The Marriage Trap Read online

  Courtney gave him a hug. ‘You’re a pal.’

  But she still felt a bit guilty the next morning when she walked down towards the dock. Only the knowledge that she had done it for a higher good allowed her even to face Aidan Sawyer again.

  He was sitting on the end of the dock, staring upriver, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin in his palm. He did not look happy. She walked the length of the dock, debating whether she should make a noise and warn him or whether she should be quiet until she got to him. As it happened, her shadow fell across him, and he glanced over his shoulder. His expression was not welcoming. ‘You again?’

  She gave him a bright smile. ‘I see you got your engine fixed.’

  He scowled. ‘Which time?’

  ‘The last time I saw you it was all over the dock.’

  ‘Surely you couldn’t have failed to hear about the time after that one.’ He stood up slowly, towering over her. She glanced down to make sure she didn’t happen to be standing in a rope coil again. He saw where her eyes flickered and a grin was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Well, I did hear a rumour or two,’ she allowed.

  ‘I’ll bet you did.’ He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts and looked her up and down again. Two of the scientists had given her that same sort of appraising look, and Courtney hadn’t turned a hair. But whenever Aidan Sawyer looked at her, she turned to flame.

  'So, are you interested in a job?’ she asked him with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

  ‘I thought we’d been over all that.’

  ‘I thought you might’ve changed your mind.’

  He looked at her narrowly. ‘And why would I do that?’

  She shrugged lightly. ‘Finances, perhaps. I mean, since you didn’t get the expedition job… And you did say something about wanting a “few new parts” for the engine. Besides,’ she added, ‘I thought you’d rather have any job than none at all.’

  ‘You did, did you?’ His green eyes got even narrower. He looked at her long and hard, then his eyes moved slowly from her to his engine. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking.

  ‘Nice day, isn’t it?’ she commented inanely.

  He frowned at her. ‘Is it? A nice day for setting someone up, you mean?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back.

  ‘Odd how it was Aurelio who found those engine parts. I wouldn’t have guessed Raimundo would hide them near his place.’

  ‘Well, er, you never know, do you?’

  ‘No,’ he said with a grim smile. ‘You never do.’ He let out a long breath with an expletive in it somewhere. Then he said, ‘I am beginning to believe it’s possible that you’re not as innocent as you look.’

  She didn’t know whether to confirm or deny that. If ever there was a trick question…

  But she didn’t have to. He went right on. ‘You’re beginning to strike me as a damned determined lady, Miss Mary Courtney Perkins.’

  She drew herself up to her full five foot four inches. ‘I told you that.’

  ‘And I wouldn’t be surprised then if I never did get another commission as long as I keep refusing you.’

  She coloured fiercely. ‘Well, I don’t know how you can say that. I just—’

  He glowered at her. ‘Don’t tell me what you just. I don’t think I want to know. If I take you, you’d better keep up that determination, you understand?’

  A shaft of hope touched her heart. ‘I understand. Oh, absolutely.’

  ‘No bellyaching. No whining. No begging to come back. You take care of yourself.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘We find your parents. You do whatever it is you came for. We come back. All straightforward. Understood?’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘And you’ll leave my boat alone.’

  She tried to look offended. He wasn’t impressed.

  ‘I will most assuredly leave your boat alone, Mr. Sawyer. Does this mean I’ve hired you?’

  He scowled. ‘You’ve hired me.’ He turned and hopped lightly down into the boat, beginning to pull the tarp off something in the bow.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I won’t say you’re welcome, Miss Perkins. And I doubt you’ll be thanking me before we’re through. Just remember, this is what you want.’

  ‘It is,’ she said more stoutly than she felt.

  ‘Be ready at dawn. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble getting up that early.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’m quite used to it.’

  He gave her a black look. ‘I’ll bet.’

  Guiltily she turned and scurried back up the dock. But she couldn’t contain the spurt of satisfaction that bubbled up within her, not even when the last words she heard him say to Joao were, ‘I think she has more in common with Lucrezia Borgia than Little Bo-Peep.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Be careful what you pray for, since you will surely get it,’ her father always used to say. But Courtney, never having got the pony or the skates at Christmas, nor having ever been asked by Troy Williams to her high-school prom, nor having had her first book accepted by the first publisher to look at it, had never given that particular theological advice the respect it deserved.

  Until now.

  But as she piled her gear into Aidan Sawyer’s boat and watched him stow it away, she began to develop that respect. For if she had boxed Aidan into a corner and coerced him into taking her along, thereby getting what she wanted, she had got something else besides—she had got Aidan Sawyer.

  For at least two weeks, she and Aidan Sawyer would be a team. Just the two of them. Together. In a boat only twice as long as a bathtub and just about as wide.

  Two weeks with a man like Aidan Sawyer was a daunting prospect.

  If he had been the lawyer she had been dating at home, she wouldn’t have given it another thought. She and Clarke Battersby had sailed to Catalina and hadn’t got in each other’s way or on each other’s nerves once. They had never made love either because they respected each other too much.

  Somehow Courtney couldn’t see Aidan having that much respect.

  He and Clarke were at opposite ends of the spectrum of male behaviour. Clarke was all polish, control and clearly defined goals. Aidan, from what she could see—upper-class Boston accent notwithstanding—was rough, ready and probably had no idea of where his next meal was coming from. Nor did he seem to care. Chances were he preferred it that way. Another ‘lily of the field’? Hardly. A clump of crabgrass was more like it.

  ‘That it?’ Aidan finished stowing her gear in the boat and turned to give her the full benefit of his haunting green eyes.

  ‘That’s it.’ Courtney wished it had been the heat that was making her feel oddly breathless. But she was fairly sure it wasn’t. She tried to remember that he was the employee, she was the employer, and that she had coerced him into this.

  He slung his own duffel bag into the back of the boat and carefully set a gleaming rifle down beside it. The sight of it made Courtney shudder, but she was careful not to comment. She didn’t have to. He saw her expression and treated her to a disdainful one of his own. ‘Tool of the trade, Bo-Peep,’ he told her. ‘You ready?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let’s go, then.’

  She was prepared to decline if he offered her his hand to help her into the boat. He didn’t. He simply jerked his head towards the bow. ‘You sit there.’

  ‘Right.’ She stepped gamely in and settled herself on the narrow plank seat. Turning, she gave him what she hoped was an eager smile. ‘All set.’

  He grunted and yanked the starter rope on the small engine. Courtney held her breath, but apparently he had been able to get all those assorted screws and other gizmos back on properly, for the engine roared to life. The three onlookers on the dock cheered.

  ‘Be careful,’ Consuelo admonished, waving her dish towel.

  ‘Have fun,’ Aurelio called.
‘Boa viagem.’

  ‘Nao faze nada que eu nao faria,’ Joao called to Aidan.

  ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do?’ Courtney translated. She glanced over her shoulder at Aidan.

  ‘Fat chance,’ he said.

  They travelled quickly and silently downriver until the sun was high in the sky. The river itself broadened as they moved south-east, and the canopy of the jungle receded far enough to allow the midday sun to beat down on them mercilessly for a brief time. Then the clouds built up and it rained. Courtney remembered the pattern well. She had lived in this jungle for twelve years, until her parents had deemed her old enough to send her away to school. And one of the things she remembered best was that she had never been quite dry the whole time. She had thought it was a normal, if annoying, way to live until the first year she spent in California at a girls’ school where she had learned that dampness was not a way of life.

  The first time the skies opened up, they were just heading into rough water where the river narrowed and flowed faster. Courtney clamped her hat down tightly on her head, then gripped the gunwales of the boat to keep herself from being thrown in as they went shooting forward. The boat pitched and bucked. Gritting her teeth, she hung on for dear life. Then Aidan cut the boat across the rapids skilfully, avoiding the surge of the main channel, and all at once they were in a quiet eddy, the danger past. Courtney breathed again. She sighed and glanced back at Aidan.

  He grinned at her. It was a wicked grin, one that dared her to complain as the water that coursed down her cheeks and drenched her clothes, that dared her to utter one word about the danger they had just passed—the danger she had insisted he bring her into.

  Not in a million years, she thought stubbornly.

  ‘Suit you, duckie?’ he shouted over the torrents of rain that thundered down around them.

  ‘To a T,’ she shouted back and turned away from him.

  The next time the skies opened, they were in a wider channel, and Aidan aimed their boat towards a log lying half in the river and cut the engine. Courtney looked back at him, frowning. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. I want a swim.’

  ‘A swim?’

  ‘Sure. Why not? We’re soaking wet anyway.’ He didn’t wait for a reply. As he spoke, he was unbuttoning his shirt and casting it aside. Then he stripped off his trousers. She swallowed hard at the sight of hard-muscled bare thighs. He lifted his eyebrows at her, smirking. ‘Enjoying the view?’

  Steam was probably rising from her cheeks where the rain hit them. She jerked her gaze away abruptly and didn’t even see him dive into the water. She only felt the lurch of the boat. Turning back, she saw a pair of white briefs cast on top of the trousers he had discarded, and she felt a brief pang of regret that she hadn’t waited a few moments longer before she had averted her eyes. Then, embarrassed at the direction of her thoughts, she tried to remember the purpose of her trip. It wasn’t easy, especially once he surfaced several yards away, shook the hair out of his eyes and grinned at her.

  ‘Come on in. The water’s fine.’

  ‘No thanks.’

  The grin turned into a smirk again. ‘Don’t tell me you’re too shy.’

  ‘I won’t, then,’ she said stiffly. But if the truth were known, she was. Swimming naked with someone like Clarke wouldn’t have even fazed her, and she knew it. Not, of course, that Clarke would ever have suggested such a thing. But with Aidan Sawyer—forget it! He was too intimidatingly masculine!

  Still, she wished she dared. She felt as if she were being steamed alive while the rain came down. When it stopped things got even worse. Her clothes stuck to her. Her glasses steamed up. Her hair clung to her head. If she had had a pair of scissors handy, she would have hacked it off then and there. She wished they could get moving again. But that meant Aidan clambering naked out of the water… and that meant seeing him… Whoa, sweetie, she reminded herself. You don’t have to watch.

  But, heavens, she was tempted. The way he cut through the water like a seal made her all too aware of his natural male grace. And watching him arch and dive under, presenting her with a flash of muscular buttocks, tantalised her. She was breathing as if she had run a mile when he finally swam over to the boat and hoisted himself over the side.

  She averted her face, but not before she had seen all of him. He would have put Clarke Battersby to shame. Ducking her head, she pretended great interest in the flotsam and jetsam slipping down the river past them.

  ‘Pass me a towel,’ Aidan commanded.

  She did, lifting her eyes only as far as his knees. The view of dark hairs plastered against his firm legs made her want to raise her head higher. Stubbornly, she didn’t.

  Aidan sighed as he rubbed his body. ‘You’re crazy,’ he said conversationally. ‘You ought to swim.’

  Courtney allowed herself only a grunt in response. She saw him step into his briefs, then pull on his trousers, and heard him zip them up. At last she lifted her eyes. He was looking down at her with amusement on his face.

  ‘I suppose you think if you’re naked, I’ll ravish you.’

  She didn’t answer that at all.

  ‘I won’t,’ he said. ‘Not yet, anyway.’ And then, slipping on his shirt, he said, ‘Hand me a banana, will you?’ as if his earlier words had been no more than a figment of her imagination.

  Flustered, she handed him one, taking one herself. He took his without thanking her, peeled it and bit into it, disregarding the rain that had started up again and sluiced down his face. He was too busy staring at her, an undecipherable expression on his face.

  Finally he said, ‘You should have gone swimming. It wouldn’t have made any difference.’ A grin quirked the corner of his mouth.

  Courtney frowned, squinting at him, then took her glasses off and tried to dry them on her shirt-tails so that she could see what he was looking at so earnestly. One glance downwards was all it took. He was looking at her!

  He was staring right through her translucent safari shirt which had obviously not been designed to be worn in tropical rainstorms. Not in mixed company anyway. It was no secret now that she wasn’t wearing a bra today. The dusky aureoles of her breasts were only too visible. No wonder Aidan was staring. She blushed and ducked her head, rooting around in another of the packs for a vinyl poncho that would cover her.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Aidan said bluntly. ‘There’s nothing you’ve got I haven’t seen a hundred times before.’

  Courtney scowled. ‘I’m sure you’re very well versed in female charms, Mr. Sawyer.’

  ‘Bodies anyway,’ he agreed laconically, as he took another huge bite out of the banana. ‘But if you want to try out some charms on me, I’m willing.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath, Mr. Sawyer.’

  He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself, but it’ll be a long trip otherwise.’

  ‘This is a business arrangement,’ Courtney said firmly. ‘No more, no less.’

  She waited for him to dispute that. He didn’t. He just shook his head, finished off the banana, then reached for some of the dried meat that Consuelo had packed. ‘Want some?’ He held a bit out to her.

  She took it, popping it into her mouth. ‘What is it?’

  He grinned. ‘Snake.’

  She swallowed very slowly, taking care not to bat an eyelash. ‘I didn’t know you could dry snake meat,’ she said with every bit of aplomb she could muster.

  He burst out laughing. ‘You’re the most amazing woman.’

  She doubted that was a compliment. ‘Why?’ she asked cautiously.

  ‘Because… because nothing throws you! You can stare right through a naked man without batting an eye. You can just sit there getting soaked by a rainstorm, eating a banana as if you were at some high-class Paris cafe, and apparently you like snake!’

  ‘Don’t you?’ she asked with mock sincerity.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he conceded. He tilted his head. ‘Do you really like it?’ he asked after a moment.

  ‘It’s al
l right,’ she echoed. ‘But you told me no bellyaching. No complaining.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to listen. You didn’t listen to anything else I said.’

  ‘I’m glad I didn’t. I needed your help to find my parents.’

  He sighed and leaned back against the side of the boat, stretching his legs out in front of him. ‘They must be pretty special. Tell me about these parents of yours.’ He was looking at her with more magnanimity than she had seen from him so far. It made her nervous. An interested Aiden Sawyer might be more trouble than a hostile one. She found him more attractive than he guessed. And the last thing she wanted was a little jungle romance. She watched him finishing off the meat, and cross his legs at the ankle. One hand rested on the engine cover. His scruffy damp khakis hid the muscular thighs now, but Courtney could remember well exactly what they looked like. Taking a deep breath she tried to drag her mind back to her parents.

  ‘They are special people. Lovely people. Very devout. And very absent-minded, I fear. “Out of sight, out of mind” is their modus operandi.'

  ‘You mean they might not remember you?’

  ‘Oh, they’ll remember me. And they’ll be very glad to see me,’ she predicted. ‘But I shall be secondary to whatever else is going on in their lives.’ She looked down, trailing her fingers through the water.

  ‘Does that bother you?’ He looked at her intently.

  ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I prefer it that way. They run whatever they’re involved in. It’s better when it’s not me.’

  He gave her a wry, almost sympathetic grin. ‘The voice of experience.’

  ‘Yes.’ Endicott Perkins was definitely a father who knew best.

  ‘That why you ran away to the States?’ he asked her.

  She blinked, taken aback, momentarily bristling at the accusation. But she was also honest enough to admit its accuracy. ‘Yes, I guess it is.’ Her voice was purposely light. Then she turned the tables. ‘What about you? What are you running away from?’