ESCAPE INTO ROMANCE- 4 Book Bundle

by Patrice Wilton

  She shot him a glance out of narrowed eyes. “I told you it’s not about revenge, but adventure. Just think, Harry. It’ll be a hell of an adventure.”

  He spat downwind. “Right. Whatever you say.” He spoke through clenched teeth, “You’re the boss lady.”

  Maddi jumped up to refill their coffee cups, then bestowed upon him one of her sunniest smiles. She asked pleasantly, “What’s new on the island? Any more activity?”

  “Before we set out I checked the latest reports. The volcano’s lava dome has grown to dangerous levels. It’s coughing clouds of gray ash, covering buildings, cars, and trees across the island.” He peeled a banana and ate half before concluding, “Constant activity has been reported for the past two weeks, and the scientists are saying that it could blow anytime.” He yawned, as if bored. “So you see, you will be in for quite an adventure.”

  She stood up to watch the wake behind the boat and caught the end of the sunrise, a pinkish reflection in the swirling water. “I don’t want to put you in any danger, so maybe if you could get the boat someplace close, I could take it the rest of the way. What’s the nearest island?”

  “Maddi,” he sighed heavily. “You paid me a king’s ransom to get it there, and get it there I will.” He took one step closer, and was so close she had no choice but to tilt back her head to see his face. “I still hope to be able to change your mind.”

  Standing next to him, chests only just missing each other, she could almost taste the mocha java on his breath. And feel his body-heat. What was he doing? Using his sex appeal to save the boat from extinction? Hell, he didn’t know her well enough.

  “Not likely,” she answered, and teased with a smile. “But you can always keep trying.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Why not sell me the boat?” Harry persisted. “She’s top notch. World class.”

  “This will hurt him more.”

  He uttered a curse. “I was afraid you might say that.”

  Carrying her coffee, she strolled around the starboard deck to get away from Harry’s disapproval, and her own guilt. But that awful feeling that she just might be wrong followed her every step. Returning to the galley, she found Harry half asleep, slumped in a chair.

  “You look exhausted.”

  “I am.” He stood up and stretched. “With the westward winds at ten knots, the sails and autopilot set, you should have no trouble at all.”

  “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  He yawned. “The weather report predicts a smooth day of sailing, but if there’s any change, give me a shout. I just need to crash for a few hours. Then I’ll be good as new.”

  “I’m got it covered. Don’t worry about a thing.” She waved him away.

  For three hours nothing happened. Then, subtly, the wind began to shift.

  First the jib sail began to flutter. She let out a little more sheet and lengthened the gin pole. Things were fine for awhile, then the jib backed slightly and began to flap. She tightened the main sheet so the main sail was perpendicular to the northeast wind.

  But the wind shifted faster than she could handle. Without warning, the boat jibed. The mainsail and boom swung violently from one side of the boat to the other, just as Harry’s head appeared out of the companionway. He ducked, but the boom grazed the top of his head, knocking him off his feet.

  Maddi screamed. “Are you all right?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, and she felt a moment’s dread. What if was incapacitated, and she had to sail it alone? “Harry, answer me.”

  He replied groggily, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just nicked me, thank God.”

  Struggling to his feet, he reached for the mainsheet winch and reeled it in so the boat couldn’t jibe again. “You should have called me when the wind picked up.”

  “I was handling everything just fine until a minute ago.” Like a pro, she released the starboard sheet and tightened the port sheet as the jib slid across the bow.

  Harry adjusted the mainsheet, and the boat was back under control. “You’re a stubborn woman, Maddi Clemmons,” he said with a frown. But his eyes twinkled.

  “Exactly right. So sit down and let me tend to your wound.”

  She ran down the companionway and found the first-aid kit. Returning a moment later, she had to force him to sit. “Don’t be such a tough guy.” She dabbed some rubbing alcohol onto his open wound with a dry swab.

  “Ouch.” He winced. “That hurt.”

  “Baby,” she teased. “Hold still and let me clean it good.”

  He did as he was told. Leaning into him, she dabbed gently, soaking up the blood, before applying a three-inch sterile pad around the wound. While attending to him, her breasts dangled inches from his chin. Too late, she realized he was enjoying the view.

  “Hey! What are you looking at?” She smacked his head. “I thought you were injured, not a peeping Tom.”

  “Injured. Not dead. And I wasn’t exactly peeking. You had them waving in my face.”

  “How was I supposed to put a bandage on your forehead and not get within inches of you?” She dared him to glance down again. If he did, she’d let him have it.

  He did. His gaze traveled slowly the length of her and back up again. She felt heat rise from deep inside that female core of hers, all the way to the roots of her hair.

  “You look at me like that anymore, and you’re fired.”

  Laughing, he closed his eyes. While he wasn’t looking she dropped a kiss on his bandaged head, then fled.

  * * *

  On the third day, they had their first argument. Later it seemed foolish, but at the time they were ready to pull hairs. Harry wanted the fresh dolphin for dinner, and she said if she ever saw another fish she’d throw up.

  He ate the sautéed delicate white filet, topped with a tangy lime-butter sauce, while she sat through a huge bowl of pasta noodles, forcing each bite. She’d cooked half the package of angel hair, and tossed it with a light olive oil and pine-nut dressing, but her mouth had watered at the sight of the fish. Taste buds that she didn’t even know she had, stood at full alert. Suddenly, she craved the fish, just a small piece on top of her fine noodles, but he didn’t offer, and she didn’t ask.

  When he cleaned up the dishes, she snapped, “What do you think you’re doing? You just threw out the rest of that fish. Are you out of your mind?”

  Maddi marched over to the garbage and carefully picked it out, then turned on the faucet to wash it off. She was so angry, she was almost shaking. “Look at that. Coffee grounds. You, you—how could you?”

  Harry looked as shocked as if he’d just been slapped. “What are you talking about? We don’t need to keep that little piece. We can get some more tomorrow. Lest you forget, we have a rather enormous fish-tank right in front of us.” He scratched his head. “Thought you couldn’t stand the sight of it, anyhow.”

  “I didn’t mean it. I did this morning, but not tonight. I wanted some but you didn’t even offer me a bite.” Angry tears filled her eyes. “Not one bite! You ate the whole damn thing.”

  “Maddi? Are you crying over a piece of fish?”

  “No.” She clenched her fists, fighting for control. “Of course not.”

  “Then what are you crying over?”

  “I don’t know.” She folded her arms under her breasts and pouted. “I want to see land. I want to walk around. I want to play tennis, or golf, or go shopping. I want off this damn boat.”

  He smiled. “We’ll be on dry land in a day or two. It won’t be Manhattan, sweetheart, but your feet will touch ground.”

  * * *

  Doldrums. Maddi had always thought of it as a state of mind, but now that she was in one, the word took on a whole new meaning. They weren’t getting anywhere. She felt bored, restless. Harry was neither. He said it was ‘the calm before the storm.’

  She didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t relish being on a boat out at sea in any damn storm. But it was a tropical depression they were headed into, not a hurricane. S
he almost looked forward to getting into it, so they could get out of it, and carry on to Montserrat, and get off the damn boat.

  Instead they were stuck at sea, waiting, waiting, for something to happen. Suddenly, the wind picked up and the sky turned gray. The radar screen showed dark rain-shower spots everywhere, though so far they’d avoided everything but a few drops. But they were ready, with the foul weather gear handy.

  Harry had been resting when the boat started to tack. Within seconds they were flat on their side. Maddi screamed, and Harry came running.

  The keel was full out on the leeward side, the headsail backed, and the main was also backed and windward. Harry got the boat stabilized, then jibed back around to their original heading.

  “Something’s wrong with the autopilot,” he complained. “We might have to sail it manually the rest of the way in.”

  Within a few hours, Maddi wished they were back in the calm. The wind blew about twenty-two knots, and the boat heaved up and down like a bronco horse over some pretty heavy swells. The seas were breaking over the bow, the spray reaching the windows of the cabin as they crashed over the waves.

  The National Hurricane Center tagged the area as a tropical depression, but hours later upgraded it to a tropical storm. As winds reached forty-five miles per hour, the Beneteau rocked and rolled.

  CHAPTER NINE

  David had to shove his hands in his pockets and keep them there. With a will of their own, they longed to wring John Dansforth’s neck.

  The dock master of the marina ran oil-stained hands through his reddish hair, and stroked his shaggy beard. “Don’t know what to tell you, Dr. Clemmons. We had to release the boat. Your wife had the proper documentation and was within her rights to move it. She offered to pay us for the year’s lease, but because we were led to believe that you were incapacitated, we only asked for six months.”

  “Very generous of you, considering.”

  The sarcasm was not lost on John Dansforth, but he chose to ignore it. “Under the circumstance, it was.”

  “Okay.” David swore under his breath. “Let’s cut to the chase. I want my boat back, and I need to know where the hell she took it. Somebody, somewhere, must have seen this boat. It’s not just a run-of-the-mill sloop.”

  The senior dock master nodded. “Yes, sir, I understand. Actually we got a call from someone this morning. Said the boat was headed for a particular destination, but we talked about it some and decided it was a hoax. No one would take it there.”

  “Why the hell not?” David hollered. “Tell me. Where did the bitch take it?”

  “Please, sir. Calm down. Not a captain in the world would take the boat there. The island—”

  “What about the island?” David interrupted. “Where is it?”

  “Montserrat.”

  “Montserrat? I don’t understand. That island’s been wiped out. Big volcanic eruption destroyed the place a few years back.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Most of the non-residents have fled, but a few islanders remain. A couple of thousand to be exact.”

  “She wouldn’t have taken it there.” He heard the quiver in his voice, and swallowed hard, forcing down his rising panic. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “That’s what we thought. We’re sure the boat isn’t headed there.” He handed David a multi-page printout of the GVP/USGS Weekly Volcanic Activity Report.

  “What’s all this?”

  “The latest recorded activity. Looks like that volcano still has some life in it.”

  David quickly read the report, noticing his hand was shaking. “I’ve got to get to Montserrat right away. I’ll need a private plane and a pilot.”

  * * *

  It was Harry’s idea to take the boat to St. Kitts for repairs. The autopilot hadn’t worked properly since the storm. St. Kitts, he said, was an easy one-day sail from Montserrat. They arrived the following day and Harry made some inquiries, and found someone who could do the work on the Beneteau’s navigational system.

  Maddi wore a tank top and jean shorts, with her hair pulled up in a short ponytail. She’d dressed early, anxious to be back on land.

  “While you fix the boat I’m going to have a look around town. Don’t worry if I’m not back in a couple of hours.” She stretched her legs, feeling the muscles tight. “I’m just so thankful to be able to walk around again.”

  “Have a good time.”

  “Tonight, I’m going to treat you to the finest dinner in town, so don’t be cooking.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” he grinned. “See you later.”

  She waved, then headed up the street away from the marina, in search of touristy treasure shops. She was looking for something in particular. Something that would make the Beneteau stand out from other boats. Something unusual, easily identifiable. When David came looking, she wanted people to remember seeing it.

  St. Kitts was a spectacular island, with lush emerald-green hills and breath-taking beaches. Her first reaction to the island was how romantic it looked. Perfect for lovers. A wonderful honeymoon spot. Perhaps, if she’d been more agreeable, she’d be here with her husband, instead of with Harry.

  It had taken her some time to admit that she’d made mistakes in her marriage, that it hadn’t been entirely David’s fault. Supposedly, that was growth. She owned up to some wrong-doing—not a lot, but some. And while she would give anything to be able to go back a year and change them, this fast-paced life didn’t offer second chances.

  Many lonely nights, she’d lay awake, thinking how she’d blown it. But by the light of the morning, she’d conclude that David was the real culprit. He hadn’t tried to fix what was wrong between them; he’d just gone out and found himself a replacement. Damn him and damn her. She kicked at the ground. Damn them both.

  She was not above revenge. Not too high and mighty to get even.

  She thought about Montserrat and the Beneteau, picturing it buried under a ton of ash, and her heart lightened and her steps became springier. She walked around the town of Basseterre, diving in and out of the tourist shops. Speaking with one of the shopkeepers about volcanoes, she learned that St. Kitts had in its central mountain a volcanic peak, Mount Liamuiga. The shop owner informed her that at one time it was called Mount Misery.

  How appropriate that would be. Good Times Ahead buried in molten lava from Mount Misery. Just the thought made her tingly inside.

  Oh, well. It was not to be. Montserrat would have to do. Still, it gave her an idea of how to make the Beneteau truly memorable.

  Finding photos of Mount Misery did not take long. She wondered about the logistics of making a decal from a picture, and decided it might be worth the stay. A day or two wouldn’t matter in the scheme of things. And she was in no hurry to get back on that boat and back out to sea.

  Harry had made the most of the day. Once the repairs had been taken care off, he’d gone on shore to buy a fresh shirt for the night and a new pair of shorts. He’d had his hair trimmed, had taken a long shower, shaved, put on a dab of cologne, and was waiting on deck when Maddi returned.

  She stopped when she saw him, and grinned. “Hey, don’t you clean up good.”

  He bowed. “Thank-you. I try.” Then he surprised her with a gift. “For you.”

  “For me?” Her eyes lit up. “What is it?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  She tore the wrapping off and found a sundress inside. It was the prettiest thing she’d seen in a long time, and tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Harry, it’s beautiful. Thank-you.” She held it up against her. “I hope it fits.”

  “I’m pretty sure it will. It’s extra small, just like you.”

  The dress, a sunny, butter-cup shade, fit her perfectly. It had a halter-top, a low back, fit snuggly over her hips and flared gently above the knees.

  He whistled when he saw her. “I did choose well.”

  She blew him a kiss. “Yes, you did.” She twirled around, giving him an eyeful. “It’s great to be clean and feel pretty
again.”

  “You’re always pretty. I’ve seen you in the morning, and at the worst possible times. You always look good to me.”

  “Don’t say that, Harry, or I’ll have to fire you, and I don’t have anyone else to sail the boat.”

  They locked up the boat, and went in search of a restaurant, stumbling on one that boasted Texas steaks and fries. Just the sight of the menu had them groaning with pleasure. They ordered Caesar salads before their meal, it came cool and crisp, and they enjoyed every bite.

  She told him the story of Mount Misery, and how she found a picture in the library and had a photocopy made. “A sign shop in town is making us up a couple of decals. They will be ready in the morning, and I’d like to put them on the tail of the boat.”

  “Maddi, you are something else.” Taking hold of her hand, he turned the palm upwards, planted a kiss, then lazily began to stroke his thumb over the pads of her fingers to the sweet center.

  He gave her fingers a final squeeze before letting them go. “You know, you don’t often see such fine craftsmanship on a boat as this one, and the electronics alone are worth a small fortune. You could buy a damn nice house for what you’d get for her.”

  “Don’t need it,” she said. “I have a nice house.”

  He gritted his teeth. “A better one then, or an apartment somewhere. One on Park Avenue, or right here. How about your own villa in St. Kitts?”

  She smiled. “Nope. I don’t think so.”

  “You sure you want to destroy her, Maddi?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m quite sure.” Her voice softened in spite of her resolve. “David will be devastated, of course. And that’s what I want. To hurt him the way he hurt me.”

  “I understand, but is this the way to go about it?”

  “He planned to live on it with his girlfriend, who is also pregnant with his child.” Her face grew hard. “This was his retirement plan.”

  Harry’s face sagged, and he looked ten years older. “So, Montserrat it is,” he said sadly.

  * * *

  David hired a pilot with a Twin Otter to fly him to Montserrat. They were to leave at six AM. At four-thirty, he had a phone call.