After Midnight by Diana Palmer Page A

tacked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBad memories?” Jake probed.
    Kane took a slow breath. “Complications. I seem to be acquiring them in bunches like bananas lately. Especially one slender brunette one.”
    â€œA woman. Not a professional woman…?”
    Kane chuckled. “No. She’s the pipe and slippers sort, to be avoided at all costs.”
    â€œNot like Chris, in other words.”
    Kane gave him a narrow look. “No. Definitely not like Chris. She isn’t an opportunist.”
    â€œWhat is she?”
    â€œIntelligent and proud,” he muttered. “Possessive. Independent.” He didn’t want to talk about her. “I don’t want another hard fall. One in a lifetime is enough.”
    â€œOh, by all means, avoid entanglements,” the older man agreed easily. He glanced up at the ballooned sail and smiled as he admired the set of it. “We’re making good time. We really ought to enter this baby in the Cup trials.”
    â€œI don’t want to sail in the Cup.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œFor one reason—because I don’t have the time.”
    Jake shrugged philosophically. “I can’t argue with that. But you’re missing the thrill of a lifetime.”
    â€œNo, I’m not. Look out there,” he said, gesturing toward the horizon. “This is the thrill of a lifetime, every minute I spend on this deck. I don’t have to prove anything to the world, least of all that I’m the best sailor in the water.”
    â€œNice to feel that way. Most of us feel we have to live up to some invisible, indefinable goal.”
    â€œWhy bother? You can’t please most people. Please yourself instead.”
    Jake leaned against the rail and stared at him, hard. “That’s selfish.”
    â€œI’m a selfish man. I don’t know how to give.” He met Jake’s eyes, and his own were cold, leaden. “Like the rest of the minnows in this icy pond we call life, I’m just trying to stay alive in a society that rewards mediocrity and punishes accomplishment and intelligence.”
    â€œCynic.”
    â€œWho wouldn’t be? My God, man, look around you! How many people do you know who wouldn’t cut your throat to get ahead or make a profit?”
    â€œOne. Me.”
    Kane smiled. “Yeah. You.”
    â€œYou’re restless. Isn’t it about time we went back to Charleston and you did what you do best?”
    â€œWhat do I do best,” he asked absently, “run the company or make waves for the local politicians?”
    â€œBoth. I don’t run a major business, but I know one thing. It’s damned risky to leave subordinates in charge, no matter how competent they are. Things go wrong.”
    Kane turned to study his friend. “Something you know from experience, right?”
    Jake chuckled. “Yeah. I sat out half a race and we lost the Cup.”
    â€œNot your fault.”
    â€œTell me that every day. I might believe it.” He glanced out over the sea toward the horizon. “Storm blowing up. We’re in for some weather. It might be a good idea to head back, before you get caught up in the joy of fighting the sea again,” he added with a dark look.
    Kane had cause to remember the last time he’d been in a battle with the ocean during a gale. He’d laughed and brought the boat in, but Jake hadn’t enjoyed the ride. He’d been sick.
    â€œGo ahead, laugh,” Jake muttered.
    â€œSorry. I need a challenge now and again, that’s all,” he said apologetically. “Something to fight,someone to fight. I guess the world sits on me sometimes and I have to get it out of my system.”
    â€œThe world sits on us all, and you’ve more reason to chafe than most. It’s just a year today, isn’t it?”
    â€œA year.” Kane didn’t like remembering the anniversary of the car bomb that had killed his family. He