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She did not want this—but she hungered for it…
Jeb’s mouth was on hers, delicious as salted caramel. Haley knew that this was an experience she would never forget: the sound of the billowy sails flapping in the Atlantic breeze; the July sun beaming down bright and hot, shining a million tiny fractured lanterns over the choppy caps of blue water; the smell of briny ocean spray; this handsome man, hard with muscles and a gorgeous smile, kissing a practical woman who’d forgotten what it was like to have fun.
She should break off the kiss. She knew it. Do something! Anything! Just stop kissing him!
But she did none of those things.
Instead, she twined her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.
Haley couldn’t think straight. Acting like this was so unlike her. She felt as if she were channeling some spritely mermaid turning the tables on a handsome fisherman by catching him in her net. Oddly thrilling, that image.
You are in such trouble, whispered her brain…
Dear Reader,
One of the fun things about being a writer is the research. On the surface, research might sound boring. Dry and dusty. Hours spent poring over books. Except, that’s not the kind of research I’m talking about. For Smooth Sailing, my research entailed going to a marina and asking to be taken out on a sailboat. It meant taking a class in sailing and spending hours talking to avid sailors. Now that’s just downright fun.
I learned boating safety, the difference between the sails, the names of all the ropes, the way to properly launch a sailboat, how to trim the sail, how to throw a line, tie up the boat, how to recover from a capsize and how not to panic if you fall overboard. What I took away from this experience is that sailing is really complicated and I have a whole new respect for the sport and the people who sail.
What I hope is that my dedication to research paid off and you’ll be able to experience sailing right along with the hero and heroine of Smooth Sailing, Jeb Whitcomb and Haley French, who fall in love on the high seas. It’s a grand adventure and I thank you for taking the ride with me.
Smooth Sailing is the second book in the STOP THE WEDDING! series. I hope you’ll be on the lookout for the final installment in the trilogy, Crash Landing. Until next time…
Happy reading,
Lori Wilde
About the Author
LORI WILDE is a New York Times bestselling author and has written more than forty books. She’s been nominated for a RITA® Award and four RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards. Her books have been excerpted in Cosmopolitan, Redbook and Quick & Simple. Lori teaches writing online through Ed2go. She’s also an RN trained in forensics and she volunteers at a women’s shelter. Visit her website at www.loriwilde.com.
Smooth Sailing
Lori Wilde
To my students, past, present and future.
Helping you has made me a better writer.
Thank you.
1
Forward— Toward the bow
A PEACOCK COULDN’T have strutted more gloriously than Jeb Whitcomb taking the outdoor makeshift stage. A self-satisfied grin graced his tanned handsome face, his blue eyes crinkled seductively at the corners as he joined the governor at the podium. The sleeves of his white work shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing powerful forearms dotted with hair a shade darker than the milk-chocolate locks swept rakishly off his forehead.
“In appreciation of your hard work, dedication and monetary contribution to rebuilding the island of St. Michael’s, we are bestowing you with the first Jeb Whitcomb humanitarian award,” Governor Freemont announced and passed the gilded trophy to Whitcomb.
From the audience, Haley French, R.N., rolled her eyes. Whitcomb might have everyone else on the island snowed, but Haley saw through the charming smile and sexy swagger. He hadn’t really come here to help the residents of St. Michael’s; his visit had all been about plumping up his ego. Whenever there was a camera about, Whitcomb was in front of it.
Cameras flashed. Reporters tossed questions. The crowd applauded.
Haley’s best friend, Ahmaya Reddy, poked her in the ribs with her elbow. “Don’t be rude. Clap.”
Halfheartedly, Haley joined in the applause, but she frowned. “He’s grandstanding.”
Whitcomb launched into what was clearly an off-the-cuff speech.
“He’s a bona fide hero,” Ahmaya argued. “St. Michael’s couldn’t have recovered as quickly without him.”
“He’s self-centered.”
“Oh, yes, self-centered people give up a year of their life to rebuild islands they have no connection to.”
“That’s precisely my point. He has no connection to St. Michael’s. Who anointed him our savior? I question his motives. Ever notice how he always has hangers-on following him?”
Ahmaya shrugged. “He’s handsome, rich and fun to be around. Who wouldn’t want to hang on?”
“Rebuilding an entire island wiped out by a hurricane shouldn’t be fun.”
“You’d think not, but somehow he managed to get everyone to pull together. That’s why he’s getting the attention, not to mention the award. His ability to get people to work in harmony.”
“He’s just doing it for the attention. It strokes his ego.”
“So what if he is?” Ahmaya asked. Okay, Haley was being a bit harsh, which was not like her, but Whitcomb seemed to bring out the worst in her. “The results are the same. People have homes again and essential services have been restored because of Jeb’s generosity.”
“He’s impulsive.”
“Oh.” A sly smile crossed Ahmaya’s face. “I get it.”
“Get what?”
“The reason why he rubs you the wrong way.”
Haley crossed her arms over her chest, canted her head. “Care to enlighten me?”
“He doesn’t live up to your expectations.”
“I have no expectations of him.”
“No?”
“He’s nothing to me.”
“I thought you two—”
“We certainly did not.” Haley bristled.
“But almost.”
Haley’s cheeks heated. Yes, she’d almost had sex with Jeb Whitcomb several months back when they’d both served on the hospital rebuilding committee. Thankfully, she had not gone through with it.
“Wait a minute.” Ahmaya snapped her fingers. “It’s not Jeb who didn’t live up to your expectations. It was you. You’re mad at him because you violated your own code of ethics when you—”
“Let’s stop talking about him, okay?” To get Ahmaya to shut up, she purposefully fixed her attention on the stage.
Jeb had a microphone in his hand. He paced the length of the stage, whipping up the audience with his passionate vision of what St. Michael’s could become. Haley knew how dangerous his passion was. He’d had her under his spell, however briefly. He paused in midstride,