"How can you say that? My whole world could blow up and splatter all over you and your family."
"It'll never happen." He used his thumbs to dry her cheeks. "See, we have Marguerite's magic on our side, so we're guaranteed to succeed at whatever we do."
"Well, she may be a good-luck charm, but I'm a curse, so we cancel each other out."
"You are not a curse. And now that you're doing business with us, Marguerite will help you, too."
"Except I don't believe in ghosts."
"Then believe in me." He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. "Because no matter what happens, I'll be here for you."
"I'm sorry," she whispered with tears glistening in her eyes. "I don't believe in you, either. You're too good to be true."
He laughed. "Be sure and tell that to Allison the next time she gets mad at me for being a nosy, overprotective big brother."
"She's an idiot if she thinks that. I wish I'd had a brother like you."
"Well, now you have a friend like me, which is even better since it lets us do the things we did last night."
She let out a laugh as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I need a tissue."
"Well, this proves I'm not too good to be true. If I were, I'd whip a handkerchief from my back pocket and hand it to you."
"You're right. You're not perfect."
"So you'll trust me to stick by you and help you get through whatever happens?"
"Only if you get me a tissue."
"I think I can manage that." Standing with her in his arms, he turned and settled her on the chair. "Will you be all right until I get back?"
She looked up at him and the candlelight shimmered in her damp eyes. "I've done without you my whole life. I think I can manage a few more minutes."
He went inside to get a box of tissues. When he came back out, she was standing by the steps. "Leaving?" he asked with a jolt.
"Yeah." She took a tissue and blew her nose. "I hate to cry and run, but I ..." She peeked at him through damp lashes, then looked away. "I should go."
The friendly concern shifted to something far more urgent and possessive. He longed to take her in his arms again, only to kiss her this time, not comfort her. "Here, take the box with you"
She shook her head. "I'm okay now." Another quick glance, and the moment grew uneasy. "Thanks, you know, for the shoulder."
"Anytime," he assured her, and tamped down the need to ask her to stay, to take her back into his arms and confess all his own mixed-up confusing emotions.
As she disappeared down the footpath that led to the cove, he finally understood how Marguerite and Jack could love each other for years and never say the words out loud. Once words that powerful were spoken, the pretense of mere friendship would have vanished. Love, once acknowledged, had to be acted on, and neither of them had been ready to deal with the consequences.
But was this really love he felt for Jackie? And if so, what should he do about it? If he told her how he felt, would she run like hell, or give him a chance?
Chapter 17
"Believe in me," Adrian had said. "No matter what happens, I'll be here for you."
The words haunted Jackie throughout the night, making her battle the covers, until finally she gave up on sleep. Rising before daybreak, she dressed in shorts and slipped quietly from her cabin. A predawn hush lay over the island as she headed down the beach toward the jogging trail.
Even then, Adrian's words hounded her at every step. "Trust me. Trust me. Trust me." His voice matched the rhythm of her feet, sounding more like her father each time. "Trust me, kid, everything's going to be all right."
Ironically, he'd always said that just before they had to scramble to escape arrest by some port authority. Sometimes they managed to sail away in the nick of time, but twice they'd forfeited their boat and everything on it. The shock of loss never quite left her, to have all her personal belongings snatched away without warning.
And here was Adrian asking her to trust that some disaster wasn't waiting just ahead. Or that if disaster did strike, he wouldn't bail out on her as other friends had.
Oddly, though, she wanted to believe him with a depth of yearning that frightened her.
She picked up her pace, trying to outrun memories of the past and current temptation. She pushed herself harder as she finished her first lap around the island and started a second. She ran until her legs ached and her lungs burned.
"No matter what happens, I'll be here for you."
You will not, she silently railed, her heart pounding louder than the crunch of gravel beneath her shoes. Don't believe him, don't believe him, don't believe him.
Her own words finally drowned his out just as a stitch started in her side. She stumbled to a stop and bent forward with her hands braced on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. Her head felt ready to explode, but at least the urge to trust Adrian's good intentions had vanished. Which proved she could outrun anything if she ran far enough and long enough.
Pressing a hand to her side, she straightened so she could walk and cool down.
"I was wondering how long you'd last at that pace," a voice said from the woods.
With a shriek, she turned to find she'd stopped before one of the bungalows. Carl Ryder sat on the porch steps wearing a black wet suit and drinking a cup of coffee. So much for outrunning the things that chased her.
"How long ... have you ... been out here?" she panted.
"About three laps. Are you training for a marathon?"
"No, just ... running." She motioned toward his body. "You planning to dive in the dark?"
"If I thought it would keep the press away, I might do exactly that." He glanced skyward. "Except it's not exactly dark anymore."
She looked up as well and found the eastern sky had lightened to a clear azure with a blaze of orange. "So it isn't. Which means it's time I got back to my ship."
"I'll walk you." He set the coffee mug aside and grabbed the dive bag at his feet.
"That's okay." She held a hand up. "No need to trouble yourself."
"I'm headed that way anyway."
Great, she thought as he joined her on the trail, leaving her no polite choice but to fall in step beside him. Just what she wanted ---to go for a walk with Carl Ryder. They went several yards in awkward silence.
"I've, um, been thinking," he finally said. "You and I will be seeing each other a lot over the next few months. Perhaps it would be easier if we settle a few things up front."
"Oh?" she said cautiously, wondering if he meant to list all her past sins so she understood exactly how little respect he had for her ---as if she didn't know that already.
"Yeah," he sighed. "So I'll start by saying I'm sorry."
"W-what?" She nearly stumbled.
"For the way I embarrassed you in front of the Historical Society back in the fall. I had no right to take my anger at your mother out on you."
"At my mother?" She gaped at him. "I thought you hated my father."
"I do. Or did." His big shoulders sagged. "I've been pissed at him so long, it feels weird knowing he's gone."
"Yeah. I, um, I know what you mean."
He gave her a startled look but said nothing for a while. "So. How'd Serena take Buddy's death?"
She flashed him a wary look, wondering where this was headed. "She sent her condolences."
"She didn't attend the funeral?"
"Mr. Ryder." She stopped and turned to him. "Not that it's any of your business, but my parents have been divorced since I was five."
He stared at her, and then laughed without humor. "Well, I guess that explains why you were always with him, but she wasn't. Funny, though, how Buddy never mentioned it whenever our paths crossed." He didn't say it aloud, but Jackie swore she heard him add: The sorry son of a bitch. Carl raked a hand through his rumpled blond hair. "The one time I was enough of a sap to ask how she was, he just flashed that smug smile of his and said, 'Happy as a clam'."
"I'm not sure
my mother's capable of being happy." They both resumed walking. "Unless someone granted her independent wealth, and even then, she'd find something to complain about."
"You look like her, you know. Not exactly, but enough. Especially the eyes. I think that's what caught me so off guard that day. I looked up, and for one split second, I thought it was Serena standing there. 'Bout gave me heart failure."
"I didn't realize you knew her that well."
"Your father never told you? Why does that surprise me? Jackie" ---he stopped just before the wooded trail gave way to sandy beach ---"your mother and I were engaged when I introduced her to Buddy."
She stared at him, trying to picture her exotically beautiful and selfish mother with someone who reminded her of a big loyal golden retriever.
"She and I were working at a resort on Bequia. Back then, I was dumb enough to believe everything she told me, but looking back I realize she wanted me to be her ticket off the island and out of poverty."
Jackie thought about telling him that's all Buddy had been, and that Serena had gone through a string of men since, each one progressively richer.
"The resort was looking for another scuba instructor," Carl said. "So I called my good friend Buddy Taylor and said, 'Hey, come on out to the islands. I'll get you a job.' He came and I introduced him to my fiancee, even let him room with me all that summer."
She looked out over the cove, where her ship waited, a solid black shape against the bright sunrise. Carl's team had gathered on the beach, getting ready for the day. She struggled with the twin needs of wanting to be safely on board and staying to hear Carl out.
"I assume you know why Buddy left Bequia?" he asked.
"Not exactly, but I can guess."
"A few months after he arrived, the management caught him dealing drugs. Since they didn't want any bad publicity, they settled for ordering him off the island. When he took off in the shiny new sailboat he'd just bought, Serena went with him, and left me standing on the beach with a dumbfounded look on my face." Carl dropped his head forward, shaking it. "Fool that I was, that was the first clue I had that my fiancee was sleeping with my best friend."
"I'm sorry." She ached for him, realizing he was one more victim that her parents had left in their wake. "I didn't know."
"And I wouldn't be telling you any of this except ... it's going to be hard for me, seeing you over the next few months. Seeing your mother's eyes every time I look at you. So I just wanted you to understand that if I'm less than friendly, it's not personal. Well, it is, but not aimed at you."
"I truly am sorry. If I could make it up to you, I would."
He cocked his head. "I don't expect you to."
"I know, but ---" She stopped as Adrian's advice echoed back to her: Don't be a whipped dog. "Never mind."
"I know I should be over her by now." Carl sighed, stepping onto the long expanse of beach leading to the pier. "But Serena's a hard woman to get over. Especially since she destroyed any chance I had of a decent relationship with anyone else."
"You still love her?"
He snorted. "Not hardly. After she and Buddy blind-sided me, though, I'm told I have 'trust issues.' Lack of trust has a way of screwing up a relationship."
"Personally, I find trust overrated."
He gave her a startled look, then laughed. "Good Lord, someone more cynical than me. I'm astounded."
She glanced up the hill toward the inn, knowing Adrian would be in the kitchen by now.
"Trust me."
I can't.
A flash of morning sunlight reflected off one of the windows in Marguerite's tower, piercing her eyes. As she raised a hand against the brightness, a passage from the diaries came back to her. The last time Marguerite saw Jack, he'd begged her again to run away with him. She'd refused because of her lack of faith. She wanted to believe he loved her, but couldn't bring herself to trust him completely. She let fear of getting hurt and the memory of past mistakes hold her back.
A chill went down Jackie's back as she realized that lack of faith hadn't only ruined Marguerite's life; it had ended it ---even though a part of Marguerite had never stopped yearning for happiness and believing love did exist. She'd been an odd mix of hope and fear, with fear often winning but hope refusing to die.
"Do you know," Carl said as they reached the pier, "I still remember the first time I saw you."
"Hmm?" Jackie pulled her mind away from thoughts of Marguerite and Jack. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I remember the first time I saw you. You were barely old enough to walk." They stopped near the johnboat that ferried divers out to the work platform. "When I realized Buddy and Serena had a child, I looked at you and thought, 'She could have been mine'."
She stared at him in disbelief. "I ..." Lord, what did she say to that? "I'm sorry."
"Me, too." He looked at her sheepishly. "You seemed like a great kid."
"I ..." She didn't dare tell him that she'd wished more than once her dad could be more like him. "Thank you."
"Well." Carl started to turn away. "To work, I suppose."
"Mr. Ryder?"
"Yes?"
"I, um, I want you to know, I've always admired your work. It's a small world we live in ---treasure-hunting and archeology ---and I've heard people talk about you, and well, I know what my father was, and I know I helped him, but there was a part of me that always wished ..."
"What?"
"That I could be a marine archeologist like you."
Surprise showed on his face. "Have you ever thought about pursuing it now?"
"Yes, and I've accepted that I don't have the time or money to get a degree. But, well, I admire what you do. And" ---she took a deep breath and plunged ahead ---"I realize I'm only going to be around a few days a month, but if you happen to need an experienced diver on a volunteer basis ---" She saw him frown and pulled back. "Never mind. Dumb idea. Forget I said anything."
"Actually" ---he nodded, slowly ---"I'll think about it."
"You will?" Her heart skipped a beat.
"I'm not promising anything. I have rules I need to follow."
"Yes. Absolutely. I understand."
"But I'll keep it in mind."
"Really?" She wanted to jump for joy. "You're not just messing with me, are you?"
"I'm not messing with you." He smiled.
"Well, then ..." Trying not to make a fool of herself, she started backing away. "I guess we both have work to do."
"Jackie?" he called as she turned toward the gangway.
"Yes?"
"I hope you won't take this wrong but ..."
"What?"
"You have your mother's eyes, but the similarity stops there."
She started to say thanks but didn't want to be disloyal to her mother. "Let me know if you need a diver."
"I will."
Chapter 18
"Guess what?"
Adrian turned at the sound of Jackie's voice and found her standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling broadly. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd see you today."
"What, you thought I'd slip away without stopping by?" She sauntered forward wearing a cropped-off sweatshirt and a pair of extremely frayed cutoffs that showed off her tanned legs nicely.
His gaze dropped to the sexy silver chain around one ankle before he forced his attention back to the sticks of butter he'd been checking for softness. "When you didn't show for breakfast, I started to worry."
"Ah." She leaned a hip against the center island and crossed her legs at the ankle. "You thought I was hiding out in my cabin, too embarrassed to face you after blubbering on your shoulder last night."
"Something like that." Trying not to stare at her legs, he carried the butter to the island where he'd set up his baking station.
"Ha! I'm made of sterner stuff than that."
He looked down into her face, thinking how good happiness looked on her. "I'm glad to hear you're not embarrassed."
"I didn't say that." She tipped her head. "I'm
just not a wimp who lets a little embarrassment send me into hiding. Truth is, I skipped breakfast because I was busy down on the pier."
"How are things going down there?" He added the butter to the sugar and eggs already in the mixing bowl. "Alli's been watching from the window in the gift shop and says there's lots of activity on the beach. I, on the other hand, have been stuck here in the kitchen all day, filling bakery orders."
"Actually, you're not missing much. It's pretty boring when all you can see is what's happening on the surface and the real action is underwater. However ..." Excitement twinkled in her eyes. "There's a chance that might change for me, which is what I came to tell you."
"Oh?"
"I talked to Carl Ryder this morning."
He studied her. "You're smiling, so I'll guess this is good news."
"It is. Since I'll be around once a month, I asked him if he'd consider letting me help."
"And ..."
"He said maybe." Her whole face lit. "It's not a yes, but it's a lot more than I ever hoped for. Before our talk this morning, I half expected him to ban me from the area for fear I'd swipe some artifacts to sell on the black market."
"That must have been some talk." He flipped on the mixer to blend the ingredients.
"It was. What are you making?"
"Brownies."
"The gooey, rich kind you made the last time I was here? I love those things!"
"You really are a chocoholic." He chuckled.
"You bet. Want some help?" She checked her watch. "I have a few minutes I can spare, and you did promise to give me cooking lessons."
"Well ..." He made a stern face. "I suppose I could let you help, but then I'd have to kill ya, since you'd know my most closely guarded secret."
She snorted. "I'll take my chances, tough guy."
"I don't know ..."
"If you let me help, I'll tell you what Carl and I talked about this morning."
"Oh yeah?"
"You were right about there being a personal issue between him and my father."
"Is it juicy?"
She cocked a brow. "Do I get to help?"
"Can you operate a mixer?"
She eyed the machine doubtfully, then shoved up the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "I've never met a motorized piece of equipment I couldn't conquer."
Don't Tempt Me Page 17
