She fell overboard.
Cold water stole her breath. So cold.
Freaking hell cold.
And wet.
She came to the surface for a moment and gasped for air before her head dipped under the water again. Panic seized a tight grip around her. When she opened her mouth, foul lake water filled it.
Her nostrils burned. She refused to give up and breathe in the water.
She failed.
The frenzied movements of her arms and legs seemed detached from reality. They pushed and pulled—reaching for the surface but unable to get there.
The water became a solid force around her. She kicked and pushed against it, her lungs burning. Nearly at the surface she opened her mouth to take in a breath, but it was only more water, and then the pull of the lake drug her down again.
Tightness cinched around her middle, and she shoved against it, using her fingernails to dig into whatever clutched at her. Then, just as quickly as she’d gone under, her head emerged from the depths and she spit out a mouthful of lake water.
She gasped, but the air was heavy in her abused lungs. Another jagged breath and she prepared to go under again. She fought against the lake. Fought against the solid trap holding her tight around the waist.
The water threatened to engulf her again. She couldn’t go under. Not again.
“You’re safe.” The words were repeated as a mantra against her ear, again and again. “I’ve got you, Princess.”
William.
Reality replaced overwhelming panic as she focused on his arm and stopped thrashing. He continued speaking, low and calm, while he swam a lazy one-arm stroke. He held her back against his chest, moving them toward the capsized canoe.
She surveyed the lake, focusing on everything but the water. Her pulse started to even out. She wasn’t drowning.
She gripped William’s arms harder as a sob ripped straight from her heart.
Chapter Fifteen
Lucy clung to William’s arm as he held her above the water. He paddled with one arm toward her life jacket floating near the canoe. Her lungs ached, and she pinched her eyes closed against the splashing water.
“I won’t let you go. Relax with the fingernails, yeah?” William said against her ear.
She instantly loosened her grip and tried not to focus on the imminent threat of drowning.
The neon orange life jacket floated near the boat. He snagged it and turned her to face him. “I’m going to put this on you, hold still.”
With one arm around her waist, he slipped the opening over her head. She gripped his shoulders and held on tighter.
His head dipped under the water.
The life jacket kept her afloat, but she didn’t release her grip on him.
He bobbed to the surface, his mouth barely above the water. “Let—”
“Will!” she cried out as he slipped under again.
His head barely came out of the water. “Let go—”
“Are you insane? I’m not letting you go!” She fought to keep her grip on him.
He gripped her fingers in his, holding them in a vise. His head finally emerged above the surface. He coughed and spat out a stream of water. “Stop trying to save me, or I’m going to drown,” he said on a gasp.
Oh.
She stopped trying to save him.
He righted himself and coughed some more. “The other night? When you said drowning was the worst way to go? Yeah. We’ll stick with that theory.”
Lucy held to the foam life vest as he attached the Velcro on the sides.
“Can you kick your legs?” he asked.
She nodded.
Her legs tangled with his as he guided them toward the shore. The thick muscles of his thigh brushed against hers and, well…damn. Even with everything happening, she still desired him. Her breaths came quickly, and her pulse pounded ruthlessly. It had nothing to do with the water, and everything to do with him.
“Don’t be scared. We’re almost there. Think of something else.” His words were raspy.
Hells bells, he must have misinterpreted her body’s inappropriate carnal reaction with panic. Think of something else. He didn’t have to tell her twice.
She ignored her body’s traitorous response. C’mon. Anything else. She spit out a mouthful of water after a small wave bobbed up.
William loosened his grip around her. “Put your feet down, you can touch.”
She did as she was told. Relief soaked through her as her soggy tennis shoes found the bottom of the lake.
He kept his arm around her shoulders as they stumbled to the rocky beach. “You don’t do things halfway, do you?”
She lifted her chin so their gazes met.
Concern filled his eyes. “You okay?” William slid a hand against her neck and pulled her forehead against his shoulder.
Oh heavens, this was nice. Too nice. “If I say yes, will you let go?”
He chuckled. “Not a chance.”
…
Lucy glanced up from the lunch she was unloading from the room service tray when the door to the cabin opened.
William stalked through. He scowled at the floor but didn’t say a word.
“You okay?” he finally asked, gruffer than usual. “From the lake.”
“I am.” Aside from the present hot flash thanks to his abdominal muscles currently on display.
He snagged his sandwich and leaned against the counter, his gaze focused on his bare feet. Five huge bites with very little chewing, and he finished. He tossed the plate in the sink, crossed his arms, and glared into space.
“Hey, if it cost money for the boat thing, I’ll pay for—” she started.
He pulled a small box from his pocket. She barely caught it when he tossed it to her. A gasp escaped her lips when she recognized the logo on the box as a prescription medication for erectile dysfunction.
“Why?” she asked.
“That’s my question.” His eyes were blank.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, breathier then she intended. Damn, but she already knew. Sarah. Rebecca. They got to him.
“Max caught me up at the lodge. Explained he’s a special kind of doctor. The kind that works with men who have particular issues.” He made air quotes at the last word as Rebecca had in therapy.
Lucy smacked a hand to her mouth.
“Seems his wife told him about our problems in the bedroom and asked him to help us out. Would you like to explain why you gave me syphilis?”
Uh-oh. Lucy took a deep breath and whispered through her fingers. “You weren’t supposed to know.”
“You give a guy an STD, he’s gonna find out.” His stony expression added to the shame piling up inside her.
She scooted backward, stopping when her legs hit the dining table. “Hang on. I didn’t give you anything.”
“Right,” he clipped. “You never told Sarah and our therapist that I can’t get it up?”
“Well, now, the thing is…” She swallowed the lump of regret forming in her throat and licked at her lips. “I did kind of do that. It’s not what you think, though.”
He rubbed a hand over his hair.
“Ten days.” That muscle directly under his jaw twitched. “In ten days, there will be an announcement about my takeover of Crestone. Ten days, and this will be regional news. Crestone is a multi-million-dollar company, so it could even be national news. The last thing I need is for some yahoo to want his shot at fifteen minutes and announce that I have venereal disease. Which. I. Do. Not. Have.”
“Max is a doctor. He can’t say anything.”
“Technically, he’s not my doctor. Nothing prevents him from blabbing.”
Oh.
First, holy mackerel had she screwed up in amazing proportions this time. Second, Crestone was worth that much? Wow.
She opened her mouth to speak but had no idea what to say so she closed it. Then she opened it again and closed it again. “I didn’t realize.”
He stared at her
with raw intensity.
She glanced away. “I’ll talk to Sarah and I’ll find Rebecca.”
“No. No, you won’t. You won’t talk to anyone about this. I’ll call my attorney and somehow explain to her why we may need to issue a statement regarding my sexual health. She’ll love that.”
If he clenched his teeth together any tighter, they’d probably shatter. He waved a hand. “Not that I have much pride left anyway. It’s like the reality show all over again. The media will twist this, spin it, and tear me apart.”
“I am so sorry.” Acid burned her stomach. “So sorry.”
He studied his feet, and his right hand moved to his neck, rubbing the indentation near his back.
“You know what? So am I.” The emptiness of his expression when he glanced up didn’t only sting. No, it branded her.
“Will, it was an innocent comment. One I regret.”
“It wasn’t a comment. It was a lie.” This time he caught her gaze, and his disappointment colored every bit of his handsome face. “I thought I knew you better than this. But you know what? I don’t. I know nothing about you. Not really. I know you don’t like water, and I know the little crumbs of information you’ve tossed my way. What are you so afraid I’m going to find out?”
Where would she even begin? She didn’t want him to know so much, didn’t want him to remember.
“Lies of omission are still lies,” he said when she didn’t respond. His words were a direct hit that didn’t only burn, they cut.
She always sought out the truth and hated lies. William had paid attention to her in a way she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. No one had ever handled her with such care. He was genuinely compassionate toward her.
And she’d ruined it.
“I’m going for a hike.” The tone William used was neutral, like he didn’t care either way.
She couldn’t let him go alone. Not this upset. Not when it was her fault. Not when he had literally saved her life. “Can I come?”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
She nipped her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll grab my shoes.”
Clearly, he was done pursuing her. And she could absolutely understand his reasons.
Good. It would be done. They would be done.
Damn.
Chapter Sixteen
In hindsight, wearing her Converse tennis shoes on the lake that morning was a bad idea. They were soaked. Unwearable. Which left her orange Hawaiian-print flip-flops. Looked like she was hiking in flip-flops.
She found William on one of the planked cedar benches. He leaned back against the outside wall of the cabin, his ankle crossed over his knee.
Lucy’s heart lodged in her throat. “Hey.” She took a step forward, unsure what else to say.
William had always treated her warmly, but this time he only gave a terse nod. His gaze didn’t meet hers. “I’ll carry the backpack.” He took the bag from her shoulder, avoiding any contact, before he slipped it over the strong muscles of his back.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
She shuffled a few steps behind him in awkward silence, a nagging quiet that punctuated how badly she had screwed up.
William turned left at a fork in the trail.
“Did you get a map?” The words stuck thick in her throat.
He continued forward, as if unfazed by her question. “Don’t need one. The trail goes around the lake, looping back to the lodge.”
“I know it’s against man code to carry a map, but maybe we should turn back and get one before we get too far on the trail.” Her big toe snagged on a jagged stone, scuffing the skin so a drop of blood pooled at the nail. It began to throb.
Head down, she scanned the ground to avoid rocks. When he stopped two steps ahead, she stumbled into him. He reached to steady her, his expression cold.
“Right, we don’t need a map.” She gripped the soles of her shoes with her toes to keep herself steady.
His gaze met hers only a moment before that expression of indifference she hated so much snapped back into place. This wasn’t right at all. From the day at the gas station when her window had broken to the game of Confessions at the cabin, he had constantly given bits of himself to her. Now, for the first time in his presence, loneliness crept in. So afraid of sharing too much, she had rationed the information she gave him. He hadn’t been wrong when he said she dodged his questions. A lot.
She couldn’t unwind the past, but she could push herself. Trust him.
Columbine flowers sprouted along the thin, steep trail where they hiked in silence.
William marched ahead of her, and she did her best to match the pace he set. As the trail rounded across the edge of a cliff, her entire focus switched to not taking a header onto the jagged rocks. The grip of her flip-flops slipped, and she stumbled to her knees with an oof.
William helped her up. She wiped the dirt from her kneecaps.
“Will?” she asked softly.
He paused. His expression had gentled when she fell. It remained kind.
She squeezed his biceps to keep him from turning away. “I confess I like almost all the colors.” She had to do this. Give him more. Work toward a friendship. “You asked the night we played Confessions. I didn’t answer because, well, I didn’t want to get too close. But you should know, I don’t have a go-to favorite. It depends on the day.”
He didn’t respond but didn’t move either.
“I also confess I didn’t get my first kiss until I was almost twenty years old. You asked that, too.” In the distance, a low murmur of thunder answered her confession, but nothing from William. “What else do you want to know about me?”
“Everything, Luce.”
A handful of fat raindrops splattered on the rocks around them.
She drew a breath of damp mountain air as more thunder rumbled, closer this time. She could do this. Trust him.
“M-my given name is Lucille. My parents are Berta and Graham. Before I moved to Confluence, everyone called me Lulu, but I’ve always preferred Lucy.”
Now I prefer when you call me Luce.
Those golden eagle eyes scoured her face as she spoke. She searched his right back to catch the spark of any memory. She was Lulu. He had to remember. She was ready for him to remember.
C’mon William.
His eyes remained blank. Nothing.
She blinked against the realization that she had changed so much he truly didn’t remember her. Or, perhaps, more likely she hadn’t been important enough for him to remember anything about her in the first place. She had been one of many on the production crew. His attention had been…elsewhere that entire time.
Her heart sank. The biting hope she’d held deep inside that who she had been might not matter to him corroded away to nothing. It would matter, he would only see her as who she had been—the person she’d worked so hard to blot out.
William stepped toward her. “Why are you in Confluence? Why here?”
“People aren’t nice to me, Will. I used to be such a mess. But I fixed that, and I realized the only thing I have is my career. I want to be a reporter more than anything I’ve ever wanted in the world.” She sucked in a lungful of mountain air. “I came to Confluence because the station has a reputation for letting those of us in the back have some time in the spotlight, too.”
More raindrops started to fall. Neither of them moved. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them.
“Lucy…” William dropped the backpack and reached for her.
She raised a hand to him, stumbling back. “I’m so sorry. For everything today. So, so sorry. I get it. Whatever was starting between us is over.”
A pulse at William’s temple pounded hard with each beat of his heart. At the moment, it worked overtime. He stepped forward and tilted her face to his, running his finger against her jaw.
He sucked in a harsh breath. “Lucy, I’m…I…”
Whatever he was about to say washed away as the storm opened above them. It was for t
he best, there weren’t words to fix what she’d messed up. Raindrops quickly turned to sheets of water slashing across the trail.
He rubbed his hands up her arms before turning her forward on the trail. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”
She tripped down the hill as her stupid sandals slid against the mud. William gripped her arm to hold her steady while the thunder pounded angrily. They hurried toward the base of the mountain, the evergreen trees providing little cover as they plodded forward, slipping along the soggy gravel of the embankment.
The trail ended at the lake. And, damn, they came out on the opposite side. The lodge was barely visible through the storm. They should’ve turned right at the fork. It would be at least two more miles around to find shelter.
“This is where that map would have come in handy, huh?” she asked, glancing up at him.
He grunted. “This way.”
She followed blindly. When they turned a corner, a small building sat squat among the trees. Canoes, rowboats, and a motley assortment of oars were stacked haphazardly outside. Lightning flashed nearby, and he pulled her along beside him. He let go of her hand to try the door, but it was locked. He pushed harder with his shoulder.
No luck. The rain continued to drench them.
“Stay here,” he yelled over a clap of thunder before he disappeared behind the back of the shack. She wrapped her arms around herself. How smart was it to take cover in a metal shack during a lightning storm, anyway? She was standing there alone, shivering, when the door opened, and William ushered her in.
She stepped inside. “How’d you get in?” The place was stacked top to bottom with life jackets, a wall of fishing poles, and a small desk.
“The window wasn’t locked. I climbed through.” He set down the backpack and unzipped it to rummage around. “Don’t suppose you packed a towel?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Come here.” The softness of his tone was at odds with the storm raging outside. He motioned to her as he sat against the pile of life jackets. She plunked down next to him, and he drew her close. Surely, he did it to warm her.
Oh boy, did it. She practically turned into a cloud of steam as his hands rubbed against her skin. Each stroke echoed in a much more intimate place.
The Honeymoon Trap Page 13