by Lori Wilde
He had an amazing body. Dressed in swim trunks and a thin white T-shirt. Rock solid. Athletic.
Her palms tingled, yearning to run over the planes of his flat belly. The spot between her legs ached for him. The fertile smell of sand and sea scented the air—potent, loamy, rich.
Scott’s gaze cradled hers, desire radiating from his eyes. Her blood thickened, stirred. A slow, languid heat.
He leaned over, curved his palm around her face, leaned in for a kiss.
She did not withdraw.
He kissed her. Wild, hot and hard. A relentless force to taste and smell and feel.
Consumed.
His mouth consumed her. He plundered, conquered, possessed. The demanding flick of his tongue against hers brought a famished response so intense she felt weak, as if all her energy had been drained.
Scott groaned and locked his fingers in her hair. Kissed her harder, deeper and wilder still.
The taste of him!
He tasted like goodness and sunshine and the Fourth of July all rolled into one. Nourishing. Sturdy. Patriotic.
Jackie could not have stopped if she wanted to. She inhaled him in sweet gulps.
While the world shrank down into the width of their mouths, she opened herself up to possibilities as yet undreamed. He disarmed her completely. Her lips shuddered against his mouth and her body molded to his. In Scott’s arms, she felt solidly anchored.
The sensation scared her.
She’d never wanted to be the kind of woman who locked herself into one port, one man, but why not? Her mind flirted with a dark thought. She put her palm flat against his chest and pushed back, breaking the kiss. Her lips felt swollen, bruised.
Scott’s eyes were murky, lust-filled, befuddled. “What is it?”
That’s when a throat-tearing scream shattered the peaceful afternoon.
INSTANTLY, SCOTT JERKED his head around to locate the source of the ear-piercing cry for help. Several yards away a woman staggered from the beach, frantically waving her arms. “Help! Help!”
The other tourists in the area froze, stared owl-eyed at the distressed woman.
Scott didn’t know what was up, but he reacted instantly. Born Ready. In under a second, he was on his feet, racing toward the woman. His head swam a bit from shifting gears. One minute kissing Jackie, the next in Coast Guard rescue mode, but he ignored it.
The woman was blubbering incoherently, tears streaming down her round face.
“What is it?” Scott demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders.
“My son, my son! I tried to carry him, but I…” She paused, gasped for air. “Shark! Shark! A shark got him.”
Shark.
That one word packed Scott’s veins in ice.
The mom broke from his grip, spun around and started back toward the beach. Scott could already see a boy in the shallow tide pool, blood staining the water. The kid was pale and lay unmoving.
It did not look good.
Scott outdistanced the mother, running full-out, all the while praying that the child would not die. He sprinted over the craggy rocks, barely winced as the sharp edges poked through the soles of his thin shoes. He waded in, stumbling on the slick surface.
The child’s eyes fluttered.
He was alive.
The relief that pulsed through Scott was short-lived. The boy’s leg was mangled and blood flowed too quickly. An artery was involved. Time was of the essence and they were seventy miles from Key West.
Scott glanced up to see Jackie standing on the shore. “Call the Coast Guard,” he said. “Ask for Carl Dugan. Tell him to send a seaplane. Now!”
Jackie nodded, her face controlled, emotionless.
Scott stripped off his shirt. The water hit him at the back of his knee. He twisted the T-shirt up, creating a makeshift tourniquet with it, and he leaned over to secure it around the thigh above where the shark had taken a vicious chunk of flesh from the boy’s leg.
Amidst the bright blood staining the blue water, Scott’s temple pounded as he reached down to scoop the limp boy into his arms. Poor kid. He couldn’t have been more than ten.
He was vaguely aware of people ringing the shoreline. He sloshed over the rocks, slipping and tripping. Salt water splashed up, stung his eyes. Undaunted, he slogged on. When something banged into the back of his leg, Scott went tumbling forward.
The pain hit a split second later.
Sharp and jagged agony seared through his calf and knocked him to his knees. On the shore, someone screamed. He felt sticky blood bloom, and slip hotly down his own leg.
Hell’s bells. He’d been bitten by a shark out in the middle of nowhere with a critically wounded child in his arms.
Coast Guard is on the way. You’ll both be okay. Just get out of the water before the damn shark attacks again.
Scott forced himself to stand in spite of the pain. His leg burned and throbbed. Dammit. This was not how he’d pictured the day ending.
“He’s been bitten, too!” The child’s mother screamed. “Oh, my God, oh, my God. The shark got him, too!”
Great. Here he was getting cold and clammy and dizzy and he had to deal with a hysterical mother.
Scott collapsed on the shore, the kid cradled tightly against his chest. He looked up at the sky and noticed how pretty and white the clouds looked. Fluffy. Nice.
“Scott?”
A soft, calm soothing voice came from a beautiful blonde staring down at him.
“Mermaid,” he croaked and reached up a finger to trace the prettiest strawberry-red lips he’d ever seen. He felt her warm hands on his leg. Inhaled her scent. Mermaids smelled so good. Not fishy at all.
“You’re going to be fine. Hang on.” Then the mermaid took the child from his arms. “I’ve got him. You can let go, Coastie.”
Reality faded in and out. He heard voices, but his vision was blurry. What a wimp. Passing out over a little shark bite.
Snap out of it, Everly. Rise to the occasion. Get up.
Shark bit. He’d been shark bit.
It’s not as bad as when you got shot with the harpoon. That random thought passed through his head. Because this time the mermaid was here. Everything was easier with a mermaid around.
The ground vibrated beneath him. What was this? An earthquake? Then he heard the familiar whir of helicopter blades.
Here comes the cavalry. Thank God for the Coast Guard.
“Scott, stay with me,” the mermaid commanded. “You’re doing fine. You saved the boy and he’s going to be fine, too.”
Hot dusty air blew over him. The sound of the helicopter blades grew deafening.
“Scott?”
He felt a smart sting against his cheek. The mermaid had slapped him? Who knew mermaids were so damned saucy. “Mermaid.”
“You are not going under. You hear me? How embarrassing would that be? Hotshot Coast Guard done in by a little bitty bull shark?”
A trash-talking mermaid. He reached up to finger a tendril of her blond hair. The earth shook so hard he could barely breathe. The sounds of a helicopter filled his ears. He smelled motor oil. His vision dimmed.
“Scott, stay awake.”
The mermaid sounded very faraway now. Please, pretty mermaid. Don’t go away. Not yet, not yet.
For one instant he was nothing but sensation. Enveloped in sound, vibration, smell. Except for sight. He couldn’t see much now. All he could see was a tunnel and at the very end a beguiling mermaid waited.
And then Scott heard nothing at all.
JACKIE FELT OUT OF PLACE in a hospital and she didn’t really know what to do, but it seemed like bad form not to show up.
There hadn’t been enough room for her in the helicopter what with Scott, the injured boy, the boy’s mother and the medic packed onboard.
So Jackie had taken Scott’s boat back to Key West, with all kinds of horrible scenarios circling in her mind. When she got to the hospital, the staff directed her to the waiting area. There she’d found a room packed with Coast Gua
rd. She’d almost fled, but the Sector commander, Carl Dugan, had seen her and motioned her inside.
“How bad is Scott?” she asked bluntly, trying her best to tamp down the dread that had been building inside her since the incident.
“Scott’s shark bite was a just bump and run,” Carl said. “The shark hit his calf but didn’t take any tissue. He lost a small amount of blood. Not any big deal really.”
“But he lost consciousness. Surely that’s cause for concern.”
“Not from blood loss,” Carl said. “His blood pressure dropped and he fainted. The doctor called it neurally mediated hypotension. Apparently, it’s not all that uncommon an occurrence in young, healthy people. The usual triggers are standing or sitting for prolonged periods, strenuous exercise, hot weather, emotional stress, and it most frequently happens after eating a meal. It’s not a condition that needs treatment.”
They’d stood during the long boat ride to the Dry Tortugas. They’d scuba dived. The weather had been warm and humid. The stress of taking care of the boy and getting shark bit. They had just eaten.
“Scott fainted? That was it?” Relief pulsed through her. Scott was going to be okay.
“Yeah.” The entire room rolled with laughter. “He fainted.”
“Well,” Carl said in Scott’s defense. “There was a shark involved. It’s not a pleasant experience.”
“If Scott is fine, then why is everyone here?”
“We’re here for the boy,” Carl said. “He’s in surgery. They’re working to save his leg.”
“What about the blood loss?”
“They had to give the boy blood, but thanks to Scott, he’s going to make it. If Scott hadn’t been there…” Carl left the sentence unfinished. “He’s a true hero. Even if he did faint.”
More snickers went around the room.
“So where’s Scott?”
“In a treatment room getting examined.”
“Well, if he’s going to be fine…” Jackie hesitated, torn on whether to leave or stay.
“Sit down.” Dugan patted the chair next to him. “He’ll be happy to see you.”
Jackie thought of a dozen excuses not to stay, but Dugan eyed her expectantly, so she sat. Secretly, she was glad that she could stay.
Half an hour later, a side door opened and a nurse appeared. She stood aside and Scott came through the door on crutches, a sheepish grin on his face. His right leg was wrapped up in an Ace bandage.
“He’s all yours,” the nurse announced.
The Coast Guard in the room jumped to their feet and saluted him as he hobbled into the waiting room.
“Sit down, knock it off,” he growled sheepishly.
Several guys came over to slap him on the back and call him a hero. He shook his head, burdened by embarrassment. Midway across the floor, he stopped. His eyes lit on hers and Jackie felt an inexplicable tightening in her chest.
“I fainted,” he said. “Like a little girl.”
“You saved a boy’s life. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You came.”
“I did.”
“I didn’t expect it.”
“Well, if I’d known you’d just fainted…” she teased. “I brought your boat back.”
“Thanks.”
Just then, two women rushed into the waiting room. One was a pretty girl in her mid-twenties with hair as dark as Scott’s, the other woman was older. Early fifties.
“Scotty! My poor baby.” The older woman ran to him. “You scared the daylights out of us!”
Scott’s face reddened. “Mom,” he mumbled, tolerating her exuberant hug. “It’s no big deal.”
“We were in Miami when we heard,” the dark-haired girl said. “Wedding shopping.”
“C’mon, I’m fine.”
His mother placed a palm over her heart. “After you got shot with that harpoon. After your father…” She trailed off.
“I know, I know, but everything is okay.”
Jackie started inching backward. She didn’t belong here. She was nothing more than Scott’s potential bed buddy. She didn’t want to get in the middle of a family reunion.
“Mom, Megan, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Scott said.
No, no, don’t do this.
Feeling like a rat in a trap, Jackie forced a smile as the two women turned to see who Scott was grinning at.
“Jackie, this is my mother and my younger sister, Megan. Everyone, this is Jack Birchard’s daughter, Jacqueline.”
She glowered at him. Gee, thanks for that.
“Oh, hello,” Megan said brightly and moved to extend her hand, forcing Jackie to take it. “Your father is amazing. I caught his latest documentary on PBS last week.”
“He’s pretty special.” Jackie nodded, tight-lipped.
“What’s it like having such a brilliant parent?” Scott’s mother asked.
“Brilliant,” Jackie echoed.
“Are you two—” Megan toggled a finger between Scott and Jackie “—seeing each other?”
“I was at the Tortugas with him when Scott fainted. I brought his boat back when he was airlifted.” Jackie jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I was just leaving.”
“You were airlifted!” Scott’s mother exclaimed, clucking over him like a hen over her chick.
Jackie shifted uncomfortably, gazed longingly at the door. It was just a few feet away. So close and yet so far.
Megan touched Jackie’s arm. “I just had a marvelous idea. Why don’t you come to our party Saturday night as Scott’s plus one? It’s at the aquarium. My boss is throwing my fiancé and I a belated engagement party.”
“You’re getting married? Congratulations.”
“Next weekend. Wait…” She turned to her brother. “You can still make it to the party, can’t you?”
Say no. Jackie prayed.
“Like a shark bite is going to keep me away from your engagement party,” Scott scoffed.
Megan directed her beaming smile back on Jackie. “So can you make it?”
“Um, I don’t know…I’ve got a lot of work to do and—”
“C’mon, Jackie,” Scott coaxed. “It’s the aquarium. Besides, I owe you. Let me make up for today.”
If you owe me, let me out of this!
She mentally willed the message to him, but he didn’t pick up on it. “No need,” she said. “We’re cool. Cucumbers.”
“You’ve got to come,” Scott’s mother insisted. “You were there for my Scotty in his time of need. I owe you.”
“I’m really busy. I’m a graduate student doing research for my doctorate and…”
“Everyone needs to take a break now and then.” Scott’s mother clicked her tongue.
What was it with this family and taking breaks? How did they ever get anything accomplished?
“Pretty please?” Megan coaxed.
Apparently, they weren’t going to let her out of this. Her eyes met Scott’s and he mouthed one word.
Sex.
Jackie fought to suppress a smile. Great. This was what she had to do to get laid?
“Yes,” she relented, even though she’d rather have a root canal than go to an engagement party. It was the reward afterward that she was searching for. “I’ll come.”
Her gaze met Scott’s again and she could have sworn he whispered, “Yes, you will.”
8
Living life one wave at a time.
—Megan Everly, daughter and sister of Coast Guard
IT BOTHERED JACKIE that she was looking forward to the party. In the past, parties had been nothing more than boring social obligations where she was forced to orbit her father’s sun.
But now? She found herself wanting to go.
It’s just because you want to see Scott again. That’s all. You need to have sex with him. Put out the fire he lit so you can get your head back in your research. This is medicinal. Nothing more.
She opened her closet. It was empty. She’d b
rought nothing with her for the summer beyond shorts, tank tops and swimming suits.
Great. She was going to have to go shopping. The only thing she hated worse than parties.
Irritated, she trooped to the boutique on the corner and ended up with a white sundress with cutouts of sailboats along the hem. It looked good against her skin and camouflaged her skinniness.
While trying the dress on, she studied herself in the mirror. She could do with a little extra meat on her bones. It wasn’t that she wanted to be so thin. She just forgot to eat much of the time, her thoughts caught up in her work. Food seemed so incidental. Something she had to remember to do.
“You’re not normal,” she muttered to her reflection.
“This isn’t the first I’m hearing of it,” her image taunted.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll always be a freak.” She headed out of the dressing room with the dress tucked under her arm and almost ran into the saleswoman, who gave her a weird look. Had she overheard Jackie talking to herself?
Jackie forced a smile. “I’ll take it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The saleswoman rang it up.
Jackie glanced at the clock, realized that Scott would be on her doorstep within half an hour. God, what was wrong with her? How did time slip away from her so easily? Why was she so much more enamored of the Key blenny than she was of people?
She rushed back to her apartment, and once inside, she tossed the dress on the couch, stripped off her clothes and strutted naked to the shower. To her, clothes were nothing more than something to cover your body. Not something to wish for or pine over. Ah, to be a fish with no clothes to worry about at all. Just swimming nude.
Yes, but you’d have to worry constantly about being eaten.
Well, at least that was something worth worrying about. Nothing like walking the social tightrope. Jackie blew out her breath, soaped up and then rinsed off. She had just stepped out of the shower when her doorbell rang.
Scott was early.
Her heart did an irrational tap dance. What was that all about? Frowning, she wrapped a towel around her and padded to the front door.
Scott stood there looking sexy with his hair combed back off his forehead. He wore a blue shirt and beige slacks. He looked freaking delicious.
