As for anything more meaningful—well, he hadn't been willing to risk that. From his experience, loving someone was just too painful. He doubted that B.J. would understand, despite the uncanny insight she sometimes displayed about him.
Because he had no intention of being the one who broke her vulnerable, trusting heart, he abruptly stood and began to pace restlessly around the shelter, watching the water for any sign of Bernard. It wasn't dark yet, but the shadows were definitely growing longer and deeper. Would Drake actually go as far as leaving them here overnight to make his point?
Oh, yeah. And they should probably consider themselves fortunate if that was the extent of the lesson.
Still sitting in the lounge chair, B.J. watched Daniel openly as he prowled through the shelter like a caged cat. Several times he checked his watch and once he pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. His low growl of frustration told her that he wasn't getting a signal.
When he seemed to become too confined by the stone floor, he stepped down onto the sand and began to pace the beach, sidestepping the rock-lined fire pit off to one side of the pavilion.
The more time she spent with him, the more he confused her. At one moment he seemed so familiar to her, so much like the Daniel she had known before. And then, almost at the blink of an eye, he changed, becoming an enigmatic stranger.
A stranger who claimed to be attracted to her.
She tried to observe him objectively. He stood framed against the deepening blue sky, his thick, black hair rumpled around his face. His white shirt, which contrasted so appealingly with his brown skin, was plastered to his chest by the stiff breeze from the ocean.
Studying the ridges of bone and muscle outlined by the thin fabric, she felt her
pulse rate increase. So much for objectivity.
She had never denied to herself that she was attracted to him. From the moment she'd seen him standing on the staircase at the farmhouse—hell, from the time she'd been fourteen years old—his effect on her had been powerful.
She found it hard to believe he could feel the same way about her. And yet she hadn't forgotten the heat generated by the kisses that had passed between them. It hadn't all been an act, on either of their parts.
As improbable as it seemed, there was a bond between them. One that had been formed a long time ago. The question now was, what were they going to do about it?
She doubted that he was interested in—or was used to—anything more than a brief fling. Scratching an itch. Satisfying his curiosity. Some other cliché that translated to no-strings sex.
And really what more could she expect? She certainly had no intention of playing Ingrid to his Drake. Waiting patiently for his attention, content to enjoy his money without questioning where it came from. No way.
The sky was growing darker, and it was now quite dim within the shadow of the pavilion. Bernard was definitely taking his time coming back for them. She was going to have to hurry now to shower and change before Ingrid's show.
Another fifteen minutes of silence passed before Daniel turned on the beach and headed back toward her. Something in his expression brought her to her feet. “What?”
“I think you should be prepared for the possibility that we'll be spending the night here.”
His voice was steady and uninflected, but she didn't for a moment suspect that he was teasing. He was completely serious.
“Should I be worried?” she asked, trying to speak as matter-of-factly as he had.
“No. We'll be safe here. And I'm sure Bernard will show up early tomorrow with an elaborate story about how we were 'accidentally' stranded here.”
“Do you have any idea why we're being, um, accidentally stranded here?”
He nodded grimly. “It's a message, of course. I haven't been cooperating with Drake today, and he's giving me a little illustration of how easily he could make us disappear.”
“You aren't cooperating?”
She had tried to disguise her sudden surge of hope, but Daniel must have caught it. He shook his head. “I'm not pulling out of the deal. I'm just jerking him around to get a better cut for myself—and he knows it.”
Disappointed, she asked, “So this is his way of retaliating?”
He glanced at his watch and then at the setting sun. “I believe it is. I had a bad feeling about this picnic from the beginning.”
“Now you tell me.”
“I'm sorry, B.J. I didn't really think he'd pull a stunt like this with you involved. But I'm sure he figures that bringing you into it makes his warning even more ominous for me.”
“Men and their posturing,” she grumbled with a scowl.