Free Fire in the Wind by Alexandra Sellers

him.
    "Good morning, Mr. Conrad," said the pretty blond tour advisor in a shy voice, and Vanessa turned in time to catch the look of teenage adoration in the soft eyes. She smiled tolerantly at the girl, not realizing that the look in her own eyes had not, for that fleeting second, been so very different.
    "Good morning, Cathy, how's it going?" He smiled, and there was no trace of cynicism in the crooked grin when he looked at the girl, Vanessa saw enviously.
    "A bit slow," said Cathy in a tone that strove for business-like maturity, "but the season's just beginning, isn't it?"
    He was wearing blue jeans and a blue plaid shirt rolled up at the cuffs, and he looked attractive and unpretentious. He did not wear gold chains around his neck, Vanessa noted inconsequentially, as, at last and almost unwillingly, he turned to her.
    "How much time have you got?" he asked. It occurred to Vanessa that he was in two minds about wanting to take her anywhere.
    "I don't have to be back until two-thirty," she said, feeling that somehow she was courting danger. But if Jake didn't want to show her the sights he would have to say so. Something had happened to her since last night. She felt different with Jake this morning: she wanted to be with him.
    "Have you got a pair of tennis shoes with you?" he asked.
    In the middle of nodding yes, her cheeks suddenly flamed, and she felt the hot blood rush into her face until she knew she was blushing fiery red. Jake's attention, not unnaturally, was firmly caught, but Vanessa turned away quickly, muttering a stifled,
    "I'll get them. Wait here."
    She half walked, half ran to the elevators, one hand pressing her cheeks to try to cool them. She knew now what had happened between last night and this morning to change her feelings for Jake: last night she had dreamt that he had made love to her.
    The dream jumbled around in her memory as she rode up in the elevator and walked to her room.
    He had been fierce and tender, angry and loving, by turns. It was a dream that seemed confusing now, but had made perfect, wonderful sense while it was happening. Afterwards she had flown, exultant in the dark sky, the lights of the city below her. Jake had been at her side, as naked and free as she, his face sometimes smooth, sometimes angry with scars....
    Not Jake. Jace. Vanessa bit her lip. Even in her dreams she was confusing them. Even deep inside her unconscious she was trying to find Jace again in Jake.
    She dragged her suitcase open and snatched out the shoe bag containing her sneakers, then left the room, her thoughts in turmoil.
    In all her confusion, one thing stood out clearly: it would be asking for heartache to become Jake Conrad's lover when she could think only of Jace—and Jake could think only of his demons.
    When he heard her step he turned away from Cathy's adoring gaze and stood looking at her with an expressionless face. "That was quick," he said in a tone of voice that irritated her. She raised an eyebrow at him.
    "If you've changed your mind you've only got to say so," she said levelly. What the devil did the man want? For an answer he took her arm and escorted her across to the huge glass-fronted main entrance, where his long silver car sat by the curb.
    "Do you like sailing?" he asked as the car purred out the drive and onto the street.
    "I haven't sailed for years," she confessed with longing in her voice.
    "No?" Jake asked, as though he had caught her in a lie. "Don't the Standishes sail?"
    She glared at him in silence until he looked over at her. Then she said coldly, "Yes, the Standishes sail, and yes, I learned to sail with them. But I have not been sailing since the second year of my marriage."
    She remembered the first summer they had spent every weekend in the city, Larry answering the phone to his mother every Thursday to tell her calmly that no, this weekend they would be too busy.... He had been so angry, so hurt, he'd wanted nothing from them ever again. Later he had had to accept