Stranded With Her Ex

by Jill Sorenson

  Daniela nodded. Working in the field meant dealing with whatever conditions were available. Running water, at any temperature, was a luxury.

  Taryn continued the tour, opening the first door on the left. “This is us. Brent’s room is the next one down. Jason and Sean are there, on the opposite side. And Elizabeth is the last door on the right.”

  The room was sparsely furnished, boasting a set of bunk beds, a small desk and one ladder-backed chair. She frowned, confused by the sight of her duffel bag on the lower bunk. “This is…our room?”

  “Yes. I hope you don’t mind. Elizabeth likes to keep to herself, but I prefer having a roommate.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Just between you and me, it gets kind of spooky around here at night.”

  Daniela fell silent, wondering if Sean was Taryn’s preferred roommate. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping with her. At least, not here. Daniela should have been too tired to speculate. All she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes for a few minutes.

  Taryn paused at the doorway, nibbling at her lower lip. “I thought I should let you know that you don’t have to pretend like nothing happened. It must be exhausting, putting on a polite smile for strangers.”

  Daniela gave her a blank stare.

  “Sean told me about the baby,” she explained.

  The blood drained from her face. “He did?”

  “Well, yeah. We’ve discussed it several times, actually. And I was here the night he got the phone call about the accident. So I knew already.”

  “You were here,” she repeated, her mind going numb. “With him.”

  “Yes. It was pretty awful, watching him go through that. The Coast Guard wouldn’t make a special trip, so he had to wait until the next morning to go back to the mainland. He wanted to take the whaler—alone, with no lights or navigation system, when it was pitch black out.” She shook her head, disturbed by the memory. “It was too dangerous, of course, so we couldn’t let him. He stayed up all night, pacing the living room, practically going crazy.”

  Daniela felt her throat tighten. She couldn’t imagine Sean acting that way. He was always strong, sensible and calm.

  She was the one who panicked, paced rooms and went crazy.

  Taryn gave Daniela a closer inspection, frowning at her bewildered expression. “You didn’t know?”

  “I knew he was here….”

  Thankfully, Taryn didn’t press for more details. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss. I know Sean’s all torn up about it, too.”

  “He told you that?”

  She blinked her wide blue eyes. “Well, sure. Who wouldn’t be?”

  Daniela remained silent, unable to answer. Sean hadn’t discussed any of his feelings with her. He’d never let her know what he’d gone through that night, never told her how he was dealing with the death of their child. And she’d never asked.

  She’d been too busy falling apart.

  Daniela wasn’t able to comfort Sean in his time of need, or even accept his comfort. After she’d come home from the hospital, she’d been an emotional wreck. Every time he’d tried to reach out to her, she shrank away.

  So instead of confiding in her, he’d turned to Taryn. Beautiful, fun-loving, easy-going Taryn.

  What man wouldn’t be tempted by a knockout blonde?

  Taryn glanced around the room. “If you don’t need anything else—”

  “I just want to be left alone,” Daniela said coldly.

  Taryn’s brow furrowed. She was pretty, but far from dumb. Behind her perfect features and pleasant smile, a not-so-sweet personality lurked. Daniela saw a hard-edged intelligence and a hint of dislike.

  “Of course,” she said, nodding. Her mouth twisted, making her look even less like a bubbleheaded college student and more like a woman who knew her own mind. Turning, she left the room without another word.

  Daniela fell back on the bed the instant she closed the door. Snubbing Taryn hadn’t made her feel any better. She wasn’t a vindictive person, and she didn’t enjoy hearing about Sean in pain. But she was shocked by the news that he’d opened up to Taryn, after being unable to share his feelings with her.

  She hadn’t felt this bitter since he’d filed for divorce.

  “Damn you,” she whispered, punching the pillow beside her. She wasn’t sure whom she was angrier with, Sean or herself. She was the one who’d had the emotional breakdown. She was the one who’d driven him away.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, bombarded by images of the past and flashes from today. Grinding metal and gnashing teeth.

  No one understood, but the least of her worries was personal injury. After spending those agonizing moments trapped in a crushed vehicle, eight months pregnant and literally bleeding to death, she was afraid of confinement and pain.

  But her greatest fear, by far, was loss.

  Losing their daughter, never experiencing the miracle of her birth, being robbed of her first smiles and first steps and first words…

  It was a thousand times more traumatic than any amount of physical distress.

  Feeling the agony wash over her, again and again, Daniela curled up in a little ball on the lower bunk, and, pressing her hands to her now-flat stomach, began to cry.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Avoiding Jason’s question, Sean shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the day fade away, contemplating this crux of his life.

  The last rays of sunlight stretched out across the water, hitting the chop and bathing the rippled surface with golden tips. At Skull Rock, only one eye was still visible, glittering darkly, like a demon waiting for the cover of night.

  Before Daniela’s accident, he’d loved this place.

  He’d been fascinated with sharks ever since he was a kid. Point Reyes, his hometown, was just north of San Francisco, in the heart of the Red Triangle. The area encompassed a portion of the California coast, including the Farallon Islands, and boasted more fatal shark attacks on humans than anywhere else in the world.

  The summer he turned fifteen, his parents separated, and Sean moved to San Diego with his dad, but he never forget his idyllic childhood in Point Reyes, those halcyon days before the divorce. They’d lived just blocks from the beach, and he and his dad had gone surfing together damn near every day.

  One unforgettable morning, when Sean was about twelve, they’d been out on the water, waiting for the next swell. A creepy sensation had come over him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The “sharky” feeling was one every surfer on the planet recognized. His dad felt it, too. They left the water immediately.

  Later that afternoon, another surfer had been bitten by a great white and bled to death on that very beach.

  From that moment on, Sean knew what he wanted to do. Studying sharks in general, and the white shark in particular, was his greatest ambition, his ultimate goal, his life’s dream. Just being near them made him happy.

  Or, it used to.

  Now he loathed this island. If he hadn’t been trapped here, fulfilling his last professional obligation before he took family leave, he’d have been with Daniela. He’d have been driving instead of her.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t have agreed to come to the Farallones again if he hadn’t owed Dr. Fitzwilliam a favor. Fitz had covered for him during the family emergency.

  “Do you think she should stay here?” Jason asked.

  “No,” he said, his voice grim. The sun had gone below the horizon, taking every hint of warmth with it. “But she says she can handle it.”

  “What happened to her?”

  Sean pulled his gaze from the water. “You don’t know?”

  “I haven’t spent much time in the States for the past couple of years. To be honest, I never connected her name to yours.”

  He hesitated, reluctant to tell the tragic story. In the weeks following the accident, Sean had been responsible for notifying dozens of friends and family
members about Daniela’s condition. Although he had the words memorized and could speak them without inflection, they were no easier to say the hundredth time than the first.

  “She was in a car accident during the third trimester of her pregnancy,” he began, his voice flat. “A drunk driver blindsided her SUV, leaving her trapped inside for several hours. She lost the baby.”

  Jason stared at him for a moment, trying to process the information. He swallowed hard and put his hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Jesus, man. I’m sorry. Really sorry. That’s terrible.”

  Sean clenched his jaw, hating this part of the process. But then, he hated all the parts. He knew Jason meant well, but Sean felt like a bear with a thorn in his paw. Watching another man comfort his wife, when he couldn’t, had put him in a very dark mood.

  It was all he could do not to shrug off Jason’s touch. He was more interested in a rousing fistfight than this clumsy display of kindness.

  “I had no idea,” Jason continued, a pained expression on his face. “No wonder she’s having a hard time.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should have done a basic background check before you signed her on.” He cast Jason a cutting glance. “Although, judging by the look of the crew this season, I can guess the criteria you used to make your selections.”

  Jason dropped his hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Knowing he was being an asshole, and not giving a damn, Sean tilted his chin toward the house. “All of the ladies inside are very easy on the eyes. I don’t think you could find a prettier group of female scientists if you tried.”

  The jibe was beneath them both. And Sean couldn’t have cared less.

  To his credit, Jason refused to take him seriously. “I chose them based on expertise and project diversity, not physical appearance, but what can I say? I got lucky. Next time you visit, I’ll make sure the girls are uglier.”

  Sean shook his head and sighed, his anger fading as quickly as it came. Jason was impossible to stay mad at. And Sean couldn’t begrudge his appreciation for the opposite sex; he’d always liked the ladies, himself. Although his parents’ divorce had been bitter, and his own more devastating still, he continued to enjoy the company of women.

  Just not with the same…vigor.

  Daniela used to tease him about his female friends, calling them his “followers,” but she’d never acted jealous. Not even when he was working in the field for weeks at a time. Of course, he’d always jumped on her the instant he walked through the door. It was one of the aspects of their relationship he missed most. He’d loved coming home to her after spending time apart. They’d never been able to get enough of each other.

  “Let’s keep a close eye on her for the next few days,” Jason said, returning to the topic of most importance. “She can always go back to the mainland if she needs to. The last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt here.”

  Feeling his throat tighten, Sean moved his gaze to the uneven shoreline, watching midnight-blue water slosh and slap against gray, perforated rocks. In the distance, the Skull was shrouded in darkness now, wearing an impenetrable mask.

  Chapter 4

  As Daniela came down the stairs, the aroma of sautéed vegetables and the sizzle of oil assailed her senses, along with the faint, sweet fragrance of sticky rice.

  She was hungry, she realized with surprise. Really hungry.

  Jason was in the kitchen, doing his magic. The top half of his black hair, which was even longer than Sean’s, was caught up in a Samurai ponytail. Despite the chill, his upper body was clad in a thin white T-shirt. The muscles in his arms flexed as he moved the sauté pan, and the edge of a tattoo flashed from beneath one short sleeve.

  He was very nice to look at, but her eyes slipped by him almost immediately, resting instead on Sean. Her ex-husband stood in the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a beer bottle in his hand.

  Men. Hot water wasn’t a necessity, but they always had beer.

  Under the harsh fluorescent light, he appeared older than the last time she’d seen him, a little wearier and a lot more weathered. His hair was still the same thick golden-brown, his eyes the same shade of dark honey and his skin as tanned as ever, but his demeanor had changed. When his gaze met hers, it was shuttered. He was hiding something from her, and he’d never done that before.

  Daniela became aware that a hush had fallen over the room. On the other side of a wall partition, but in full view of the kitchen, Taryn and Elizabeth were seated at the dinner table, laptops open. After a brief pause, they resumed tapping at the keys.

  Brent Masterson stood by the front window, hands in his pants pockets, as still and quiet as a shadow. He gave her a wry smile, acknowledging the awkward moment rather than pretending it wasn’t there.

  She drew in a deep, calming breath. “What can I do to help?”

  “You can set the table,” Jason said. He pointed with the spatula, indicating the cabinet behind Sean. “Plates are up there.”

  The kitchen was small, and she had to get very close to Sean in order to take the plates down. He flattened his back against the side of the refrigerator, but her elbow still almost touched his chest as she opened the cabinet door. The dark green sweater he was wearing looked familiar—she’d given it to him for Christmas, at least five years ago. Like him, it appeared a little worse for the wear. Used hard and work-roughened.

  Not that it mattered, on his body. Even threadbare, wash-faded fabric suited his rangy, well-muscled frame.

  Swallowing drily, she looked up into the cabinet. A stack of colorful ceramic plates sat on the top shelf.

  “Do you need me to get them?” he asked.

  “I can reach,” she said, standing on tiptoe. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body and smell his skin. If she lived to be a hundred years old, she would never forget his scent, warm and musky and deliciously masculine.

  Sean.

  She took down the stack of sturdy, mismatched plates, aware of his proximity and his watchful eyes.

  Her red long-sleeved thermal was a utilitarian item, sturdy and comfortable, but it fit snugly, outlining her breasts. She’d always had trouble finding clothes that weren’t too tight across the chest. Under Sean’s gaze, the fabric seemed to shrink further, making her feel overwarm and underdressed.

  It wasn’t as if he was ogling her. It was just that she couldn’t help but think of the many times he’d lifted her against any convenient flat surface, including the kitchen countertops, in their apartment.

  Heat rose to her cheeks. The memories seemed foreign to her, as if those intimacies belonged to someone else. The person she’d become didn’t respond like that, tearing a man’s clothes off as soon as he walked through the door.

  The woman she was now didn’t respond at all.

  “Silverware?” she murmured, avoiding eye contact.

  “In the top drawer,” Jason said. “Just forks will do.”

  Nodding, she counted out six forks and placed them on top of the stack. Adding a handful of napkins, she carried the bundle to the table, trying not to let her arm brush against Sean’s midsection as she walked out of the kitchen.

  Elizabeth and Taryn put their laptops away, helping Daniela set the table.

  After Jason brought out the food, there was a minor commotion as everyone gathered around the table. When Sean took the seat opposite Daniela, she found herself staring at him. She dropped her gaze to the forest-green knit across his chest, her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety.

  The sweater was seven years old, now that she thought about it. She’d given it to him on Christmas Eve, the same night he’d proposed. He’d hidden the ring in a lingerie box with a ridiculously sexy red teddy.

  It was a joke, because he knew she hated gifts like that. She hadn’t seen the ring at first. Annoyed by his poor taste, giving her trashy underwear on Christmas, after she’d bought him an expensive sweater, she’d almost thrown the box at him.

  Then sh
e saw his eyes sparkle with humor, and she looked again, finding the diamond. With a smile, he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife.

  That night, she’d worn the ring and the teddy.

  Daniela rubbed the empty place on her finger, blinking away the memories. Now the ring was hiding in a jewelry box at the back of her lingerie drawer. The teddy was in shreds, having been torn from her body by Sean on one of his homecomings. Blushing slightly, she lifted her gaze from the sweater to his shadowed jaw.

  His scruffy, don’t-give-a-damn appearance only added to his appeal.

  In contrast, Brent, to his right, seemed almost elegant. And then there was Jason. With his dark good looks and easy smile, he had an edgy style that was neither rugged nor refined.

  All three men were handsome—and eligible—as far as Daniela knew. The table seemed to shrink in their presence, and she felt acutely self-conscious. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a meal with strangers.

  Jason proposed a toast. “To new beginnings?”

  “To new beginnings,” Brent agreed, lifting his own glass.

  Sean’s expression was sardonic, but he went along with it, and Daniela followed suit, clinking her water bottle against Taryn’s. It didn’t escape her attention that a barren, inhospitable island was an ironic choice as a place to start over.

  Jason served the lumpia fresh, rather than fried, and it was a build-your-own affair. The ingredients were placed in the center of the table, and everything looked delicious.

  Daniela scooped up sautéed vegetables and shredded chicken, the filling for the moist, paper-thin wrappers. Rolling them up into neat little packages wasn’t easy, and no one but Jason was entirely successful. Although she was hungry, her frayed nerves wreaked havoc on her appetite, so she focused on chewing and swallowing, one small bite at a time.

  “This is your first visit to the Farallones, Daniela?” Brent asked.

  “Yes,” she said, glancing up from her plate. “How about you?”

  “It’s my first time, too. And Elizabeth’s, I think?”