Then another man’s voice: I didn’t think it was that bad up here. And it’s easier to move around without one.
Easier to get your ass knocked out of the boat, too! Get it on!
Chase wanted to go with the conversation and the memory, but he had to focus on his own situation. No way could he turn around now. It was coming back, he could feel it. Kissing Maddie had started the pieces, and sailing into the storm was going to bring the rest.
His thin slicker didn’t begin to keep the warm water from soaking him. A wave pitched the boat sideways, but she picked herself up. Only to be lifted to another crest and dropped back into another trough. Too fast, an internal voice said. Slow her down. He dragged himself across the deck, getting slammed into the mast by another wave. What he wanted was to go faster, but he knew the boat’s limits and knew this wasn’t the boat to risk.
After what seemed like hours, he reefed in the mainsail, but the boat was still thrusting through the water. The boat crested and dropped again. Flashes of memories flitted through his mind as he put a second reef into the main. Nothing specific, just scenes of fighting a storm worse than this. The certainty that you were going to die, the regret of it and the honor of it.
Dying at sea is an honorable thing.
Someone else’s voice echoed and faded.
He’d already furled the genoa. Now he tried to bank on the storm jib. An instinctual voice guided him. He made his way forward, only to have a wave pick up the boat and slam it onto her beam ends. The mast dipped into the waves, and Chase went into the water. He hadn’t even had a chance to take a breath before water engulfed him.
His hands clamped onto the safety jacks on the deck. He was jerked back as the boat righted herself. His heart was pounding, and his body ached where he’d landed on the deck. He lived for this stuff.
He worked his way forward again and set the storm jib. Between the rain and low, heavy skies, he couldn’t make out the horizon at all. It was all gray and bleak. Everything about it felt right and familiar. After a third reef in the mainsail, the boat was under control again. A condition, Chase knew, that could be temporary at best.
He thought about setting the autopilot, but he wanted to control the boat. In a moment of calm, he snugged the wheel brake and slipped down the companionway to get a pair of gloves he’d stowed there earlier. Down in the cabin, the pounding of the waves was lessened but no less threatening. He might as well have been in a barrel racing over Niagara Falls. Which seemed an appropriate analogy when the boat pitched again.
He climbed back onto the deck and grabbed hold of the wheel, releasing the brake. The gloves helped his grip, though they weren’t the appropriate ones to use for sailing. Kitchen rubber gloves, he remembered. Combined with leather outer gloves, that was the best combination.
Adrenaline surged through him as yet another piece locked into place. Just tiny pieces, though. He’d have to spend a week out here at this rate to remember everything. But it wasn’t rock and roll he heard, or country music, as he dashed through the waves. In all the music he’d searched for cues, he hadn’t thought about classical. But there it was, a soundtrack to the wind and rain and adrenaline: Mozart or maybe Mahler.
He worked the boat upwind, adjusting as needed. He let out a triumphant scream. This was his life. Now he just needed the rest of it.
Another piece came with suddenness. The struggle he’d remembered before, and the woman’s scream. He held on tight when the boat crested and dropped. Held onto the wheel and the memory. His insides froze, and some part of him wanted to push it away. He could feel the shock and violence that accompanied the memory.
He heard rain pelting the deck and sails, angry screams. He was struggling with something. No, someone. The boat pitched, sending them across the deck and against the cockpit. But he couldn’t see whom he was fighting. Then he saw the woman staggering backward and hitting her head against a winch.
His own boat pitched sideways, throwing him out of the memory. He was too stunned to respond right away. Had he been fighting with a woman? What the hell, Chase? All he could think about was the woman he’d pushed to the deck. What had happened to her?
The boat again righted itself, and he looked westward. Keep going, run, don’t face anymore.
Even as he thought it, he was already turning the boat back to shore. Whoever he was…whatever he’d done, he had to face it. I’ve been running my whole life. That was the last key to himself that came as he lowered the mainsail completely.
Dim lights shone through the rain from the shoreline a while later. He wasn’t sure how far he’d gone. All he knew was he’d been gone for almost four hours. Maddie had probably alerted Barnie to his crazy trip. No doubt he’d lost the man’s respect even if the boat hadn’t sustained any damage. It was possible that the police might be waiting for him. He took a moment to go down below and check for damage and leaks. The boat had held up well, though everything not stowed had been strewn around in the cabin.
He wasn’t sure if his pounding heart was from the trip or his revelation. He’d hit a woman, that’s all he could think about.
The waves abated as he neared the bay. Gusts still swept in, bringing hard sheets of rain. He took down the storm jib and powered into the bay. At first, he saw no one, which relieved him. He’d still tell Barnie what he’d done, if he didn’t know. But dealing with the police, especially in light of his recent memory, wasn’t going to make anything easier. He had to find out the whole story before he could involve them. And he would face the consequences.
Then he saw Maddie, a yellow blur standing next to his boat, and she was alone. Huddled into herself, all he could see of her face were those enormous doe eyes full of anxiety. He hoped she hadn’t stood there the whole time. As bad as that made him feel, it was still better than taking her with him.
He didn’t want to see her, and yet, the sight of her waiting for him filled him with relief and something he couldn’t identify. He was evil, and she was his redemption. Not that he deserved redemption, or even her. He was worse than her husband.
And he wanted her more than anything else, even though it wasn’t fair to have her.
She took the lines he threw and tied them down when he pulled up next to the dock. He fully expected to hear how irresponsible he’d been, especially after lecturing her about Wayne’s recklessness. He expected, and deserved, to hear her anger for leaving her—from the look in her eyes—worrying.
So, it didn’t surprise him when she did start screaming at him. “I thought you were trying to kill yourself! I’ve been listening to the radio in The Barnacle. The storm has been building all morning, and they’ve been repeating for three hours and forty-two minutes that no boats should go out today. I thought you were never going to come back, and they’d find the wreckage of the boat and not you! Men are sometimes lost at sea, you know!”
What did surprise him, when he jumped onto the dock, was the way she threw herself into his arms. “I never worried about Wayne, because I never knew he was taking chances. But I worried about you. When you disappeared into the storm, I couldn’t breathe, it hurt so bad.”
All he could do was hold her. He closed his eyes and squeezed her so hard that he could feel her ribs. He felt the ache inside, too. She wasn’t his to love, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, from running his hands over her face and then into her wet hair. The hood had fallen back when she’d run into his arms.
“Let’s get out of the rain,” he said in a hoarse voice.
He helped her onto the Barnacle and down the companionway. The boat rocked in the choppy water, and the plangent sound of the rain echoed through the cabin. The moment they’d gotten their footing, he stripped the yellow coat off her. She tugged his slicker, then tore off his T-shirt. They couldn’t get their clothes off fast enough, but they couldn’t stop kissing either. He didn’t deserve her, but he couldn’t stop himself from having her. At least for right now, for these precious moments.
Maddie wa
s engulfed by emotions as turbulent as the weather outside. A sleepless night and then four hours of worrying had frayed her nerves. But now he was here, alive and safe, and half-naked in his cabin. She didn’t want to think about the consequences, or what she knew. This was still her Chase. And for one time, she wanted to give in to the explosive feelings they’d kept tamped for too long.
He peeled off her shirt, damp even beneath the raincoat. His eyes took her in as though he’d just found a sunken treasure. His face was flushed, mouth slack, pupils big and dark.
“God, you’re beautiful, Maddie.”
Am not, she wanted to say, but her tongue wouldn’t work. As though he couldn’t hold back anymore, he pulled her close and kissed her neck and shoulder. She rocked her head back and absorbed the feel of his mouth sliding across her cool skin. He cupped her breasts in his hands. She sucked in a breath and arched back as his mouth moved down her collarbone to her breasts and then went lower across her stomach.
He worked on the top button of her jeans, pushed them down. His hot breath went right through her panties, and then he pulled them down. Being naked with Chase was as natural as kissing him. But she wanted him naked, too. She ran her hands over his shoulders and across his chest. She leaned forward and kissed one of his nipples, delighting in making it harden. He tightened his hands on her shoulders and let out a soft growl, and she gave the other one attention. He watched her with wonder as she found the top edge of his jeans and tried to unbutton them. Finally, she had to look down and slide the button through the hole. He was straining against the dense, wet material. Getting his jeans off wasn’t smooth, but he helped her to get them off and kicked them away. His briefs had gone with them.
She inhaled softly when she saw him naked and gorgeous. She stepped back to admire him, to take him in so she’d always remember the splendor of his body. He was looking at her the same way, taking her in as though she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
His eyes were dark with heat, as liquid as molten gold. As though he couldn’t stand to be away from her, even a few inches, he pulled her forward and kissed her again. Her body slammed into his, and she could feel the hot length of him pressing against her stomach. He cradled her face, kissing, pulling back, then kissing again.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
The intensity of his eyes burned to the core of her. “Baby, it’s time to grow up.”
She looked into his eyes. “I’m ready.”
“I can’t make any promises,” he whispered between kisses.
“I know,” she whispered back, knowing too well.
He reached back and shuffled through where he kept the books he’d been reading. She had seen them, classics, but not the single condom package. “Where’d you get that?”
“Long story.”
He backed her toward the V-berth cabin and laid her gently back onto the bed, taking her in with his eyes and his hands.
“You’re beautiful, Maddie. You really are,” he added when he saw the doubt in her eyes.
Not just empty words, his touch said. His eyes said. She pulled him down and kissed him hard. No one had ever called her beautiful, no one. She held tight to him, wishing she could never let him go.
His hands were unsteady, running across her body as though it were the first time he’d ever touched a woman. In his mind, that was true. His sense of wonder moved her beyond belief. She and Wayne had been each other’s first lovers, and their first lovemaking had been marked with awkwardness.
Chase wasn’t awkward or hesitant. Just awed. As his thumbs circled her breasts, he took in the tremble of her body in reaction. He spread his fingers and ran them across her stomach, making goosebumps rise in their path.
“What do you like?” he asked.
“Just touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere.”
So he did, gauging her reaction as his hands caressed her inner thighs, the curve of her behind, and then that private place. His touch spiraled right through her. She felt it explode inside her, and her body convulsed as it washed over her. Her face was flushed when she finally raised her head to look at him. He’d been watching her, of course, marveling in her reaction.
“Good?” he asked.
She wanted to show him how good. She pushed him down on the bed. As soon as her fingers touched him, his breath hitched. She now watched in wonder at his reaction to her touch, every intake of air, every twitch of his muscles. She felt just as aroused as when he’d touched her. His whole body convulsed when she wrapped her fingers around his penis and stroked. It had been too long since she’d felt this intimate part of a man’s body. She experienced with him every tremor that rippled through him until he grabbed hold of her hand and stilled her. He kissed the back of her hand once he’d removed it, then reached over where he’d left the condom and unwrapped it. She helped to slide it down his length.
She laid back on the bed, wanting to maximize the feel of his body against hers. He ran the tips of his fingers across her skin, which had long ago lost its chill. Then he moved her legs apart and maneuvered over her, all the while concentrating on what he was doing. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
He eased in, sliding against her wetness. Her fingers tightened over his shoulders as he gently filled her, then he took a staggering breath and kissed her as he moved inside her. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling of being alive again, more alive than she’d ever felt. She was a woman in his arms, not a giggly teenager in a woman’s body. He was tense, his muscles rock hard.
“How could I have forgotten this?” he whispered in a strained voice.
Drowning in the sensations that built inside her, she tightened her hold on him, feeling him thrust forward in a single convulsion that shook his body. She caught up with him, letting herself go with the rush of heat and pressure.
They held on as though each was a lifesaver in a turbulent ocean. She could hear him catching his breath, reminding her to breathe at all. He shifted to her side and held her close on the small bed.
“I wish I never had to let you go,” he said close to her ear.
She turned to face him, seeing pain in his eyes. He reached up and brushed damp hair from her face.
“I was thinking the same thing,” she said. She was also thinking that maybe she wouldn’t tell him who he was. Would he stay here? Be content never knowing? No, she knew him that well. Chase was going to leave anyway, and he needed to be armed with the truth.
But she wasn’t ready to lose him altogether or think about that other Chase Augustine who might be a murderer. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. She wanted to hold onto as many moments as she could without the ugly truth standing between them—that she’d made love with him while withholding dangerous information.
CHAPTER 15
Maddie dozed for a while, all the worry and then the release of lovemaking finally catching up to her. She lay in Chase’s arms, feeling his body heat envelop her in peace. It felt so good to be held in sleep by a man. It seemed unreal, lying there with him, breathing in the scent of wood, salty air, and a slightly musty odor.
She regretfully floated back to consciousness, vaguely aware of a dull ache inside her. Her heart was jammed up in her throat because of what she had to tell him. She sighed and shifted, staring up at the hatch that revealed the patter of rain. He opened his eyes and looked at her. His smile mirrored the melancholy haze surrounding her.
Her arms involuntarily tightened over his chest. She couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Chase?”
“You all right?” he asked. He had no idea how wrong she was.
She swallowed what felt like a wad of cotton balls. “I know who you are.”
He sat up so fast that she jumped back on the bed. “What are you talking about?”
She’d wanted to be holding onto him when she told him the news, but clinging suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea. She pulled up a pillow and hugged it to
her chest. “Barnie did some looking on the Internet. And he…found you.”
As though he sensed the news wasn’t good, his body stiffened, and his eyes darkened. “What did you find out?”
“Your name is Charleston Augustine. You race sailboats for a living. You disappeared under mysterious circumstances off the coast of Miami, where you live. They found your boat, but no one on board.”
“What else?”
“You’re divorced,” she added when he looked as though he were going to ask her about the ring. “You’re very good at what you do. Respected. Recently you started getting into around-the-world-alone racing. Maybe that’s where the icebergs came in.”
“And?”
She looked away for a moment, then back at him. “When they found your boat…there was a woman’s body caught up in the keel.” He put his hands over his face. “Barnie couldn’t find anything past the initial announcement, like who she was and if she was involved with you or had been on your boat. She might have been just floating out there.” She started to touch him, but he stood and pulled on his jeans.
“When did you find out?” he asked.
“Before I came out this morning.”
His movements became jerky as his anger rose. “Dammit, why didn’t you tell me then?”
“I tried! There was no stopping you.”
“Then how about before we fell into bed together? Wasn’t that a good time to tell me I’m a murderer?”
“You don’t know if you’re a murderer. It was probably an accident. Or—” She stopped at the tense resignation in his face. “You remembered, too?”
He jerked on his shirt. “Not all of it. I hit a woman. We were on a boat, and I was struggling with her. It’s not clear, but she’s screaming, and then I see her falling and hitting her head. It has to be the same woman.”
Maddie lunged for her clothes as he walked forward. “You’re not a murderer. You’re probably not remembering it right.”
Heavenly Stranger Page 18
