sport, after all, not the trophy that makes the challenge.”
“You’re a nice man, Cannon Van Dyne,” Margie said gently, and meant it.
He shrugged. “We don’t have such an abundance of wildlife that we can afford to pursue it relentlessly for sport. I don’t need trophies to make me feel like a man.”
She stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his mouth.
“What was that for?” he asked quietly.
She dropped her eyes, moving closer as the skipper turned the fishing boat back toward the harbor. It had suddenly occurred to her that she’d never known a man who was as much a man as the one standing beside her.
“Hey,” he murmured softly, tucking a finger under her chin and raising her face up to his.
She smiled shyly. “What?”
He searched her eyes for a long time. “I’ve never been with a woman who made me feel the way you do.”
“How do I make you feel?” she asked softly.
He touched her mouth lightly with his finger and drew in a long, slow breath. “As if I could conquer the world. You make me feel whole.”
He made her feel the same way, but she was still too unsure of herself to admit it. She dropped her eyes and nuzzled her face into his shoulder, hiding it in the soft folds of his jacket.
“Oh, God, don’t do that when we’re surrounded by people,” he groaned, tightening his arm.
“Do what?” she managed.
“Touch me like that,” he whispered, catching the hand that had unconsciously found its way into the opening of his shirt and was discovering the warmth of hair-roughened skin just below his collarbone.
“Oh,” she breathed, stunned. She hadn’t realized what she was doing.
He looked down into her wide eyes. He was breathing heavily, roughly. “We’ll go swimming when we get home,” he said tautly. “And I’ll let you touch me any way you want to.”
She hid her face against him, embarrassed, excited, trembling with a kind of pleasure that she’d never experienced before.
“Don’t be afraid of it,” he whispered, drawing her closer as the boat made its way to shore. “Just let it happen, Margie.”
As if she could stop it, she thought dizzily, closing her eyes. She felt as if she were caught in an avalanche, with no way of saving herself. And she wasn’t sure that she wanted to.
* * *
Jan and Andy were talking to Victorine when they got back to the beach house. Margie found she hated the very thought of other people. She wanted to be alone with Cannon.
Cannon let her hand go with a noticeable reluctance, his eyes holding hers as they walked into the living room.
“Well, where have you two been?” Victorine asked, her eyes amused.
“Deep-sea fishing,” Cannon offered, lighting a cigarette.
“Catch anything?” Andy asked.
Cannon laughed. “A blue marlin, but I threw it back. It was just a baby.”
“Several hundred pounds worth,” Margie murmured with a grin.
“I’ll never understand you.” Victorine sighed. “Why catch them if you don’t intend to keep them?”
“The challenge, Mother,” Andy answered for his brother. “It’s like mountain climbing, or automobile racing…high adventure.”
“A trout is pretty exciting, too,” Jan murmured, glancing shyly at Cannon. “Margie and Dad and I used to go up into the mountains every year during trout season and wade out into the shallows of the Chattahoochee hoping for a strike.”
Cannon actually looked impressed. “Catch many?” he asked the younger girl.
Jan smiled. “My share,” she admitted. “But I’m afraid I didn’t throw them back. I love broiled trout.”
Cannon laughed. “So do I. But marlin doesn’t suit my palate.”
“Where are you off to now?” Victorine asked Cannon.
He was still watching Margie. “We thought we’d go for a swim,” he said absently.
“What a great idea,” Andy chimed in, catching Jan around the waist. “We’ll join you. Come on, hon, I’ll drop you off at your door while you change. Coming, Margie?”
She glanced at
“You’re a nice man, Cannon Van Dyne,” Margie said gently, and meant it.
He shrugged. “We don’t have such an abundance of wildlife that we can afford to pursue it relentlessly for sport. I don’t need trophies to make me feel like a man.”
She stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his mouth.
“What was that for?” he asked quietly.
She dropped her eyes, moving closer as the skipper turned the fishing boat back toward the harbor. It had suddenly occurred to her that she’d never known a man who was as much a man as the one standing beside her.
“Hey,” he murmured softly, tucking a finger under her chin and raising her face up to his.
She smiled shyly. “What?”
He searched her eyes for a long time. “I’ve never been with a woman who made me feel the way you do.”
“How do I make you feel?” she asked softly.
He touched her mouth lightly with his finger and drew in a long, slow breath. “As if I could conquer the world. You make me feel whole.”
He made her feel the same way, but she was still too unsure of herself to admit it. She dropped her eyes and nuzzled her face into his shoulder, hiding it in the soft folds of his jacket.
“Oh, God, don’t do that when we’re surrounded by people,” he groaned, tightening his arm.
“Do what?” she managed.
“Touch me like that,” he whispered, catching the hand that had unconsciously found its way into the opening of his shirt and was discovering the warmth of hair-roughened skin just below his collarbone.
“Oh,” she breathed, stunned. She hadn’t realized what she was doing.
He looked down into her wide eyes. He was breathing heavily, roughly. “We’ll go swimming when we get home,” he said tautly. “And I’ll let you touch me any way you want to.”
She hid her face against him, embarrassed, excited, trembling with a kind of pleasure that she’d never experienced before.
“Don’t be afraid of it,” he whispered, drawing her closer as the boat made its way to shore. “Just let it happen, Margie.”
As if she could stop it, she thought dizzily, closing her eyes. She felt as if she were caught in an avalanche, with no way of saving herself. And she wasn’t sure that she wanted to.
* * *
Jan and Andy were talking to Victorine when they got back to the beach house. Margie found she hated the very thought of other people. She wanted to be alone with Cannon.
Cannon let her hand go with a noticeable reluctance, his eyes holding hers as they walked into the living room.
“Well, where have you two been?” Victorine asked, her eyes amused.
“Deep-sea fishing,” Cannon offered, lighting a cigarette.
“Catch anything?” Andy asked.
Cannon laughed. “A blue marlin, but I threw it back. It was just a baby.”
“Several hundred pounds worth,” Margie murmured with a grin.
“I’ll never understand you.” Victorine sighed. “Why catch them if you don’t intend to keep them?”
“The challenge, Mother,” Andy answered for his brother. “It’s like mountain climbing, or automobile racing…high adventure.”
“A trout is pretty exciting, too,” Jan murmured, glancing shyly at Cannon. “Margie and Dad and I used to go up into the mountains every year during trout season and wade out into the shallows of the Chattahoochee hoping for a strike.”
Cannon actually looked impressed. “Catch many?” he asked the younger girl.
Jan smiled. “My share,” she admitted. “But I’m afraid I didn’t throw them back. I love broiled trout.”
Cannon laughed. “So do I. But marlin doesn’t suit my palate.”
“Where are you off to now?” Victorine asked Cannon.
He was still watching Margie. “We thought we’d go for a swim,” he said absently.
“What a great idea,” Andy chimed in, catching Jan around the waist. “We’ll join you. Come on, hon, I’ll drop you off at your door while you change. Coming, Margie?”
She glanced at
Similar Books
