by Lindy Corbin
“Please,” she began, not even sure what she was requesting. For him to move, perhaps. More likely for him to hold her close and tell her it was going to be all right.
“Shh.” His expression was suddenly tender, his eyes lit with concern, making them a smoky blue. “You’re safe with me.”
Kara swallowed. Safe was the last thing she felt when she was near him. Edgy, flustered, aware, alive, perhaps even intimidated. He was honed muscle and male grace. So different from Frank, whose brashness had sprung from his insecurities.
He reached for her, one hand going under her long pony tail to cup her nape. He bent his dark head toward her and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed across hers. She sighed against his mouth. She should pull away, but curiosity urged her to explore the differences between him and Frank. She would just allow this to go on for a moment, long enough to satisfy the questions she had about how good it would feel to be held by him.
Deliberately, she blanked her mind, pushing all images of flowers and wedding dresses from her. There was only Niko, filling her thoughts and revitalizing her with the touch of his sun-warmed skin against hers. She leaned into him, her hands running along his sides and around his back. Opening her palms wide against the soft fabric of his shirt, she felt the unyielding muscle underneath. His waist was narrow and firm where Frank was broad. Niko’s breath expanded in his chest as she ran her hands up to his shoulders then back down toward his lower back. There was no comparison on the width of the shoulders. No comparison period. Her fingers clenched in the material, wanting to lift it up and feel him warm and vital against her fingertips.
Tilting his head, he pressed his lips more firmly on hers, asking for permission to enter. His hot breath filled her mouth as she opened to his insistent motions, his tongue twined with hers.
Heat. That was all she thought and felt as she closed her eyes, blindly searching for the satisfaction that she’d been craving all day. Who was she kidding? All day? All her life. It had never been like this with Frank or anyone else.
She was lost, adrift on a sea of sensation. No sense of time or place, just the feel of Niko’s lips, the scorching heat of his body against hers, the rough abrasion of his hands as they skimmed against her clothes.
Spreading his legs further apart, he slid both hands down to her hips and pulled her into him. Pressed against him, his desire was obvious, heavy and hard against her thigh. She gasped against his lips as his physical reaction to her closeness sparked an answering spiral of warmth low in her abdomen. He broke the close contact of their mouths, tracing a path along her jaw to kiss the sensitive skin just under her ear. Sliding her fingers through his dark hair where it curled slightly at the nape, she wasn’t sure whether she intended to hold him there or pull him away so she could breathe.
Before she could decide, his lips settled on hers again, harder and more insistent. It was exactly what she wanted. She responded by slanting her head, allowing him deeper penetration. Gliding one hand along her rib cage, he cupped a heavy breast in his large hand, his thumb sliding inside the edge of her swimsuit to flick across the peak of her nipple. She moaned. She wanted him with a staggering intensity.
Here and now. On the sofa in the main cabin. On the floor if that’s where he wanted to take her.
It didn’t matter that Eduardo was on the deck and could walk back in at any time. Nor did it matter that the window shades were up and they could be seen from the surrounding boats. All that mattered was that Niko not stop touching her.
The thought shocked her into stillness. It didn’t make sense. This wasn’t her, this person filled with wanton needs and wild imaginings. She had fantasies, but that was all they were. Silly little imaginings, not something she would ever act upon or expect to happen to her. She was searching for a means to forget Frank. There was no other explanation for this sudden, compelling need to be close to this man, this stranger in every way.
She was using him.
A tide of guilt slowed her movements and she disentangled her fingers from his hair. Sensing the change in her, he raised his head, the glaze of passion in his eyes fading to wariness.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice husky. “I didn’t mean–”
He placed two warm fingers over her lips, stopping the words. “No. You did nothing. I started this.”
A loud thump sounded on the other side of the doors and the boat rocked slightly.
“Eduardo,” she heard George call. “I’m back.”
Smoothing the edge of her swimsuit top back in place with a gentle brush of his fingers, Niko released her with reluctance apparent in every movement and stepped back. She felt bereft as the coolness of the conditioned air replaced the scorching heat of his skin.
Abandoned.
It was ridiculous to feel that way when she’d wanted him to free her, but she couldn’t help the disappointment that engulfed her. It replaced her sensual haze with such speed she felt physically ill. She had to get away before she did something stupid like cry.
He reached to place one hand against her cheek, effectively stopping her retreat. “This is not over.”
His voice was smooth and held a depth of promise that stirred a response inside her. She wanted to believe him, but knew it was unfair to continue using him to soothe her own battered emotions. He’d been kind and compassionate toward her today, the perfect companion, filling her afternoon with pleasure on what should have been the worst day of her life.
As grateful as she was that he’d made the day bearable, it would be stupid to imagine it had been anything more than an attempt to distract her. He was no different from her father with his insistence that she take the day trip on the yacht. They were all trying to protect her when what she really needed was to wallow in the anguish, to accept the heartache and cry herself to sleep. She needed her girlfriends, a few of her favorite movies and gallons of strawberry ice cream.
She didn’t need a man. Especially not Niko.
She lifted her head and locked her gaze with the stormy blue of Niko’s eyes. “Yes, it is over. It definitely is.”
Chapter 5
Kara sat in the small galley and watched as Eduardo expertly breaded and pan-fried the fish and scallops that George had bought on the island. The soft whir of an exhaust fan wafted away the smells of cooking. Outside the small oval port hole, it was nearly dark, with the barest hint of light glinting on the unending blue blanket of ocean.
George leaned in the doorway of the small kitchen, one slim shoulder propped against the door jamb. Kara marveled that he was always so full of energy, laughing often and gesturing with his hands as he talked.
“He fish and fish,” he said as he pointed at Eduardo, “and he never catch.” He thumped his chest with one hand. “He send me to buy.” He reached to give a quick tug at the sleeve of Kara’s shirt, and winked at her, his smile wide, inviting her into his enjoyment of the moment. “He pretend he catch? Yes? But you come back too soon.”
Eduardo tilted his head and shot Kara a glance, good-natured humor tilting his lips, but didn’t deny the accusation.
She smiled back, her gaze moving between the two men. Even with the difference in their ages, they appeared to get along well. Eduardo, she’d learned, had four grown children and several grandchildren, so was comfortable dealing with young people. Calm, kind and a bit thick through the middle, it was hard to imagine him as a younger man, burning up the floor dance floor at Miami’s hottest night clubs as he’d claimed earlier today. “I think the scallops would have given him away. I can’t see Eduardo diving for them.”
The older man stroked his short salt-and-pepper beard then grinned. “You have me there. These last few years, I prefer to get my hook wet, not myself.”
It was amazing how comfortable she felt here, how much she was enjoying herself. Images of what should have been drifted at the edges of her consciousness. Herself in the beautiful champagne dress, dancing the father-daughter dance, cutting the cake and crying a small tear at th
e toasts. With brute force, she pushed them aside, focusing on the here and now.
The tantalizing smell of the dried herbs Eduardo had sprinkled on the fish before he’d battered it was filling the kitchen and probably drifting up the stairs. Niko was there, in the pilot house just off the main cabin. He’d been at the controls since they’d left the harbor, right after sunset. She suspected he was avoiding her.
It was easier this way. Seeing him was not something she looked forward to after the kiss they’d shared. Soon, she would be back at Sanibel. She could walk way and try to forget this day ever happened. Forget Niko and the feel of his skin on hers. Forget everything.
George moved to pour a glass of white wine and place it before her. The table where she sat was a neat innovation that slid into the cabinetry when not in use. When extended, it provided either additional room for food preparation in the small galley or a place where the crew ate while guests had their meal in the dining area upstairs. The chairs were lightweight metal, stackable and stored in a closet that doubled as a pantry. George took a glass of wine for himself and then moved back to his sentry position in the doorway.
Kara was grateful for the wine. She was beyond tired. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, then she and Niko had walked miles around the island. Sipping at the green-gold liquid, she leaned back and crossed one ankle over the other.
The slight scratch of the beaded anklet she wore caught her attention. She twisted her foot to look at it.
“Niko, he give you?” George asked, glancing at the small strap of fine rope and beads.
She nodded, a flush rising to her cheekbones as Eduardo turned to look as well, one eyebrow raised. “A man was making them on the pier.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it sounded plausible and was better than sparking their curiosity by admitting that Niko had asked the man to make it to his design.
“Is good. Like our protection against the evil eye.” George reached with one finger to pull at his lower eyelid then curled his other hand into a menacing claw, like an old crone or witch ready to attack. He swatted at her with his hand then fell back, one fist clutched to his chest as if struck by the invisible aura that protected her.
She nearly choked on her wine as she and Eduardo broke into laughter.
“We have the traditional evil eye talismans on board,” Eduardo put in softly. He pointed to a small ornament that hung in the port hole over the single sink. Made of glass in concentric circles of dark blue, white and light blue, the pupil of the eye was formed by a large black dot in the center. “There’s another in the pilot house. Some of the Maragos ships that port in Greece have them painted on their bow.”
“Do you believe it works?” she asked. It was hard to imagine that a simple blue-and-white piece of glass could be useful against harmful intentions.
He shrugged as he turned back to the stove and flipped over the fish in the pan he held with one hand. “There are many dangers on the sea.”
Frowning, she stared down at the simple jewelry around her ankle. “It doesn’t look that much like the evil eye charm,” she said. “The beads remind me more of flowers. I think it was just a memento of my trip.”
George exchanged a quick look with Eduardo, a frown edging across his fine features. “Niko, he never do without a reason.”
Kara felt uncomfortable for an instant, as if there was something she had missed in the conversation. Before she could question it, Eduardo spoke over his shoulder.
“My wife, Estelle, works for a wedding planner in Miami. She likes to study stories about marriage customs.”
Kara tensed, waiting for some comment on her failed wedding plans. As part of the crew that was supposed to be shepherding the honeymoon couple around the Caribbean, he couldn’t fail to remember the marriage hadn’t taken place. It didn’t seem in Eduardo’s nature to deliberately bring up a subject that would upset her, but you never knew.
“Does she?” she asked finally.
“She said once that the bracelet was the symbol of marriage in Ancient Egypt.” He made a gesture across his wrist. “Like a ring, it was round and endless, as a marriage should be. Married women wore two on their wrist.”
Kara relaxed a little at that innocent comment. At the same time, she stared down at her bare left hand that was more tanned than usual from the day spent in the Florida sun. It was odd to see her finger without the diamond engagement ring that Frank had given her. Odd that she hadn’t missed the weight of it on her hand today.
If she’d been married this evening, she’d be wearing the gold wedding band that she and Frank had picked out. What would he do with it now? Better yet, what would she do with his? It was unlikely the jewelry store would take his back since it had been altered to fit his hand. Pawning it seemed a bit cold-hearted, but seeing it in her jewelry box every morning would be a reminder that she didn’t need to face.
Eduardo continued, his tone deliberately casual. “In India, brides wear as many glass bracelets as they can get on their arms during the ceremony. It’s said that when the last glass bracelet is broken, the honeymoon is over.”
“Really.”
With a practiced move, he flipped the fish from the pan onto a waiting plate, his tone level. “I’ve always liked that one. I think I’ll give my daughter one of these bracelets as a gift when she marries.”
She forced a smile but didn’t answer. A marriage bracelet. Was Eduardo suggesting Niko intended something of the sort by his gift? Impossible. She was sure he’d meant it as a simple memento, one knotted in a pattern that he liked.
Of course, it could be a Greek charm. But if it was, what did Niko think she needed protection from? Or whom?
*
Niko sensed her presence immediately. He didn’t know whether it was her subtle perfume carried on the air or some small sound she made, but he knew the instant she stepped out on the deck. The ship was running with the minimum lighting required for safety, so it was dark. A sliver of moon overhead washed across the surfaces of the ship, leaving behind a faint silver sheen. He stood perfectly still, not sure whether to disturb her midnight wanderings.
“Can’t sleep since George took over from you?” she said.
He started in surprise at her words. He’d changed into dark slacks and tee-shirt and thought she couldn’t see him where he stood in the shadows against the bulkhead. Perhaps she was as attuned to him as he was to her.
Niko pushed away from the wall that blocked the aft deck from the sea spray and wind. “No. You?”
He barely saw the shake of her head. The same thought seemed to hang in the air between them; this was to have been her wedding night. By now, her guests would have been gone and she and Frank would be alone. Sharing. Touching. Celebrating life.
The jealousy that rose within him was as inevitable as the ebb and flow of the tides. He wanted to be the man on her mind, the one that kept her from sleeping. He’d known it from the moment he took her in his arms in the night club on Sanibel. The question was whether she would acknowledge the draw of the attraction between them.
Kara moved to sit on the edge of the padded bench that was farthest away from him. The light picked up her movements, draping her in shades of gray and white that reminded him of scenes from old movies. Her hair was loose and flowing around the shoulders of the light gray jacket she wore. Her tan shorts almost blended into the shadows thrown by the cushions and pillows beside her. Her head was turned and he couldn’t see her face, but his body knew her, reacting with a hard, fast tightening of muscles. He stepped across the smooth teak decking and dropped down beside her, close enough to be heard over the rushing of damp air around them, but not so near that he’d make her uneasy.
There was a brief flash as she checked the illuminating dial on her watch. “It’s nearly one o’clock. Didn’t you say we’d be back to Sanibel by midnight?”
It was a deliberate attempt to diffuse the tension between them. For a moment, he wanted to resist, wanted to talk about the wedding, to force he
r to see her relationship with Frank from a male point of view. She wasn’t ready. She needed more time away from him to regain perspective.
Never one to avoid the inevitable, he sucked in a deep breath before he spoke. “We’re not going back tonight.”
“What?” She jumped to her feet. “Where are we going?”
He stood more slowly, closing the distance between them, standing next to, but not quite touching her. “Nassau.”
“The Bahamas?” Her voice was high, cracking on the words. “Why?”
“Because you and I have unfinished business.”
Kara wrapped her arms around her chest as if a chill had spread across her skin, even with the light jacket she had on. “I’m not going. Turn this ship around right now and take me back.”
He shook his head slowly. “Before we left Sanibel, your father charged me with doing what’s best for you. I don’t believe you’re ready to go back yet.”
“You don’t–” She broke off as words failed her. “I am a grown woman, not a child.” Her tone was low, fast and furious. “I decide what I’m ready to do. Not my father. Not any man. Especially not you.”
“Why especially me?”
She ignored the question. “Do you have any idea how this will look to my family?” She moved away from him, turning to pace across the deck between the low sofas that edged each wall. “By now, they’ll all have heard about the woman in the back of the Hummer. They’ll think Frank got cold feet, but when I don’t come back, they’ll start to wonder what else might be going on. What exactly I’m doing here with you.”
“And what are you doing here with me?”
“Nothing.” She flung her hand out toward him in a gesture of frustration. “You know it wasn’t my choice. You, Dad and Elaina put your heads together and decided on this little trip. Dad said one day was all I needed. One day and it will be over. It will be just that easy.”
