Alone, she began to undress and whimpered at a shock of pain from a source other than her knee. In the muted light from the end table, Jill glanced down at her bare stomach and noticed the skin was discolored. On closer inspection near the light, she witnessed the beginning milieu of dark colors which would produce an unsightly bruise by tomorrow. Great. A hideous knee, and now this. Thank God for sundresses.
Grazing her palm across the tarnished patch of skin, Jill recalled the sensation of the arm clamped across it, and the hard frame flat against her back. In the chaos of that moment, those were two sensations that were forged in her mind.
***
Nassau was a blast of color and activity as if the ocean had collided with the sun and sprinkled a rainbow of vibrant shades down onto the low slung buildings. After breakfast and a stroll through Festival Place, which was a series of portside shops and restaurants, Jill finally hoisted her Olympus SLR camera out. She turned her back on Catherine, Betsy and George to capture images of the Neptune Majesty docked in Prince George Wharf. The ship truly was majestic, towering 15 decks to look like a dazzling white skyscraper afloat in the sea. But beyond it lie the colossal pink silhouette of the Atlantis Resort. She had done her research on the hotel complex and wanted to spend some time photographing its lagoons and water park.
Lined along the curb outside the marketplace was a convoy of orange and white cabs. Jill eyed the exotic resort in the distance, and the long span of the bridge to reach it. For a second she contemplated walking. Recently she had just started to jog again, but it would take some time to build up a tolerance for long distances. There was no sense in tempting the fates.
“Mom, I’m taking a cab over to the Atlantis to get some pictures.”
Catherine took off the colorful straw bonnet she was trying on. It caught some of her sandy hair and left wisps standing straight on top of her head. “I hear it’s expensive. We’re heading over to Cable Beach. Why don’t you come with us?”
Riveted by the prominent contour of the resort, as if the lost city itself had risen from the sea and staked its claim on the Bahamian island, Jill shook her head. “I’ll meet you for dinner. You guys go have fun.”
“Oh Jill Ann,” Catherine stepped up and wrapped her arm inside Jill’s, escorting her out of earshot from the Tarantinos. “I know you want some time alone. I appreciate that. But I just want you to be careful.” She squeezed Jill’s arm. “You know I’ll be worried.”
Jill smiled and squeezed back, and then reached up to smooth down her mother’s wind-strewn locks. “I know you will. I have the cell. I’ll give you a call from over there.”
“Alright,” Still apprehensive, Catherine glanced over her shoulder at Betsy who was holding up a coral necklace. “I wish I had that woman’s bottomless wallet,” she whispered to Jill.
“Betsy’s bottomless wallet looks bored out of his mind.” Jill nodded towards George. “Too bad Dad had to work.”
“We’re going to send George golfing this afternoon,” Catherine winked.
On a laugh, Jill started towards the cabs and threw a last wave before getting in.
***
Basking in the shadows of the lofty reproduction of a Mayan temple, Jill watched an enthusiastic guest attempt the Leap of Faith slide. Screams of glee merged with peals of laughter along with the drone of other visitors seated beside the meandering river and lagoons of the Royal Towers. The smell of suntan lotion, chlorine and saltwater made Jill relax back into her cushioned wrought iron chair. On the table before her were the two staples she had requested−her laptop and a pina colada. Granted it was only two in the afternoon, but this was a vacation after all, and it truly was the first time in months that she felt calm.
From behind the oversized lenses of her new sunglasses, the laptop screen was off in color, yet she could still manage some of the rudimentary edits on the digital images. Using her mouse to resize a picture, she felt the shadow of the waiter as he set down another drink in a glass with the Atlantis insignia etched on it.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged, a little put out that they would thrust a second drink on her without her asking for it, “but I haven’t even finished the first one.”
“This one is mine.” A deep voice sounded behind her.
Jill’s head jerked up from the computer, but even with the aid of sunglasses, only the man’s silhouette was visible with the vibrant sun eclipsing him.
“Wh−what are you doing here?”
Brent pulled out the other chair and sat down. He wore white cotton shorts that came down to his knees, exposing long, tan legs with a dusting of dark hairs on them that tickled Jill’s skin as if she had touched them. His loose white cotton shirt showcased tan arms and gave her a tempting glimpse of his collarbone. She managed to raise her eyes to his face, which was open for display without any sunglasses to obscure it. He was squinting, revealing a slight web of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. She guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, but it was just an estimate. His dark hair was mussed by the wind, but she couldn’t detect any grey strands in it. Without deliberation, she lifted her drink to her lips and took a hearty swallow.
Halting a rolling beach ball with the heel of a loafer that looked worn out, Brent rolled it back in the direction of a group of sheepish little swimmers. They grabbed the ball with a hasty ‘thank you’ and then cannon-balled back into the pool, the ensuing splash spraying some of Brent’s arm and leg.
“Ahhh, now that felt good,” he wiped at some of the moisture and then looked up at her. “I’ll be honest. I was on the pier and I saw you getting into the cab−”
“You’re stalking me?”
“No. Hell no.” His dark eyebrows dipped into a frown and he hefted an ankle up over his knee, but then set the leg down again, discomfited. “I wanted to see you.”
The husky voice had Jill reaching for the Pina Colada again, but this time she toyed with the cool moisture pooling around the glass.
“Do you spend all of your time looking for people, Mr. Coales?” she asked.
Brent leaned forward with his elbows atop his knees and his hands clasped together. He shook their union for emphasis. “No.”
Looking at her with a resigned expression, he sat back, and in the light of day she saw every nuance of his features−shadows where there were contours−and a touch of fresh color across sculpted cheekbones. Short, dark hair was whisked against a forehead that possessed a couple of grooves across it. The hair was spliced with highlights from the sun. Not this sun, but she could tell this man spent plenty of time outside. His hands looked as if they had been put to good use, with the nicks and scars of life across them. She liked that. She liked a man’s hands to look as if they had been used to create−not like the effeminate hands of Tyler which had been worthless on a steering wheel. These hands before her had splayed across her stomach, and their strength had saved her. Never mind that the rest of him had nearly killed her.
“No,” he repeated. “I just−I’m just−”
The hands that held her fascination fell like lifeless birds. “I’m just so damned sorry for what happened yesterday. And when I should have been expressing that, I was distracted and I must have come across as a real ass, and I’m not a real ass, Jill.”
Jill snorted some of the coconut drink. “If you say so.”
The grin she received made her want to rub the cool glass against her forehead. He had full lips that curled up slightly at the side to reveal the bud of a dimple, and the fact that she could not look away from those lips made the heat of the sun more apparent. Thank God for the sunglasses that masked the belligerent trek of her gaze.
“You still look like a Chihuahua in those,” he nodded.
“Flattery like that is not going to entice me into allowing you to stay. As a matter of fact, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m working here.”
“Well,” he nodded, “I was going to mention something about the laptop. I was really hoping you were just reading or something. This is supposed to be a
vacation, which brings me to the point about why I was intrigued enough to follow your cab.”
Jill sat back, her interest piqued. “Oh?”
“Honestly, I was startled to see you alone.”
“Why is that so astonishing?” Defenses kicked in, stiffening her posture.
“You happen to be a very cute Chihuahua−and yes I am now openly fishing here when I say that I’m surprised you don’t have anyone with you on this cruise.”
She disregarded the odd compliment and challenged, “You’re alone. Or are we back to you getting dumped by whoever you were stalking last night?”
“Ouch. I wasn’t stalking anyone, and as far as me being on this cruise, it was a last-minute thing. I have business in Santo Domingo.”
“They don’t have planes that fly to the Dominican Republic? You had to foot the bill for a cruise?”
An arrow formed between his eyebrows and he looked pensive. “I guess that does sound pretty lame. A friend of mine has some ties with the cruise line and he booked this vacation because it’s his business I’m attending to. I guess he wanted to make sure it wasn’t all work.”
Only by the futility in Brent’s voice was Jill intrigued. He genuinely looked upset, which made her want to probe more.
“Okay, if that’s true, then why didn’t you bring someone along if it’s so ghastly to be alone on a vacation? Where is your friend?”
Brent snapped out of his stupor. “He’s working.”
“He.” Jill quirked an eyebrow.
“What was that cryptic implication?” Brent grinned.
Sitting back in her chair, the digital images on the laptop now the farthest thing from her mind, she followed the path of another daredevil attempting the waterslide. A breeze full of salt and coconut ruffled her hair and she inclined her head towards it, grateful for the respite from the heat.
“One drink, Mr. Coales−and then I’m getting back to work.”
“Perhaps by the end of that drink I’ll just be, Brent.”
“Doubtful.” Jill raised her glass and took a sip, watching him over the rim.
“Since we’re off to such a great start, can I ask what is so important that you’re sitting at a laptop when a beautiful stretch of ocean is only a few feet away?”
Jill reminded herself that Tyler had seemed charming at first. Well, no, that wasn’t true. She was just used to him. He had no reason to charm her. When he asked her out, it wasn’t even perceived as a date. It was, let’s go get a drink after work. And after that it was more of the same until it came to be expected that they would go out together. But for as much as they talked about business, they never really talked, or he never really seemed too interested in listening. Jill couldn’t condemn her judge of character, though. She just was not interested in analyzing Tyler. They had not slept together. It was just simple. He was simple. Too simple.
Now, looking at the attractive stranger sitting across from her, she wished her judge of character was more honed. Prior to Tyler she had one long-time relationship with Lee Granger. After two years together she was convinced they would get married, but a leggy brunette paralegal put the kibosh on those plans. Lee and Tyler helped to erect her wary barricade. But she was still human, and the front gate of the barricade was slightly ajar so that she could peek at this attractive, enigmatic man. At any time she could slam the gate closed and lock it tight, but for right now she was safe glancing out.
“I’m a freelance photographer,” she announced.
White teeth flashed behind Brent’s smile. “A-hah, so you really are working. Is this cruise an assignment?”
“No,” Jill thought of her mother. “Well, to me it is. I’m not here alone as you choose to believe. I’m here with my mother.”
“You don’t seem too happy about that.” Brent shook his head at an approaching waiter.
“I’m getting used to it. Mom’s off doing her thing. She would like to convince everyone that she is taking this cruise for me, but it’s pretty much the other way around.”
Taking a sip from the frosted glass, Brent’s eyebrow inched up. “Did she feel you needed a vacation?”
Jill’s internal gate closed an inch. “I guess she thinks I work too hard.”
His glass came down. “Smart lady.”
“I am not the one taking a cruise to get to my job, Mr. Coales.” She reached forward and closed the laptop cover, the image of a ten year old boy and the fish-head Grouper mascot gone. “Your job, which is−?”
The congenial smile wavered. He took another sip of the milky cocktail.
“I design boats.”
“That’s admirable.” She glanced at his hands. “And you’re going to design a boat in Santo Domingo?”
“Yes.”
A lie. The evasive shift of his golden eyes convinced her that his response was a lie−not that he owed her any real answer. She didn’t even know the man.
Jill swirled her glass around, watching the pearly liquid circle about the bottom. She finished off the last bit and noticed that the alcohol and heat were making her lightheaded. She caught Brent watching her, his lips set in a grim line.
“I’m not going to be able to convince you to have another, am I?” his voice was quiet, so much so that she had to strain to hear it over the resonance around them.
“No,” She reached for her laptop and hauled it into an oversized white leather purse that was meant to accommodate her camera and laptop and still look fashionable.
“Will you do me one favor, Jill?”
The husky gravity of his tone caught her attention. “What?”
“Will you let me escort you back to the ship?”
She slung her purse over her shoulder and rose, making sure to use the table for stability. “I’m not a frail female who needs an escort, Mr. Coales. I travel extensively by myself, and believe it or not, I manage to get by.”
She didn’t want to sound like a rabid porcupine, but she didn’t want to be coddled either. There was enough coddling from her mother to last a lifetime.
Instead of being put out, Brent rose and smiled down at her from about a six inch advantage. “I have no doubt about that,” he paused and leaned in closer, “but you never know when a crazy person will come out of nowhere and plow you over.”
Maybe the alcohol played a part, but she let loose a laugh that she tried to conceal under a cough. “Ain’t that the truth?”
Giving the table a visual once-over to ensure she had everything, she looked up into eyes that mirrored the sun. “Cabs are pretty damn expensive around here, Brent. Let’s split the cost.”
“Told you,” he winked. “I say that’s a great idea.”
***
As they walked up the enclosed gangway into the lower lobby of the Neptune Majesty, there was an awkward moment of deliberation.
“I have to get going,” Jill began.
Brent looked at her in the pink sundress. Her bare shoulders had been exposed to the sun and now bore a deep blush. He followed the path of that rosy skin up her throat to lips that were slightly parted in mid sentence. She hefted the bulky sunglasses on top of her head, hauling her hair behind her ears to allow him a full view of her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks bore a tinge of color to match her dress and her eyes reminded him of the pools at the Atlantis−pastel shades of blue that grew darker in the deep end. She smiled, but Jill’s smile was more like a smirk, as if she were always was one step ahead of you. It was an infectious gesture and he could feel the muscles in his face respond in kind.
Al was no doubt anxiously awaiting an update, but Brent was reluctant to say goodbye to her just yet.
“You’re having dinner with your mother?” It was easier to ask the evasive question. Coward.
Jill nodded and cocked her head to the side, no doubt one step ahead of him.
“I’d like to see you again,” he admitted.
That compensated for his cowardice, but it was also stupid. He was on this cruise for one reason. Find Luis before he reac
hed Santo Domingo. Brent thought that if he could be one step ahead of the syndicate and have Luis in his possession, he would have the upper hand for any negotiations.
“You will find me.”
Brent blinked, startled by the echo and then realized Jill was speaking to him.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You will find me,” she smiled. “And if you don’t, thank you for the drink and a nice afternoon.”
Before he could wrap his mind around her words, Brent realized he was watching the back of Jill’s pink dress swaying. The elevator door closed, and she was gone.
Brent reached for his phone and pressed it up tight against his ear, looking for a quiet alcove. He stepped outside and felt the blast of heat and walked along the wall, hugging it like a vampire to avoid the sun.
“Yeah,” Al’s Dominican accent came across the connection. “Where you been?”
“I got off the ship for awhile.” Brent said, watching a couple stroll along the rail.
“I talked to my parents.”
“And?” Brent stood up straight, praying the phone signal would hold strong.
“They say they are fine. The man who answered…he only gave me a moment with them.” Al’s futility sounded across the connection. “This man, he said they will not be hurt as long as Luis shows up with the money.” Al’s voice came across in echoes. He must have been walking through the tunnel to or from the locker room.
“Dammit.” Brent was frustrated and concerned. “If only they had come up here for the playoffs. You’ve been talking about moving them to Florida.”
“They wouldn’t have moved, and they wouldn’t have stayed away for the playoffs…they have the pigs.”
Of course. The pigs.
Not wanting to sound fatalistic, but needing to acknowledge the facts, Brent said, “Al, let’s be honest, I don’t think Luis showing up with the money is going to end this. They’re going to want more.”
“I agree. Have you seen Luis?” Alfredo asked. “Maybe if you find him before he contacts anyone−”
Brent was banking on the fact that if he could get the money back from Luis, he could use it as collateral to ensure the safety of the Petris.
Emotional Waves Page 3
