LEAD ME ON Julie Ortolon (mind reading books .TXT) 📖

of world traveling because they packed small and could be washed in a sink and dried overnight. They came in two colors, solid white and solid black. Naturally Scott’s were black. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at this. He even wears black boxers.”

“Black is his favorite color for clothes.” Chloe appeared in the doorway. “So he doesn’t have to make decisions when he’s getting dressed.”

“Yes, I know.” She realized how personal that sounded. “I mean—I noticed. I just didn’t realize he carried it through to his underwear.”

“Sad, isn’t it?” Chloe clucked her tongue. “Poor Uncle Scott. Heaven forbid he should get up in the morning and have to decide what color boxers to put on. He’d probably have a coronary.”

An idea flickered to life in Alli’s mind. A wicked, devious ... tempting idea. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?” Chloe asked.

“Nothing. I just had a silly thought. But no, it’s too childish. I couldn’t possibly ...”

“Couldn’t possibly what?”

She looked at Chloe, trying to suppress a smile. “Play a practical joke on Scott.”

“What? Tell me.”

“Okay. I’m not saying we should do it, but here’s my idea...”

Chapter 17

Scott walked Paige down the path to the dock when they spotted the tour boat returning. “Thanks again for all your help.”

“It was my pleasure,” she assured him as they reached the pier. Shading her eyes, she waved at her husband as he steered the large pontoon toward them. “Not many people are willing to listen to me talk about boats for hours on end. I just wish I could have helped you more with underwater salvage techniques.”

“Well, there’s always the library.”

“Hey, I have an idea. Bobby has a friend, Jackie Taylor, in Corpus Christi whose father was a treasure hunter. The father spent years going after Lafitte’s treasure and even named her Jackie, after Jack Kingsley.”

“Oh really?” Scott raised a brow in interest.

“Jackie has sworn off treasure hunting and runs a charter boat now, a fabulous old Baltimore schooner, but I bet she could answer your questions.”

“Hey, sweetheart!” the boat driver called as he cut the engine. The pontoon bumped gently against the pier, sending waves to slosh against the pilings.

“Hey, yourself.” Paige’s whole face lit up as the driver tossed her a mooring line. For a moment the two of them beamed at each other, while Scott did a bit of staring himself. After spending the afternoon with Paige, he’d expected her husband to be cultured and refined. The man smiling at her from the platform of the pontoon looked like he could wrestle alligators with one arm, while swilling beer with the other. Thick black hair curled around the edges of his battered captain’s cap and the sleeves of his white shirt stretched taut around massive biceps, while the front hung open to reveal a hairy chest.

“Bobby, this is Scott Lawrence,” Paige said, holding the boat in place with the ease of someone familiar with the task.

“Pleased to meet ya.” The man leaned over the rail and offered a massive paw. Suppressing the writer’s instinct to protect his hands at all costs, Scott surrendered to the crushing handshake, then flexed his fingers in a subtle check for broken bones. Everything still worked.

“Honey, do you have a phone number for Jackie Taylor?” Paige asked.

“I have it somewhere, why?” After Paige explained, he ducked into the cabin at the back of the boat and came out with a wrinkled and stained brochure. “Here you go.” He handed it to Scott. “I’m not sure how willing she’ll be to talk to you about her father’s treasure hunts, though. It’s kind of a sore subject with her.”

“Well, it never hurts to ask.” Scott glanced at the brochure—which pictured a majestic old ship with billowing white sails on the front—before he slipped the pamphlet into his pocket.

“You ready to shove off?” Bobby asked his wife. When she said yes, he took a seat behind the wheel and the engine came to life with a puff of blue exhaust.

“Let me know if you have any more questions,” Paige said as she stepped nimbly onboard.

“I will.” He waved as the pontoon boat pulled away from the pier and headed across the sparkling water to the mouth of the cove. Only then did he realize how far the sun had dipped in the sky. He and Paige had literally talked the afternoon away. She’d fascinated him, though, with her knowledge of boats, from old sailing ships to the stealth boats used by modern-day pirates and drug smugglers. Amazing information.

With his mind still sorting through what he could use, he started back for the inn. As he reached the end of the pier, he saw the jeep that belonged to the St. Claires heading up the drive with Allison at the wheel. She’d breezed downstairs earlier with Chloe and said the two of them were heading into town on an errand. The mischief in her eyes had made him wonder what sort of errand, but he hadn’t asked. After the last few days, he didn’t dare ask her anything for fear of what might come out of her mouth. Whoever would have guessed someone who looked as shy as Allison could have such a wicked way with words?

God, she was killing him. And she knew it. Just that morning at breakfast, she’d leaned over his shoulder to heat up his coffee by topping off the cup. With her lips close to his ear, she’d dropped her voice to a seductive purr and asked if there was anything else she could heat up for him. He’d let a groan slip, which had made her laugh.

Not up to facing her right then, he turned and started walking along the beach toward the trail that circled the island. Maybe a walk would give him the time he needed to decide how to handle Allison.

He’d never been so drawn to a woman before, or so intrigued, which made it imperative that he keep the situation under firm control. Unfortunately,