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disapproval. But the money had been his, from the trust fund that had come into his control when he’d turned twenty-five. And it had paid off. Matt had not only succeeded, he’d already paid back Brandon’s investment with interest.
    “Do you miss the competition?”
    Brandon shook his head. “No. It was never that serious for me. I guess my family would tell you I’m the same about many things in my life. I enjoy sailing too, even competed in a couple of international races, but it wasn’t my life. What about you? What do you enjoy?”
    Lucy laughed. “I’ve sailed. I grew up along the Maryland shore. I worked a couple of summers at a resort where I taught people how to sail little skiffs. I’ve never been on anything big.”
    He caught her hand in his, the energy sizzling between them again. “Maybe I could take you out some time.”
    She slipped her hand from his, and smoothed her hair from her face. “Maybe.”
    “What else do you enjoy?”
    “I’m a potter. I’ve got a small studio I work in from home.”
    “So is that what you do? You’re an artist?” He could now understand the strength in her hands if she spent a good part of her day manipulating clay.
    She shrugged. “It’s a hobby, I guess. It’s not like I’ve earned any real money from it. What about you? I know you ski. I know you wear suits and have breakfast meetings.”
    Brandon shifted. “I work for my father’s company. We’re in communications.” It wasn’t a lie. And unless she examined National News in great detail, she would never notice the Barrett Newspapers, Inc. at the bottom of the logo. He didn’t get the feeling she’d tied the name Barrett to communications, but something sure as hell was bothering her. She’d set her napkin aside and pasted a cool, polite smile on her face.
    “You must be busy. Look, I should get going. Thanks for the ski lesson and the lunch.”
    She stood and Brandon followed suit. “That sounds a whole lot like a goodbye.”
    She evaded his eyes. “You have plans. I have plans.” She shrugged.
    “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?” He saw her hesitation. “Friends, Lucy. I won’t deny I’m attracted to you, but if you’re not… I get that, okay? No pressure. Just two people on vacation trying to enjoy some time together.”
    “All right.”
    He grinned. “Put on some dancing shoes. There’s a great dinner and dance club. Quiet. Plenty of jazz.”
    He held her jacket for her while she slipped it on. The flowery scent of her hair and skin teased his nostrils. His hands lingered for an instant while he fought the urge to lift her hair to the side so he could nuzzle her neck. He only hoped his ski pants would hide the hard-on he now had. So simple, yet the scent of her was enough to turn him on. She glanced over her shoulder at him with those expressive eyes of hers.
    “What time?”
    “Seven.” Brandon couldn’t resist. He stroked a finger along her cheek. “I’ll see you this evening.”
    * * * *
    Back and forth. Lucy hoped the repetition of her swimming workout would make her forget how much she wanted to touch Brandon, and how little she trusted those feelings. He worked in his father’s business. It reminded her too much of all those years ago, of the one man who had broken through her wariness. Edward had been everything she’d thought she wanted. He had known right from the start what she was. In fact, he had seen her dancing. That was how they’d met, but he had been different from the other men. There hadn’t been any catcalls or suggestive remarks. Instead, he’d shown up several nights in a row. After the fourth night, he had invited her out for a late dinner. From there, it had turned into flowers, dinner dates, picnics in the park. Eventually it led to bed. She’d given him her innocence, and he’d given her an education.
    Lucy executed a perfect flip-turn and continued to swim, her stroke fluid and efficient. She had gone out for the swim team at her