She laughed as she sat up and reached for her bikini. The little macaque monkey had shown up their very first day on the island. Tango—a fitting name given his terrorist tactics—had become both a source of amusement and a pest. “He just wants to play.”
“Then why can’t he dance for his bananas like any other monkey?” he grumbled while, overhead, Tango screeched with glee. “Get down here you little creep. It’s past time you had an attitude adjustment.”
Val tied up her loose bikini strings and reached into her beach bag for the banana she’d brought just in case the monkey showed up. “Okay, you do realize you’re trying to reason with a monkey, right?” She’d learned early on that she’d better have a treat for Tango or he’d continue to lob his coconuts like hand grenades.
“Here you go, Tango.” She made coaxing noises and held out her hand.
Seeing the banana, the monkey scrambled down the tree, then sat a safe three yards away, eyes on the prize.
“He’s going to bite you,” Luke warned.
“Only if I don’t give him what he wants.” She tossed the banana.
Tango skuttled over on all fours, snatched it on the fly then scampered back to the palm tree, scaling it like a cockroach scaling a wall.
“Just like a man,” she said with a teasing smile. “Gets what he wants then hits the road.”
“Not this man.” Luke leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. “I know a good thing when I see it. You’re stuck with me, Princess. Better get used to it.”
Oh, she planned to. And, oh, how she loved this man.
He kissed her hard then rose to his feet. All six, glorious, naked feet of him.
“I’m going to go get wet. Save my spot. And you,” he shook a finger at Tango, who was happily munching away. “Stay away from my woman.”
Val leaned back on her elbows and watched him walk toward the gentle surf. She felt a renewed stirring of arousal as the sunlight played over his tanned back and lean hips then danced over the flex of muscle as his powerful legs propelled him into a shallow dive.
He was like a fish in the water. Fluid and fast and in his element. Only the scar slashing from high on his ribs to low on his abdomen reminded her how vulnerable he really was. And how afraid she sometimes was for him.
She’d married a warrior. A former Navy SEAL. A medic. Now a key member of Black Ops, Inc., a covert paramilitary team that ‘unofficially’ worked for the U.S. government, taking on missions that were too hot for the sanctioned government agencies to handle.
Danger came with the territory. She was still reconciling herself to that fact, counting on his strength and his skills and his team to keep him coming home to her. And she was working on being a woman worthy of his devotion.
She wrapped her arms around her up-drawn knees and watched as he swam steadily back toward her with sure, commanding strokes. And she wished she hadn’t let him down. Snorkeling was a stretch for her but, she’d swallowed back her claustrophobia and, for him, she’d done it. Had even started to enjoy it.
But scuba—she expelled a sigh of defeat and lowered her head onto her crossed forearms. Scuba had been her downfall. She’d tried. She’d really tried . . . but the mask, the mouthpiece, the bubbles blowing past her face, keeping track of her air, the weight of the belts and the tanks, and the fathomless depths and darkness of the water all joined forces against her.
Three times she’d tried. Three times she’d felt the pressure start to build in her chest, the nausea rise to her throat, and the memories of her abduction surged back like it was yesterday. She was a terrified ten year old again. Back in that root cellar. Alone with the rats. And the bugs. And the endless, horrifying darkness.
And the fear that she’d worked for years to combat, would grab her by the throat, seize her lungs, and the next thing she knew she was in a full blown panic.
Thank God Luke had been right by her side. Guiding her to the surface. Praising her for her bravery. Lulling her into believing she wasn’t the biggest coward known to mankind.
“Hey.”
She snapped her head up, startled to see him standing in front of her, dripping with salt water.
“Hey,” he repeated with gentle concern and dropped to his knees. “Where were you, Princess? What’s with the tears?” He reached out, tenderly brushed his thumb over her cheek.
“Happy tears,” she lied and put on her game face. “I’m just so happy to be here with you.” That much was the truth.
He searched her face. She looked away when she saw that he knew she was fudging. Nothing got past this man.
“You’re beating yourself up again over the scuba diving, aren’t you?”
Apparently her silence was answer enough.
“Val.” He cupped her face between his big hands and made her look at him. “It’s okay. Hell, our boy, Reed, self-professed toughest, kick-ass warrior of the universe, is scared to death of spiders. We all have fears. Scuba is not everyone’s cuppa. And you, of all people, have more reason to have trouble with it than most. Yet you tried. I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life. You should be proud, too.”
He was the most amazing man. Only Luke could turn her failure into a victory.
She covered his hands with hers, leaned forward and kissed him.
“So . . . Johnny Duane Reed.” She smiled, thinking of the blond Adonis bad boy. “Arachnophobia? Seriously?” There was something deliciously comforting thinking about the former Recon Marine and Luke’s team mate at BOI squealing like a girl at the sight of a spider.
“Yeah, I thought you’d like that picture,” he said, grinning. “But you didn’t hear it from me, okay? He’d kick my ass from here to next year if he knew I’d been telling stories out of school.”
“My lips are sealed.”
He sat back on his heels, apparently satisfied that he’d dragged her out of her funk. “So . . . our last day, huh? What do you want to do with the rest of it?”
She’d be perfectly content to while away the hours right here on the sand. But she knew what he wanted to do.
“Let’s snorkel that little cove . . . the one that’s intrigued you ever since we arrived.”
His eyes lit up. “Seriously?”
“You’ve got my curiosity piqued.”
He’d been looking through the binoculars and checking it out ever since they’d first walked down from the house and viewed their temporary new home from the beach.
Their island was small and mostly jungle that gave way to this beautiful beach that curved in a graceful horseshoe on the question mark shaped island. The cove that so interested him was at the tail of the question mark, about a hundred yards away.
“Why don’t you go get our gear,” she suggested, encouraging him. She knew he was worried that she really didn’t want to go. “We need to get going before high tide starts moving in.
“And put some swim trunks on, would you?” she added when he still hesitated. “I don’t want any curious fishies mistaking my favorite dangly parts for dinner.”
He laughed and pushed to his feet. “Since they’re my favorite dangly parts, too, I’m happy to oblige. Be right back.”
Chapter 3
The water temp was a sweet eighty-plus degrees, the visibility at least one-hundred feet as Luke and Val snorkeled their way toward the cove. Color exploded around them as schools of clown and zebra fish darted among the seagrass and rocks scattered along the sandy floor of the cozy bay. A lumbering, fat-lipped grouper nosed lazily along the bottom.
Beside him, Val was doing great. He’d made certain they stopped often and just floated, heads up, to give her a break from the confinement of the mask. The last thing he wanted to do was push her too hard . . . especially now that she was doing so well.
God, he was proud of her as she resettled her mask again, adjusted her mouth piece and bravely went face down for another look. Even though he could tell she was enjoying herself to a degree, she was still tense but pushing through her claustrophobia.
He quickly caught up with her and touched her arm directing her attention to a school of rainbow trigger fish that flitted in and out of the sea grass then swam out of sight.
It took them a little over thirty minutes to reach the part of the cove that had captured his interest. As they neared the end of the land mass, the water grew so shallow they could both touch bottom, so they stood for a moment, and tugged their masks below their chins.
This tip of the island wasn’t as sheltered from the wind as their little bay so they had to brace against the waves washing in from the bigger water and rocking against them with more force.
“Beautiful,” Val said, sounding a little breathless from the exertion of their swim and the stunning view.
The water kissing the shore was an amazing aqua blue but shifted and gradually deepened to a saturated marine where it headed out to open ocean. The wind was also stronger out here and had whipped up a little foam where water met a shore made mostly of black, lava-like rocks interspersed with sand.
“So . . . worth the trip?” Val asked, latching on to his arm for balance when a wave slapped up against her.
“Any trip with you is worth it,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Damn, he never got tired of kissing her. “Why don’t you go perch on that big, flat rock and feed my mermaid fantasy while I nose around . . . see if I can find any evidence that there really was a ship loaded with gold doubloons that sank off this point.”
She smirked. “Seriously? What guide for suckers have you been reading?”
“Hey.” He took a stab at looking offended but knew his grin minimized the impact. “You wound me. I don’t fall for that tourist crap. I got this intel straight from a guy with an eye patch, a peg leg and a parrot.”
“Oh. Well. In that case, it must be legit. So go find me some treasure.”
“Greedy wench.”
“Damn betcha.”
He took her hand, helping her maneuver the rocky bottom and get settled on the rock. Since he’d be wading as much as anything else, he slipped out of his flippers and handed them to her. “Be right back.”
Val watched her hunky husband—she was still getting used to that term—alternately snorkel then wade through the shallow water and thought, I am the luckiest woman on earth. This man loved her. This man protected her. This man accepted her for what she could bring to the relationship and for what she couldn’t. She was already stronger because of him. Not strong enough, but she was getting there.
Baby steps, Val, she reminded herself. If he could be patient with her, then she could be patient with herself.
She drew her knees to her chest and hugged her arms around them, squinting against the brilliant sun. Luke had wandered a good twenty yards away. She watched him, spellbound as he rose like an Adonis in the chest-deep surf, water cascading off his golden shoulders, sunlight glinting through his hair.
“Are we rich yet?” she called out.
When he didn’t hear her, she realized that the wind had picked up enough that the surf sounds had risen and drowned her out.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and tried again.
This time he turned, gave her a crooked grin and a thumbs down.
“Maybe we’d better head back.” She felt a sudden uneasiness with the increasing chop. And their little beach suddenly seemed like a long swim away.
“Couple more minutes, okay?” Then he disappeared again, only the tip of his snorkel visible above the surface of the increasingly undulating water.
He was like a kid in the proverbial candy store around water. She wished she felt as comfortable in it. Determined to stay relaxed, she lowered her head to her knees and focused on the soothing sound of the gulls, the slap of the surf against the rocks, the rustle of the wind through the palms further up on the shore and let time drift lazily away. Her head came up abruptly though, when a wave washed up and doused her toes.
The tide was coming in fast, she realized, looking around and realizing her once dry perch would soon be covered in water.
She looked for Luke. Told herself not to panic when she didn’t immediately spot him, then breathed a huge sigh of relief when his head broke the surface about ten yards away.
“Okay, fish boy. Play time’s over. The tide’s coming in.”
“That’s fish man to you, lady.” His manufactured scowl made her laugh. “There’s one more spot I want to check out. I saw a really nice golden cowrie wedged between a couple of rocks. You’re going to love it.”
And he was gone again. After a shell. She sighed then went to work getting back into her flippers.
Good to his word, a few seconds later, his hand emerged triumphantly from the water, his fingers wrapped around the shell. His head followed. And his grin out shown the sun.
“Is this a treasure or what?” He looked very pleased with himself.
Yeah, she thought. This moment was, for a fact, a treasure.
“You ready to go now?” She grabbed her mask, dipped it into the water to rinse the salt residue off the lens and settled it on top of her head.
He was already wading toward her as she eased into the choppy water that had once been chest deep but now came up to her chin. “Yes, ma’am. But I expect you to thank me real nice for—whoa!”
She’d been concentrating on her footing and her balance against a fairly strong undercurrent when his sudden yelp brought her head up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Um . . . not sure yet. I slipped. My foot’s caught. Hold on.”
A little ripple of alarm skittered through her body. Fighting the current, she half waded, half paddled over to him.
“Did you get it?”
He handed her the shell. “Not yet. Don’t suppose you’ve got any butter on you? Oh wait, we used it all up last night.”
“This is not funny,” she said as the ripple of alarm turned into a tidal wave.
“No,” he agreed, all trace of humor gone. “It’s not. What it is, is stupid. I can’t believe I let this happen.”
He drew in a deep breath then ducked under the surface. Val watched through the crystal clear water as he latched on to the rock that trapped his foot about four inches above his ankle, wedging his foot tight against another rock. And as strong as he was, the rock wasn’t budging.
Finally he surfaced, gasping for air, a grim, angry look on his face.
“Maybe we can move it together.” She tossed the shell aside. It sank slowly to the bottom. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
Her gaze locked on his, she waited for his nod, then drew in a breath and dove. The both tugged and shoved and pulled and pushed. And got nothing. No movement. Not even an inkling that the heavy black stone might move. If anything his ankle seemed to be wedged in tighter.
Luke latched on to her arm and dragged her to the surface with him.
She sucked in air and tried to catch her breath.
She was scared now. Good and scared. The wind was still picking up. The waves were getting stronger. The water getting deeper. It was lapping over her mouth. Up to Luke’s armpits. And it was rising fast.
“We need something to pry the rock free. Something to give us a little leverage,” Luke said, his voice calm as he scanned the shoreline.
Beside him, Val willed herself to follow his lead. To keep her composure. But her mind was racing and she fought a terrifying image of the water rising above his head. Of him drowning before they could get him free.
“Do you see anything?” she asked abruptly, tearing her thoughts away from that picture.
He shook his head. “’Fraid not. Let’s give it another try. On three, okay?”
She nodded, then dove down with him one more time.
And one more time they accomplished nothing . . . except to make him bleed. He’d pulled so hard, the rock had gouged his skin.
And now a new threat lurked in the shadows of her mind, haunting her.
Sharks.
Oh, God. Sharks could smell blood from miles away
.
“Keep it together,” Luke said, gripping her shoulders gently when they surfaced. “I need you to keep it together for me now, Princess. You with me?”
She nodded. Yeah, she was with him. And more terrified than ever because she could see in his eyes that he knew his life was in grave danger.
Chapter 4
Holy Mary and all the vestal virgins, Luke thought. He’d screwed up royally.
All because he’d wanted to show off for Val. Bring her back something special. A remembrance of their special time in this special place.
Well, dumbass, it doesn’t get more special than this.
He mentally calculated how long they’d been out here. Best estimate, based on the sun, about forty-five minutes plus the half-hour or so it had taken them to swim this far. The tide had risen six inches since then. It was up to his armpits now. That meant another twelve inches and his nose would be under water. That gave him an hour and a half . . . give or take . . . to get himself unstuck.
Only, he already knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not without a pry bar. Or an act of God. He wasn’t banking on either showing up any time soon.
“Let’s try again,” Val said, looking and sounding determined to keep desperation at bay.
“On three,” he said, because, damn, there weren’t a lot of options.
They both went under. Both tugged and shoved and grunted and failed.
“It’s no good,” he said on a gasp as they surfaced. “That sucker’s not budging.”
She floated up against him, breathless, wrapped her arms around his neck and held him so tight his heart broke. “What are we going to do?”
“Well,” he said, gripping her around the waist and setting her back away from him. “I’m going to hang around here and work on my tan.”
“Stop it!”
“Sorry,” he said, reacting to her frustration. “Here’s what has to happen.” He brushed the wet hair out of her eyes, determined to show her calm, steady confidence when the truth was, he knew they were running out of time. “You’re going to swim back to the beach.”
SEAL of My Dreams Page 16
