and secured it to the quay. Together they followed the footpath towards the exit. When Walker sought it her hand, Skye gave it freely.

  They found the chandler's store and hired two ancient-looking bicycles. Satisfied that Skye could indeed ride a bike without falling off after five yards, Walker led the way to the village.

  "Hungry?" he asked after they had gone a little way.

  Now that she thought about it, Skye realized that her stomach was beginning to gnaw her backbone. She hadn't eaten since her scant breakfast with Debbie, many hours ago.

  "Mm, coffee and a sandwich would be good."

  "I think I can do better than that. How about a bowl of the best clam chowder in the Pacific Northwest?"

  "That good, huh?"

  "I'll stake my reputation on it."

  "And what if I disagree?" she asked, a hint of challenge in her voice.

  "Let's see…" Amusement flickered in Walker’s eyes as they met hers. "I get to take you to dinner in the most expensive restaurant in the San Juans."

  "And if you're right?"

  A mischievous smile tipped the corners of his mouth. "If I'm right, then you agree to spend a whole day with me."

  Skye considered her answer carefully. She ignored the voice inside her head that wondered why spending time with him had suddenly become very important.

  "Okay, you've got a deal."

  Half an hour later, Skye let out a long sigh. She mopped up the last of her clam chowder from the bowl with a piece of sourdough bread. She had to admit he was right. She had never tasted anything quite as delicious. And she had tasted clam chowder from San Francisco to Seattle and places in between, but nothing came close to being as good.

  Walker watched her obvious enjoyment of the simple meal. "Well, am I right?"

  Skye licked her lips. "Okay, you win. That was the best chowder I've eaten in a long time."

  "In that case you owe me a day of your time, to spend how I choose." He reached across the table, and brushed his finger against the side of her mouth in a gentle caress. "You missed a bit," he said huskily.

  Skye gasped in delight. Her flesh burned where he touched her. She watched riveted as he lifted his finger to his mouth and licked it clean. Nervously, she moistened her dry lips. There was a far deeper significance to his actions than she was ready to contemplate. An invisible thread seemed to draw her closer. If she didn't do something now to break it, she would be unable to stop herself from falling headlong into his arms.

  The sun was sinking fast, and only a small splash of orange remained on the horizon as they sailed back across the channel. Skye hadn't realized it was quite so late as she had enjoyed herself so much. High above in the darkening evening sky one or two stars were already appearing. It would be dark by the time they reached the cabin.

  Skye shivered in the late spring frost, and was glad of the slight shelter afforded by the boat’s windscreen and the warmth of the heavy sweater she wore. She wrapped her arms around her midriff, but still couldn't stop the odd shudder rippling through her body.

  Walker's deep husky voice broke through the ever-darkening sky.

  "If you're cold there's a jacket under the seat. It's probably way too big, but at least it will keep the chill out. Here, take the helm for a moment." He took Skye's hand and placed it on the wheel beneath his own. "Keep your eye on the compass and hold it steady on this heading." His warm, strong hand guided hers. He raised the seat on the port side; lifted out the old waterproof jacket he kept there, and draped it around Skye's shoulders.

  Suddenly, Skye found herself wrapped in Walker's arms. Unconsciously she settled back, enjo
ying the feel of his body against hers. Walker placed his right hand over hers where it rested on the helm. His left circled her waist, steadying her against the pitching of the boat. Skye shivered again, but this time, it wasn't from cold—but from sexual desire.

  Walker bent his head and rested his cheek against hers. "See that light over there? Keep heading toward it. Think of it as being like driving a car, the only difference is that the boat is slower to respond."

  Skye could scarcely breathe. The touch of his lips on her cheek was soft a caress as he spoke. Several seconds passed before she felt able to respond and then all she could do was nod her head.

  She stiffened slightly and drew in a ragged breath. "This is a real bad idea," she said nervously. "I always get confused between my right and left hand when people shout directions at me. Ask anyone who knows me. Debbie and I once set out to drive to Santa Cruz and ended up in Santa Rosa."