He didn’t want to disturb her, but he couldn’t just stand there waiting to see if she were truly asleep or not. The situation left him disoriented. If ever there were a man unaccustomed to indecision, it was Ian Buckley. He’d built a pharaoh's fortune on the ability to make quick, smart decisions.
It shouldn’t have surprised him, though, since it had been a day packed with the unusual and unlikely. He shouldn’t even be standing on the path right then; he should have been back in the city, overseeing the investigation into the marriage license debacle.
But he hadn’t managed to work for even a whole hour after Jada had left. He wanted to see her again, ASAP, and there’d been no convincing himself to wait any longer.
As a concession to appearances, he’d decided to drive out to the lake cabin, rather than having the helicopter take him when it returned for Jada’s cat and clothes. The last thing he wanted was to look eager, and the drive would give him a chance to cool off.
Now, here he was, but he wasn’t any cooler. If anything, he was worse than before. It was ridiculous, really, that a tiny woman like Jada could have him unsure and hesitant.
He squared his shoulders and turned to Billy. “I’ll take everything. You can go on your way. Thanks.”
“As you wish, Sir.” Billy handed over the rods and reels, the tackle box, net, and the small cooler. He frowned at Ian’s overloaded arms. “I don’t mind toting your stuff, Sir. That’s an awful lot and—”
Ian’s brows shot up. “Are you implying I’m too old and feeble to carry my own fishing gear, young man?”
“Oh, Gawd, no. I didn’t mean that. I just meant ... never mind. I’m on my way, Sir. Sorry.”
Ian grinned as he watched the kid beat a swift retreat up the path. He shouldn’t have given poor Billy a hard time, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. It was good for him, anyway. Kept him on his toes.
Ian turned toward the dock again, not a hundred feet away. Was Jada asleep? He straightened up. Only one way to find out.
He marched down the path and onto the dock, his soft-soled shoes making little sound. As he came up beside Jada’s relaxed form, he skidded to a halt. Sure enough, her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Damn.
He stood stock still. Now what? Well, if nothing else, he could take advantage of the opportunity to look at her as long as he wanted.
She was lovely, her features peaceful and soft in sleep. She had the tiniest smile on her full lips and he thought she must be dreaming something pleasant. He eyed her graceful limbs, both arms and legs bare in the warm sunshine, gleaming a golden, satiny brown in the afternoon light. She had the softest-looking, most velvety skin that begged to be stroked.
He deliberately avoided looking at her chest, realizing he was being kind of pervy as it was. Indeed, the notion of himself as a peeping Tom didn’t suit him, so he decided the best thing for everyone involved was to accidentally drop the tackle box.
The box landed on the wooden planks with a thud and a loud jangle of interior contents. Jada’s eyes flew open and she jerked upright in her seat. She looked down at the box, then up at Ian, confusion obvious on her face.
“Sorry,” Ian said, slowly lowering the rest of the gear onto the dock. “I guess I dropped the box. Sorry if I woke you.”
She smiled then, a wide, half-sleepy smile and dropped against the back of the lounger. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “Oh, it’s you. I was dreaming about you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, I—” her expression changed and she dropped her arms, sat upright. “What did I just say?”
“You said you were dreaming about me.”
“I did? How embarrassing. Well, I was still kind of asleep. I wasn’t thinking right. Forget about that.”
“If you say so.” Ian gave her a roguish smile. “But I’d rather remember if it’s all the same to you.”
She looked down at her lap, tugged on the hem of her shorts self-consciously. “No. It’s best we both forget it.”
She was adorable, Ian thought. “Forget what?”
She tilted her head and gave him a sideways look. “I’m surprised to see you. I didn’t know you were coming. I hope I’m not in your way.”
He realized she was referring to the fishing gear. “No. I was hoping you’d join me. Do you fish?”
She swiveled on the lounger, knees touching primly as she perched on the side, eying the gear. “I do, sometimes. I’ll join you, but only if there’s beer in that cooler.”
He bent down, popped open the lid and gestured to the contents. “Your wish is my command.”
“Yeah, that’s apparently true for everyone at this place,” she said drily.
“Staff been smothering you?”
“Yep. But I’m not complaining. They’re very nice. I blame you, actually.”
“You do?”
“They’re motivated people who don’t have enough to do. That’s your fault. You should send them more guests to care for.”
“I’ll think about it. Glad you’re here to set things straight.”
Jada shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
“Now that you’ve got that squared away, shall we get going?”
“We’re not fishing here?”
“I thought we’d go out in a boat. I know all the good spots.”
“It’s a bad time. They won’t be biting.”
“Hey. You do know something about fishing.”
Jada stood. “I’ll go in the boat, but you have to promise not to get my new clothes wet or dirty. Deal?”
He scanned her head to toe. “I’ll do my best. You look very pretty, by the way.”
She glanced down in embarrassment. “Thanks.”
Ian wanted to kick himself. He’d gone and made the situation awkward. He tried to cover it by picking up the gear. Jada took the poles and followed him in silence.
It was only a few moments before they were at the nearest boat dock. Ian dropped his gear in one of the trim rowboats and relieved Jada of the rods.
Jada took in the craft from bow to stern. “A rowboat? Really? I expected a shiny speed boat with all the bells and whistles.”
He was glad to hear her teasing tone. “There’s not a speed boat on the property, I’m sorry to say. We do have a few small motor boats, but we don’t use them much. We keep the noise and stress on the fish and other wildlife to a minimum.”
“You’re telling me you use rowboats so you don’t upset the wildlife but you have a helicopter buzzing in and out of here all day?”
“Got me there. Though, usually there’s not quite so much use of the helicopter.”
“Thanks, by the way, for sending my cat and getting me all that stuff. I kind of don’t know what to say. It’s so generous, I—”
“Don’t say anything. I was happy to do it, and it was no trouble.”
He held out his hand to help her into the boat and when she touched him, he got the same jolt of electricity he’d gotten in his office that morning. Part of him was excited by the repetition, another part warned him that too much attraction could be dangerous.
Jada hardly used his assistance, stepping into the boat with the balance of an old pro. He followed suit, untied from the dock and began rowing them toward a favored fishing spot on the other side of the lake.
Jada sat ladylike and demure on the wooden bench in the boat’s aft. Ian sat in the fore and pulled at the oars, trying not to stare at the lovely woman.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” she said, looking past him toward the far shore. “My parents would go crazy for it.”
“Your parents enjoy the outdoors?”
“We were always camping when I was growing up. When my parents retired, they sold their house, bought a jalopy RV with some of the funds, and headed out to see the country. Basically, they’re full-time campers now.”
“So that’s why you’re an experienced fisher-woman who’s at ease in a rowboat.”
“Yep.”
Ian worke
d the oars gently, in no hurry to get anywhere, content to amble for a change, instead of rushing, his usual way.
“I don’t see any other houses along the shoreline.” She squinted off into the distance.
“No, the lake and all the surrounding property is mine.”
“Wow. Mr. Forest said your grandfather left all this to you.”
“That’s right, most of it. There were a few tracts of lakeside property he still hadn’t been able to purchase before he passed away. I’ve since bought the last ones.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the house. “I can’t believe you call that a cabin. Is that rich folk speak, or what?”
He barked a short laugh. “No. Though I kind of wish it was now. Actually, it’s part of the history of the property.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I don’t want to bore you with old family stories.”