Читать книгу Protector, Lover...Husband? - Heather Graham, Heather Graham - Страница 17

It probably wasn’t strange that he refused to release her instantly.

“You were spying on me!” he said.

“Spying—through a closed door?” she returned.

“You were listening at the door.”

“I wasn’t,” she assured him. His arms were wrapped around her midriff, and they were both wearing nothing but towels. “I was leaning against it.”

“Weakened by the sight of me, right?” he whispered huskily, the sound just against her ear and somehow leaving a touch that seemed to seep down the length of her neck, spread into a radiance of sun warmth and radiate along the length of her.

“I divorced you, remember?” she said softly.

“I’ve never forgotten. Not for an instant.” There was something haunting in his voice, and his hold hadn’t eased in the least.

“Would you please let me go?”

“Damn. You’re not charmed, standing there, me here, my body, your body…memories.”

She fought very hard not to move an inch, certain he was just taunting her, and afraid she was feeling so much more than she should.

“I never denied that you could be incredibly charming,” she said, trying for calm, as if she were dealing with a child. “When you chose.”

“I’m choosing now.”

“Too late.”

“Why? We’re still technically married, remember? Here we are…together, you know I won’t leave this cottage, and I think you believe my concern for you is real. And you are my wife.”

In a minute she would melt. She might even burst into tears. Worse, she might turn around and throw herself into his arms, then cry out all her insecurities and her belief that they’d never had a chance of making it.

“David, let me go,” she said.

“Whatever you wish.” He released her. The minute he did, she lost her towel.

She turned to face him, deciding not to make a desperate grab for it. Standing as casual and tall as she could, she shook her head. “That was a rather childish trick.”

“It wasn’t a trick. I let you go and your towel fell off. Not my fault.”

“Well, thank God you still have yours.”

He grinned and dropped his towel. And his smile, as well.

For a moment he stood there, watching her, with no apology at all for the visible extent of his arousal.

He took a step toward her, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms, hard and flush against his length. She knew, though, that if she protested with even a word or a gesture, he would let her go again.

She meant to say…something.

But she didn’t. His fingers brushed her chin, lifting her face, tilting her head. Neither of them spoke. His eyes searched hers for a moment; then his mouth met her lips with an onslaught that was forceful, staggering. It took only the touch of his lips, the thrust of his tongue, the simple vibrant crush of his body, and she felt the stirring of sexual tension within her so deeply that she thought she would scream. If he had lowered her to the tile floor then and there, she wouldn’t have thought of denial.

But he did no such thing. His lips and tongue met hers with a flattering urgency, and his hands moved down the length of her back, fingers brushing slowly, until they had cleared the base of her spine, curved around her buttocks and pressed her closer still. She felt the hard crush of his erection against her inner thighs, equal parts threat and promise, a pulsing within, creating a swirl of pure sensuality that possessed some core within her. Weakened, shaking, she clung to him, still intoxicated by the movements of his lips, teeth and tongue.

And his hands, of course, pressing, caressing…

She drew away as his lips broke from hers. She needed to say something. Married or not, they shouldn’t be here now. She had moved on. For the first time she had felt chemistry with another man. With…

She couldn’t even recall his name.

David’s mouth had broken from hers, only to settle on her collarbone, where his tongue drew heated circles, then move lower.

“David,” she breathed. He didn’t answer, because the fiery warmth of his caress had traveled to the valley between her breasts, and with each brush of flesh, she felt the need for the teasing to stop, for his lips to settle, for his body to…

“David…”

Her fingers were digging into his shoulder then. His tongue bathed her flesh, erasing any little drops that remained from her shower. Everywhere a slow, languid, perhaps even studied caress, everywhere, until those areas he did not touch burned with aching anticipation. Her abdomen was laved, thighs caressed, hips, the hollows behind her knees, her thighs…close…closer…

“David…”

“What?” he murmured at last, rising to his full height, still flush against her, yet meeting her eyes. “Don’t tell me to stop,” he said, gaze dark and volatile, “Alex, don’t tell me to stop.”

“I—I wasn’t going to,” she stuttered.

He arched an eyebrow.

“I was going to tell you that I couldn’t stand, that…I was about to fall.”

“Ah,” he murmured, watching her for the longest moment as heat and cold seared through her, heat that he held her still, cold, the fear that had come before, that he would leave her, that her life, like her body, would be empty.

“I—I don’t think I can stand,” she said, swallowing, lashes falling.

“You don’t need to,” he said, and he swept her up, his arms firm and strong, his eyes a shade of cobalt so dark they might have been pure ebony. He moved the few steps through the hall, eyes upon her all the while, pressed open the bedroom door and carried her in. And still he watched her, and in the long gaze he gave her, she felt the stirring in her quicken to a deeper hunger, urgency, desperation. It was almost as if he could physically stroke her with that gaze, touch every erogenous zone, reach inside her, caress her very essence.

She breathed his name again. “David.”

At last he set her down, and though she longed just to circle her arms around him, feel him inside her, he had no such quick intent. He captured her mouth again, kissed her with a hot, openmouthed passion that left her breathless. And while she sought air in the wake of his tempest, he moved against her again, mouth capturing her breasts, tending to each with fierce urgency. She felt the hardness of her own nipples, felt them peaking against his mouth and tongue, and then the cold of the air struck them and brought shivers as he moved his body against hers. This time he didn’t tease, but parted her thighs and used his mouth to make love to her with a shocking, vital intimacy, until she no longer arched and whispered his name, but writhed with abandon and desperation, unable to get close enough, unable to free herself, ravenous for more and more.

Sweet familiarity. He knew her. Knew how to make love to her. Time had taught him to play her flesh and soul, and he gave no quarter, ignored the hammering in his own head, the frantic pulse in his blood, a drumbeat she could feel against her limbs. She cried out at last, stunned, swept away, crashing upon a wave of physical ecstasy so sweet it left her breathless once again, almost numb, the beat of her own heart loud in ears. But before she could drift magically back down to the plane of real existence, he was with her, as she had craved, body thrusting into hers, their limbs entangled. The roller coaster began a fierce climb once again, driving upward with a frenetic volatility that made all the world disappear and, in time, explode once again in a sea of sheer sensual splendor, so violent in its power that she saw nothing but black, then stars…then, at last, the bedroom again, and the man still wrapping her with his arms. Shudders continued to ripple through her, little after currents of electricity, and as they brought her downward, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer sexual prowess of the man and the almost painful chemistry they shared.

He rose up on his elbow, slightly above her, and used his free hand to smooth a straying lock of damp hair from her face. She was startled to see the tension that remained in his eyes as he studied her. And she was more startled still by the husky tone in his voice when he suddenly demanded, “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated.

“Why did you do it? You didn’t call…you didn’t write. You sent divorce papers.”

She stared back at him. Why?

Because I couldn’t bear the thought of you having this with any other woman—ever. Because I was losing you. Losing myself. I was happy at your side, but I needed my own world, as well. And I was sure that one day you would realize I wasn’t the kind of woman you could spend forever with.

She didn’t speak the words. It wasn’t the time. She was far too off balance. She moistened her lips, desperately seeking for something to say.

“Sex doesn’t make a marriage,” she managed at last. He frowned slightly, staring at her still.

She pushed him away from her. “David…you’re heavy,” she said, though it wasn’t true.

But he shifted off her. She rose and sped into her bathroom, where she just closed the door and stood there, shivering. Finally she turned the shower on and stepped beneath it. If they had really still been married, he would have followed her. He could do absolutely incredible things with a soap bar in his hands, with suds, with water, with teasing, laughing, growing serious all over again, heated…

He didn’t follow her. She didn’t know how long she stayed in the shower, but when she emerged, he had left her bedroom.

She found a long sleep shirt and slipped into it, then paused to brush out the length of her now twice-washed hair. She realized that she was starving, yet opted not to leave her room.

She set the brush back down on her dresser and noted that her array of toiletries was out of order. The women in housekeeping never touched her dresser, which she kept in order herself, or her desk and computer, in the spare bedroom. Had David been going through her things?

She had a dolphin perfume dispenser. It wasn’t valuable, but it was pretty and meant a lot to her, because her parents had given it to her for her tenth birthday. It was porcelain, about five inches high and beautifully painted. She always set it in the middle and arranged the rest of her toiletries around it. Now the dolphin was off to the side and a fancy designer fragrance was in the center. By rote, she rearranged the perfumes, talcs and lotions.

No big deal. Just…curious.

She shrugged, still thinking about making love with David. One part of her wondered how the hell she had lived without him, without being together like that, for an entire year. The other part of her was busy calling herself the worst kind of fool in the world.

Then she reminded herself that she shouldn’t be dwelling on personal considerations at all. A man had died today. This time there was no doubt that she had found a body.

In her own mind—and, apparently, in David’s—there was no doubt that she had found a body on the beach, as well. And in David’s mind, that body had belonged to Alicia Farr. His friend? His sometime lover? Either way, it had to disturb him deeply, and yet…

And yet, there they had been tonight.

She set her brush down, completely forgetting that the toiletries on her dresser had been rearranged.

Then she crawled into bed. Somehow, she was going to make herself sleep.

Alone.

She really could look like an angel, David thought, opening the door to her bedroom. She was sound asleep in a cloud of sun-blond hair, her hand lying on the pillow beside her face. Just seeing her like that, he felt both a swelling of tenderness…and a stirring of desire.

Determinedly, he tampered down both.

He had the coffee going; he’d returned to his own place in a flash for clothing, and then put out cereal and fruit for breakfast. He hadn’t forgotten that he’d promised Zach that he would show him—and his mother—the Icarus, and mentioned to the boy that they might meet for breakfast, but it was too early to meet them, and if Alex had maintained her old habits, she would forget to eat during the day, so she needed to start out with something.

And he needed to talk with her.

He walked into the room, ripping the covers from her and giving her shoulder a firm shake. She awoke instantly and irritably, glaring at him as if she were the crown princess, and he a lowly serf who had dared disturb her.

“Breakfast,” he said briefly.

She glanced at her alarm. “I don’t have to be up yet,” she told him indignantly.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Trust me, you do.”

She groaned, resting her head in her hands. “Really, David, this is getting to be too much. Listen, last night was…nothing but the spur of the moment. You need an ego boost? It was just the fact that you do have nice buns and you’ve managed to ruin my one chance for a nice affair here. At any rate, you can stay here if you want to, so knock yourself out. But I’ve just about had it with you acting like a dictator.”

“Then maybe you should quit lying to me.”

“About what?” she demanded, looking outraged.

“Danny Fuller.”

She groaned. “Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Get up. There’s coffee. That always seems to improve your temper.”

“I don’t have a temper.”

“I beg to differ,” he told her, and added, “Come on, out here, and you can eat while you talk.”

He didn’t let her answer but exited the room. Just after he had closed the door, he heard the pillow crash against it.

He turned and opened it. “No temper, huh?” he queried.

She still wasn’t up. Tangled blond hair was all around her face, and she was in a soft cotton T-shirt that didn’t do a thing to make her any less appealing. It should have been loose, but somehow it managed only to enhance her curves.

He closed the door quickly before she could find something else to throw.

In the kitchen, he poured two cups of coffee, then hesitated where he stood, tension gripping his abdomen in a hard spasm.

What the hell had gone so wrong between them? He’d never met anyone like her. He loved everything about her, from her eyes to her toes, the sound of her voice, her passion when she spoke about dolphins, teaching, the sea, and the way she looked when they made love, the way she moved, touched him, the smell of her, sight, sound, taste…

He’d never fallen out of love with her. When he’d received the divorce papers, he’d been stunned. She hadn’t said a word. But it was what she had wanted, so, bitterly, silently, he had given it to her.

He started, putting the coffeepot back as she stumbled into the kitchen, casting him a venomous gaze and reaching for the coffee he had poured for her. She took a seat on one of the counter bar stools, arched an eyebrow to him and poured cereal into a bowl and added milk.

“All right, let’s get to it. What was my relationship with Danny Fuller supposed to have been? Did I have a thing going with the old guy or something?”

“Don’t be flippant.”

“I don’t know what the hell else you want me to be. Of all the stuff you’ve come up with since you’ve been here, this is the most ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All right, I’ll tell you. Alicia Farr spent all the time she could with Danny Fuller during his last days at the hospital. And in their conversations, two things kept coming up, dolphins—and your name.”

She stared at him. He couldn’t believe she had been hiding anything, not the way she was looking at him.

She shook her head at last. “Danny Fuller came here, yes. I liked him. He really liked dolphins, and you know me, I like anyone who likes my dolphins. Sometimes we talked casually in the Tiki Hut. He told me about some of his adventures, but if there was something he wanted to do but never attempted, I swear to you, I don’t have the faintest idea what it was.”

“Did he ever mention a ship called the Anne Marie to you?”

Staring at him, she gave it a moment’s thought, then shook her head slowly. “No. He never mentioned it, and I never heard any stories about a ship named the Anne Marie from anyone else.”

David lowered his head. Too bad. It would have helped if Alex had known something.

He gazed up at her again thoughtfully. Either she really didn’t know anything or she had added acting to her repertoire of talents. Which might be the case. He had just about forced his presence here. And last night…

Well, according to her, it had been the situation, nothing more. Too many days spent on an island.

“So?” she said. “Is that all you wanted? Is that why you were so insistent on ‘protecting’ me? If so, honest to God, I can’t help you.”

“No. You’re in danger. If two corpses haven’t proven it to you, nothing will.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Forget that. You, apparently, have heard about a ship called the Anne Marie.”

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“She was an English ship that went down in the dying days of the pirate era, in 1715. Records have her sinking off the coast of South Carolina. But the story of her sinking was told by a pirate named Billy Thornton—a pirate who apparently expected a reprieve and didn’t get one. As he was about to be hanged, he shouted out, ‘She didn’t really—’”

“She didn’t really what?” Alex demanded.

“Well, people have mused that he was about to say she didn’t really go down anywhere near South Carolina. You see, before he was caught, he claimed to have seen the ship go down in a storm that ravaged the Eastern Seaboard, but some historians believe he attacked the ship himself.”

“He couldn’t have attacked the ship alone,” Alex pointed out.

“Some legends suggest that since he was off the Florida coast, it would have been easy for him to go ashore, and kill his own men with the intent of going back himself for the treasure.”

“And what was the treasure?” Alex demanded.

“There are full records in the English archives somewhere,” he said, “but basically, tons of gold buillion, and a cache of precious gems that would be worth millions today.”

Alex shook her head. “I don’t understand. There must be hundreds of ships with treasures that sank in the Atlantic and are still out there to be found. Why would people kill over this one?”

“Most people wouldn’t kill over any treasure. But the bounty to be found on this particular ship would be just about priceless.”

“Did Alicia think she knew where to find the Anne Marie? If so, she should have announced an expedition and gathered people around her. No matter what, she’d have to go by the laws of salvage.”

“Yes. But she was afraid, I think, of letting out what she knew. Afraid that someone would beat her to it.”

“Why would Danny Fuller have hidden whatever information he had for so many years? If he knew something, why wouldn’t he have gone after it himself?”

“I wondered about that myself. Maybe he just found out. It’s my assumption that Alicia learned something from Danny Fuller about where the Anne Marie went down. She intended to set up an expedition, and that’s why she wanted to meet me here. But she must have talked to other people, as well. And I think someone she brought in on her secret decided that they wanted the secret—and the treasure—for themselves.”

“The thing is,” David said, hoping he was making an impact on her, “someone is willing to kill for that treasure. And I don’t think this person wants the government involved in any way. If he—or she—thinks he can bring up a fortune without the authorities getting wind of it, then I’m assuming whatever information Danny Fuller had, suggested the vessel went down in shallow waters, and that the tides and sand have obscured her. You know, kind of like time itself playing a joke, hiding her in plain sight.”

“So…you believe Seth Granger was involved—invited here to meet Alicia, too, and that he didn’t just drown, but was killed?” Alex asked.

“It’s a possibility,” he said. “A probability,” he amended.

“How? He was in the bar with everyone else. And he’d clearly been drinking too much. And if someone did kill Alicia, and it was her body that I found…how in the hell did it just disappear?”

“Obviously it was moved.”

“Have you talked to Sheriff Thompson about this?”

“Not directly. I haven’t had a chance. I had Dane call him, though, and give him all the information he acquired when I asked him to check into things.”

“Great,” Alex murmured. “Do you have any idea who this person is?”

“Someone with an interest in the sea and salvage. I thought at first that it might have been Seth, but now…apparently not.”

“Who else might Alicia have invited here?” Alex asked. “Or who else might have gotten wind of what was going on?”

“Well, Seth was rich—he could have provided the funding she would need for the expedition. She invited me for my expertise. I’m not sure who else she might have invited.”

“So who might have found out something?”

“Your boss, for one.”

“Jay? But he isn’t an expert salvage diver. As far as I know, he’s competent enough on a boat, but he doesn’t have the kind of money you’d need for an expedition like this and…” She paused and shrugged. “I see. You think he’d like to have that kind of money. And he would love to be respected for a discovery of that kind.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Not Jay.”

“There’s Hank Adamson,” David said.

She stared at him incredulously. “He’s a reporter.”

“And he’s very conveniently here right now.”

“I think you’re reaching,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“Is there anyone else on your list of suspects?” she asked.

“Just one.”

“Who?”

He hesitated before answering. “Your ex–navy SEAL,” he told her quietly.

She rose, pushing her cereal bowl away. “I have to go to work,” she said curtly, turning her back on him.

He went after her, catching her arm, turning her around to face him. “Please, Alex. Honestly, I’m not trying to run your life, much less ruin it, but for now…just until we get to the bottom of this, don’t be alone with anyone, okay?”

“Except for you?” she asked, and her tone was dry.

“Except for me, yes,” he said flatly.

She tried to pull away.

“Alex, please?”

“I have to go to work, David,” she said, staring at his fingers where they wrapped around her arm. She met his eyes as he let her go and added bitterly, “You really don’t have anything to worry about. Last night might have been…unintended, but still, I’d never switch around between men with that kind of speed. I like John, yes. I admire him, and I certainly enjoy his company. But I have a few things to settle with myself before…Under the circumstances—let’s see, those being that we’re not legally divorced and we may have two murders on our hands—I’ll be taking my time getting to know anyone. Will that do?”

He hated the way her eyes were sharp and cold as they touched his. But she had given him the answer he needed from her. He nodded. She turned and headed for the bedroom, and a few minutes later, wearing the simple outfit she wore to work with the dolphins, she came back out, heading straight for the door.

She turned back and said, “Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.” A slight frown creased her forehead.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just don’t forget to lock up before you leave. My keys are by the door. Please make sure you pick them up.”

She walked out, and he felt as if an icy blast passed by.

Alex’s actual degree had been in psychology, with a minor in marine sciences. But as far as her work went, she had learned more from an old trainer when she had interned in the center of the state. He had pointed out to her that the same theories that worked with people also worked with animals. Most animals, like most people, responded best to a reward system.

With dolphins, a reward didn’t have to be fish. Like people, they craved affection.

Take Shania. She accepted fish and certainly had a healthy appetite. But she also seemed to know that her vets and the workers here had given her life back to her. The best reward for her came from free swims with the people she loved, mainly Alex and Gil. That morning, after feeding her charges with Gil, Alex entered the lagoon with them, one at a time, for a play period.

At eight, an hour before the first swim was due to begin, there was still no sign of Laurie Smith. Concerned, she called Laurie’s cottage, then her cell phone, and received only her voice mail. Worried then, she called Jay.

“I don’t know where Laurie is,” she told him. “She isn’t here, and she isn’t answering her phone.”

“Give her fifteen minutes, then we’ll start a search. She’s been talking about taking a few days to visit her family in St. Augustine, but I can’t believe she’d just leave without asking for the time. Unless…she’s just walking out on us,” Jay said over the phone.

“She loves her job. She wouldn’t just walk out,” Alex told him.

“I’ll send someone around to her cottage,” Jay promised. “By the way, we may be evacuating our guests and the majority of our personnel soon.”

“Evacuating?” she said, stunned.

“Don’t you ever watch television?”

“Sorry, I just haven’t seen the news lately,” she murmured.

“That storm stalled. The forecasters still believe she’s heading for the Carolinas, but at the moment she’s standing her ground. She’s still not a monster storm, and this place is equipped with an emergency generator, but we can’t keep the whole place running if we lose electricity and water. We’ll move everyone inland for a few days if the storm doesn’t take the swing she’s supposed to by tomorrow. Along with most of the staff.”

Alex hesitated. “I’m not leaving,” she said, and added a hopeful, “Am I?”

She heard his sigh. “No, Alex, if it’s your choice, you get to stay.”

“Thanks.”

“You know a lot of people would want to be out of here in the blink of an eye,” he cautioned.

“This place has weathered a few storms already. The storm room is perfectly safe.”

“I knew you wouldn’t leave your dolphins unless someone dragged you off,” Jay said. “All right, let me go. I’ll get someone out to check on Laurie.”

“Thanks.”

Alex returned to the main platform area, where all guests met before breaking into two parties, no more than eight swimmers in each lagoon. Guests began to trickle in to get flippers and masks, and she and Gil started to handing them out. She was somewhat surprised to see that Hank Adamson had joined the swim again—she’d gotten the impression that he was doing each of the resort’s activities just once so he could give an assessment of it.

He shrugged sheepishly when she smiled at him. “I actually like this a lot,” he told her.

“I’m glad.”

“Getting close to the dolphins…well, it’s a whole new experience for me. Their eyes are fascinating. It’s almost as if they’re amused by us. They’re kind of like…wet puppy dogs, I guess.”

“Much bigger and more powerful when they choose to be,” she said.

“Your dolphin swim is the best program here,” he told her.

“Thanks.”

That day, she let Gil give the introductory speech. In the middle of it, she saw Laurie Smith at last, hurrying to the platform.

A sense of relief swept over her. She realized that, deep in her heart, she had been secretly fearing, that Laurie had disappeared—that she, too, would float up somewhere in the water as a corpse.

She frowned at Laurie, but Laurie looked chagrined enough already. And Alex wasn’t about to question her here.

“You’re all right?” she asked Laurie briefly as her friend came up next to her.

Laurie nodded, but the look she gave Alex was strange.

“What’s wrong?” Alex demanded.

“Nothing. Well, everything. Not with me, though. And we’ve got to be quiet. People are looking at us. And what I have to tell you…We need to talk alone.”

Alex couldn’t help but whisper, “I was worried about you. Where have you been?”

Laurie gave her a look again, indicating that it wasn’t the time or the place. “You have to swear to keep what I say quiet.”

“You know I will, if I can.”

“Not if you can. You have to listen to me. And you can’t say a word,” Laurie whispered. “I mean it. Not a word.”

“As long as you’re all right. And you’re not about to tell me something that will endanger the dolphins or anyone else. Where have you been?”

“Hiding out,” Laurie said.

“Why?”

“There was a corpse on the beach that day. Definitely.”

“How do you know?”

“Because there’s an undercover Federal agent on the island.”

“What are you talking about?”

Laurie didn’t get a chance to answer.

“All right,” Gil announced loudly. “Time to split into groups. Those of you who received green tags with your flippers, head off with Alex and Mandy. Mandy give a wave, so your people see you. Those of you with red tags, you’re with Laurie and me.”

“Later,” Laurie whispered. “We’ve got to talk. People are being murdered here.” She hesitated, seeing that the groups were forming and she needed to hurry. “You’ve got to watch out for David, Alex.”

“Watch out for David? I thought that you liked him.”

“Yes, I do, but…he has a lot at stake. He…he might be the murderer.”

“What?” Alex said.

“Shh! We’ll talk,” Laurie said. “Alone, Alex. We have to be alone.”

Before Alex could stop her, she was up and heading off with Gil. Without creating a scene, there was nothing Alex could do.

Stunned, she watched Laurie walk away and pondered what she’d said. David? A murderer? It couldn’t be.

Could it?