Suzie woke up outside, lying on hard boards. She moved slowly, wincing at the stiffness in her limbs when she sat up. She’d fallen asleep on the yacht’s wooden deck, and the sky was growing dark. Splashes of red still glowed softly on the horizon from a sunset she’d just missed. Taking off her sunglasses, she shivered. Now the sun had gone down, it was getting chilly.

She hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, so no wonder she’d fallen asleep in the warm sunshine. Now she felt groggy and terribly thirsty. Her mouth was so dry she must have been sleeping with her mouth open. How embarrassing. The stickiness on her cheek told her she’d been drooling. She could only pray she hadn’t been snoring as well.

The evening was quiet, with no sound of an engine. Nate must not have managed to get it working. Oh man, her flight. She was going to miss it for sure.

She scrambled to her feet and stretched, trying to clear her head of the cotton-wool feeling she’d gotten from sleeping in the sun. She pulled her dress back on over her bikini, then moved toward the cockpit.

Nate was still bent over the yacht’s controls in almost the same position he’d been in when she’d lain down hours earlier. He hadn’t bothered to put his t-shirt back on and still wore only a pair of swimming shorts that hung low around his waist.

She was used to men with tattoos, but Nate didn’t have a single one. The lack of ink somehow made him look more naked and vulnerable than she would have expected. A blank canvas. The idea was strangely appealing. And the way his muscles flexed as he angled his body forward to use his screwdriver was more attractive than any amount of decoration.

She didn’t trust herself to speak yet, because her voice would no doubt come out croaky. She needed a drink. But to get down to the yacht’s kitchen — the galley — she’d have to push past him, keeping her face turned away so he wouldn’t get a face-full of what was sure to be stinky breath.

Maybe she could sneak past him quickly, before he had time to notice?

But as she stepped into the cockpit, he turned. “Finally awake, sleepy head.” The amused glint in his eye made her heart sink. She’d definitely been snoring.

She pushed past him, ignoring the feel of his bare flesh as it grazed her arm and holding her breath until she was safely inside the saloon. Then she grabbed a warm cola out of the basket Rosa had given them and gulped half the can before swishing the sweet liquid around her mouth. Better.

Climbing back up the stairs, she gave him her best irritated look. “What’s going on?”

His mouth twisted. “I thought I’d found the blown circuit, but after overriding it, the engine still won’t start. It’s getting too dark to work, so I’m covering the dashboard so moisture won’t get in overnight. I’ll get it started in the morning.”

“Can we call someone to get rescued? I have to get to the airport or I’ll miss my flight.”

“Catch a later one.”

She let her breath out in an irritated hiss. “I have an important job coming up. I need to get home to prepare for it. And my neighbour’s been looking after my dog for a week. If I don’t get home and take Rusty off her hands, she might not want to dog-sit for me again.”

“As soon as it’s light, I’ll get the engine going. We’ll be rid of each other soon enough.”

She gritted her teeth. “Just make the call.”

“Already did. I spoke to Dalton and told him not to worry.”

“Can’t he come and get me?”

“In the dark?” Nate shook his head. “Too many reefs.” He motioned to the master bedroom at the back of the boat. “Besides, we’ve got a perfectly good bed right there. And if I can’t get the engine going in the morning, we can sail to the mainland easily enough.”

One bed? No, there was another in the bow, and he’d have to sleep in it. If he thought she’d jump in the sack with him, he’d better think again.

“How long would it take us to sail to Denarau?” she asked.

“Depends how much wind there is.” He pushed past her, heading down the steps into the galley. “And now, seeing as our lunch is long gone, I’m going to check the cupboards to see what else we’ve got to eat.”

At the mention of food, her stomach rumbled. “Fine,” she said reluctantly, following him down. “I’ll call the airline and transfer onto a later flight. But I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

Nate stopped on the stairs and she almost ran into his back. She could feel the warmth coming off his body. The cockpit must have been hot, because there was a bead of perspiration still on his neck, and she took a deep breath of his manly aroma. It was so unfair that even his sweat smelled good. Why couldn’t he give off a disgusting stench, instead of a warm, musky scent that made her want to lick the salt off him?

“I didn’t hear any complaints last night when you were ripping my shirt off.” He turned to face her.

“You started it.” Dammit, that had come out sounding like a petulant child. She softened her tone. “I’d had a little too much to drink. It should never have happened.”

“At least we agree on that.”

She realized she was staring at his bare chest and forced herself to look away. Couldn’t he put on a shirt instead of standing around half-naked, posing like an underwear model with an arrogant smirk on his too-handsome face?

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know how he made her knees go weak. The last thing she needed was to get intimate with a guy who’d make her feel stupid, when she needed all the confidence she could get.

Last night’s kiss didn’t change her cast-iron rule: no geeks, no brainiacs, no smart-ass nerds. And she’d especially never want to be with a man who could write software, pilot a yacht, fix an engine, and look like a Bachelor Of The Year centerfold while he was at it. If Nate was this good at everything he did, where did that leave her?

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice stiff. “I want to get past.”

Instead of going to the bottom of the steps to let her through, he moved to one side so she had no choice but to squeeze by. Her arm rubbed against his and their hips brushed. Damn the yacht’s tight spaces. How annoying was it that even the most casual contact with him sent shivers over her skin?

She went into the master cabin and used the tiny ensuite bathroom to shower and change. Then she called the airline. After a long wait, they eventually changed her flight booking. There was only one direct flight a day from Nadi to LA. She rebooked for Monday night, which meant she’d get home Tuesday mid-morning. Later than she’d wanted, but enough time to prepare for the wedding.

Finally Suzie called the neighbor who was looking after her dog to let her know she was going to be late home. By the time she hung up, her phone was out of juice and beeping at her, so she attached the charger and plugged it into the power socket next to the bed. She could call Laura again in the morning.

She sniffed the air. Something smelled utterly delicious, and for a change, it wasn’t Nate’s musky man sweat. Was he cooking sausages? The scent was both meaty and spicy.

When she opened the door, the saloon was dark except for an old-fashioned hurricane lantern flickering on the dining table, and another in the galley. Surely Nate hadn’t lit them to make their dinner romantic? If he had, she’d set him straight right now.

“What’s this?” she demanded.

He was stirring a pot on the stove and the aroma made her stomach growl. At least he’d put a T-shirt and jeans on, so the hunger in her belly didn’t have cause to move any lower.

“If you’ve finished in the cabin, please turn the light off,” he said without turning around.

“Why?”

“We need to save the battery. It was low when we started, and we weren’t under power for long enough to give it a decent charge. If it goes flat, we’ll be in real trouble.”

Okay, she could deal with low, romantic light for one night. It wasn’t like she was going to spend the evening staring into Nate’s soulful brown eyes. And just because he’d cast some sort of evil spell over her body didn’t mean she was in any danger of acting on it again. No, she had herself firmly under control.

She flicked the cabin light off, then tried to see over his shoulder. “What are you cooking?”

“Dinner was ready a while ago. I’ve been keeping it warm.”

It was only a mild rebuke, but she defended herself anyway. “I was on hold all that time, waiting to speak to someone from the airline. They next flight they could get me on leaves tomorrow night.”

“If you’d used Journeyman you could’ve had it rebooked in a few minutes. I would have lent you my laptop.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather spend an hour on the phone than use your software.”

“Don’t you think that’s petty?”

In the dim light, his features were as perfect as a painting, as though somebody had started with a dark square of charcoal and carefully picked out the details of his strong chin and high cheekbones with an eraser.

“Not really. I lost a business I loved, and it was partly due to your software.” And when she was suddenly unemployed, it had sunk in how limited her options were without a high school diploma. Not that she’d ever tell Nate she hadn’t graduated with the rest of her class. No doubt he had as many letters after his name as Laura did.

“If I hadn’t written Journeyman, someone else would have. You can’t stop progress.”

“And progress matters more than people’s livelihoods?”

“You may as well be a candle maker and complain about Edison inventing the light bulb.”

Jerk. He thought he was so clever. “Comparing yourself to Edison? Arrogant much?”

He flushed. Good. Her jibe had hit home.

“You found a new job anyway,” he said.

“That’s right. I have a catering company.” The lie came out before she could stop it, and she bit her lip. So it had taken her a long time to pick herself up after the failure of her travel business. She should be done feeling bad about that. Why did she care so much what he thought of her? Besides, if she was only working part-time for Marianna and barely making enough to survive, it was partly his fault.

“I’m catering a big wedding on Friday, and I need to prepare for it,” she said.

His eyebrows lifted. “That’s why you’re in such a hurry to get home? A wedding that’s five days away?”

“Since when do I have to explain myself to you, Milhouse?” He might think a single catering job wasn’t important enough to worry about, but it was a big deal to her.

His jaw tightened. “Don’t call me that. If you’re going to act like a child, I’ll punish you like one and put you over my knee.”

“In your dreams.” She squeezed her hands into fists, fighting against a thrill at the mental image of him drawing her panties down and spanking her bare ass. No, that thought would not turn her on.

He took another step forward until he was so close the air rushed out of her lungs. His face was kissing distance away and she could almost taste him. Her heart sped up and her blood was suddenly liquid heat, searing through her veins. Every nerve ending was alive, and between her legs she felt a familiar ache of need.

“Don’t tempt me.” His voice was harsh.

Her lips parted. She wanted to object, but her voice was lost deep inside her and she wasn’t sure if she could form a coherent word. Tempt him? It was as though he had her body on remote control and could throw her into absolute confusion at will.

“I don’t—”

Then she felt his hand slide around her back and he pulled her against him. His hard length jutted angrily into her belly. She felt suddenly weak.

“You do.” He let her go and she stumbled backwards. Her backside hit the edge of the table and she grabbed it. Her legs were so wobbly it was either hold on or fall down. Sweet mother of mercy. Did that just happen? Her mind was whirling, her heart thudding, and she couldn’t drag in a breath.

Air. She needed fresh air.

Spinning around, she rushed up the stairs to the cockpit, then onto the deck. It was pitch black outside, but the slight breeze was refreshing. Fresh air filled her lungs. Better.

Crossing to the rail, she stared into the darkness and cursed herself. Running up here had been a mistake. By taking off like that, she’d only showed him that he’d affected her. She should have pushed him away, told him to keep his hands off her. Stood up for herself.

Why had she got so angry and called him that stupid nickname anyway? She never lost her cool so quickly, but around him she felt out of control and her anger flared in defense. If she was honest, it wasn’t about the lie he’d told, or past hurts, but the way her body kept reacting to him. Was she a teenager, with hormones in overdrive? After all the bad boys she’d survived, how crazy was it that a geek could throw her into total confusion?

She took some deep breaths. The cool breeze felt good against her bare arms and legs, but she was starting to feel silly for getting worked up and rushing out. She was an adult, for heaven’s sake, and they were stuck with each other until tomorrow. They should be able to share a meal without drama.

A light touch on her arm made her jump. Nate spoke from behind her, but his normal assertive tone had softened. “You okay, Suzie?”

She faced him slowly, her heart starting up again just as she’d got it calmed down. A cloud covered the moon, and he was little more than a dark shape in front of her. She forced herself to sound casual. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

“Come inside. Have something to eat. We can start over.” His tone was gentle. In the darkness he could almost be a different man.

Good idea. If they could start again, she could keep her cool and not let herself get so rattled.

She nodded, not sure if he could see the movement in the dark. But he turned and went back inside the yacht, and after a moment she followed.

When she went down the stairs, Nate was back at the stove. “To answer your original question,” he said, his tone as calm as though nothing had happened. “I’ve made stew. It’s mainly from cans, because that’s all there was, but I found some spices to give it more flavor.” He pulled a couple of bowls out of the cupboard and ladled in the food.

Suzie sat at the table and cleared her throat, determined to sound as casual as he did. “It smells good.”

He turned with the bowls in each hand, his eyes wide and mouth open in a shocked expression so exaggerated it made her smile in spite of herself. “Was that really a compliment?”

“I think it was.” She shrugged, playing along. “Guess I must be the bigger person.”

He put the bowls down. “Really? In that case, I’ve been thinking how beautiful you are.”

“Sure you were. A little competitive, are we?” Still, she felt a blush spread up her cheeks.

“You’re as perceptive as you are lovely. And if it was a competition, I just won it.”

“You think?” Finally, a chance to beat him at something. “Well, I want to thank you for cooking. Not only does it smell delicious, but I admire the way you put it together from what you found in the cupboards.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling in the light of the hurricane lantern. “Now you’re messing with my head. Stop before you freak me out.”

She laughed, and was surprised at how good it felt. Sharing a joke had sucked the tension out of the air.

Besides, he had the most amazing smile. It was slightly crooked, his lips quirking up higher on one side. It made his square, manly face seem almost boyish, and she saw a ghost of the small, skinny kid he’d been, the one she’d christened Milhouse. It made her heart lurch. If she could jump in a time machine and go back to her teenaged years, she’d do things differently. For a start, she would never have given him that stupid nickname.

Nate went back into the galley. “Dalton obviously has his priorities right. There are only a few cans of food in the cupboards, but plenty of drinks. I’ve found sodas, wine, and beer. Even some apple cider. They’re all warm of course.”

“Any white wine?”

“Coming up.” He poured her a glass, got a beer for himself, and sat down. “Not arguing is better,” he said casually, before tasting the stew.

“Agreed.” She took a bite as well. Then another. It tasted every bit as good as it smelled. Of course it did. Her stomach was grateful, but she couldn’t help an internal sigh. Cooking was something she did well, and if only there was something she could do that Nate couldn’t, maybe she wouldn’t always feel second best.

“How did you learn to cook?” she asked between mouthfuls.

He shrugged. “I live alone and don’t like takeout.”

“In New York?”

“That’s right.” He frowned. “I don’t remember mentioning that.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Laura told me.” Dammit, now he knew she and Laura had discussed him.

“Has anyone told you that when you flush, it makes your eyes look very blue?”

That made her face even hotter, which was probably why he’d said it. She could have said something about his eyes in return. Like, when the sun hit them they were dusted with gold, but in the flickering light of the hurricane lantern, they looked almost black. Of course she’d never tell him she’d noticed. He might get the wrong idea.

She took a big gulp of her warm Chardonnay. Just because in the years since high school he’d managed to become irresistibly hot didn’t mean she should be so attracted to him. You hear that, body?

Trouble was, her body had always been a rebel and it wasn’t in the habit of listening to reason.