Ten
Chapter One
Natalie Winford knew she had just made the biggest mistake of her life. She didn’t regret a minute of it.
Rum punch, she thought. They could both blame it on the rum punch, if they had to blame it on anything.
Outside, she heard the harbor water slap lightly at the yacht. Here in the master cabin, a stray sunbeam through the porthole burnished Patrick Barr’s tanned skin to molten gold as he lay amid the tangled sheets.
Natalie never wanted to move again. She yearned to lie forever in Patrick’s arms, suspended in this magic interval after making love.
“Nat?” he murmured.
“Right here.” At such close range, she was acutely aware of the man’s lime-scented cologne and the well-proportioned build that testified to his high-school and college days as a competitive diver. Playfully she ran her hand across the muscles of his shoulders and back, relishing their sculpted power.
Until now, she’d only been able to dream about touching him. For five years, she’d answered his phone calls, sorted his mail, scheduled his appointments and fantasized about him from a distance. Until today.
When Patrick first took over as administrator of the Doctors Circle Clinic and Birthing Center from his disorganized predecessor, Natalie had been relieved to work for a man she respected. Over the years, her feelings had developed into intense admiration.
Now she drank in every detail of the man in bed beside her. She treasured his strong, sensitive nose and the two pucker lines between his intelligent brown eyes. She cherished his thick brown hair, although it was a little too long because, as usual, he’d been too busy to stop by a barbershop.
Patrick seemed to be making his own assessment of Natalie, she noticed as his gaze trailed from her breasts up to her soft lips. “You always look terrific, but the view is even better without clothes,” he said. After a moment’s reflection, he added ruefully, “On the other hand, I’m afraid we jumped into this situation without thinking.”
“If you’re about to say you wish we hadn’t done this, I’ll kick you out of bed,” Natalie said.
He flashed a warm, masculine smile. “I couldn’t possibly regret it. But…”
“I know.” She sighed. “My behavior hardly meets your high standards.”
Patrick ran his hand through his already rumpled hair. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m the one who needs to set a good example for the community.”
Until she met her boss, Natalie hadn’t known anyone could be so hard on himself or so exacting with his staff. She wished she’d been raised with the same insistence on honesty and integrity, but not everyone had the advantage of two stable parents with high ideals.
In any case, making love with Patrick didn’t break the rules as far as Natalie was concerned. A twenty-nine-year-old woman had a right to find happiness with a single man, even if they were boss and secretary. And even if it might only last one afternoon.
“You did set a good example today, during the cruise,” she said. “The community loved what you said about Doctors Circle’s future plans. That’s why the pledges came rolling in.”
The luncheon outing aboard Patrick’s yacht had launched a nine-month-long Endowment Fund drive aimed at raising thirty million dollars, enough to put Doctors Circle on firm financial footing for years to come. The movers and shakers of Serene Beach, California, had responded by opening their checkbooks.
Most of them were aware that the yacht, Melissa, was named after the infant sister Patrick never knew. It was her loss from lung problems and prematurity that had inspired his parents, once they overcame poverty and rose to prominence in the business community, to establish a center to save other babies.
After the guests and crew left, Natalie and Patrick had sat on deck toasting their success with rum punch. They’d been exhilarated, energized and intensely attuned to each other after weeks of working twelve-hour days together.
She didn’t know what had finally overcome their inhibitions, and she didn’t care. She just wanted to stay here in his cabin forever and forget that the rest of the world existed.
“It was a great kickoff, thanks in large part to you.” Patrick stretched lazily. Although the August sun lingered outside, it was past seven o’clock.
“If only they could see you now.” Teasingly, Natalie traced a finger down the center of his chest. “On second thought, I’d rather keep you to myself.”
“You’re in a wonderful mood,” he said.
“You ought to be, too.”
“I am.” He pulled her tighter against him. “You know, I just got a terrific idea.”
“For the next fund-raiser?” Natalie asked.
“Something a little more personal.” Angling toward her, Patrick cupped the back of her head with his hand. He scanned her face as if trying to memorize every detail, and then his mouth claimed hers.
His kiss exploded with yearning. Natalie melted against him, yielding to his tongue’s demands and savoring the sensation of being held close.
When Patrick lifted his head, she kissed the V of his collarbone. “I think I figured out your idea.”
“Do you approve?”
“Utterly,” she said.
He reached into a drawer for more protection, and then he pushed her gently down against the sheet.
NATALIE AWOKE in darkness, filled with dismay. Her subconscious mind had finally registered what they’d done, and the likelihood that it would lead to disaster.
Patrick slept on his back, with one hand resting on her shoulder. Natalie brushed her cheek against it.
She knew his hands well. They were large hands, capable of carving the air in an expansive gesture or dashing his name across a document that granted medical services to a poor woman.
And her hands? They’d served plenty of hamburgers while she made her way through high school. They’d also signed a marriage license with a man who turned out to be an alcoholic, and a few years later they’d signed the divorce papers.
Her hands had written something else, too, an entry on her job application that hadn’t been completely honest. Natalie shuddered to think that Patrick might someday find out.
Well, he wasn’t going to. She’d let matters go way too far tonight, but there was still time to run damage control.
Quietly, she rose and dressed in her tailored slacks and sailor-style blouse. With the brush from her purse, she tucked her blond hair into its accustomed bun.
It