“I don’t understand the pleasure in hunting, in stalking an animal and killing it.”
“And I don’t understand the pleasure somebody gets out of having a flower garden.” Will leaned his head against hers.
“How did you know I have a flower garden?” Pivoting her head slightly, she glanced up at him.
“It was just a guess. It wasn’t a giant leap from frumpy botanist to flower garden.” He grunted when she jabbed him in the ribs again. “You don’t happen to have a cat, too, do you?”
“No, I don’t, but I did. Periwinkle died last year, and I haven’t had the heart to get another cat to replace her.”
“Periwinkle?” Will kissed Gwen’s temple. “Brown eyes, you amuse me. You really do. I’ve never met a woman like you.”
And I’ve never met a man like you, all macho cocky swagger and yet kind and understanding and …
“I’m not all that unique,” she told him.
He ran his fingers along her shoulder in a caressing tap. “Yeah, I think maybe you are.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, you do know I was kidding about the frumpy part, don’t you?”
“Were you kidding?”
He maneuvered her so that he could see her face. She looked right at him.
“You deliberately downplay your physical assets, don’t you? You wear your hair in a bun or a ponytail, don’t use much if any makeup, wear loose, colorless clothes and white cotton underwear.” The corners of his mouth lifted into an amused smile. “It’s almost as if you’re saying don’t look at me, don’t notice me.”
“Life is easier if you don’t expect too much, if you don’t long to be noticed, if you don’t need someone’s undivided attention, if you—” Realizing she had already revealed too much of her private self, she stopped talking.
Silence. Soft, gentle silence. The hum of the ocean, the beating of two hearts, their rhythmic breathing. Will slipped his hand between them and took her hand in his, then entwined their fingers.
“How old did you say you were you when your parents divorced?” he asked.
“Ten.”
“That’s a very impressionable age.”
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, okay?”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “How much did your husband remind you of your father?”
“That’s a very personal question.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Gwen turned her head and closed her eyes. “Jeremy Charles was a botanist, like my father. He was brilliant, just as Daddy is. Physically they resembled each other a bit. Tall, slender, distinguished. But Jeremy wasn’t a dreamer. He had both feet firmly planted on the ground. He was steady and reliable, and I thought he was loyal and trustworthy.”
“You married a guy you thought was an improved version of your dad,” Will said. “So what happened? Did Mr. Loyal and Trustworthy cheat on you with some hot little blonde?”
“As a matter of fact, Ryan was a hot little blonde.”
“Ryan?”
“Uh-huh. You see Jeremy wasn’t quite the man I had thought he was.”
“Damn!”
“I was shocked at first, then as time passed I realized I should have figured it out sooner. Poor Jeremy.”
“Poor Jeremy, my ass!”
“No, really. We had an amicable divorce and we’ve remained friends,” Gwen said. “He and Ryan still live in Huntsville. They’re very happy together and I’m happy for them.”
Will slid his arm down and around her waist, pulled her close to him and kissed her. A gentle, nonthreatening kiss. A sweet kiss.
“I’ve never had my heart broken,” Will admitted in a quiet voice.
“Never? Not even by your ex-wife?”
“Marla and I loved each other, but it was no grand passion or anything. After a couple of years together, we realized getting married had been a mistake. Once the redhot sex fizzled out, we didn’t have anything left.”
“You both needed more.”
“Yeah, I guess we did. Unless I find that something more, I don’t plan to get married again.”
“I want something I can never have.” Gwen wasn’t sure why she was actually considering admitting her deepest desire to him. After all, why should he care what she wanted?
“What’s that, this something you think you can never have?”
“I want a man to love me the way my father loves his dream of that damn mythical island and the miracle plant. I want to be someone’s obsession, the only thing that matters to him, above all else.”
“Whew, honey, you don’t want much, do you?”
“I said it was something I know I can never have. It’s just a silly, romantic notion.”
“I don’t know. I think you deserve to get what you want. Maybe someday—”
Gwen pressed her index finger against Will’s lips. “I think all this fresh sea air has drugged me. I don’t usually open up and confess my heart’s desire to … to just anybody.”
She pulled out of his arms and stood.
“Gwen?”
“I’m going below deck. We’ll want to start out early in the morning, so maybe we’d both better try to get some sleep.”
She escaped as quickly as she could, all the while calling herself a fool. What had possessed her to tell Will that she longed for a man to love her to the point of obsession? He probably thought she wasn’t the type of woman that could inspire that kind of passion in any man. Let alone him.
Jordan Elders had unlocked the door to Cheryl’s tiny stateroom and escorted her into the galley an hour ago, while the cruiser was leaving port. Now, she was sitting topside with Jordan, drinking a diet cola and finally breathing in some fresh sea air. They had kept her locked up most of yesterday and all night last night. Apparently, the others had appointed Jordan as her caretaker because he was the one who brought her food and checked on her.
“So where are we going now?” Cheryl asked, gazing to the east, at the rising sun. “North somewhere, I guess.”
“Into the North Atlantic, directly into the Bermuda Triangle, in search of The Professor’s island,” Jordan replied.
“Does he really think he’ll be able to find one little island out here in the Atlantic Ocean? Doesn’t the Triangle cover thousands of miles?”
“The Bermuda Triangle, also known as the Devil’s Triangle, covers over four hundred thousand square miles, and since 1854 more than fifty ships and aircraft have vanished inside the Triangle.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” she said sarcastically.
“The Professor found the island once or, rather, it found him. He believes the island will come to him again.”
“You sound as crazy as he does.” Cheryl finished off her canned cola, crushed the can and threw it overboard.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a whiny pain in the butt?”
“Did anyone ever tell you that kidnapping is illegal?”
“No one kidnapped you.” He glowered at her, as if he had a right to be critical and condemning. “You sneaked aboard the Sun Dancer and hid. You were trespassing.”
“I was trying to protect a friend, to be there when she got her heart broken. Tori was determined to follow you, and that’s the only reason I boarded this damn boat.”
“Tori had sense enough to leave before she got caught. You stowed away, so don’t even think about accusing anyone of kidnapping you.”
“Maybe I wasn’t kidnapped in the beginning, but I’m being held here against my will.”
“Yap, yap, yap. How many times do I have to tell you that once we complete our expedition, you’ll be free to go home to your rich daddy.”
“You may believe that, but I don’t. If your noble professor’s cohorts find out who my father is, do you honestly think they won’t at least consider demanding a ransom for my safe return?”
“No one else knows who your father is. Only I know, and I have no reason to share that information with anyone else. And besides, The Professor trusts Captain Mc
Guire, and he’s asked Molly to marry him. He has promised them a percentage of any material gain from the sale of the miracle plant we find on the island.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes heavenward. “Are you really as naive and gullible as The Professor?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Take a look up there at Captain McGuire.” She surveyed the middle-aged man sitting at the helm. Overly long salt-and-pepper hair. A scruffy dark beard. Leathery tanned skin. A cigarette dangled from his lips. “Doesn’t your gut instincts tell you the guy is a sleaze?”
“I don’t judge a man by the way he looks.”
“What about judging a woman by the way she looks?” Cheryl nodded upward toward the flying bridge where Dr. Arnell and Molly stood looking out at the vast ocean, searching for sight of the nonexistent island. “Does Molly look like the type of woman who’d be interested in a dotty old professor?”
“She admires and respects Dr. Arnell, just as I do,” Jordan said. “Any woman should be honored to have him interested in her.”
“Get your head out of your ass, will you? There is no mythical island, no miracle plant. Captain McGuire is a sleaze and probably a crook. And Molly is a whore if I ever saw one. She’s probably bedded half the men in the Caribbean.”
“What made you so cynical?” Jordan asked.
“What made you so stupid?” she countered.
Grunting disgustedly, Jordan grasped her upper arm. “Look, Cheryl, you got yourself in this situation and you’re doing nothing to make it easier on yourself. I get it that you want to go home. I understand you’re upset and frustrated, but you’re stuck here with us until we either find Dr. Arnell’s island or we land in Bermuda. So, grow up, will you, and stop acting like a spoiled brat!”
She jerked away from him, so angry she could spit nails. “If I ever do get home, I’m going to have my daddy make sure you’re all put in jail for the rest of your lives!”
She whirled around and ran down the steps to the salon below deck. Not only would she make sure everyone aboard the Sun Dancer went to jail, she had a score to settle with someone else. Once she got her hands on Tori, she was going to wring her best friend’s neck for getting her into this mess!
Gwen sat at the helm with Will as they headed farther out to sea on a rather bright, sunny, balmy morning. They’d been up since daylight, both of them anxious to set sail. The odds of their finding the Sun Dancer in the vastness of the Bermuda Triangle were probably nil, but Gwen knew they had to try. Both the Sun Dancer and the Footloose had left Baccara and were headed into the Triangle, with Bermuda as the final destination. Will had pointed out that logic dictated a northeasterly route.
“I think we should try to make radio contact with the Sun Dancer on and off all day today.” Will took a sip from the mug of fresh coffee Gwen had brought him.
“What?” She whipped around and glared at him.
“I said—”
“I heard what you said, but I don’t understand. Do you mean we could have made radio contact with them before now and didn’t?”
“I did try,” he admitted, a sheepish expression on his face. “More than once.”
“And?” Gwen held her breath.
“I didn’t get a response. My guess is that Mick McGuire has ordered radio silence. He doesn’t want anyone aboard giving away their location or—”
“When I first woke this morning, I thought I heard you talking to someone and you said you were just getting a weather report. Are you lying to me? Did you speak to someone aboard the Sun Dancer?”
Will placed his mug in the cup holder, clamped his hands around the wheel and stared straight ahead. “I did get a weather report.”
“But that’s not all, is it?”
“I tried to contact your father’s ship,” Will told her. “But I didn’t get a response. After that, I contacted several other vessels that are traveling into the Triangle today, to ask them to be on the lookout for the Sun Dancer. My boss, Sawyer McNamara, was able to get me the information about the other ships in the area.”
“So, we do have a chance, no matter how slim, of actually finding the Sun Dancer?”
“Yeah, we have a chance.”
She picked up on something in his voice, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “If we don’t catch up with them at sea, we’ll catch up with them in Bermuda, right? That’s what you said.”
“Yeah, honey, that’s what I said.”
Suddenly she knew why she’d heard just a hint of desperation in his voice. “You’re pretty sure that Mick and Molly are going to kill my father and Jordan and Cheryl Kress before they reach Bermuda, aren’t you?”
Will didn’t respond.
Gwen sat beside him, not saying anything else, just breathing, listening to the cruiser’s motors and the steady ocean rhythm. They remained silent for quite a while, then a call on the ship’s radio shattered the silence with earsplitting intensity.
The call came from a fishing vessel, the Sea Hunt. They had spotted the Sun Dancer, due east of them. While Will repeated the coordinates, Gwen memorized them.
“They’re approximately an hour ahead of us,” Will told her. “But I think we can catch up with them in a few hours, as long as they don’t change course. There will be no reason for them to increase their speed since they have no idea that we’re following them or that we know their coordinates.”
Overcome with relief, Gwen threw her arms around Will’s neck and kissed him.
“I like seeing you happy,” he told her. “But don’t get your hopes too high. We haven’t caught up with them yet and when we do, there could be trouble.”
An hour ago they had entered the waters known worldwide as the Bermuda Triangle. Jordan kept watch with The Professor and Molly atop the cruiser on the flying bridge. The farther they sailed into the ocean, the more tense Dr. Arnell became, his eyes glued to the horizon, searching, silently praying that this time would be The Time.
Mile after mile of endless sea stretched before them, lay behind them and surrounded them. Although a part of Jordan wanted desperately to believe they would find this mysterious vanishing island, with each passing minute, he grew more uncertain and wondered if Dr. Arnell could endure another failure.
“Tell me again about your island,” Molly said, clinging to The Professor’s arm.
“You must be weary of listening to my old tales,” Dr. Arnell said.
“Don’t be silly, darling, I never tire of hearing you talk about something that means so much to you.”
“I wish my wife had felt as you do, my dear Molly. She thought me a fool.”
“She should have believed in you, and so should your daughter.”
“Sweet little Gwendolyn. She did believe in me once. She even went on two expeditions with me, but as she grew older, she became cynical.”
“She’ll change her tune once you rediscover your island.” Molly patted The Professor’s hand.
Jordan watched the display of affection between Molly and Dr. Arnell and hoped that the woman’s feelings were genuine, that she was on the up-and- up. But ever since Cheryl had put doubts in his mind—about Captain McGuire and Molly—he hadn’t been able to shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong, that they were in trouble. Big trouble.
“Look at those dark clouds.” Molly pointed due north. “I thought the weather was supposed to be perfect today.”
Jordan looked to the north. The gray clouds swirled and thickened, rapidly growing darker. Suddenly the wind picked up, and within minutes whipped around them with amazing speed.
“We’d better go below,” Jordan said.
He and Molly assisted Dr. Arnell, whose arthritic knees hindered him going up and down steps easily. By the time they reached the salon, the dark clouds surrounded them on all sides and streaks of lightning broke through like giant spears of fire. The winds grew in intensity, churning the ocean, sending huge waves up, over, and onto the deck. The choppy waters tumbled the Sun Dancer about as if it
were a toy ship.
Jordan went to Cheryl’s room and unlocked it.
“What’s going on? I swear I’m getting seasick,” Cheryl said, jumping off her bed.
“We’ve run into a storm,” Jordan told her. “Put on your life jacket and stay in the salon with the others. I’m going back up to find out from McGuire what the hell is going on.”
When Jordan returned topside, the wind almost knocked him down and giant waves washed over him, drenching him to the skin. He tried to make his way to the helm, but barely made it on deck before he realized that this was no ordinary storm. It was as if the ocean beneath the Sun Dancer was whirling around and around, forming a watery vortex, and the force of the downward current would soon rip the cruiser apart and take it to the bottom of the sea.
Chapter 9
The rough winds and high waves pounded the Sun Dancer, tossing the cruiser about with damaging force. Captain McGuire came below, wearing a life jacket and aiming a gun at Jordan and the others who were huddled in the cabin.
“Molly, you’re coming with me. We can use the life raft and provisions and have a chance to survive,” McGuire shouted at her.
“We can’t leave the others!” Molly screamed.
“Come with me or stay here and die with them.”
Jordan wasn’t sure what The Professor was thinking when he suddenly rushed McGuire, who aimed his weapon and fired. Molly put herself in front of Dr. Arnell and took the bullet meant for him.
McGuire cursed, then raced up the companionway. Jordan followed, knowing if McGuire took the lifeboat, they were all goners. Without warning, a wave crashed over the boat, sweeping McGuire overboard.
Knowing he mustn’t waste time, Jordan yelled for the others to come up. Then he helped The Professor, Cheryl and an injured Molly climb into the life raft.
Once aboard, Jordan noted that Cheryl seemed to be in a state of shock. There wasn’t much he could do for her right now as they rocked violently in the treacherous waters. He had other things to concern him.
Ready for Anything, Anywhere! Page 10
