An Unexpected Father Page 11

  Ian snorted, his momentary good humor erased. “I dream about sailing my boat on the ocean where there’s no women around to pester me.”

  Anna laughed and left the shop. Ian racked his tools and slumped to a seat on a stool at the end of the workbench. He could feel a mistake coming. After what had happened this afternoon, the last thing he needed to see was more of Mimi Green. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell her sweet fragrance, feel her breasts pressing gently against his chest. That brief taste of her only made him want more. He rubbed his hands over his face, pressing fingertips into his eye sockets.

  Please don’t let me make the same mistake again.

  Dropping his hands, he sighed. Somehow, he would get through the evening, have a few drinks and laughs with Anna, then get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. The good thing was that the Gull was usually busy on Saturday nights, so Mimi would be working. At worst, he would be close to her for only a few seconds.

  Ian held that thought like a shield. Getting to his feet, he shut off the shop lights and locked the door behind him. Grabbing a change of clothes from the boat, he went ashore to shower in the yard facilities. As he got ready, he focused on the list of projects left to do on Minerva, mentally going through each item one at a time. He realized his scheme to distract himself had worked too well when he looked in the mirror: his whiskers were half gone. After an annoyed pause, he completed the job. It didn’t mean anything; it was just habit. Splashing his face, he cleaned off the remaining shaving cream and stray hairs.

  More than a half hour later, Ian opened the door to the Laughing Gull and stepped inside. The place was packed, but it was strangely quiet, most of the chatter a low murmur rather than the usual dull roar. Over the voices, he heard a guitar and a low, husky voice that sent a shiver over his skin. A woman was singing about love, loss and too many miles of highway. Across the room, he saw the source of the beautiful voice: Mimi Green.

  Her eyes were closed as she sang, then they opened and she smiled. Ian backed up a pace or two, keeping to the shadows. She was beautiful, as always, but there was something more tonight. There was no spotlight, nothing to draw the eye to her face, but she—his mind fumbled for the word—she glowed. Like an inner source of light lit her face.

  The door swung opened behind him, jostling his arm.

  “Hey, man, you in or out?”

  The voice startled Ian out of his trance. He turned his head, surprised to see Evan McKenzie. His right arm was draped over the shoulder of a buxom blonde.

  “Ian! I was betting you wouldn’t show up for this.”

  “For what?” Ian asked as he dropped a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Nice to see you, Kippy.”

  “You, too, Ian,” the woman said with a lush red smile. Her voice was breathy, puffing on his cheek.

  “Mimi’s big comeback,” Evan said, in answer to Ian’s question. “Patrick and Anna invited everyone. They should have a table reserved for us.” Evan craned his neck, scanning the crowd over Ian’s shoulder. “There they are. Lead the way, man.”

  Evan poked Ian, pointing off to the left. Ian turned and reluctantly headed farther into the bar. When he reached the table near the windows, he saw not only Anna, but Patrick, Kate, his other sister Jeannie and her husband, Charlie. There was a flurry of cheek-kissing and handclasps, then Ian settled into a chair next to Anna. Evan and Kippy sat on the other side of the table, next to Kate and Patrick. Anna looked over at the new couple, frowning slightly.

  Ian nudged her. “So glad that it’s just the two of us,” he hissed and pinned her with a frosty stare.

  Anna shrugged innocently. Her face was solemn, but her eyes were laughing. “Who knew there would be a party for my last night?”

  Ian snorted and shook his head: his sister was impossible. Patrick poured a beer from the pitcher and slid the glass across the table to Ian. He offered the same to Evan and Kippy. She declined and asked for a strawberry daiquiri.

  Anna’s eyes narrowed on Evan. She leaned closer to Ian and asked, “Who’s the bimbo?”

  Ian took a deep drink of his beer. “His girlfriend.”

  “Girlfriend as in singular? Since when is Evan involved with one woman at a time?”

  “Jealous?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

  Anna frowned, her dark eyes shooting sparks at him. “Why would I be—”

  “Quiet, Annie,” Patrick interrupted. “Some of us want to hear the music.”

  Anna’s mouth closed with a snap and she turned her glare on Patrick. He shook his head at her, then looked over at Kate with a shrug. Jeannie tapped Patrick on the shoulder and wagged a finger at him. He stuck out his tongue, making her laugh. Evan whispered something to Kippy and she giggled. Anna glanced at them, distaste flickering over her face. Ian watched the whole interchange and sighed. Family.

  As the table quieted, Ian let Mimi’s husky voice capture his attention. From where he sat he had a clear view of her on her stool. The expressions that played across her face mesmerized him. Watching her, he found it too easy to ignore everyone around him. The crowd in the bar seemed to fade into the distance until he and Mimi were alone. He listened—awed—as she filled each word of her song with feeling, giving them life and beauty.

  “She’s good,” he heard Patrick remark. “Did you know she could sing like this, Annie?”

  “She’s better than I remember,” Anna said. “Hard to believe she gave it up.”

  “Has she made any recordings?” Kate asked.

  “A few,” Anna said. “I don’t think any recent ones. We’ll have to ask her.”

  Ian barely heard this conversation. Mimi’s sweet voice and the chords from her guitar had seduced him much more than her kiss. He was ensnared by her siren’s voice wrapping around him, drawing him deeper and deeper to a place from which he could not escape.

  MIMI ENDED HER FIRST SET with a comical, pointed song about the differences between men and women. She stood for a round of applause and promised to sing more after a break. As soon as she stowed her guitar, several fans surrounded her. Some were old friends who remembered her in high school. She smiled, shook hands, autographed a few handbills and repeated the same phrase over and over: “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Thank you.”

  Flushed and exhilarated, Mimi knew she hadn’t played or sung this well in a very long time. Something about tonight had made the chemistry just right. A waving arm across the room caught her attention. It was Anna, beckoning her.

  “Excuse me,” Mimi said to the group that pressed around her makeshift stage. “I see someone that I have to talk to.” Deftly, politely, she extricated herself and hurried over to embrace Anna who met her halfway. “I am so impressed!” Anna said excitedly, her brown eyes sparkling with delight.

  “Did you like it? I started out a little nervous, but I think pushed through it.”

  “Are you kidding? We’ve all been talking about how good you are.” Anna indicated the table behind them full of familiar faces. “Can you join us for a minute?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Anna led Mimi to the crowded table and everyone rose to their feet. After a confusing flood of greetings, introductions and praise, Mimi found herself sandwiched between her friend and Ian. Their shoulders competed for the same space.

  “Sorry,” she said as her knee bumped his.

  “No problem,” he said, jerking away slightly.

  Mimi flushed, embarrassed to be practically sitting in his lap. Ian didn’t seem any happier at the situation. He surprised her when he turned and dropped his arm behind her, hooking his hand on the back of her chair. Her shoulder now brushed his chest as she was partially encompassed by his embrace. This close, she could smell his aftershave, tangy with a hint of spice. It reminded her of being in his arms all too briefly earlier.

  “Better?” he asked, his dark eyes holding hers.

  Mimi nodded and swallowed once. She could still feel the bristles of his beard against her lips. The roughness was gone now. Was hi
s cheek as smooth as it looked? She wanted to lean over and find out—that and so much more.

  “We want to know where we can buy some of your recordings,” Anna said.

  The question startled Mimi. She turned her head toward her friend and tried to smile naturally. “I don’t know. I made a couple of CDs a while back, but they were distributed through a microlabel that’s no longer in business.”

  “Well, get back in the studio, girl. We demand to hear more of you.”

  There was a chorus of agreement around the table. Soon everyone seemed to be talking at once, except for Ian and herself. Mimi spoke when required, but she couldn’t follow any particular thread. Her attention lingered on the line of skin where she and Ian Berzani touched. His shirt and her dress covered that skin, but that did not prevent her from feeling a burning sensation. Every time he moved, her body heat rose a degree.

  She didn’t dare look at him again for fear of making of fool of herself. Bad enough that she could feel every breath he took. She wanted to lean into him, make his arms encircle her instead of this teasing, vague half-embrace. Would she feel his heart beating as fast as hers? When he said something to Patrick, she darted a glance at him. To her chagrin, he looked completely at ease, calm and cool.

  Mimi crossed her legs to pull away from him a bit more. As she did, her skirt hem rose, baring more of her thighs. She hurriedly tugged the sparkling chiffon back to its proper place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ian’s head turn toward her. She felt more than saw his gaze track her movement, and looked over. Their glances met for a split second—and locked.

  His dark eyes held a fire that she hadn’t seen since the first day they met. Then, she had imagined that they flared with pain, or anger. This time, she saw something else: desire. Ian said nothing. Mouth dry, Mimi could not speak either. She licked her lips. Ian’s arm tightened slightly, drawing her closer. He leaned in to her, and her lips parted in anticipation.

  “Who’s buying the next round?”

  Mimi and Ian both jumped at Anna’s loud question. Ian shifted, sitting up straighter. His arm relaxed and fell away from the back of her chair. Mimi looked down at her hands knotted together in her lap. The knuckles were white. She closed her eyes for a second, drawing in a deep breath. She glanced around the table, but no one seemed to have noticed anything. They were all looking at Anna.

  “You asked, you buy,” Evan said.

  Everyone began calling orders. “Just refill the pitcher.”

  “I’d like another daiquiri.”

  “Can we switch to light beer?”

  “Wait. Wait!” Anna said with a laugh. “Do I look like a waitress?”

  “Yep,” Evan said. “Especially if I close my eyes.”

  “McKenzie, if you—”

  “I’ll do it,” Ian said, his tone impatient. “Better to buy a round than listen to you two bicker.” He stood and snatched up the empty pitcher. After taking everyone’s order, he turned to Mimi. “Give me a hand, will you?”

  “Sure.”

  She stood, and Ian followed her through the crowded room. Halfway across, he put a hand on her back to steer her toward the right side of the bar. A waiter passed with a tray of empty glasses. Ian handed him the pitcher and kept moving. When they got near the side door, his other hand wrapped around her arm and he tugged her through the door and outside.

  “This isn’t the way to the bar,” she said, the pounding of her heart filling her ears.

  He was silent as he drew her away from the pool of light spilling over the ground and into the shadows. She stumbled a little on the uneven paving stones. Ian stopped. His hands clasped her waist, and he turned her to face him. A shiver ran over her skin: a small thrill of anticipation mingled with alarm.

  “Ian?” Her voice was a whisper of sound. “What are you doing?”

  Again, he kept his silence. As her sight slowly adjusted, Mimi could only make out the shape of his head, his broad shoulders, the paler stripes on his shirt. Her hands rose and lightly—tentatively—came to a rest on his chest. He sighed as she touched him, like a breath held for an unendurable time, then released. Eyes wide, she tilted her head up, searching for an answer in his face. His head dipped toward hers and she felt his breath on her cheek, then on her lips.

  Her own breath caught in her lungs, trapped by the beating of her heart. Slowly, his mouth descended to hers. First came a feather-light brush of contact, so slight it was hardly a kiss at all. Despite the softness of it, there should have been a blinding spark. Mimi felt a shock wave from her head to her toes.

  The second kiss came just as carefully, but there was nothing soft about it. Ian’s lips settled over hers. His arms enclosed her. Palms spread against her back, he exerted the slightest pressure, drawing her body close, then closer still. Mimi willingly fitted herself to the long, lean-muscled strength of his body. The thumping of his heart resonated in his chest like the music from her guitar. Her hands slid around Ian’s neck, fingers delving into the thick curls that seemed eager to entwine them.

  Ian lifted his mouth from hers for a breath of time. “Tell me why I waited so long to taste you.”

  She had no answer and he did not wait for one. His lips pressed to hers again. His tongue traced her lower lip, then stole into her mouth to taste her more deeply. With a soft moan, she welcomed him. She wanted more and more and more.

  His right hand stroked up her back, following the path of her spine. Fingers meshed into the fall of her hair, he gently tugged her head back, exposing the line of her throat. Running a trail of kisses over her chin, he bit and licked as he moved his mouth downward. His other hand slid to her waist, then lower, pressing her hips to his. She felt the ridge of his erection and arched her back in instinctive need.

  “Mom? Are you out here?”

  The question split the silence and their secret embrace. Ian’s hands lingered at her waist for a moment before he took one step away, then another. Mimi swayed for a second, dizzy and light-headed. The side door opened farther and she saw Jack stick his head out.

  “Oh, there you are.” He stepped out onto the patio. “Grandmom says I have to—Ian? Hi! What’re you doing out here?”

  “Hey, runt.” Ian’s voice was only slightly ragged, not so much that Jack would notice. “Your mom wanted some fresh air before she strapped on her guitar again.”

  Mimi was grateful that he answered Jack. Words were impossible for a few seconds. She stepped into the light flooding from the windows and laid her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “What are you doing here, young man? It’s past ten.”

  “Can’t I stay a little longer?”

  “Sorry, but it’s late.” Mimi stroked her hand over the side of his face.

  “Please?”

  “Aren’t we going sailing tomorrow?” Ian asked.

  “You bet!”

  “Then go get some sleep. I want wide-awake crew.”

  Claire came through the door. “Here you are, you rascal. You’re supposed to be on your way to bed. Come along now.”

  “See you in the morning, kiddo,” Mimi said. She bent down to kiss him, but he squirmed away. “Thanks for taking him, Mom.”

  “Your singing was lovely. Your fans are ready for more.”

  Mimi turned and looked at Ian, who lingered in the dark. She couldn’t read his expression. “I should get to it.”

  He nodded and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, Anna and Evan have probably torn each other to pieces and the rest of them are wondering where their drinks went.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “No. I’ll get them.”

  Mimi turned and grabbed the door handle. Ian’s hand covered hers. She shivered again at his touch, swallowing hard on the desire to turn and melt into his embrace. Jack and her mother still watched, so she stepped aside and let Ian open the door. Inside, in the dim lights of the Gull, his face remained closed, but she could see a dark fire in his eyes. A shiver ran across her skin.

  “Will I see you lat
er?” she asked.

  Ian was silent. He looked down, then back up into her eyes. “Yes.”

  A thrill ran through her, raising goose bumps across her skin. When she spoke, she was breathless. “I’ll see you…after, then.”

  Ian nodded once and turned away. Mimi watched him disappear into the crowd, then went over to her guitar. Picking it up, she fiddled with the strings, mostly to give herself time to recover. Her brain was whirling, her tongue befuddled. The minutes they had spent in the dark still pulsed through her. Somehow, she had to channel her desire into her music. Her fingers began strumming a love song a friend of hers had written long ago. The chords flowed through her hands and into the guitar, wrapping the crowd in warmth. Yes, her heart sang. Yes to anything at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Ian leaned against the end of the bar waiting for his drinks. George had two assistants helping him tonight. All three worked at full speed, trying to keep up with the orders. He tapped a fold of bills on the counter, feeling caged, impatient. A couple walked through the front entrance and right past where he stood. Leave, common sense advised him. Get out while you still can. Ian glanced at the door, considering this safest of options, but didn’t move.

  Behind him, he heard Mimi’s voice rise in song once again. He closed his eyes and let it transport him back to the warm shadows outside the Gull. Her body was imprinted on his, her taste on his tongue. That flavor had him thirsting for more. Ian forced his eyes open and shook his head to clear it. What was he doing?

  Patrick appeared at his side. “What’s taking so long?”

  “They’re slammed.”

  His brother watched the bartenders for a moment, then turned to Ian. “I saw you and Mimi take a detour.”

  The words caught Ian off guard. “She wanted some fresh air.”

  “Right. And Evan’s a candidate for the priesthood.”

  “It was nothing.”

  Patrick laughed. “Come on, bro. I may be married, but I’m not dead. I know lust when I see it.”