Nathan's Child by Anne McAllister

deny that Nathan was a damned attractive man. It was the fact that he didn’t love her and had left her that she found un attractive! “But I’m not attracted to him.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œI’m not!”
    â€œI understand.” Hugh nodded solemnly, though there was an unholy light in his eyes. He started to rake a hand through his hair, then looked at the grease on it and wipedit on his disreputable cutoffs instead. “I get it. You’ve finally become attracted to me. And about time.” His grin flashed. “Taste comes to Carin Campbell at last.”
    â€œDon’t you wish?” she teased.
    â€œDon’t I,” Hugh agreed with just enough seriousness to make her wonder as she sometimes did, if he was serious or not.
    As long as she’d known him, he’d had one girlfriend after another. None had been serious. None had lasted. The only single woman between eighteen and forty she knew he hadn’t dated was her. And not because he hadn’t asked. He had. She hadn’t been interested.
    â€œWe’ll be friends, Hugh,” she’d told him. “That will be better.”
    â€œSez you,” he’d complained.
    But they’d been friends for four years. Maybe she’d made a mistake asking him to have dinner tonight. She didn’t want to spoil that by changing things now.
    â€œYou’re a gorgeous guy, Hugh,” she began, “but—”
    He held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. If you’re asking me out to dinner, don’t start putting qualifications on it.”
    â€œNo. I just—”
    â€œDon’t, Carin,” he warned her, a rough edge to his voice. “What time do we have to be there?”
    â€œSeven. But if you’d rather not—I don’t expect—”
    â€œI’m looking forward to it,” he said firmly. “I’ll be interested to meet Lacey’s father.” The speculative look on his face was further cause for concern. But before Carin could say anything, he told her, “Right, seven it is, then. I’ll pick you up at quarter to.”
    â€œOk.” But as Carin started away from the boat dock, she still worried. She tended to think of Hugh as her pal, a carefree, devil-may-care guy, whom every woman on Pelican Cay lusted after—save her—and who wouldn’t be caught no matter what. Certainly that was the impression he was always at pains to give.
    His reputation, well known among the island’s fairer sex,was that he was a terrific playmate—and bedmate. But in his own words, he’d “never met a woman he didn’t like, nor one who made him think in terms of happily ever after.”
    But Carin also remembered that two years ago he’d taken her flying one afternoon, determined to show off his new toy—the seaplane that he had added to his fleet of charter vehicles. Carin had never taken off or landed on the water before. She’d loved it, had been eager to have him do it again and again.
    And while they were soaring through the wild blue yonder getting ready to make yet another approach, and the plane had banked and Carin had taken half a dozen shots out the window, exclaiming all the while how wonderful it was, Hugh had said, “You could do this all the time if you married me.”
    Carin had laughed. She’d rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, yes. Sure. Right.” Because, of course, he wasn’t serious. Hugh was never serious in matters of the heart.
    He’d laughed, too. He hadn’t pursued it. He’d never uttered the word marriage again. But every once in a while Carin had caught him looking at her intently, his expression always unreadable.
    It had made her wonder more than once if she’d been wrong.
    But then immediately she thought, surely not. Hugh McGillivray went through women like she went through tubes of cadmium blue. He was a tease, a charmer and her pal. He could