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Clayton knew what kids she was referring to: his nieces and nephews who called her Aunt Neda. “Are you enjoying yourself, Syneda?”
“Yes. I'm feeling more relaxed than I have in days,” she replied with a smile. “I want to thank you again for inviting me.”
“My pleasure.”
Syneda smiled. “When the waiter returns with our drinks I want to propose a toast.”
“To what?”
“Our friendship.”
Clayton swallowed hard. Friendship was the last thing on his mind and he felt guilty as sin. His mouth was watering over the sight of her, and she wanted to toast their friendship. And if her outfit wasn't bad enough, the perfume she had on was drifting around and through him. If only she knew how enticing the fragrance was. Her light makeup was immaculate and her hair appeared soft to the touch. He had taken this trip to clear his mind, but being around Syneda was beginning to turn his brains to mush.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked abruptly.
“The waiter hasn't returned with our drinks yet.”
“He'll hold them,” Clayton answered tersely, reaching across the small table and taking her hand. A slow-moving song was playing as he led her to the dance floor, which was crowded with other couples.
He knew it had been a mistake to ask her to dance the minute he took her into his arms and pulled her close. Her hands automatically folded loosely behind his neck, which caused her breasts to press against his chest.
Syneda tilted her head back and looked up at him. “What about you, Clayton? Are you enjoying yourself?”
Clayton looked down at her. She looked absolutely stunning. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm positive,” he replied, pulling her closer.
They continued the dance in silence. He was so engrossed in the feel of having her in his arms that at first he didn't notice the tap on his shoulder. When he did, he turned and looked into the face of a man he'd noticed eyeing Syneda when they had first entered the lounge.
“May I cut in?” the man asked with a deep southern accent.
“No, you can't.”
“Why not?” the man asked gruffly, obviously put off by Clayton's rudeness.
Clayton faced the man squarely. “Because I said so, that's why. Now back off.”
“Clayton!”
“Excuse us,” Clayton said to the man he'd been tempted to bring down a notch moments earlier. Taking Syneda's hand he led her back to their table.
“Clayton, what in the world is wrong with you? That was downright rude.”
“I was protecting your sweet behind since you don't seem to notice it needs protecting. That guy's been drooling over you ever since we entered this place. He's just one of many men who are undressing you with their eyes.”
“They're not!”
“They are, too! Just look at that outfit you're wearing. It invites stares.”
Syneda stared at him with anger reflecting in her eyes and her mouth open. “I don't believe you, Clayton. There's nothing wrong with my outfit.”
“Not if you're a woman looking for a pickup.”
“How dare you—”
“You didn't want to come on vacation with me for fear of cramping my style. Maybe I should have made sure I wouldn't be cramping yours,” he said curtly.
Syneda stood. “I'm leaving.”
Throwing more than enough money on the table to cover the drinks they had ordered but not yet gotten, Clayton followed a fuming Syneda out of the door. Leaving the lounge, they rode in silence along the shoreline road that led back to the condos. As soon as he opened the door to the condo, Syneda entered and went straight to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Clayton let out a disgusted sigh as he poured a drink and stepped out on the terrace. He stood transfixed for an hour or so looking at the ocean that was lit only by the moon's glow. He turned around when he heard a movement behind him. Syneda stood before him. She had changed into a nightshirt.
“Clayton, I'm sorry. I can't believe we had an argument after agreeing not to.”
Clayton held open his arms and she walked into them. He pulled her close to him. “I'm the one who should be apologizing, Syneda. I behaved like a jerk tonight and I apologize. There was nothing wrong with the way you were dressed. You looked sensational. I guess I'm so used to eyeing women myself that I know what goes through other men's minds when I see them doing it. And I don't want them thinking about you that way. I guess I've taken it upon myself to be your protector while we're here.”
“Yeah, so I've noticed. But Clayton, you don't have to protect me. I'm twenty-eight and old enough to take care of myself. Have you forgotten that I live alone in New York?”
Clayton smiled down at her. “Deep down I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't keep me from wanting to do it for you.”
Syneda grinned. “I guess with three younger sisters you're used to it.”
“Maybe so,” Clayton replied, although deep down he had a feeling the root of his problem was jealousy, plain and simple.
Syneda stepped back out of his arms. “I'm really enjoying myself, but I don't think you are. Maybe I should leave tomorrow and return to New York. You're so busy looking out for me that you're not relaxing at all.”
Clayton brushed a stray curl from her face. “No. I'm fine, and I don't want you to leave. I enjoy your company. Like today, for instance. I had a great time building that sandcastle with you on the beach. And tomorrow is our day to spend shopping at the malls, remember.”
Syneda smiled. “How could I possibly forget something as important as that?”
Encircling her with a protective arm, Clayton drew her closer to him. For a long moment there was no conversation between them. They just held each other. Clayton was going through pure torture. Everything about Syneda was sexy, and he felt a quickening in the lower part of his body. If he didn't separate himself from her, he couldn't be held accountable for his actions. “Syneda?”
“Umm?”
“I think we should call it a night, don't you?”
Syneda stepped out of his arms and peered up at him through a sweep of long lashes. A smile covered her lips. “Friends again?”
Clayton returned her smile as a surge of warmth passed through him. “Yes, friends again.”
“Good. As much as we argue at times, I like having you for my friend.”
“And I feel likewise.”
Syneda leaned up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Clayton.”
“Good night, Syneda.”
He watched as she turned to leave. He couldn't help but notice how the sleeper she wore clung to her body, accentuating her shapely hips and tiny waist. He had a feeling he was in for a long, sleepless night.
Chapter 3
“Don't tell me we've finally done something that's tired you out,” Clayton said, grinning. He handed Syneda a cold can of soda. “I was beginning to think you were blessed with never-ending energy.”
Syneda took the soda and flopped down in the nearest chair. “Shopping always tires me out,” she replied after taking a sip of the drink. She set the can on a nearby table and began removing her sandals. “The stores at that mall were wonderful. Just look at all this stuff.”
“I'm looking,” Clayton replied, glancing around at the bags and boxes littering the floor. “Have you forgotten that I helped you carry most of it?”
Syneda smiled. “I really appreciate you being with me. I couldn't have purchased nearly as much stuff had you not been there.”
Clayton glanced around the room shaking his head. “Yeah, your Master Card company should thank me profusely. I wonder if they'll be willing to give me some kind of a kickback since you spent a fortune today.”
Syneda laughed. “I doubt it.” She stood to collect her boxes. “Do you mind if we order out tonight? I don't think I have the energy to get dressed to go anyplace.”
“That's no problem. What do you have a taste for?”
“How about lobster?”
“That sounds good to me. I'll order delivery from a restuarant nearby.”
“Thanks, Clayton, you're such a sweetheart.”
Less than an hour later, a just-showered Syneda stood leaning against the railing on the terrace enjoying the view of the ocean. Clayton had left her a note saying he was going downstairs to the pool for a swim.
From her position on the terrace she could see him below, and for some reason her eyes kept straying toward him. She became entranced by the movement of his muscular legs as he dived into the pool, by the firmness of his stomach beneath his swim trunks and by the mass of dark hair covering his chest. He looked tough, lean and sinewy. His powerful well-muscled toast-brown body moved through the water with easy grace.
“For heaven's sake, what am I staring at?” she exclaimed in dazed exasperation. “You would think I've never seen a good-looking male body before.” And what really bothered her was the fact the body she was ogling belonged to Clayton.
She forced her gaze to move from the pool area back to the view of the ocean. But as if they had a will of their own, her eyes strayed back to Clayton time and time again, and each time she felt a flutter deep in the pit of her stomach. He might be downstairs swimming in the pool, but she was upstairs swimming through a haze of feelings and desires that were almost drowning her.
Knowing the only way she would be able to stay above water and stop looking at him was to move from her present spot, she walked over to stretch out on the lounger to take a nap.
Syneda had nearly dozed off to sleep when she heard Clayton return. She opened her eyes to find him standing next to the lounger. She couldn't help but let her gaze settle on the line of body hair that tapered from his navel into the waistband of his swim trunks.
“Did I wake you?” he asked, stretching down in the lounger opposite hers.
She pulled herself into a sitting position. “Not really. How was your swim?”
“Super. It relaxed me tremendously,” he replied.
And it unsettled me, Syneda thought.
“What's on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asked.
Biting her lower lip, she looked away. “I thought I would give you a break and make it a do-your-own-thing day. That way you can be free of me for a while.” And I can be free of you to sort through all these strange feelings I'm beginning to have, she thought.
“I like having you around.”
“Oh,” she replied. Her eyes were again drawn to the thick mat of hair on his chest. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. Her eyes met his. “Well, then, let's not make any plans. We'll let it be a whatever-happens sort of day.”
“All right.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the terrace enjoying the ocean view and trying not to let it be obvious that they were also enjoying the view of each other.
Later that evening after enjoying a superb lobster dinner, they sat around on the floor drinking the remainder of the wine.
“You have butter on your nose.”
Syneda twitched her nose. “I do?”
Clayton laughed. “Yes, you do.”
When Clayton reached over to wipe it off, their gazes locked and held for several seconds. A mite too long to be at ease.
“Thanks, Clayton,” Syneda said awkwardly, taking another sip of wine. Her mind was clouded with uneasiness. For crying out loud, Syneda Tremain Walters, pull yourself together. You're acting like a bimbo. The man is Clayton, for Pete's sake. You know, Lorren's brother-in-law, the one who changes women as often as he changes socks, the one who has a case of condoms in his closet, and the one who is definitely not your type.
“Here's something we can do tomorrow night.”
Syneda glanced up to find Clayton looking in the entertainment brochure. “What?”
“Take a cruise around Anastasia Island aboard the Rivership Romance.”
Syneda almost choked on her drink. “A romance ship?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you want to do something like that?” she asked. A shadow of caution touched her.
Clayton shrugged. “Because it sounds like fun, and we are here to have fun, aren't we?” he asked, his voice carefully colored in neutral shades.
“Yes, but we'll be out of place aboard that ship.”
“Why?”
“Because most of the people there will either be married or lovers.”
“And you'll feel out of place because we're not either of those things?” he asked, regarding her quizzically for a moment.
“Won't you?”
“Nope. It wouldn't bother me at all. But since it evidently will bother you, forget I suggested it.”
Although her misgivings were increasing by the minute, Syneda felt like a complete heel. The last thing she wanted was to be a bore, especially after he had been nice enough to invite her on this trip with him. “We'll go.”
Clayton shook his head. “We can do something else.”
“No, I'm fine with going.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm positive.”
“All right. I'll make reservations.”
Syneda stood quickly, collecting her empty wineglass. She smiled down at him, although inwardly she struggled with uncertainty. “Well, I guess I'll retire early. It was a tiring day.”
Clayton couldn't help but look up at her. His eyes scanned her, beginning with the polished toes of her bare feet to the golden-bronze hair atop her head. He met her eyes. He could almost drown in them and wondered why he had never felt like doing so before. Then there was that cute little dimple that appeared in her cheek each time she smiled. Why did he suddenly find it totally alluring? His senses began spinning. The scent of her perfume seemed to float around him. It was as sensuous as he found her to be. He inhaled deeply as a need as primitive as mankind touched him. “All right, Syneda. I'll see you in the morning,” he replied huskily.
Syneda took a deep breath and feigned a yawn. “Not too early though. I can barely keep my eyes open so I may sleep in late tomorrow. If I'm not up by the time you want breakfast just go on without me. I'll grab something later. Good night.” She hurried off to her bedroom.
As soon as she was in the privacy of her bedroom, Syneda rushed into the connecting bathroom. The reflection staring back almost startled her. Her features were basically the same, except she had gotten a little browner from the time she had spent in the sun. But that wasn't the only noticeable difference. Her eyes were glazed with a look that definitely spelled trouble. What bothered her was the fact Clayton Madaris was the one responsible for that look being there. And to make matters worse, she would be spending tomorrow night with him on board a romance cruise ship.
Good grief! What am I going to do? I'm becoming attracted to Clayton Madaris!
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Syneda heard the deep masculine sound in her ear at the same moment she felt the warm breath on her neck. She opened one eye slowly, then the other. Her eyes met the sparkling brown ones that held a flicker of mischief in their dark depth. She became instantly wide-awake.
“Clayton! What are you doing in here?”
Clayton was lying down beside her, facing her. “I came to make sure you were still alive.”
Syneda became aware of her state of dress and tugged her nightshirt down. “Of course I'm alive. I told you last night that I'd probably sleep through breakfast. Did you forget?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “No, I didn't forget. I just didn't think you meant you would also sleep through lunch.”
“Lunch! What time is it?”
“Around one-thirty.”
“One-thirty! I didn't mean to sleep so late,” she said, pulling herself up in a sitting position. She forced her gaze from his lips, full and inviting. Somehow they had never intrigued her before as they were doing now.
“You must have really been tired.”
“Yes, I was.” She didn't bother to add that she had lain awake most of the night thinking about him. She suddenly felt uncomfortable at his closeness, and a confusing rush of desire whirled inside her. He was dressed in a blue pullover shirt and a pair of white shorts. The masculine fragrance of his cologne was beginning to dull her senses.
She suddenly realized while she had been staring at him, he'd been doing likewise with her. “I need to get dressed.”
“Don't let me stop you. Just pretend that I'm not here.”
“Fat chance, Clayton Madaris!”
Clayton laughed throatily, and a disarmingly generous smile extended to his eyes. “I was afraid you'd say that.”
Syneda watched him stretch his body before standing. “Okay, Miss Walters, I'll leave you to dress in peace. But if you're not ready to go in twenty minutes, I'm coming back for you.”
Syneda watched as he left the room, closing the door behind him. She tried going back into her mind, into central control, to reset her emotions. She was not ready for the thoughts and feelings she'd begun having around Clayton.
“Senator, I'm glad you're back, sir. How was your trip?”
“The trip was nice, Braxter. It's always good to get away and spend some time with an old friend.” Senator Nedwyn Lansing studied the young man in front of him. As a senator's top aide, Braxter Montgomery at the age of thirty was the best there was. A graduate of Georgetown University, he had begun working for him over six years ago, serving him through almost two full terms. During that time he had gotten to know Braxter as well as the other members of his immediate staff. They were people he could depend on. But only a few he felt he could trust completely. Braxter was one of them.
“Is something bothering you, Braxter?”
“There's nothing bothering me, sir. But there is something I'm concerned about.”
“You worry too much.”
“I'm supposed to. That's part of my job.”
The senator nodded. “All right. Let's sit and talk.”
The two men took seats that were facing each other. “Okay, let's have it, Braxter. What's so concerning that you've missed lunch?”
Braxter eyed the forty-nine-year-old, light-complexioned black man with hazel eyes sitting across from him. He was a man he highly respected. Most people did. Where most senators did good things for their image, Senator Lansing did good things for the people he represented. He was often referred to by the media as the “people's servant.” His life was an open book.
It was a known fact he'd been a sharecropper's son from a small town in Texas not far from the border. His mother had died when he was five. With hard work and dedication, he had completed high school and because of his academic achievements, he had obtained a four-year scholarship to attend the University of Texas in Houston.
It was also well-known that he had never been married, although he'd been steadily dating a law professor at Howard University for the past couple of years. The only thing that had always puzzled Braxter was the senator's annual trip to Texas this time every year; the one he had just returned from. It was a trip he never talked about, other than to say he had gone to visit a friend.
“What I'm concerned about, sir, is your blockage of the Harris Bill.”
Senator Lansing raised a brow. “What about it? That bill needed to be blocked. I flatly refuse to support any legislation that proposes cuts in education.”
“Yes, Senator, and I agree with you. But blocking that bill won't be a popular move on your part. Especially with certain people.”
The senator nodded, knowing Braxter was referring to the creator of the bill, John Harris, and a few other senators who were considered Harris's cronies. “I can't waste my time worrying about some people, Braxter. I want to do what's right for the majority of the people in this country, not just a limited, socially acceptable few. Every child regardless of race, creed, color or social standing is entitled to a good education.”
Braxter smiled. He enjoyed seeing the senator fired up over an important issue. But his job as a senator's aide was to make him aware of what he could possibly be up against. Especially since the kickoff for his reelection campaign was less than two months away.
“I totally agree with everything you're saying. And according to recent polls, the American people are behind you all the way.”
“Then I guess those people whose noses are out of joint will just have to get over it.”
“I really don't know if they will, sir. By blocking that bill, you've stepped on a few toes. I have a feeling they'll step back.”
Senator Lansing smiled. “Let them. I have nothing to hide.”
“Do you remember the first time we met, Syneda?”
Syneda almost blushed under Clayton's warm stare. They were lying side by side on loungers at the pool. “Yes, it was almost two years ago, the night of Justin's cookout to celebrate his purchase of the ranch.” A smile touched her lips. “He was very much interested in Lorren that night.”
Clayton chuckled. “Yes, he was, wasn't he.” Clayton thought about the night he and Syneda had met. When he'd first met her he had thought she was about as explosive as a stick of dynamite next to a blazing torch. Just about any controversial subject could set her off. She had disagreed with him on just about everything. It had been a first for him. Most women agreed with practically everything he said.
There was a brief moment of silence before Syneda spoke. “Clayton?”
“Umm?”
“Why did you ask me if I remembered when we first met?”
“I was just wondering.”
Syneda gazed over at him but couldn't see his eyes behind the aviator-style sunglasses he wore. She wondered what his thoughts were and tried ignoring the funny, shivering sensation in her midsection just being near him was causing. Despite her best intentions, her eyes kept straying to him.
“Syneda?”
“Yes?”
“Did you bring a different bathing suit for every day?” he asked, lifting his sunglasses and squinting at her inquiringly.
She swallowed. Had he been checking her out the way she'd been doing him? “No, why?”
“Because I haven't seen you wear the same suit twice.”
“Are you complaining?” she asked. The smile on his lips sent her pulse spinning.
He gave her body a thorough once-over, which made Syneda's breath lodge in her throat. His gaze moved over her, traveling from her bare feet, up her thighs, past her waist. His gaze paused momentarily on her breasts, before moving to her face where it held hers.
“No. You won't get any complaints out of me. I think you look great. I don't know what happened between you and that guy you were seeing, but it was definitely his loss,” Clayton replied huskily.
The dark brown eyes that held hers appeared to have darkened. What Syneda saw reflected in them made her lose all conscious thought. She read appreciation, attraction, awareness and something she hadn't counted on: desire. Were those the things she saw in his eyes or the things she was afraid he saw in hers?
Stifling a low groan, she quickly came to her feet when she felt an odd rush of heat flare in her belly before moving lower. “Thanks for the compliment, Clayton. I think I'll go back to the condo for a while. There's a book I bought yesterday that I want to start reading before we leave for the cruise tonight,” she said hastily, pulling on her cover-up and grabbing her beach bag. “What time will we be leaving for the cruise?”
“Around seven,” he answered, the huskiness lingering in his tone.
“Okay. I'll be ready. See you later.”
Clayton watched Syneda walk back toward the condo. He took a deep breath with every step she took and with each sway of her hips. How in blazes was he going to get through the evening pretending their relationship hadn't changed? How was he going to spend the rest of the week with her and pretend not to want her when he wanted her like he'd wanted no other woman before?
Going into her bedroom to wake her had been a big mistake. He had found her sprawled atop the covers wearing a loose cotton nightshirt. Evidently sometime during her sleep, the sexy garment had risen to her hips revealing a pair of luscious thighs. And if that hadn't been bad enough, the first few buttons had been undone and had shown a hefty view of the slopes of her breasts.