The Stud (2 page)

That was what he did. Slowly word spread that he was there, and though no one dared raise a glass to the success of
Green Gold,
those closest to the family made a point of going over to greet the author. The rest kept their distance, and wisely so. Spencer had never been the kiss-kiss type. His silver-blue eyes were legendary in their ability to cut phonies down with a glance.

Jenna, too, kept her distance, though not from fear of being cut down. As Caroline's friend, she had immunity. Spencer had always been kind to her, even gentle, just as he was to his sister. For whatever differences he had with his parents, Caroline was special to him. He never failed to call her on her birthday or to send a gift to one of her children on theirs. Jenna respected him for that. She also took it as a clue to his character, a part of him few people saw. She was counting on the clue being apt.

No, it wasn't fear of Spencer that kept Jenna from rushing up to him, as much as a desire to carefully control her approach. Her mission was a delicate one. She wanted to maximize her chance of success. Or so she told herself. But long after the band started playing and people had moved onto the dance floor, she hung back. She immersed herself in conversation with people who stood at the greatest distance from Spencer. She walked Annie, Wes and Nathan down to the beach when she was sure Spencer was with followers in the gazebo. She finally agreed to Charleston with an old family friend, but quickly moved off into the crowd and oblivion the instant the dance was done. When coffee was served and a tiered wedding cake rolled onto the lawn, minus several frosting roses that small fingers had filched, she clung to the fringes.

Her time would come, she knew. When the guests had left and things had quieted, Spencer would be feeling mellow. A mellow Spencer would be more approachable than one whose defenses were in place. A mellow Spencer would be more disposed to consider her proposal. A mellow Spencer would be more likely to accept.

But a mellow Spencer wasn't what she got when, with the party still in full swing, she felt a commanding hand on her arm. She barely had time to look around when, in his deep, brooking-no-defiance voice, Spencer told those with whom she'd been talking, "Would you excuse Jenna? I need her help with something. "

Neither expecting, wanting nor waiting for permission, he drew her free of the circle. His large hand circled hers as he led her off.

"Spencer?" she asked.

But his attention was on working his way through the crowd. "Excuse us, " he said, and slid through one narrow opening, then wove through another. "Sorry. Excuse us. Thanks. "

Jenna didn't bother to say his name again. The set of his jaw told her that he was tense. She didn't want to antagonize him, when she had such a delicate favor to ask. So she went where he led, knowing that he would explain himself in time.

Indeed, as soon as they had cleared the garnering of people on the lawn, he said, "Walk with me. I need air. "

Glad to be of help, she walked. From time to time, she trotted to make up a step on his longer stride, and by the time they reached the end of the lawn, where the retaining wall was broken by steps to the beach, the huff of his pace had eased.

"Can you handle the sand?" he asked with a glance at her shoes.

Using his arm for balance, she slipped off one, then the other of the pale yellow heels. He pushed them into his blazer pockets before she could protest the abuse of the fine cloth, and in the next breath, he pulled the tie from his neck and crammed it in with one of the shoes in a way that said he didn't care.

"You do know that it's painful for me to watch that, " she teased, holding her hair back from her face, where the shore breeze seemed intent on blowing it

The look he sent her was dark, but indulgently so. "You're Caroline's friend. You'll forgive me. " Taking her hand again, he led her down the steps to the beach, along the narrow boardwalk that had been laid years before as a concession to the sharp pebbles, to the far dock. He didn't stop until they were at its very edge. Stepping out of his shoes—Jenna wasn't at all surprised that he hadn't worn socks—he tugged her down to sit beside him.

She gave a brief thought to the silk skirt that was sure to be bruised on the weathered plants—but only a brief thought. One skirt, silk or otherwise, was nothing compared to Spencer's good favor. One skirt was nothing compared to her future.

She wasn't sure why, but he continued to hold her hand. Since the feeling wasn't unpleasant, she let it be.

The tide was out. Their legs dangled a good eight feet above the water, which lapped softly at the rocks on the shore behind them. From a distance came the muted tinkle of a bell buoy. Both sounds were gentle, far more so than Spencer's expression as he stared across the sound.

"Things like this try me, " he said after a long, brooding minute.

"Parties?"

"They're so excessive. "

"But they give your parents pleasure. "

"Does that justify the waste?"

With a sigh, Jenna faced the water. She wasn't going to argue with him.

"You think it does?" he challenged.

Gently she said, "Not personally, no. I lean toward moderation. But what's right for me may not be right for someone else. Your parents are like mine were. They're social creatures, and they have the money. If they want to spend it on a party, that's their choice. As long as they don't tell me how to live my life, I can let them live theirs. "

Spencer shifted her hand from the small space between them to his thigh. He studied her fingers, which were absurdly pale and slender between his long, tanned ones.

"I won't run away, " she said quietly.

He shot her a solemn look that was binding, given the silver of his eyes. "I wasn't sure of that. You've been doing your best to avoid me all afternoon. "

"All afternoon?" She tugged a strand of hair away from her mouth. "You haven't been here but half of it. "

"Thank the good Lord for that, " he muttered. He released another button—the third—on his shirt, filled his lungs with the tangy salt air and blew it out along, it seemed to Jenna, with a bit of his tension. His voice was as deep as ever but less tight. "I have trouble enough with my parents alone. With two hundred of their friends, I'm in pain. "

"This from a man who once stood bound to a stake waiting to be boiled for dinner by a bunch of cannibals?"

"You've been reading too much, " he grumbled.

"I like your books. "

"So does Hollywood.
Green Gold
has been optioned for another Indiana Jones type of thing. "

"That's great!"

"I'm not so sure. It takes away from my credibility. Treasure hunting is serious stuff. "

"Yes, " Jenna said with due graveness. "I can tell that from your books. "

He looked at her.

"I can, " she insisted.

"Mmm. " Neither taking a breath nor looking away, he said, "Caroline told me you wanted to talk. "

Jenna's heart fell. She hadn't wanted Caroline to say anything. She had wanted to pick the time herself, and this wasn't it. If Spencer had felt strangled at the party, this
definitely
wasn't it She wanted him to be feeling loose and open to suggestion when she hit him with her request.

"It can wait, " she said lightly.

"Caroline said it was important. Twice she told me that. "

"She shouldn't have. "

"It's not important?"

"It is, but there's no urgency to it. We should probably be going back to the party, anyway. "

"I don't want to go back to the party. "

"But it's your parents' fiftieth anniversary. That's a precious milestone. "

"Uh-huh, and I invited them to celebrate with me in the Keys, but they refused. "

"Because they're party people. They wanted
everyone
with them. " Her curiosity got the best of her. "What are you doing in the Keys?" With his hair blowing in the breeze, his shirt agape to mid-chest and the scar slashing his jaw, she imagined him a pirate.

"Waiting for a court to decide whether I have the exploration rights to a site where a Spanish galleon sank in the eighteenth century. "

Her eyes widened. "You've found the galleon?"

He nodded. "One of my divers, the first one to spot the wreck, took off and formed his own salvage crew and is claiming that the rights to explore it are his. Neither of us can touch it until the court acts, and the court is pathetically slow. Another six weeks and we'll be into the hurricane season. No one will be doing any exploring then until late fall. "

She gathered her windblown hair in her free hand. "Is there gold on the boat?"

"If the boat turns out to be the one I think and if my research is correct, there is. There should also be a wealth of artifacts aboard. "

"Perfectly preserved?" she asked. She was always in awe of the fact that things could emerge from the ocean floor intact after hundreds of years. There seemed something incredibly peaceful about that, which was ironic given the tumult of a shipwreck.

"Some things will be preserved. Others may have to be restored. "

"Is this your next book?"

"If the court rules in my favor. If not, I'm out one adventure. "

"You'll find another. You always do. How do you manage it?"

"I have friends in strange places. They tip me off. "

"You network, " she said with a smile at the term, which she never would have thought to apply to treasure hunting before.

"I suppose. " He flattened her hand on his thigh and imprisoned it there. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Later. " She could feel the heat and hardness of muscle, and tried to extract her hand, but he refused to let go.

"I may not be here later. "

"Oh, Spencer. You told Caroline you'd stay through tomorrow. " Again she tried to pull her hand free of his touch, this time as a gesture matching her complaint, but he held it fast.

"That was before I came. "

"You've only been here two hours. "

"And already I'm choking. "

"Oh, dear, " Jenna said before she could help herself, because if he felt like he was choking, the
last
thing she could do was to jump into a discussion as sensitive as the one she had in mind.

"You'd better take the chance while you have it, " he warned.

"Why not when the party's done? Things will be quieter then. "

He looked around. "Things are quiet now. "

She let her free hand fall to her lap. The wind promptly dove into her hair, creating a veil of haphazard waves to protect her from his gaze. The next thing she knew, Spencer was gathering the long curls behind one ear and securing them with what felt suspiciously like his necktie. Left with nothing to hide behind, she looked up at him. His eyes were com-pellingly blue and heart-stoppingly direct. "Go ahead, " he said, and captured her hand again. "I'm waiting. "

Jenna's heart skipped a beat.
The time isn't right. The setting isn't right. He'll think I'm crazy. He'll say no.

But his eyes wouldn't let up. They held her in a grip so firm that try as she might, she couldn't look away. His voice didn't help. It was deep and rich, part command, part dare. "Tell me now, Jenna. What is it you want?"

"A baby!" she cried. "I want a baby!"

Chapter 2

Jenna hadn't intended to blurt it out that way, but once she'd heard the words, she knew there was no turning back. She couldn't hem and haw. She couldn't show doubt. If she was to win Spencer's cooperation, she had to make her case well.

To that end, she straightened her back, leveled her voice and said with calmness and just a touch of pride, "I want a baby. I've been wanting one for a while, but suddenly I'm thirty-five, and time's running out. The problem, obviously, is that I don't have a husband—and I don't want one, " she hastened to add, lest Spencer think she wanted him for that. "I'm single by choice. I wouldn't dream of marrying just for the sake of having a baby. That could be disastrous all the way around. "

Spencer was looking puzzled, something she'd never seen before. She would have laughed at the incongruity of the expression on his face if the situation wasn't so serious. Slipping her hand from beneath his, she tucked it into her lap, cleared her throat and went on.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time. I've looked at it from every angle. I've gone through all the possibilities—"

Spencer broke in, sounding as confused as he looked and oddly helpless. "You want me to help you find a baby? I know that adopting foreign kids is in, but Lord, Jenna, that's not my thing. Sure, I'm abroad all the time, but there aren't many babies in the places I hang out"

"That's not what I want. "

He frowned. "Then what is?"

She had practiced the speech so many times that she knew it by heart Granted, Spencer's interruptions might shift around the order of things, but she was determined to get it all out. "Adoption is terrific for people who can't have children of their own, but I can. I'm perfectly healthy. I've been seeing a doctor who says I shouldn't have trouble conceiving. "

"Is he volunteering to help you?"

"Yes, " she said, thinking in medical terms until Spencer's faint leer stopped her short. "Not in
that
sense. He's willing to help me with artificial insemination, which, as I see it, is a viable solution to the problem. "

"Artificial insemination?"

"You know, where—"

"I know what it is. I just can't believe you want to go in for it In fact, I can't believe you have this problem at all. There must be scads of men out there who'd marry you in a minute. "

"Yes, " she acknowledged, holding her chin firm.

"But?"

"I said it before. To marry just to have a baby is absurd. I'd marry for love, but since love hasn't bit me in the face—"

"Don't you date?"

"Some. "

"And you've never felt compatible enough with any of those guys to talk about having a child together?"

"None of them fitted the bill for what I want in the father of my child. "