Bachelor Unclaimed Page 6

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out her business card and looked at it. Plain, definitely not like her. There was nothing plain about Ainsley St. James at all. As far as he was concerned, she had looked just as hot today as she had that night. And so damn beautiful.

  Suddenly a thought came into his mind and placing down his glass, he glanced over at Charley. “Need report on Ainsley St. James.”

  He heard the beeps and watched as lights on the board began flashing, which meant Charley was going furiously through data stored in his memory bank wired to the Google website. That was another bright idea of York’s to aid with the research Winston did from time to time.

  Charley interrupted his thoughts to ask, “Male or female?”

  Winston raised his brow. There was a male? Were they related? Father and daughter perhaps? Curiosity had him saying, “Male.”

  “Male. Ainsley St. James. Born 1843 and died 1903. Founded Claxton, New Jersey. First mayor in 1870. Married Edna Boyd. Sons Edgar and Harry.”

  He’d heard enough. “Female.”

  “Female. Ainsley St. James. Age twenty-six. Former employer—The New York Times. Candidate for mayor of Claxton, New Jersey. Lost.”

  He sat up straight. Ainsley had a stint in politics? “When?”

  “Repeat command. Failed communication.”

  He had to remember he wasn’t talking to a human. “When did she lose the election?”

  “Lost election in November. Two months ago.”

  Winston took a swallow of his drink and sat back in his chair. “Print report.” This he had to read. “Good job, Charley. You keep it up and I’ll hook you up with Siri.”

  Charley made a noise.

  Winston chuckled. Seriously? Was that a grunt he heard? He wouldn’t be surprised. At the time York had been creating Charley, he had been antifemale and had probably wired up Charley the same way. Personally, Winston liked hearing Siri’s voice whenever he pulled out his iPhone.

  He stood. He had dolphins to feed and pregnant turtles to track. The report on Ainsley would be there to read before he went to bed. Right now he wanted to put her out of his mind just like it seemed she had put him out of hers.

  * * *

  Ainsley entered her room at the resort and angrily threw down her purse on the first table she came to. She was fuming and the more she thought about Winston’s proposition, the steamier she got. The nerve of the man!

  Pushing open the French doors, she walked through them to stand on the balcony. She needed a breath of fresh air. It was a beautiful day but thanks to Winston whatever-his-name, she was in an ugly mood. The only way he would let her see Dr. Chambers was if they spent a day and night together? Uninterrupted? And what if after all of that Chambers still refused the interview? Winston would have gotten what he wanted and she would be left out to dry. Did she have the word fool tattooed on her forehead?

  She cringed when her phone rang, hoping it wasn’t Tessa or, even worse, Bobby. He’d already called her that morning to verify she would be making a trip to Barrett Shores to try and meet with Dr. Chambers. She hoped he wasn’t calling back to find out how it went.

  Walking into the living room, she pulled the phone out her purse, checked caller ID and cringed. It was Bobby. She started to ignore the call but figured he would only call back so she might as well talk to him now and get it over with.

  She clicked on the phone. “Bobby?”

  “You got good news for me, St. James?”

  “Depends on how you look at it,” she said, trying to make light of his question.

  “Meaning?”

  “Barrett Shores is private property. I did make it across the most god-awful bridge you could possibly imagine. You would not believe how rickety it looked. Like it was built in the early 1900s. It was made of wood and—”

  “You’re rambling. Did you or did you not get Chambers to agree to an interview?”

  She paused, nibbled on her bottom lip a minute and then said, “Although I made it to Barrett Shores, I didn’t get to see Chambers. I couldn’t get past his bodyguard.”

  “His bodyguard? Come on, St. James. Surely you’re not going to let one little bodyguard stop you from seeing an old man.”

  Ainsley rolled her eyes. “He’s not exactly little, Bobby. In fact he’s pretty big.” Well-built, she thought to herself. She of all people should know since she had licked every inch of that well-built body one night.

  “Then come up with a plan. I’ve already told Jones you’re covering the story.”

  “What! Why did you do something like that?” Edwin Jones was Bobby’s boss, the managing editor.

  “Because I assumed you would be. Besides, I needed a bargaining chip when I asked him for your old job back. At first he bucked the idea, because like I said, your replacement has connections. But he’s seen the reviews as well and agrees that something needs to be done. Getting a story on Chambers will give him the leverage he needs to go to Wendell to bring you back on.”

  Ainsley felt her gut tightening. Wendell was Jones’s boss, the editor-in-chief. Jeez. Bobby had assumed she had the interview in the bag and that was so far from the truth it wasn’t funny. She needed time to think, plan and execute.

  “St. James?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Yes?”

  “Is there something I need to worry about? You will get the scoop from Chambers, right? This is big news. They’ve already reserved a spot for Valentine’s weekend. Our inside source says the FDA will approve Chambers’s drug, so once he decides which pharmaceutical company he plans to marry, it will be front-page news and we want to have the scoop.”

  She drew in a deep breath, knowing now was the time to level with Bobby. But knew she could not do that. Too much was at stake and she had to come up with a plan.

  “No, there isn’t anything you need to worry about. I’ll check in with you in a few days. Bye, Bobby.” She quickly hung up the phone before he could question her about anything.

  Placing the phone on the table, Ainsley moved back to the patio and stood at the rails and looked out at the ocean. The bottom line was that she had to come up with a plan.

  * * *

  The next day Winston leaned on the top railing of the huge tank that contained his sea horses. He watched them swim as they would in the ocean, upright, tails up, heads down. He’d always been fascinated by sea creatures so his family hadn’t been surprised when he’d decided to pursue a career in marine biology. He’d decided on the University of Miami; after that he got both his grad and doctorate degrees from Cornell University.

  When his parents had made the decision to move farther south to be close to his maternal grandparents, they’d left Barrett Shores to him with their blessings. He’d seized the perfect opportunity to resign from a job at a pharmaceutical company whose regulations, guidelines and policies were impeding all the things he felt he could accomplish. With his parents’ approval, he had converted a part of his home into a sanctuary to further his studies on marine life.

  Obviously his alias was no longer deterring those determined to find out his identity. At least for now Ainsley thought Winston and Chambers were different men. But her appearance yesterday meant it was just a matter of time before others showed up wanting the same thing she did—a story. He couldn’t help but wonder who or what had tipped her off when he’d gone to great pains to build his false identity. In all honestly, it really didn’t matter since he had no intention of granting her or anyone else an interview.

  Before going to bed last night, he had read Charley’s report on her and had found it rather interesting. For some reason she had made the decision to run for mayor of the town where she’d grown up. Given her great-great-great-grandfather founded the town and she was a hometown girl, she should have been a shoo-in and probably assumed that she was. Her rival, a relative newcomer to town, had obviously won over the good people and had even gone so far as to run a rather nasty campaign against her. The man claimed Ainsley had been a stripper
at some New York nightclub while in college. Ainsley had denied the allegations and said she’d only been a dancer at the club. But in the small town a lot of the good people evidently thought a paid dancer was just as bad as a stripper and she had lost the election. Then it seemed her father had gotten hospitalized due to a heart attack the day after the election. Reports had speculated that the negative campaign against his daughter had been too much for the old man.

  From all accounts, it seemed Ainsley wanted to return to the job at The New York Times that she had resigned from and figured he would be her first interview.

  Like hell he would! No matter how good she’d been in bed—and she had been off the charts—nothing would make him change his mind.

  What about that offer you made to her? About giving you a day and a night?

  His thoughts burned deep in his mind. He’d only thrown that out there because he’d known she would refuse to do such a thing. And she had.

  But what if she had agreed?

  She hadn’t and that was that. When they’d said their goodbyes yesterday, they’d both known they were final. Neither of them intended to budge.

  A few moments later he had washed up and was in the kitchen about to prepare lunch when Charley’s security buzzer went off. “Warning! Warning! Intruder!”

  Winston rubbed his hand down his face. For crying out loud, not another reporter. That was all he needed. “Scan perimeters, Charley.”

  “Vehicle left parked. South meadows. Oceanside.”

  That meant the person was on foot. Did the person actually assume they could scale the fence and not be seen? “Find and scan.”

  “Female. Same from twenty-four hours ago.”

  Winston frowned. Ainsley was back? “You sure?”

  “Charley always sure.”

  Winston’s frown deepened. Arrogant machine.

  “Intruder scaling flagpole.”

  She was scaling the flagpole? This he had to see. “Display on monitor.”

  The screen flickered to life and within seconds he could see a curvy, feminine figure using her slender, lithe body to climb the flagpole. Damn. He felt his body get hard just watching her. She was more acrobatic than he’d imagined or remembered. She had worked that body of hers that night, but now he realized she had skills he hadn’t even tapped into. Now he was beginning to wonder if perhaps she had been a stripper at one time like her mayoral opponent had claimed. Dressed in a black full-body leotard, she looked good with her legs wrapped around that pole, and a part of him wished they were wrapped around him instead.

  He figured he had seen enough when she finally jumped down on other side of the fence and grabbed the duffel bag she’d tossed over earlier. On the other hand, he thought, maybe he hadn’t seen enough when she started to strip off her leotard, down to her bra and panties.

  “Notify authorities?” Charley barked out.

  Winston’s pulse rate escalated and heat surged through him. He found it hard to look away when she opened the duffel bag and pulled out a blouse and a pair of jeans and slid her curvaceous body into both.

  “Notify authorities?” Charley asked again.

  He wiped sweat from his brow. “No need,” he said, pushing away from the kitchen counter. “She’s about to be greeted by a welcome party of one.”

  “Repeat command. Didn’t understand. Failed communication.”

  “No authorities.” A smile touched his lips as he strode quickly to the nearest door.

  * * *

  Tucking her shirt into her jeans, Ainsley reached down to zip her duffel bag. Hopefully by the time she was detected she would have made her way to—

  Her breath caught at the same time her heart leaped. She looked down at the hand clutching hers, and then raised her gaze to stare into the dark penetrating eyes she was getting to know so well. Where on earth had he come from?

  “Back so soon? I was left with the impression after our conversation yesterday that you’d refused my offer. Glad to know you’ve reconsidered,” he said.

  “I have not!” she snapped, snatching her hand from his hold.

  “Then you have five seconds to start telling me why you’ve trespassed on Barrett Shores again, or else I’m calling the police. You saw the sign at the bridge. You aren’t welcome unless you’re invited.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “How about letting Dr. Chambers speak for himself?”

  “No.”

  “You’re his bodyguard. Are you saying you’re his spokesman, as well?”

  He folded his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Now I’ll be glad to escort you back to your car.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Yes, you are. I would have come sooner to save you all the trouble, but I rather enjoyed watching you on that pole.”

  Winston smiled at the daggered looks she threw him. “I told you this place is secured. You should have known you would be seen.” He paused and added, “And you handled that pole rather nicely, by the way. Had I known you had those skills, I would have ordered up a pole to my suite before you ran off that morning. There’s nothing better than watching a sexy acrobatic woman in motion.”

  “Go to hell.”

  Suddenly, there was a loud roar of thunder. Winston tore his gaze away from Ainsley to stare up at the sky over the ocean. Damn. They were about to get one of those unexpected thunderstorms the area was known for this time of year. That meant the water under the bridge would be rising and it wouldn’t be safe to cross it unless he got her to leave now.

  He glanced back at her. Her attention had also been drawn to the ocean and the sky above it, taking in how dark it had suddenly gotten. “The weatherman said no chance of rain,” she said accusingly, as if he had something to do with the weather.

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re a tourist. They’re supposed to sell you on beautiful sunny days in January and not the ugly massive thundershowers we have on occasion.”

  He looked up at the sky again and shook his head. “Come on, you need to leave now so you can make it.”

  Her brows met in the middle of her forehead. “Make it where?”

  “Back to Hilton Head. Once it starts raining the water rises under the bridge. Leaving at that point is dangerous and you’ll be stuck here for a while.”

  Too late he realized he’d made a mistake in telling her that. He reached out to grab her and she darted out of his way and ran in the direction of the house, calling out over her shoulder, “Catch me if you can.”

  Growling with anger deep within his gut, he took off after her. She raced around in a lot of crazy circles but he was there, not too far away and right on her tail. And it was a tail worth being on, he thought when he lunged for her, forcing them both to fall in the sand. With a few quick moves he had her flat on her back with him over her.

  “Get off me!”

  “Not until I’m ready,” he said staring down at her. For the umpteenth time he had to ask himself why she had to be a reporter. And one who was so damn beautiful.

  “Get off me, Winston. I have sand all in my hair.”

  He chuckled. “I have news for you, there’s sand all over you. That’s what you get for running and trying to stall.”

  “Did it work?”

  He frowned down at her. “No, you still have time to leave since it hasn’t started raining yet.”

  And then, as if on cue, the entire sky fell open and huge raindrops pelted them. She laughed out loud as if pleased with the downpour. “It seems someone up there likes me, Winston.”

  He glared down at her and saw how the rain was washing her face at the same time it was pounding hard in his back. He stood and reached for her hand. “Come on. Hurry. Lightning this close to the ocean isn’t a joke. We need to get up to the house.”

  She all but jumped for joy. “Yes, we need to get up to the house.”

  He held firm to her hand as they sprinted across the beach. When they finally reached the patio he pulle
d her under the rooftop, away from the pouring rain. “There’s a shower house around the corner. We need to wash off all this sand before going inside.”

  Ainsley allowed herself to be led around the corner of the patio and she saw the enclosed shower he was talking about. It was bigger than her entire bathroom at home.

  “You can use the shower first.” Winston’s voice interrupted her thoughts by saying, “Strip down. There’re plenty of towels, shampoo, conditioner and everything you might need on that top shelf. There’re also a few robes hanging up in there against the wall. When you’re done, I’ll take you inside for you to wash and dry your clothes.”

  She glanced inside the shower house and then glanced back at him suspiciously. “And just what are you going to be doing while I’m taking a shower?”

  He smiled. “Enjoy looking at the rain while I wait my turn. Unless it’s okay with you if we both saved time and water by showering together?”

  Ainsley frowned thinking she could actually see the heat glaze his eyes from such a prospect. “No, it’s not okay, so enjoy the rain and wait your turn.”

  She was about to open the door and step inside when she turned back to him. “I know your first name is Winston. What’s your last name?”

  He looked at her with deep consideration before saying, “Coltrane.”

  She lifted an arched brow. “Winston Coltrane?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled, nodded. “I like it.” She then stepped inside the shower house and closed the door behind her.

  Winston drew in a deep breath wondering if she was going to like the fact his alias was R. J. Chambers. Probably not, and he intended to keep that information from her as long as he could.

  Chapter 8

  Ainsley threw back her head and laughed as the water poured over her hair, face and all down her body. She wondered what kind of shampoo and body wash she was using. Whatever it was, it smelled good and left her hair feeling squeaky-clean.