by MJ Fredrick
Nat watched her fingers flex as they sat on the beach, looking out over the ocean. They’d fallen back asleep after making love this morning, then ate granola bars for breakfast. Now they sat in the sun, legs stretched before them, not talking. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, really, but he knew Tess well enough to sense something was going on in her head. Whether or not that something was in his favor, he couldn’t be sure.
“You want to be drawing.”
She looked up, brows lifted. “How did you know?”
He nodded toward her fingers. “You’d always get twitchy like that when you wanted to draw something. Do you have your sketchpad?”
“I don’t carry one anymore.”
If she’d told him she cut off her hands, he wouldn’t have been more surprised. As long as he’d known her, she hadn’t left home without a pad, sometimes even making him turn back if she’d forgotten it. “Why the hell not?”
“I haven’t wanted to draw in a long time.”
A year, he’d bet. Great. Something else to feel guilty about. “You miss it?”
“I didn’t. But now, yeah, a bit.”
He pushed to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
“I might have something in the plane.” An old log book, an old spiral, anything. If he made her happy, maybe it would soothe the uneasiness bubbling up in him. He didn’t know the cause, exactly, but he didn’t like it.
He opened the cargo door of the plane, rummaged through the pocket on the door and emerged with an old Moleskine and a pencil. The paper was lined, but he’d seen her draw on all kinds of paper. If she needed to draw, she didn’t care.
She grinned up at him when he returned, pad in one hand, pencil in the other.
“I drew something,” she said, and nodded at a sketch she’d made in the sand. The unmistakable outline of a cock.
Right then, the cause of the uneasiness became clear, and anger replaced it. He kicked at the drawing, smudging it, erasing the grin from Tess’s face.
“Is that what I am to you? Just a dick? Like your goddamned personal walking, talking vibrator?”
“What?” She sat back, arms braced behind her, as if taken by surprise.
“Is that all this has been to you?” He jabbed a hand toward the hammock, fear squeezing his chest, fear like he’d experienced the day she’d walked out. “Sex?”
“Nat, you’re not thinking that we’re back together, are you?” She asked the words cautiously, as if he was crazy and she had to talk him down.
Okay, maybe he was a little crazy.
“Of course I think we’re back together. I told you I loved you. And before breakfast—in the hammock. That wasn’t sex, Tess. That was making love. That was me showing you I still love you.”
She rolled to her feet then, her body tense as she faced off with him. “This is only sex, Nat. That’s all it can be. When we get off this island, I’m going back to my life, without you.”
“Why?”
“Why?” she echoed.
“Right. Why? You’re not happy. You’re lonely. You’re not drawing. You’re not painting. You’re not—you.”
“This is who I am now.”
He wouldn’t believe that. He shook his head. “It’s not who you wanted to be.”
“No, it’s not.” She lifted her chin and he braced himself for another onslaught against the Air Force and how it changed him and ruined their relationship. Instead, she pressed her lips together and folded her arms, turning away.
“This guy at the retreat—is he someone who would have made you happy?”
She pivoted toward him, tossing her hands in the air. “There is no guy, all right? I just let you think that so you’d keep your distance. Like that worked. Do you really think I’d sleep with you if I had someone else? What do you think of me?”
Hope flaring, he took a step forward. “Made love with me.”
Her head reared back, eyes dark. “Had sex with.”
“Made love with. Tess.”
“Just sex. We are not doing this again. I can’t.”
“Everything’s different now. I realized what I lost.”
“Do you mean me, or the Air Force?”
There it was. His temper flared. “Both. Jesus, Tess. You left me. Mike got hurt. You know what it was like dealing with both those things, not having you to turn to, not being able to come after you? And then watching how his wife stood by him when he couldn’t move his legs, when he couldn’t make love to her anymore—”
“And yours couldn’t stand by you when you worked late, right?”
He didn’t want to think about that, but yeah, there’d been a time he’d resented her for that. “I was thinking about lost time. I didn’t want to lose any more time with you. But if you want to go there, fine. Before you left, I was working long hours. Mike was deployed and I wasn’t. I felt like I had to do everything I could over here to make up for that, to make up for being able to go home to my wife every night, to make up for being able to go out to eat, to watch football on weekends, to make up for not getting fucking shot at. So I stayed late and I let you get mad at me. I never thought you’d walk.”
She rocked back on her heels, her face pale. “You never told me.”
He shifted his gaze out over the ocean. “You were my wife. I guess I thought you’d get it.”
“I would have, if you’d told me.”
“Then we both fucked up.” Time to be honest. “This wasn’t what I had planned.” He swept his hand toward the camp.
She stilled. “What do you mean, planned?”
“It was no accident that you missed your flight, that Carl arranged for you to fly with me. We planned it all.”
Her face reddened. “Carl? My assistant?”
Nat nodded. “He helped. But the plan was for me to take you to another island. I had a tent and supplies, champagne, a whole seduction planned. I never intended to take you to the resort. The storm kinda put a crimp in my plans, but—I thought you should know.”
Her mouth hung open in disbelief. “That you were going to kidnap me.”
He winced at the ice that laced her tone. She was right—it had been a dumbass idea. “It was an extreme idea, but you have to admit, being alone together on this island—”
“You manipulated me!” Her shrill proclamation sent birds flying from the nearby trees. “You brought me here under false pretenses, so how can any of this be real?” She waved her hand to the hammock, the beach, to him. “It can’t be. It was a mistake. A huge mistake.” He thought he heard regret in her voice, but couldn’t think quickly enough to take advantage of it. “It was the only way I could think to get you to spend time with me, so we could remember what we used to have. I still love you, Tess.”
She flinched at that, and turned her gaze away. He’d lost. He’d lost her. What an idiot.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth now?” she demanded, jamming her hands on her hips. “That this apology isn’t just part of your plan?”
Teeth grinding together, he nodded toward the horizon, mentally cursing Brandon’s timing. “Because if it was, the rescue plane wouldn’t be arriving right now.”
Chapter Seven
Tension knotted Nat’s shoulders as they rode back in Brandon’s twin engine. Tess hadn’t said a word since they’d heard the buzz of Brandon’s plane. She’d jammed her things back in her bag, avoiding the hammock at all cost. She’d watched Brandon land in the bay, and acknowledged him only when he handed her a sandwich and a soda, which she ate quickly, sending a twinge of guilt through Nat. Damn, he hadn’t meant for her to go hungry.
Brandon started the descent to the airport and Nat heard Tess gather her things. Moments later there was the beep of a phone, followed by a soft swear at the number of missed calls. He was grateful Brandon hadn’t jumped in with “I told you so,” though he’d given him the look. Nat scrubbed a hand over his mouth and looked out the window, watching the ground approach. Yeah, he’d fucked up, thou
gh, damn, he wouldn’t give up the past couple of days for anything.
He wanted it to continue. He’d made a breakthrough, he knew it. She’d been in his arms, but it hadn’t just been sex. She’d trusted him. Until she found out he’d planned to—well, kidnap was an extreme word.
He chanced a glance over his shoulder to see her bag tucked against her chest like a shield. Against him, no doubt. On second thought, he expected her to try to slug him with it.
But no, once they landed and came to a complete stop, she opened the door and practically ran across the tarmac to her car.
“So that went well,” Brandon said as she peeled out of the parking lot.
“I have some explaining to do.”
“Dude, give it up.”
“Can’t.” The hollowness in his chest wouldn’t allow that. More than ever, he knew he couldn’t go on without her.
“Maybe you ought to get some help with your next plan. You know, from someone who knows what they’re doing.”
On her third night back, Tess walked into her apartment overlooking the city. She flipped on the lights and crossed to her refrigerator, grabbing the remote on her way. All the creature comforts, yet she found herself longing for the island, the sound of the waves, the clear water of the pool. The warmth of Nat’s body behind her.
She dragged leftovers from last night’s Chinese dinner with Kate out of the fridge and set it in the microwave. Maybe it was Kate’s fault. Her eyes had gone all dreamy while Tess had described her time on the island, and she’d sighed when Tess told her about Nat catching fish for dinner, and making the hammock, finding it all too romantic.
“You don’t understand,” Tess had said, frustrated. “I was married to the man. Sure, he started out like that, but he became this other person, this person I didn’t know anymore, or like.”
“And he clearly regrets it, or else he wouldn’t have come up with this plan. You have to admit, that’s a pretty elaborate scheme, stowing supplies on an island, arranging you to miss your plane so he could sweep you away…even though you didn’t get to the right island. I thought you told me he never did things like that.”
“He never did.”
Tess felt a twinge of longing as she pulled the warmed over meal from the microwave. And the longing wasn’t for the pounding of ocean waves or the water of the pool, or the gorgeous skies.
It was for the man who she’d loved since she was eighteen.
Nat scrubbed at his freshly shaven jaw as he stood in the elevator of the downtown high rise. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall and scowled at the cowlick that wouldn’t quite lie down. He should have gotten a haircut, and maybe a new sports coat, before attempting this. The dress slacks—Brandon’s—were too loose, and the shoes from his military days were too tight.
Yeah, better to focus on his appearance than what he was here to do.
He was vaguely aware of female gazes following him as he exited the elevator on the sixteenth floor and walked into the ad offices. He scanned the area for Carl, but didn’t see him. Of course, Tess had sworn to fire him, hadn’t she? Poor guy. Nat should have checked in before, but he hadn’t wanted to give Tess a hint he was coming.
“May I help you?” the receptionist, a young brunette, demanded from behind a desk with a wooden barricade—there was no other word for it—around her. And did the girl know he could see straight down her blouse?
“Where can I find Tess?” he asked, resisting the urge to smooth his palm down the front of his blazer.
The girl’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
“Tess Reis.” No, she hadn’t kept her married name. And she didn’t go by Tess, maybe. “Teresa Bonner.”
The girl’s frown deepened, as if he didn’t know what he was talking about. Hell, maybe he didn’t.
“Miss Bonner!” she said finally. “Of course. I didn’t…think of her right away. Do you have an appointment?”
“No, she’s not expecting me.”
The girl’s eyebrows drew together. “She doesn’t see anyone without an appointment, Mr.—?”
“Then I’ll wait. Can you tell me, is Carl still working here?”
The thin lips turned down in disapproval. “I haven’t seen him in a few days. The rumor is, he’s in the mail room.”
Nat winced. He certainly hadn’t meant to get the guy in that much trouble. If nothing else came of his visit, he could at least try to get Carl his job back.
Then he heard her familiar voice, low and smooth under the sounds of the office. He pivoted to see her strolling out of an office with two men, a colorful file folded against her breasts. The two men were talking to each other and she looked from one to another, but appeared a hundred percent in charge, which was sexy as hell. Nat stepped forward, and the movement caught her attention. Her lips parted and her eyes darkened with surprise, then anger. Oops.
He heard her say, “Excuse me,” and she slipped between the two men. She strode across the office to him, stopping far enough away that he couldn’t touch her, but close enough so she could snarl at him.
“What are you doing here, Nat?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You really don’t.” She started to turn.
He stepped forward and grasped her arm. “I really do.”
“Should I call security?” the receptionist demanded.
Tess looked into his eyes and for a moment he thought she’d say yes. But then she squared her shoulders. “My office. Three minutes.”
Three. All right. He could do that. He followed her brisk stride through the office, aware of the curious gazes following them. She opened the door to a corner office, held it for him to precede her, then closed and locked it.
He didn’t think it was for the reason he hoped, though. Probably to slow anyone down from helping him when she threw him out one of those big plate glass windows.
She leaned against the door, arms folded. She’d lost the folder along the way somewhere, he noticed.
“Talk.”
“I—” Suddenly his mouth dried up and he couldn’t think of a thing to say. “I screwed up. I thought it would be wild and romantic and you’d fall in love with me again.”
“Nat, one thing I always could count on with you, even during the worst of it, was that you would tell me the truth. You lied to me.”
He struggled to hide a wince. “I—thought you’d need the time to warm up to me again.” Before she could say anything, he moved toward her, but the fire in her eyes warned him not to touch her. “I missed you, Tess. I was lost without you. I was desperate. I thought if we could spend time alone together we could work things out.”
Something faltered in her expression. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but he saw a vulnerability.
“All we worked out was that we were still good in bed together,” she said.
“There was more than that, and you know it.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze as she edged away from the door, crossing the room to the sleek black desk, using it as a barricade between them. He followed anyway.
“It was my fault our marriage ended,” he said. “My fault. I didn’t listen to you when you said I put my job first. I needed to do it while Mike was deployed, but I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. I never should have taken you for granted. You stood beside me when I made the commitment to go in, and I never should have turned my back on you.” He took a deep breath. “You talk about trust, and you’re the person I trust most in the world. The person I want at my back and by my side. I’d hoped to show you that on the island. I hoped to remind you what a good team we make. I wanted to ask you to come back to me and try again. I swear I’ll listen to you, and work with you, and love you, and never take advantage again.”
She shuffled some papers on her desk, looking down, not letting him know if he got through.
He drew another card from his mental deck. “You asked me what the tattoo means.”
She glanced up, curiosity lighting her eye
s, but she didn’t say anything. He shrugged out of the jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. Her gaze shot to the glass window behind him and she lifted a hand as if to stop him, but didn’t say the words, so he kept going. He stripped this shirt off, and stood before her in his undershirt. When she cast another nervous glance past him, he wondered if people were watching. He didn’t care. He shoved up his sleeve to reveal the tattoo, then reached into the front pocket of the slacks and drew out a ring.
“It’s this ring, the one thing you left behind.”
She reached across the desk and took the ring from his fingers, studying the intricate Celtic design. “You bought this for me at a craft fair.”
“Where you were displaying your paintings. You loved it, and we were broke—”
“And it turned my finger green.” She slipped it on now, focused on the trinket, but he could swear he saw tears in her eyes.
“I found it the month after you left, and I took it to a tattoo parlor.”
She lifted her gaze to his and her eyes were bright with tears. “Nat.”
He choked back the joy that wanted to emerge at her uncertain tone. Had he done it? Had he won her back? “I couldn’t come after you then, but I’m here now. I love you, Tess. I miss you. I want you back in my life more than I want anything.”
“Including your Air Force career.”
He spread his arms, indicating his civilian clothing. “It wasn’t the right fit for me. You are, Tess. Only you.”
She rounded the desk then, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He met her halfway and brought her into his arms.
