by Cox, Suzanne
He shook his head. “That’s not true and you know it. Just for a minute, forget that you think I’m going to turn into someone horrible when you least expect it. Quit trying to analyze me and let your heart tell you what’s right.”
“My heart is what led me astray before.”
He caught her chin with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Not this time.”
He let go of her face and returned his hand to her waist. Neither spoke while they danced. The song ended, but was followed by another, and someone yelled his approval.
The hand at her waist moved upward, coming to rest on the back of her neck. He pulled her close, while she tried to hold herself away, her heart shuddering when he whispered her name. He lowered his head until his mouth nuzzled the hair around her rear, causing her tight muscles to give in, and she relaxed against him. His swift intake of breath made her stomach tingle at the idea that she had such an effect on him.
“The dress is perfect on you. I’m glad you wore it.”
She kept her head buried near his shoulder. Why she’d even brought the dress he’d given her, she wasn’t sure. Tonight she’d automatically reached for it when she’d gotten dressed and had been unable to convince herself not to put it on.
“Please talk to me.” Jackson’s lips brushed the edge of her ear as he pleaded.
She leaned back. “Can’t you just let it go? Let’s enjoy this for now, for what it is, a vacation, a time away from our real lives.”
He stopped moving. “I don’t want being close to you to be a time away from my real life. Why can’t it be part of our lives?”
“I seem to recall you telling me just the opposite of that the other day.”
“I was wrong.”
She tried to shrug under the weight of the hands on her shoulders. “Maybe you were right, maybe it is too much of a risk.”
“Maybe there are things worth that kind of risk. Events in my life and how I’ve handled them have put me where I am right now, just like you. Let me tell you what happened the other day.”
She fought with herself but knew what her answer would be, because she couldn’t overcome her past. Her head kept telling her to stay away. But inside of her, something, obviously the genetic material inherited from her mother, made her pull closer.
“I’ll hear your explanation.”
His body slumped against her as if he’d been holding his breath. He glanced around the noisy room. “Not here, let’s go out to the beach, by the water, where it’s quiet.”
She sat on the stiff resin lounge chair, kicked off her sandals and dug her toes in the sand. Water splashed against the steps that led into the ocean, while underneath the water, Emalea could see people on a night dive, the dim glow of their lights making eerie circles on the surface.
“I should have told you all of this weeks ago. Part of me figured you’d hear it by way of the grapevine and another part of me just wanted to put it in the past.”
Not sure what to say, she remained silent. Jackson sat across from her, their knees only inches apart.
“Emalea, my wife and daughter didn’t exactly die in a car accident. They were in a car when they died, but there was a bomb in the car.” He wiped his hand across his face. To Emalea, the breath he took before continuing resembled a gasp, possibly the last breath of a dying man. “They never left the front drive. The whole car blew up right in front of me and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.”
She sat up straighter. “How could that happen? Was someone after you?”
“They were after me, but the bomb wasn’t set for me. They intended to kill my family. It was a warning. I’d been working undercover in a special organized-crime unit in the FBI. We arrested a guy I’d been working with, the nephew of a mob boss. He never went to jail because our witnesses decided not to talk. For him, hurting my family was the best way to tell me to leave him alone.” Elbows resting on his knees, he lowered his head to his hands. “It worked. I guess I went a little nuts. I drank too much, too often, and my temper turned worse than nasty. I used to follow the guy whenever I could, openly, so he’d know I was there. I even beat him up once. I was angry at the world and at myself for putting my family in that position. Finally, the FBI wanted me behind a desk. That’s the real reason I came to Cypress Landing. But I’ve put all that behind me now.”
“What about the other day?”
Jackson got to his feet, shuffling through the sand to the gray stone seawall. He kept his back to her as he continued.
“We were arresting the two men for illegal gun trade. Only, I knew the guy delivering the guns from my work with the Mafia. He knew me, too.” He sat on the rocks, his back to the ocean. “He knew what happened to Christa and Connor, my wife and daughter. He taunted me with it. I lost control. There’s no excusing what I did. I know I was wrong, but I can’t tell you if the same situation happened again I’d do it differently. They took my family from me, and I couldn’t stop them.” His voice shook on the last sentence. Emalea moved to the wall, next to him, leaning against the uneven stones and she saw in his eyes unshed tears shimmering in the glow of the night lights.
She covered his hand with her own. “I’m sorry, I guess that also explains what happened at my house that night.”
He hung his head. “I should have told you all this then, but I couldn’t. What happened to them showed me just how little control I have over what happens to those around me.”
“So you decided to strike out at those you thought responsible.”
He nodded.
She squeezed his hand. “It’s understandable.”
“Does that mean you’re okay with what happened at the bait shop?”
Emalea wasn’t sure how to respond. His story should have hit all her alarm buttons, so why weren’t they raising a clamor? He waited without another word and she knew, sooner or later, she’d have to say something. “I don’t honestly know how I feel about that. I wouldn’t say I’m okay with it, but then it doesn’t sound to me like you’re okay with it, either. At least now I can understand where that rage I saw came from.”
“That’s a part of me, Emalea, but it’s not all of me.”
She slid her arm across his shoulder. “I know, but is it a part you can control?”
“I promise you this, I never had a problem with my temper before this happened and you have nothing to be afraid of from me. I won’t hurt you.” He leaned forward to kiss her, lightly at first, then with more determination, more passion. Parting her lips, she gasped as his tongue reached to meet hers. She struggled to pull him closer, and he straddled the wall. Then he slid her between his legs. His hand bunched the soft fabric of her dress at her thigh, never breaking their kiss.
She pressed her mouth to his neck while unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. She wanted to touch her lips to his broad chest. He groaned, tossing his head back. His fingers loosened the knot of the halter dress, carefully exposing the swelling flesh the fabric covered. His mouth followed the cloth lower, until he found her aching nipple and closed his mouth over it.
A voice called across the pier, followed by rubber flapping and the clank of metal against stone. Jackson circled his hand lightly around her throat, replacing the strap of her dress.
“It seems the night dive is over.”
She brushed her lips against his cheek. “Maybe we should go inside. It’s going to be busy here.” The words that came out of her mouth didn’t surprise her. Though if someone had told her yesterday she’d be considering making love to Jackson today, she’d have laughed. She wasn’t laughing now. The hands that covered her body with caresses so soft and tender could become brutal, but she trusted him. Past lessons had taught her not to trust a man who could use his fists against another that way, but how would she have reacted if a man had joked about her family’s death. She thought of the times she’d been tempted to lift the barrel of her father’s favorite hunting rifle in his direction. The only thing stopping her had been her mother’s misg
uided but constant devotion to the man.
Jackson pushed away from her, cool air rushing between their bodies. “Let’s give it a minute. I don’t want this to happen in the heat of the moment. I want you to be sure this is what you want.”
“I’m almost sure it will be a lot better if there’s a certain amount of that heat-of-the-moment thing going on.” She tugged at another button on his shirt, smiling, her breathing still ragged. Her reservations concerning a relationship with Jackson had been buried by the passion that erupted every time he touched her. She had to have his touch, needed it.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” His voice rasped, his features taut, lips full, hungry for more of her. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen a man so consumed with desire for her. It made a band constrict around her chest and for an instant she couldn’t breathe. Then the band broke and a warm ocean of something that was probably love but she’d rather label passion filled her.
“Jackson, just because I’m a psychologist doesn’t mean I want to analyze every move I make beforehand.” She took his hands in hers. “And you? Is this what you want?”
He bent to kiss the back of each hand. “I want this as much as I want to draw my next breath.”
She pulled him to his feet. “Me, too.”
Leading him across the soft sand to her room, Emalea did what Lana would have advised. Leaving behind her defenses, for the first time in a long time, she let her heart lead the way.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE AIR SMELLED OF SALT WATER, and the sky was filled with brilliant stars. It wasn’t that the stars here were different from the ones at home, but they seemed to burn brighter. Being here, away from reminders of real life, made everything a little clearer. Emalea wasn’t sure why, but right now she could see herself and her life with a clarity that had escaped her in the past.
“So, you and Jackson are going to dive Barracuda Reef tomorrow.”
Glancing at Lana, languishing in a lounge chair much like herself, Emalea smiled. Nearby, at the hotel bar, she could hear the hum of conversations interrupted by an occasional bark of laughter.
“Yep, do you and Lance want to come, too?”
Lana snorted. “I’m no thrill seeker, and I’m definitely not that good of a diver yet, neither is Lance. Remember, we only just learned last year and we don’t do all that rescue diving stuff that you do. Of course, I can’t believe the other guys stuck with their promise to go sightseeing with their wives when they heard you two were going.”
Emalea shifted in her chair, closing her eyes. In the quiet, she tried to discern Jackson’s voice among those drifting to them from the bar. Several of the men had decided to try another game of poker. Occasionally his deep voice washed over her.
“It would appear to me that two people I know are getting along much better now.”
Emalea put her hands behind her head. “It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?”
Lana rolled to one elbow, shaking her head. “You are so tight-lipped. What gives? Are you two sharing one of those beds now?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Em, I’m your best friend. If it’s not my business, whose is it?” She flopped onto her back. “You don’t have to say a word, though, that guy’s face tells the whole story.”
This time Emalea sat up to stare at Lana. “What is that supposed to mean?”
The woman beside her gave a low chuckle. “He is so eaten up with you.” She sat up, so that they were facing each other. “In fact, it’s almost downright sickening to see that puppy-dog expression of his whenever you leave the room.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m right and you don’t want to admit it. Jackson loves you. Notice how I didn’t say he’s ‘in love with’ you, because he’s not just in love. He’s got that I’m-in-this-boat-for-the-long-haul look.”
Emalea lay back again to gaze at the stars. “I don’t know if it’s to that point. Besides, things could change when we get home.”
“They won’t change if you don’t try to make them change. God, Em, doesn’t it just feel right? From where I’m sitting, the two of you together seems so right.”
A shiny white light shot across the sky. Emalea raised her hand to point, but the light was gone.
“Shooting star,” she whispered. Sliding her feet across the plastic chair, she bent her knees toward her chest.
Lana remained quiet and Emalea turned to her. “It does feel right, like sitting in that big, stuffy chair I always had in my room when we were in school.”
Her friend grinned. “I’m glad. Now don’t mess it up with a whole lot of analyzing that doesn’t amount to spit.”
Emalea started to ask what kind of stuff didn’t amount to spit but figured that would be better left unsaid. As far as Lana was concerned, it would be anything that made Emalea second-guess Jackson. A burst of laughter from the men made them both look in the direction of the bar.
“Em, don’t you think it’s time we went in there and showed them how poker is really played?”
Emalea stuck her feet in her leather sandals. “I think so. We can likely have all their little toothpicks in an hour.”
“Oh, easily.”
They marched through the sand straight to the men’s table where they were greeted with groans and a confused expression from Jackson.
Lana glanced at him then leaned toward Emalea. “Bless him, he doesn’t know what’s about to happen.”
“Too bad, he’ll have to learn like the rest of them.” Emalea said, then proceeded to take the first hand and half of Jackson’s toothpicks.
THE EARLY MORNING SUN hung just above the horizon, not yet hot enough to warm the air that whipped across the bow of the small dive boat. Glad that they’d both donned wet suits before leaving the dock, Emalea wrapped her arms around herself, not really cold, but feeling a chill run through her body.
Jackson winked at her, a toothpick bobbing in the corner of his mouth. At poker she’d managed to win his stash, but later that night he’d found ways to win them back. She hadn’t minded one bit. Cool, salty spray misted her face, and she closed her eyes, hoping this feeling wouldn’t end. Just the thought of how they spent their time alone together brought burning images to her mind. He was perfect. They were perfect together. Surely, she couldn’t be misleading herself about that. When she opened her eyes Jackson smiled at her and her bare toes curled into the bottom of the boat.
She chuckled, remembering how he’d sat in a chair facing the bathroom mirror last night and coached her through shaving his head.
“What’s so funny?” Jackson shouted above the whine of the outboard motor.
She ran her hand on top of her head.
He smiled then touched his own head. “You did a good job.”
Before she could respond, the engine died and the dive guide, who would be leading them on the trip, began to describe their dive plan in slightly broken English. When the instructions were complete, she, Jackson and the guide suited up before rolling backward into the water. The current tugged at her body, sending all three of them flying along the reef. She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, letting the guide know she wasn’t having problems. The current seemed to lessen when they reached the large section of the reef at ninety feet.
Spotting an array of brightly colored coral surrounded by a school of black-gray queen angelfish, she swam deeper to get a closer look. Jackson followed, and she waved to the guide who gave her the okay sign and then swam past the next coral head to hunt for other interesting sites to show them. The current still pushed them along, so Emalea motioned for Jackson to head into the flow and paddle against it. Colorful fish raced past, while a large green eel appeared, snaking its fierce head from among the rocks. She gave Jackson a thumbs-up sign when she saw his eyes widen. Jackson tapped his dive watch, indicating they didn’t have much time left.
The deeper they descended, the more air they used due to pressure. At this depth, t
heir trip would be a short one. Ahead of them was the coral head, where she’d last seen their guide, and Emalea went in that direction. He wasn’t there so they continued on, letting the current drag them. The dive guide had obviously been pulled along much faster than she had imagined.
After searching for the guide for close to three minutes, Jackson held his air gauge toward her and Emalea realized they needed to start for the surface. The guide might have had trouble and had to get in the boat. The driver of the boat usually followed the bubbles as they broke the surface, easily keeping up with the divers, and beneath the water, the divers could see the bottom of the boat in the crystal-clear water, even from depths of a hundred feet. Tilting her head to locate their ride home, her throat tightened. The boat was nowhere to be seen.
She pointed upward and they began their ascent, slowly, to keep air bubbles that might have accumulated in their bodies from enlarging as the pressure of the water decreased. Boat or no boat, they had to get to the top or they would run out of air. She reassured herself that their ride back to shore had simply gotten too far away from them while following the dive guide. The journey stretched into an eternity as Emalea looked in every direction for the boat.
At the top, they filled their BC jackets with air to keep them floating. An empty blue sea stretched for miles. Jackson shoved his mask from his head jerking the regulator from his mouth.
“What the hell is going on? Where’s the boat?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t sit here like this for long. The current will only keep moving us. We need to try and swim back to the island.”
He pointed past her shoulder. “I hope you don’t mean that island.”
She squinted to see what appeared to be a spit of land getting smaller by the minute. “That would be the one. We’ll need to drop our weight belts, tanks, too. Neither one of them has enough air left to do us any good.”
Jackson nodded and they both grabbed the plastic release buckles, getting rid of the pieces of lead that had been strapped to their waist to help keep them under the water when making their dive. Then they took turns loosening the straps holding the tanks to each BC jacket. The heavy metal cylinders sank out of sight. With the added weight gone, Emalea set out swimming.
