Falling For A Stranger

by Barbara Freethy

  "Instruct away," he said.

  As Ria went through her safety talk, Drew's mind began to drift. He was distracted by her mouth, her eyes, and her curves. She'd taken off her jacket and wore a white polo shirt with the yacht club logo over a pair of soft jeans that clung to her hips. Seemed a little thinner than he remembered, but she still had curves in all the right places. Her breasts swelled against her shirt, and he could still feel the weight of them in his hands.

  He drew in a quick breath as desire swept through him. He'd wanted Ria from the first second he saw her and that feeling was back.

  He wished he could say he knew more about her now than he had before, but that wasn't true; he actually knew less. Because now he knew he couldn't take her at face value. She'd changed her name, but that begged the question—which name was really hers? Tory or Ria? Was who she'd been on the island a lie? Or was who she was now the pretense? Was she a victim or a villain?

  Sighing, he felt like he was a treadmill; he kept going around and around, but he couldn't get anywhere, nor could he get off.

  "If you're not going to take this seriously, then we can stop right now," Ria said abruptly. "You haven't heard a word I said."

  "I was thinking about the last time we were together."

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "We're not talking about that now. So either pay attention or get off the boat."

  "Fine. I'm paying attention."

  "Good, because sailing in the bay can be tricky with the winds and the currents, and I don't feel like going for a swim."

  "I know how dangerous sailing can be. I'm the one who pulls people out of the water."

  "Right. I forgot about that," she murmured, her gaze narrowing. "You must have had some training on boats. You're in the Coast Guard, and you were in the Navy. Are you hustling me?"

  "In the Navy, I landed helicopters on aircraft carriers in the sea. I didn't pilot the ship," he said dryly. "And in the Coast Guard, I fly well above the waves. But yes I have some knowledge of boating, and I understand how wind and lift work together, so with your guidance, I should be able to master the sails fairly quickly."

  "Then let's do it. The sooner we get out there, the sooner this lesson will be over." She tossed him a life jacket. "Put this on. No life jacket, no lesson."

  He smiled at both her annoyance and her directness. Her candor was one of the qualities that had drawn him to her. He'd liked her behind the bar, seeing people for who they really were, not buying into half-assed pick-up lines. But she'd been a lot more free-spirited on the island, not nearly so tense or so wary. Hopefully, she'd let her guard down and trust him a little.

  "The most important thing to sailing a boat like this is the wind," Ria said. "I know that sounds obvious, but it's important. This isn't a motorboat. You don't get to just sit back and relax. If you need to turn, you have to change the sails, same with going faster and slowing down. You want to be sitting on the side of the boat where the wind crosses."

  "Got it," he said. "But I'm better at hands on learning, so can we get out there?"

  "Untie the line, and we'll get started. I'll get us out of the harbor. Then I'll show you what to do."

  Chapter Seven

  It took about ten minutes to get past the harbor wall. Once in the bay, the real action started. For the next half hour, Drew wrestled with sails and the wind, feeling more than a little clumsy in his technique.

  Being on the water seemed to ease Ria's nerves. She lost her attitude towards him and was both patient and encouraging as she taught him how to turn, how to go faster, and how to slow down.

  As the wind and spray blew against his face, and the boat flew over the waves, he felt energized and excited to take on the sea. His competitive instincts kicked in, as well as his desire to impress Ria. He wanted to be good at this, as good as he was at flying, but logically he knew that might take some time.

  Ria moved with agility and grace on the boat, no hesitation or doubt in any of her movements. She was in her element out here. Her cheeks were reddened from the sun and the wind, and there was a sparkle in her brown eyes. Her long brown hair was mostly pulled back in a ponytail, but every now and then a few more strands escaped the band to dance in the wind.

  It was a great day for sailing, sunny, breezy, and with views from every angle. There were a lot of other boats out on the bay, and the sailors were quite friendly, waving, shouting hello, as they passed by. A few seemed to know Ria, or Tory, as they called her. And she was certainly friendly in acknowledging them. Her stiffness seemed to be reserved for him, and he knew that had something to do with the fact that he'd met her on the island under a different name. He needed to know more, but he was strangely reluctant to break the tentative truce between them.

  When they reached the Golden Gate Bridge, Ria had him turn the boat back towards the bay. She suggested he loosen the sails so they could slow down and get a better look at the city skyline. He followed her instructions and then sat next to her on the bench as the boat slowed to a gentle, bobbing cruise.

  "This is fun," he told her.

  She smiled. You're a natural. I had a feeling you would be."

  "I like things that move: cars, planes, boats…"

  "I just like boats," she said.

  "You told me the sea was your escape."

  "And yours was the sky."

  "You remembered."

  "I remember everything," she said.

  Her gaze clung to his, and this time she wasn't trying to hide the shared memories. It was the most honest moment they'd had all day. He didn't want to ruin it, but he was on the clock, and he didn't know how long he would have her alone. "So do I. And the way you look now is the woman I remember. Your eyes are lit up, and your cheeks are pink, and you've got that reckless, fearless look in your eyes."

  "That's because out here I'm not afraid."

  "Another cryptic statement. What happened, Ria? Why the new name? Why the fear in your eyes? What's waiting for you back on land that makes you so guarded, so nervous?"

  "That's a lot of questions."

  "We can take them one at a time."

  She let out a sigh. "If I let you into my life, I could put you in danger."

  "So you're not talking to me for my own protection?" he asked, unable to keep the doubtful tone out of his voice. "I can take care of myself."

  "I pissed off some very important and dangerous people on the island," she said. "I had to disappear."

  "Did you blow up that boat?" As he asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer. "You did. That's the only way you could get off without being injured. Was it some sort of remote-controlled explosion? Did you have a life raft?"

  "Does it matter how? I had to make it look like I was dead. So that's what I did." She licked her lips. "I honestly didn't know you would search for me. I thought you'd be long gone and that you'd never know anything."

  "Would you have changed your plans if I wasn't leaving the island that day?"

  She shook her head. "No. My plans were set. I had no other option."

  "So when you came to my room that night, you knew you were going to disappear the next day."

  "I told you that, Drew. I said it was only for that night. You didn’t care."

  He vaguely remembered her saying something about a night, but he'd been so caught up in her, he wouldn't have cared if she'd told him they had five minutes; he would have taken what he could get.

  "I was honest with you," she said. "I never led you on."

  "I think honesty might be a word you want to stay away from," he said dryly.

  "Honest with you," she said pointedly. "I wasn't talking about anyone else."

  "Then be honest with me now. Tell me why you had to fake your death, which is a pretty extreme measure."

  "If I hadn't faked my death, I'd be dead for real, and if anyone were to connect me to you and to the island, it could be very bad, not just for me, but also for you. They might think you helped me get off the isl
and." She took a breath, her gaze very serious. "This is even worse than I thought."

  "Who are 'they'?"

  "I can't tell you." She blew out a breath. "I wish you hadn't made those calls when you saw me a few months ago. You could have triggered something."

  "Like what? The people I spoke to still thought you were dead."

  "Yes, but you might have planted a seed of doubt."

  "Were you running away from Juan or Martin?"

  She immediately shook her head. "No. I actually liked both of them."

  "Then I doubt you have anything to worry about."

  "Believe me, there's always something to worry about. Juan is very closely connected with some of the people on the island that I want to avoid. And I'm not sure who Martin is connected to these days. He was only supposed to be on the island a few months. He was taking a break from school. He's been there over a year."

  "I guess he likes the island lifestyle."

  "Yeah," she muttered, obviously distracted.

  "Ria—"

  "Tory," she corrected, refocusing her attention on him. "That's my name now. Tory Harper. You have to remember to use it."

  "Tory doesn't really fit you."

  "Well, it is me," she snapped.

  "Why don't you go to the police?"

  "They can't help me. The threat is—international."

  "Then what about the FBI?"

  She shook her head. "Don’t you think I've already considered every option? I'm not stupid, Drew."

  "Believe me, I never thought you were. Maybe I can help you," he suggested. "I am with the Coast Guard, and I have friends in other areas of law enforcement."

  Her frown only deepened at his words. "No," she said flatly. "If you want to help, stay away from me. Forget you ever met me. You do not want to be in the middle of this situation."

  "Is there anyone who's helping you?" he asked. "Because I find it difficult to believe you could blow up a boat, escape from the middle of the ocean, start over with a new name without having anyone to help."

  "I'm good at multi-tasking," she said lightly.

  "I don't believe you."

  "I had help with the I.D.," she said.

  "What about your family? Where are they?"

  "Let's talk about something else."

  "Ria—"

  "I've already said too much," she said, putting up a hand. "I'm handling things, and at the moment everything is fine. My only problem is you."

  He stared back at her. "Why am I a problem?"

  "I already told you. I can't have any connections to the island, and you are a link. People saw us talking in the bar that night, and you helped in the search. If anyone thinks you really saw me…" Her voice trailed away. And then she said. "I wouldn't be the only one in danger then, you would be, too, and I really don't want that."

  Her gaze softened as she looked at him. "You don't deserve this kind of trouble, Drew. The night we met you were getting over something; I don't know exactly what. But there were shadows in your eyes, and you were tense when we first started talking. You told me you came to the island to rest and to forget, and I assumed you were referring to some dark moments in your Naval career. Maybe I was wrong about the reason, but there was pain in your eyes, and also loneliness." She frowned. "Maybe that's not the right word, but you seemed isolated from everyone in that bar. You weren’t with your friend or his party. You didn’t talk to anyone who approached you. You were your own island."

  "And then you walked over," he said quietly, a little shaken that she'd read him so well.

  "What were you trying to forget?" she asked.

  "It wasn't any one thing, not a single moment or a single death; it was everything combined. I was tired, and even though I'd gone to the island to relax and blow off some steam, I couldn't get into the party mode. I couldn't waste time having meaningless conversation with people I didn't care about and couldn't relate to." He paused. "And then you walked down the bar."

  "Because you were watching me."

  "I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

  "There were lots of pretty women in that bar," she said with a bit of a self-conscious smile.

  "But you were more than that. You were smart and funny, and you didn't let me get away with my lame pickup lines."

  "They were pretty bad," she agreed.

  "I was out of practice."

  "You said that at the time. I had a hard time believing it, because you know you're not bad looking."

  He smiled. "Thanks."

  "So how come you were out of practice?"

  He knew she was using her questions to avoid his, but at the moment they were talking, and that was a good thing. "I was focused on my career in my early twenties, and then I was deployed for a long time. I lost some friends, and my life got a little dark for a while," he said, glossing over those bad years. "I didn't feel like I was in a position to start something with anyone."

  "I'm sorry, Drew. I can't imagine what you went through, but I do know what it's like to lose people you care about."

  "Who have you lost, Ria?"

  "Well, I lost my grandfather. He's the one who taught me how to sail. From the time I could walk, he had me out on his boat. He was a commercial fisherman in his day job, and on the weekends we would go out in his sailboat." She paused. "We lived here in San Francisco at the time, so this bay feels a lot like home to me. And it did to him, too. His whole life was on the sea, which is probably why he ended up divorced. His wife said the sea was his mistress. And he used to tell me that my grandmother wasn't really wrong. He was always happiest on the water."

  "Like you. It sounds like you were close."

  "We were. My grandfather was my anchor. My parents didn't get along well. I'm not even sure why they got married in the first place. All I remember is them fighting. They got divorced when I was eleven. And the next year my grandfather died. That time was a little dark for me," she said, using his own words.

  "But you still continued to sail after your grandfather passed."

  "Yes, I joined some junior sailing clubs so I could get back on the water. No one else in the family had a boat, so that was my only option."

  "And now you sail for a living. Not a bad job."

  "I'm lucky to be able to do what I love. It doesn't pay a lot, but enough."

  "Do you still bartend?"

  "Sometimes. What about you, Drew? When did you decide to become a pilot?"

  "When I was fourteen. My dad's friend took us up in his small plane, and I was hooked. The first time I took the controls, I knew that's what I wanted to do for the rest of my life."

  "And did you always have your eye on flying for the Navy?"

  He smiled. "My first goal was to fly the fastest planes I could find. Fighter jets seemed the best option. But once I got in the Navy, there was more of a need for helicopter pilots so I changed directions. I liked the fact that helicopters require the pilot to really fly them, and the stealth factor was appealing. I could set down in remote locations. I could go where no one else could."

  "You have an adventurous spirit."

  "Yeah, kind of like you."

  "Did you ever get shot at?"

  "Lots of times. I only had one hard landing."

  She gave him a knowing smile. "Is your idea of a hard landing equal to someone else's idea of a crash?"

  "Possibly," he conceded.

  "When you left the Navy, did you ever consider a civilian job, maybe flying tourists around Hawaii or something? You had certainly already done your duty."

  He shook his head. "Way too boring. The Coast Guard is perfect for me. And it's a family tradition to serve the community or the world. My great-grandfather started it, and just about everyone since then has taken up a career that gives back in some way."

  "That sounds like a burden."

  "More of a guidepost. At least that's the way I looked at it. Some of my siblings have a different take. Did you grow up with any family traditions?"

  "Not real
ly. Although my grandfather used to tell me that a pessimistic person complains about the wind, an optimist expects it to change, and the realist simply adjusts the sails. I think he stole the quote from someone, but it's the way he lived his life. And I try to live my life that way, too." She paused for a moment, giving him a long, thoughtful look. "Can I ask you something, Drew?"

  "Shoot."

  "Why are you so interested in me? Is it because I'm not interested in you? Do you want what you can't have? Is it the chase that makes me more exciting?"

  He gazed back at her with a thoughtful expression. "First of all, I don't believe for a second that you're not interested in me. I know when a woman is attracted to me, even when she's pretending not to be."

  "That's a cocky statement."

  "It's true. And I don't need a chase to find you exciting, although I must admit I'm both intrigued and a little wary."

  "You should be less intrigued and more wary," she said dryly. "Look, Drew, I had a great time with you on the island. But it's over. I'm not that woman anymore. And I can't be connected to you."

  "Why don't you just let me help you, Ria?"

  "I can't." She took a breath. "I'm not the only one involved and the secrets don't belong just to me." Glancing down at her watch, she added. "Your hour is up. Time to go back."

  "We can't leave it like that."

  "We have to. I know you're curious and frustrated and probably pissed off, but you have to let this go. You have to let me go."

  A rough wave of disappointment ran through him. He wasn't ready to say goodbye yet, but she was already on her feet, adjusting the sails. "Let's see if we can find some of that speed you love so much," she said, giving him a bright smile that barely covered what looked like sadness. She might be determined to be alone and on her own, but she wasn't feeling that great about her decision. And neither was he. In fact, he was nowhere near done with her, but he'd save that statement for a later date.