Always Valentine's Day. Kristin Hardy
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been feeling flared into hunger. Intellectually, she knew that whatever it was she yearned for couldn’t come from another person, any more than a quartet of wives had done it for her father. But she wanted Christopher Trask, oh, she wanted him.
Behind them, the doors opened and a chattering group of people walked out. “Whoops,” someone said loudly, “looks like we’re interrupting.”
It had her stepping back, her eyes flying open only to leave her feeling that she was still in a dream. “Well,” she said blankly.
“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘wow.’”
Larkin shook her head to get her mind working again. “I should…”
“Have a drink with me,” he supplied.
Forget about the drink, she just wanted him. But she had obligations. “It’s the first night. I haven’t seen my father in forever. I need to go back in.”
Christopher nodded and touched his hand lightly to the small of her back as they started toward the doors. “Later, then.”
Just a flick of a glance from him was all it took to start the pull again, but she couldn’t just disappear on Carter. She wasn’t twenty years old and here to find a guy to hook up with.
But what a guy.
She moved a little bit away from him as they walked through the doors to the dining room, but when she glanced toward her table, she stopped.
“What?”
“My father’s gone.”
“You sure you’ve got the right table? It’s a big dining room.”
“Of course it’s the right table. Over by the window, beyond the planter.”
Christopher looked where she gestured and raised his eyebrows. “You were gone a long time. Maybe he had to go see a man about a dog.”
“I suppose,” she said, and hesitated. “Let me see how dinner goes. Maybe we can have that drink after all.”
“Better yet, come to our table.”
“But my fath—”
“At least until he comes back. You can protect me from the nieces and nephews. Show off some of your American Gladiators chops.” He steered them that way before she could protest further.
She shouldn’t have been even remotely surprised that he walked up to the family at the big table. Up close, the sense of fun and pleasure shimmered around them. Although they were finishing up dessert and coffee, nearly everyone in the Trask family appeared to be more interested in talking and laughing than in food. A blond beachboy type held a woman on his lap—girlfriend or wife, judging by the kiss he planted on her hair. A pair of men with enough similarity in their dark good looks to make them brothers held an energetic debate about baseball and someone named Papi. Sophia was absorbed in a fast, complicated version of patty-cake with a tow-headed little boy who was the spitting image of the delicate-looking white blonde next to her, who in turn laughed with a mischievous-looking woman with a pixie’s cap of brunette curls. It was a chaotic, all-ages blend of people thoroughly enjoying being together.
“Hi, Larkin!” Sophia broke off her hand-slapping to wave.
“Hey, guys,” Christopher said to them all. “I brought a stowaway for dessert. This is Larkin. Let’s see, Larkin, this is my sister Lainie and her husband J.J.—” He pointed to the beach boy. “You know Sophia, and she’s playing with Kelsey, who’s the son of Hadley, there, and my cousin Gabe.” One of the dark-haired men raised his hand. “The guy next to him is my other cousin Jacob, and his wife Celie’s the one talking to Hadley, and—”
“Stop, Christopher,” protested Celie, the brunette pixie. “You’ve got her head spinning. Just let the poor thing sit.” A hint of a French accent colored her words.
“So where’s Aunt Molly?” Christopher asked, standing near Larkin.
“She went to the ladies’ room. A while ago, now that I think about it. She should be back soon.”
“In fact, she’s here now,” said an amused voice.
Larkin turned, and found herself startled into silence. There was no doubt where the Trask boys had gotten their good looks. Molly Trask’s face held a quiet loveliness, enough to have attracted an escort, Larkin saw. She extended her hand. “I’m Larkin.”
“The one who caught Sophia? I’m so pleased to meet you, Larkin,” Molly said warmly. “I’m Molly Trask. And this is—”
“My father—”
“Carter Hayes,” Christopher said simultaneously.
“What?” Larkin whipped her head around to stare at him.
“What are you doing over here?” Carter asked.
“You weren’t at the table. I came over with—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“This is Larkin, my daughter,” Carter told Molly.
“We’re going to need a bigger table,” Gabe said.
There was an after-dinner quiet to the decks as they all walked back to their rooms. The group of them had lingered over coffee and liqueur until the children had started yawning, worn out by the excitement of the day. Now Jacob carried his youngest son while Celie and Hadley shepherded the rest.
“We’ll be leaving at nine tomorrow morning for the glacier flight,” Carter said to everyone as they stepped out of the elevator. “We’ve got four open seats, so whoever wants to come is welcome.”
Christopher wasn’t surprised that Carter and Larkin had rooms on the luxury deck. Carter probably could have booked every suite on the ship with his pocket change alone. He walked along with Molly now, to escort her to her room on the portside hallway. Judging by the weather eye Jacob gave him as the rest of the family followed, that was all he was going to do.
“I guess we’re on our own,” Christopher said to Larkin as they stood at the entrance to the starboard hallway. “I take it you guys are down here?”
“I am. Carter’s on the other hall. We only got our reservations a few weeks ago. We had to take what they had.”
He nodded. “It’s still early. How about that drink?”
“I don’t think so.”
There was a kind of tension gathered about her. It was different than the restless curiosity he’d sensed on the fantail. It hadn’t come from the kiss, that much he was sure of. He knew when he held a willing woman in his arms. Somewhere around the time Carter had shown up, though, it had started to simmer. Christopher found himself subtly on edge. Something was going on with her, and he wasn’t the type of man to just let it go.
“It’s a big ship. We don’t have to go to a bar. There are other things to do, the casino, the piano lounge, the show. What do you think?”
“You want to know what I think?” Larkin asked coolly. “I think it’s very strange that a farmer from Vermont would recognize a man like Carter Hayes.” She turned down the hallway toward her room.
Christopher blinked and followed. “It shouldn’t be all that surprising. He’s a prominent guy.”
“Only in some circles.” They moved aside for an older couple to pass. “Carter lives pretty quietly. He doesn’t show up in the news. It’s not like he’s Malcolm Forbes or Warren Buffett.”
“I think you underestimate him.”
“Apparently, I underestimate farmers in Vermont,” Larkin returned. “Here I figured you spent your time talking about the price of grain, not futures traders. Who knew?”
“We do talk about the price of grain. And at my old job, we talked about futures traders like Carter.”