Gage, Ronna - Paradise Mine (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Ronna Gage

She secured the yacht’s doors, blew out the candle, and walked in the direction of her stateroom. “My first night on the ship is a treat I plan to relish.” She looked forward to the solitude. No one but Jamie and the harbormaster knew she was there.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Hello…I’m the Cap’n…Captain of Bashhhtom Thervices…” The man held up his hand, one finger pointed skyward. “Let me say that again.” He took a deep breath and steadied his stance. “I’m the captain sent over from Bass-Tom Services. I’m here to board the yacht docked in slip ten.”

  Amos gazed at him warily, crossed his arms over his chest, and replied, “Is that right?” The young man asking for the key to slip ten was drunk. Amos didn’t know if giving him the key would be a good idea or not, but he did expect him to come in this evening.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well. Son, Roger said you’d be by tonight. He told me that if you showed up drunk, to let you sleep it off on the yacht.”

  “Yes, sir. I can handle that. Sounds like a plan.”

  Amos shook his head in mild protest mixed with wonder and worry. I sure hope Roger knows what he’s doing with that young lady onboard earlier than anyone planned. “Would you like some coffee son?” Amos asked him softly.

  The young man looked at him with slight amusement, and then smiled. “I’d love some.”

  “I don’t usually let out keys to drunken men you understand.”

  “Afraid I will drink and sail?” The reputed captain chuckled at his own joke.

  Amos looked at him, not smiling.

  “You didn’t find that one funny, huh?” he shrugged his shoulders. “I thought it was pretty good,” he murmured to himself. The jokester acted deflated by the harbormaster’s lack of sense of humor.

  The old man barely chuckled at the younger man’s disappointment. He turned toward the coffeemaker, grabbed a Styrofoam cup, and poured a large serving.

  “Sorry, about my, uh condition. I usually have a going-away party with each sail. That’s what the pirates used to do way back when.”

  “You don’t say?” Amos said when he turned back toward his unofficial ward. “Here you go.” The drunken pirate lover took the cup of coffee. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

  His sip was cautious, but the sight of him gagging made Amos chuckle out loud. The drunken sailor spit it out, gagged some more, and punched himself in the chest.

  “You know how to kill a good buzz. This shit is strong enough to walk by itself.”

  “I hope so, son. You have to be sober before I give you this key,” Amos showed him the key dangling from the string in his hand. “I think you should get yourself together. You need to get something to eat and some sleep before you meet the yacht’s owner.”

  “You’re right. I’ll get a burger at the Swab Bucket across the street and grab some shut-eye too. I don’t want the lady to see me all wasted.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  The younger man extended his hand toward Amos. “Thanks a lot, friend.”

  Amos returned the gesture. “Amos. My name is Amos. What’s your name, son?”

  The man looked at the ceiling. “Just call me Grumpy. My six other friends do.”

  “Well, have a good night, Grumpy.”

  The young, would-be captain grinned. “That’s funny. You have a good night too.”

  Amos watched the young man calling himself Grumpy walk out into the night as sober as he could get him with one cup of strong black coffee.

  “God help him and that nice woman on The Pouty Princess.”

  * * * *

  Crash!

  Boom!

  Bang!

  Rae Anne jerked to a sitting position. Several loud noises rousted her out of a deep sleep. “What the hell?” She sat in bed and listened for another sound, or crash to reach her ears. “God, please help me.”

  It’s at times like these I wish I had a dog, a gun, or even a bat. Amos assured her this afternoon that no one would bother her if she stayed on the yacht alone this evening.

  Footsteps creaked above her.

  Frantically, she stumbled out of bed and searched the room for a weapon, anything of use to protect herself. Thankfully, the light from the dock provided sufficient lighting inside the stateroom for her to get around without tripping and stumbling in the unfamiliar surroundings.

  She found the mop she used to clean up the shower leak. That’s another thing I have to deal with before we leave tomorrow. She grabbed the mop up by the handle and brought it closer to her body. Testing the weight, she let it out a few inches from her person. “It has some heaviness, but what else?”

  The second scan of the room revealed the emergency kit. She ran to the cabinet, retrieved the box from the storage compartment, and opened it. Inside, she found six flares and a gun. “What are you going to do with these Rae Anne?” She lifted the flare gun and loaded it with a single flare. “Knock him over the head with the mop handle, and then shoot him in the ass with the flares?” She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous notion. Heavy footsteps crept above her. “This isn’t a moment to take lightly. You’re under invasion and right now anything will do to get you out of here alive.” Where the heck is that captain when you need him? “Men!”

  The footsteps on the upper deck stopped. She almost willed her gaze to penetrate the ceiling to locate him. Where is he? Quiet and slow in her escape from the stateroom, Rae Anne hugged the wall in the shadows. I wish I had someone. The soft cotton of her pajamas warmed her against the chill she felt. To fight my battles with a clear head. Rae Anne rounded the corner, a man sat at the helm. What is he going to do, take my boat? Adrenaline surged in her, a result of the instinct to protect herself and the boat. She raised the heavy mop handle high as she could. At a moment like this, I wished Landy were here. In one swift move she hit the intruder on the head.

  “Motherfu—”

  He fell out of the chair and landed on the floor on his side clutching his head. She turned on the desk lamp. The trespasser rolled over, and Rae Anne stumbled back screaming—too stupefied to move. She stood by the desk, gawking at what could only be a hallucination. After all, she did wish Landy was there to protect her.

  * * * *

  “What the fuck?” The throbbing pain in his head had nothing to do with inebriation, but a good hit by a strong force. Thank God the screaming stopped. He concentrated on his surroundings. Heavy breathing came from near the desk, where just a few seconds ago he had looked over the itinerary for the next two days. Who in hell would hit me over the head? “Listen, I’m going to lift my arms up very slowly, I need to know one thing. Are you armed?” Landy raised his hands at a snail’s pace as he said he’d do. Any sudden moves could get his head bashed in. “What did you hit me with?”

  “Landy, is that you or areare you a ghost?”

  The woman questioning him shocked him, but the fact that she knew his name surprised him more. “You know me?” Landy raised his head to look into the eyes of his assailant. A pale, older version of Rae Anne Jamison sat trembling by the desk.

  “Are you haunting me?” she whispered.

  Facing her now, mixed feelings bombarded his mental faculties. A part of him wanted to comfort her and let her know he was alright, that the blow hadn’t killed him, but his anger kept him in place—a good arm’s length away. “Rae Anne?”

  The woman nodded, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes widening at the mention of her name.

  This is just great! Change my name from Grumpy to Lucky.

  “I thought you were dead,” she cried and took a step around the desk, closer to him.

  “No, as you can see, I’m not dead.” Landy tried to get up but stumbled back down. “What the fuck did you hit me with?”

  Rae Anne stopped in her tracks. “I beg your pardon!”

  “You hit me on the head,” he reminded her with a heaping amount of sarcasm. “With what?”

  “A wet mop handle,” she confessed meekly.

  Landy rolled his ey
es. He used the desk’s edge to pull himself up from the floor and stood.

  “Landy?”

  Landy faced her. “Rae Anne, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  That again? “You seem to be stuck on that one phrase. No, Rae Anne, you didn’t kill me. But it would have been more merciful if you’d knocked me out.” Landy picked up the discarded mop handle and held it out to her. “I guess you’ll need to get another mop.”

  She snatched the two pieces from him and clutched them to her like a weapon or shield. What good it would do, Landy had no idea.

  He rubbed his hand over the bump on his head and then looked at it. Good, no blood. “You are a good hitter, I’ll give you that.”

  Then Rae Anne’s indescribable wide-eyed expression caught him by surprise. “Are you all right?”

  Her face paled to the color of cotton. “Yes,” she whispered.

  The small fearful voice didn’t sound anything like the Rae Anne he remembered, but that was many years ago. And people change. Landy watched her swoon in slow motion, and in a second’s notice, her eyes rolled back and she fell forward. He took immediate action and sprinted to her. He caught her around the waist, before she hit the floor.

  Landy picked her up, and then laid her on the sofa nearby. He rushed around the wet bar for a rag and turned on the water tap. He wrung the excess water out and hurried to her side. “Rae Anne? Baby, you can’t do this to me.” He gently placed the rag on her forehead.

  Rae Anne relaxed. She whispered his name.

  “Hmmm?”

  “I had the most wonderful dream. You and I were on the yacht, but that’s impossible.”

  “Shhh.”

  Her eyes fluttered, but she didn’t open them.

  * * * *

  “Rae Anne, are you all right, baby?” Landy’s worried voice called to her. He called her by the nickname he gave her long ago. “Rae Anne?”

  She didn’t want to wake up and lose Landy to daylight. Funny, he didn’t look the same as he did in my other dreams. He looked older and more gorgeous than in his youth. She smiled in spite of the changes. It was a wonderful dream.

  “I don’t want to wake up. I love this dream. You’re back, and I have you again.”

  “What?” Landy smoothed his hand over her hair. “Rae Anne, you aren’t dreaming.”

  Her eyes popped open. The five o’clock shadow on his chin handsomely enhanced his features. His long hair covered the nape of his neck, it looked nothing like the military cut he sported at their last night together. He had more muscles than she remembered. His smile had changed though. It no longer shone in his brown eyes, which held an element of danger and aloofness. She reached out to touch his cheek, but slightly jerked back. “You’re really here?”

  “Uh, yeah, I’m really here.”

  Immediately, her eyes filled with tears as her gaze roamed over his body. “I thought you were dead.”

  “So you’ve said.” Landy sat back a little from her. “What are you talking about?”

  “The War Department informed me that you died almost ten years ago.”

  Landy’s hand stilled, his eyes penetrated hers. “What?”

  “You died on New Year’s Eve. Your jeep was bombed, and you were killed instantly.” Rae Anne lifted her hand to his cheek. The feel of his warm skin against her palm made him real. She felt the overwhelming emotions surface and threw herself into his arms. “I was devastated by the news. The thought of losing you forever.” She cried her joy and anguish for the loss of time. She closed her eyes to the horrible memory, to the pain she had felt so long ago, and still felt, but tonight it didn’t almost kill her.

  “My Humvee was attacked. The driver of the detail was killed, not me.”

  Rae Anne sobbed on his shoulder, soaking his shirt, but she didn’t care. Her prayers had been answered. She had Landy back. “Why didn’t you come home to me?”

  “I was under the impression you were happy with your new love life.”

  The bitterness in his voice and his allegations shocked the hell out of her. Rae Anne jerked away from him. “What? Who?”

  “That actor, what’s his name? Thomas Howard.”

  “What? Is this a joke?” She braced herself for the punch line.

  Landy pulled himself roughly off the sofa. “Cut it out, Rae Anne. I know all about it.”

  “About what?” Did I miss something here?

  “You married your millionaire politician, and your father got his political prestige—all wrapped up in one neat little package.”

  Rae Anne sat up, erect with anger. “What are you talking about? And leave my father out of this.”

  “Gladly.” Landy walked to the wet bar, grabbed a decanter of amber liquid, and poured some out into a shot glass. “I hope this is strong.” He slammed it back and inhaled. “And you know what else?” he asked pointing a finger at her.

  Rae Anne shook her head, but remained silent. The passionate fire in his eyes shone not with love, but with anger.

  “I’m shocked by the ease you had of getting over me.”

  Rae Anne sputtered in response to the insinuation. “Getting over you? With ease? Are you crazy?” She tossed the cold compress to the floor, stood up ramrod straight, and squared her shoulders. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. I have spent the last ten years of my life going to Washington, DC, to a damn wall only to view your name. I’ve had no children in my marriage, because the family I planned for and the man I’ve loved all my life, was killed in war, taking me with him.” She turned to walk away, but made an about face. “Ease of getting over you. You’ve haunted me every night of my life since your supposed death. I see you everywhere! You’ve been to places where you had no business, and what’s more, I’ve never gotten over you. I’ve been through hell and back, lost my sanity and fought the devil to regain it.”

  Landy tossed down the shot glass. “I’ll just bet.”

  The bitterness Rae Anne felt over his death turned to hope, but that faded fast looking at Landy now. Her dream come true stood in front of her, alive after all these years and accused her of leaving him. How could she convince him he was wrong? How can he not believe in me? Had she built him up to ginormous stature in her mind to be letdown by his guarded demeanor? Give him time. He’ll come around. Her train of thought stopped with such force, she tensed in her stance. Why is he here? She eyed Landy with a curiosity. His bowed head and fallen shoulders spoke volumes of his emotions to her. He still cares, but his pain is deep.

  “Why are you here, Landy?” she asked barely above audible voice.

  His gaze jerked to hers. His ice-cold stare chilled her to the bone. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Rae Anne?” Landy poured himself another shot.

  “No, figured what out?”

  “I’ve been hired to captain your yacht.”

  Rae Anne stepped back. The already confusing situation was possibly taking a turn for the worse. Her elation at having Landy, the man she loved more than all others, man her ship disintegrated the moment he stormed out of the room in disgust. Fate had played a horrible joke on her and Landy for years, and she didn’t like it one bit. And the worse of it all, the love of her life hadn’t come looking for her when he returned. Nor did he care enough to even ask about such off-the-wall accusations. Instead, he trusted another source and let her believe he died. For years, she searched for the closure necessary to get over him. All the inquiries into his death, running down leads of any and all unnamed soldiers’ bodies she’d come across in her investigations were useless.

  No wonder no one found his remains. How do you find a corpse that isn’t a corpse? Now, the sight of him stirred more than just a feeling of hope. He put her on guard with his rejection and allegations. The glee she struggled with inside mellowed to confusion and became numbness. She loved the boy he was, but could she love the man he grew into today? This Landy is different. Not only had he grown up without her, but he had also gained a
crude language she found less than tolerable. His distance toward her marred the dream of his return.

  What happened to keep him from me all these years?

  She strolled out onto the deck in time to see his back fade into the darkness. He didn’t look over his shoulder in his departure, but he knew she stood watching. His erect posture attested to the fact.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee woke Landy from a restless sleep. The sound of a foghorn blowing in the distance perked that familiar eagerness to be at sea and surrounded by water on all sides, away from the hustle and bustle of the world. The rising sun dimly lit the Captain’s stateroom where he stored his gear the night before. Rae Anne Jamison-Carmichael. He sat up, looked around the room, and sighed. “Great! She’s the widowed, pampered princess I’m to escort all over the open seas.” He stood up and looked out the porthole window. “How in the hell am I going to get out of this one?” I can walk away. I’m on a voluntarily basis. It’s not like an order from the government.

  Landy walked onto the flybridge deck and looked out over the blue waters. The restless waves broke apart and sprayed the rocky reef. He loved the feel of the seawater’s spray on his face. The sea salt tasted like a woman in the throes of passion, and the spray reminded him of that release on his tongue when she came. He longed to feel that thick cream on his lips now. His cock twitched in anticipation of being inside a woman—not just any woman—but the one below deck, the one who hired his yacht service to man her vessel. What was he to do now? This has Roger Bassham written all over it. He has some gall. “A previous assignment, my ass.”

  Landy couldn’t dwell on the past. He needed to get away for awhile. His only solution was to treat this job as any other. Rae Anne is just another client. He turned the power on the control panel for a systems check of the motors. While the engines ran and warmed up, he headed to the galley for a cup of coffee. He found a full pot of java and poured himself a cup. The hot gourmet blend pleased his palate. “Hell of a far cry from that swill Amos gave me last night.”