“What’s wrong? Shit. You don’t have anyone to look after you.”
Sadly true—though Monroe didn’t see why it was coming up now. “Did you really cancel?”
“Food poisoning. Linda should have called you. Guess you’re one of the lucky ones.”
“I didn’t eat at the reception.” The news sank in. “Oh! I’m so sorry.” She didn’t dare ask how bad it was; Tara could be squeamish. But if Tara was answering the phone, there probably wasn’t a need to call an ambulance.
“Not half as sorry as I am, believe me. Linda feels awful about it, and I think I’ll need a divorce because I cannot be intimate with a man capable of some of the things I’ve seen and heard the last few hours.”
Monroe could tell that her friend was pushing herself, forcing a cheer she clearly didn’t feel. “What can I do? You need Pepto?”
“No. Enjoy the snorkeling.”
“I’m not going alone!”
“Why not? The fee is nonrefundable. Thousands of bucks down the drain if you cancel.”
Monroe frowned. Everyone knew she hated wasting money. She’d once sat through a football game in a quasi-hurricane because she’d learned the tickets had cost several hundred dollars. She didn’t even like sports.
“You know what you can do?” Tara asked. “Go. Have fun. Take photos. Then I can Photoshop myself into them later. Ok? Do that for me? I’m serious.”
Damn. She couldn’t even yell about the blatant manipulation because Tara was sick. “Ok,” she said. “Feel better, and I’ll check on you when I get in.”
“Don’t,” Tara insisted. “Let us have our dignity. HavefunIgottago—” She hung up abruptly, leaving Monroe wincing.
Sosie was waiting a bit off to the side. “Everything good?” she asked.
“Sort of. I need to grab my camera.”
“You don’t.” Sosie smiled, her teeth a white flash in her freckled, tan face. “We’ve got two professional underwater cameras. We’ll document everything. It’s our deluxe package.”
Sosie drove them about half an hour away. Monroe stared out the window at the brightly painted, squat Caribbean houses while feeling lonelier than ever. She’d really been looking forward to spending some quality time with her friends, sans menfolk. Never mind that she’d dragged her feet about coming along; she couldn’t have passed this up. And, she realized, this was what she hadn’t felt about Thomas. She didn’t miss him. She’d definitely made the right decision. People would be shocked when they heard how she did it, but a man who stood her up at the last minute and then couldn’t be bothered to check in deserved an email breakup.
She wondered if he’d responded yet.
“Sosie, hypothetical question. In your opinion, what’s worse: being boring, or being dumped by a boring person?”
“Being boring,” Sosie said, not missing a beat. “It’s harder to fix. A boring person dumps you, it saves you the trouble of having to dump them, right?”
“Right.” So Thomas was probably celebrating being rid of her. Just great.
As they walked into Dive Happy Caribbean’s shop, Sosie quizzed Monroe about her diving experience.
“None,” Monroe said. “I can barely swim.”
Sosie frowned. “I thought…” She shook her head. “We’ll figure it out.”
A strikingly handsome man with dark skin looked up as they entered. Monroe pegged him as being in his early twenties. “Hello!” he boomed. “What’s this about no diving?”
“My friends are certified,” Monroe said, feeling pathetic. “They canceled. I was just coming along to snorkel.”
“No problem,” he said, flashing that irresistible smile. Monroe wondered if he was in the habit of seducing single women on vacation. She could imagine he was very good at it. Too bad he wasn’t a bit older…
“Take Dragon,” he said to Sosie.
Sosie went behind the counter and flipped open a binder in which she recorded the time and then made some notes. She closed the binder and stowed it. “I thought Dragon was out of play this week?”
The handsome man shook his head dismissively. “She only needed a little pep talk.” He winked at Monroe, and she felt her knees go weak. This guy was way too smooth for her, but the attention felt damned good. “Sign here.” He slid several forms over for Monroe’s attention.
She filled out her address and phone number and scribbled her name and the date at the bottom. The man made the papers disappear into a bulging expandable folder. Sosie turned to her. “Ready to have fun?”
Monroe’s mouth went dry. “Where exactly are we going?”
Sosie walked her to a wall map. “I have three sites to show you. We’ll do some snorkeling by this island here. They have a nice coral reef. Then, over here… it’s usually for divers, but I’ve been very lucky with the wild dolphins, if that interests you?”
“She’s lucky. Has a three-week streak,” the man boomed. “Wild dolphins are beautiful creatures. You will feel nature looking at you.”
“What about sharks? Will they be looking, too?” Monroe asked, stalling. The truth was that she was terrified of deep water. She didn’t like it above her waist, and she was a terrible swimmer. Not being a good swimmer made her avoid water… It was a vicious cycle.
“And then we’ll do some more snorkeling here. The most beautiful fish you’ve ever seen, and tons of sea turtles. We call it Eden Underwater.” Sosie wasn’t getting Monroe’s permission; this was the itinerary.
But Monroe could call it off. And she should, because frankly, she wasn’t going to enjoy herself. The tour guides wouldn’t care, not if the payment was nonrefundable.
“Ready?” Sosie smiled, apparently not noticing Monroe’s discomfort.
“Enjoy your tour of paradise,” the handsome man said with another wink. “One day here can change your life forever.”
Monroe’s excuse was on her lips, but his words lodged in her heart. Change your mind to transform your life.
The echo of the night before threw her off guard, so instead of admitting that this was a mistake, she found herself following Sosie down a little pathway and onto a dock. There were a dozen iguanas sunning themselves on an uneven pile of rocks. Monroe stared. They were stunning. Some bright green, others bluish. Some had spikes, others were smooth. She felt like she’d been dropped into a miniature Jurassic Park set.
“Whose iguanas?” Monroe asked.
“You must not have been here long. They’re wild, all over the island. This way.” Sosie led Monroe onto a boat the size of a city bus.
“Welcome aboard Dragon,” Sosie said. “Dive Happy Caribbean is fifty years old, and she was Pietr’s first ship. In 1980 he purchased a second boat, and now our fleet is nine strong. Eleven, if you count two boats that we occasionally lease during the high season.”
“It’s not very big, is it?” Monroe walked the width of the vessel, avoiding looking into the dark water. She would have felt much more comfortable on something the size of an aircraft carrier.
Sosie laughed. “Normally we do take a larger boat, but she’ll do just fine,” she promised.
“Because it’s just me.”
“That and because we’re snorkeling, not diving. Divers require equipment. We’ll make one stop to pick up Ralph because his car died—oh, there he is!” She began waving, and Monroe turned to see a short, wide man with brownish-orange dreadlocks hanging to his waist. His T-shirt read, “Keep Calm and Whip Yo’ Hair.” He was panting as he hurried up to the boat. “Had to borrow Luke’s bike,” he said to Sosie.
“He let you take the new scooter?”
“No, the bike. You attach your feet to the wheels via pedals and churn your legs.” He rolled his arms and shoulders in a rhythmic circular motion. “It’s torture, woman.” He turned to Monroe. “I’m Ralph.” He pumped her arm enthusiastically.
She liked him immediately. This was the right choice, she decided, and she was going to have fun. Day One of her changed life. She peeled off her sundress, settled onto a plastic chair
on the boat’s deck, closed her eyes and tilted her head back, enjoying the feel of the sun warming her skin.
It was a good thing she liked Sosie and Ralph, because forty minutes later they were floating in the sea, the motor refusing to engage, a burned, acrid smell in the air.
Sosie and Ralph apologized profusely, but Monroe didn’t mind. Secretly, she was ecstatic. Now she wouldn’t have to disappoint them—or herself—by not getting in the water.
Chapter 4
Although he was half a mile away, Koenraad was aware that Dragon had entered his territory. How could he not be? It was an old thing, and it should have been retired years ago. It leaked oil through the exhaust and into the water. His water.
The temptation to swim up late one night and make off with a few crucial engine parts had never been stronger. It was time to have another talk with Pietr, and this time he’d make it official. Pietr, of course, wouldn’t realize it was official. Like most humans, Pietr didn’t know anything about the small but strong society that Koenraad belonged to, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t subject to its rules.
Koenraad had been following a lone, battered bottlenose dolphin for about twenty minutes. The dolphin was certainly aware of him, but it pretended not to notice, no doubt hoping he’d leave it alone. Koenraad knew it was running out of air but was afraid to surface, where it would be an easy target for a large and hungry shark to attack from underneath.
The dolphin was in luck; Koenraad had no intention of eating the thing. At first he’d wondered if it was a shifter because dolphins generally didn’t travel alone, but his nose told him otherwise. It was old, perhaps sick. But still, something about its behavior bothered him, so he continued to follow at a distance, trying to pinpoint the reasons for his uneasy feeling.
The boat, Koenraad realized, had stopped. That was also strange. They weren’t near any of the usual tourist diving grounds. He would have frowned if he’d had eyebrows.
So much for his relaxing day off. Unfortunately, he was the only shifter patrolling these waters. The backups Darius kept promising hadn’t arrived and probably never would. Koenraad could deal with trouble now or it would be waiting for him later. Humans first; he’d pick up the animal’s trail later. The dolphin could surface in peace.
He turned easily and sliced through the water, his body ideally suited for that purpose. In mere minutes, the smell of oil was making him ache to shift human. Actually, it made him wish he could shift into a real human because as a shifter, his senses were never dull.
Hyper-acute senses was the worst thing about spending so much time in his shark form. He’d commissioned an enormous outdoor aquarium in the space behind his formerly favorite home on Tureygua, and even though it was more than large enough for him to keep moving, to keep water flowing over his gills, it always felt like a prison after twenty minutes.
He shook off the thought. A confined space was better than being dead in the ocean.
Then there was the day his neighbor’s delinquent teenage son had shown up with two girls for an unannounced swim.
Chuckling silently, Koenraad swam under the bobbing boat, cautious in case the motor roared to life. His thick skin already bore scars from an earlier brush with propellers. Not a problem as a shark, but he’d shifted back to human too quickly that day. With scars stretching from his neck to his lower back, there was no chance of him winning a beauty contest after that.
He couldn’t make out the conversation. Not coming from that boat, built like a small, floating fortress. Times like this, he wished he were a true shifter. It would be nice to turn into a cute little porpoise.
Being a great white shark, and near these islands that depended on tourism… it was better to stay out of sight.
But curiosity got the better of him, and he swam closer to the side of the boat, where he could lurk in the morning shadows.
“Really, it’s fine!” a female voice insisted. It wasn’t anyone he knew. Must be the customer, then. Good. If Dragon had broken down with a paying customer aboard, it might not be so hard to convince Pietr to dry dock her.
“The tow should be here in about forty minutes,” Ralph said. “They’re helping out someone on the other side of the island.”
“I know. You told me, Ralph. Really, it’s fine. I’m happy to float here and enjoy the nice weather.”
Koenraad inched out, curious to see this woman who had paid thousands for a charter but yet was so agreeable about the unexpected change in plans. He caught a glimpse of her hands gripping the metal railing, holding on like she expected a tempest to upend the boat. A few more inches and he saw her arms, lovely, long. Strong. Her head was turned, facing away. He followed the lines of her shoulders down. His attention focused on the sight before him. She was wearing a scandalously small bikini covered in a busy print. In his pure shark form, he perceived colors differently, but he knew that bikini was bright. He couldn’t help notice that she filled it out nicely. He yearned to see her face.
She turned toward him, and he froze. So did she. Even with sunglasses covering a third of her face, he knew she was stunning. High cheekbones, a fullness in her cheeks, plump lips, a delicate chin. Her eyebrows gathered together as she inhaled, those tantalizing lips parting in a seductive oval.
“Shark!”
Koenraad slipped around to the other side of the boat, his mouth open in a grin that would have stricken fear into the heart of anyone who saw it. The boat rocked as everyone on board—he guessed it was just three—rushed to see what the woman was talking about.
“There was a shark,” the woman insisted, her voice shrill and breathless. “A shark. It was huge. A great white.”
“Could be.” That was Sosie.
“You know there are sharks here?”
“Sure,” Sosie said. “You can get in a cage and dive with them. Really, they don’t bother anyone.”
“Well, I’m glad the trip is canceled,” the woman said.
“Canceled? We’re not canceling on you.”
“Oh,” the woman said. “I don’t know…”
“Don’t worry,” Ralph said. “The sharks here are well fed and have no interest in munching on humans. Humans are too bony. They can’t digest us.”
“No. I think… I think I want to go back to the hotel when our tow comes.” There was a determined certainty in her voice.
Koenraad felt a twinge of guilt. He’d frightened her, and now she was afraid to continue her vacation. And poor Ralph and Sosie would get blamed. He shook his head slightly. He was hardly the only shark in the water, but he understood how catching a glimpse of him would give a vacationer pause. At over twenty feet long, he was large, even for a great white. But then he was large as a human, too.
With a flick of his tail, he cleaved through the water, heading for his boat.
Chapter 5
Monroe felt trapped. After seeing that monster in the water, she now had the perfect excuse not to snorkel. Sosie and Ralph tried to calm her, and she really didn’t want to hurt their feelings, but she kept repeating that she wanted to go back. Poor guides. They’d done nothing wrong. But sharks plus deep water? Her frazzled nerves could only take so much.
“Here comes Koenraad,” Sosie called out to Ralph.
Monroe’s heart dropped. She hadn’t yet convinced them that she absolutely needed to go back. “That tugboat was fast,” she said, nervousness bubbling up again. She pulled on her sundress and grabbed her beach bag.
Ralph wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. “That’s not a tugboat and they wouldn’t send a tug out for something this size. That’s Koenraad. Nice guy. Probably wondering why we’re sitting here and figured he’d motor over rather than radio.”
“Oh,” Monroe said, feeling stupid. But then, how could she be expected to tell the difference between types of boats? To her, they were small, medium or large. She could tell a kayak from a canoe from a cruise ship, but that was the extent of it.
Though as the boat drew closer, she realiz
ed it was too fancy to be a tugboat. It was a sleek vessel, longer than Dragon, and the hull gleamed white, almost too bright to look at. There were dark-tinted windows around what she believed was called the cabin, and a second smaller level above it, where a lone figure stood.
The boat silently drifted toward them, and she caught its name. The Good Life. She braced herself, sure it would slam into Dragon, but it stopped less than a foot away. A man came down from the upper deck of the cabin.
For some reason, she’d been expecting someone in his sixties with weatherworn skin. This man was in his late twenties or early thirties. He moved with self-assured grace, and it wasn’t until he was on his deck that she realized he was quite tall, perhaps 6’5”. His hair was wet, swept away from his face, and she guessed it was a light brown when dry. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and she was shocked by how dark his eyes were. From where she stood, at least, she couldn’t tell the iris from the pupil. They were freaky, and she shuddered lightly.
“She thought your yacht was a tugboat, man,” Ralph said, laughing.
Monroe felt her cheeks heating.
The tall stranger turned and contemplated the bulk of his boat, his head cocked as if noticing it for the first time. “I can see it,” he said, not sounding the least bit offended. He turned to her and winked, then, his hands tucked casually in the pockets of his loose pants, he looked at Ralph, eyebrows raised. “Problem?”
“Engine seized up. Waiting for a tow,” Ralph said. He smiled. “Don’t suppose you want to trade places?”
“And give up my tugboat? Never.” Those weird eyes turned back to her and she realized they weren’t quite black, just an impossibly dark blue ringed in lighter blue, and his pupils were overly dilated given how bright it was. There was something about this man that completely unnerved her. Not just his bizarre eyes, or his height, or the fact that he was so confident. There was something animal about him.
She wasn’t even quite sure what that meant, but it was the word that came to mind. She suddenly thought of the ending to a Wallace Stephens poem she’d studied in college. The exact words eluded her, but the image stuck: a lion, snoozing in the sun, seemingly harmless. And then the last line—that she remembered. It can kill a man.
Touching Paradise Page 3
