“No, it’s actually really nice to know someone cares, and I think Jenny might even agree, after she got over being prickly about it.”
“So you think I have a shot with her?”
I shrugged. “I had the impression she was into Tristan.”
He snorted. “Who isn’t?” he said. “But while she might think he’s hot, I don’t know if she’s really into him. And he’s certainly not into her,” he added, peering at me over his sunglasses.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It isn’t Jenny that Tristan spends extra time talking to or sitting with when we’re not busy. And it isn’t Jenny that Tristan has his own nickname for, Red.”
I felt the heat rise in my face. “You’ve heard him call me that?”
“Yup. He doesn’t usually do it when others are around, but sometimes he slips. It’s adorable,” he drawled, dodging my halfhearted swing at his head. “But we were talking about whether Jenny might like me.”
“Well, she wasn’t unaffected by that kiss you laid on her this morning. So…maybe she isn’t opposed?”
“I can work with that. Okay, now back to you and our handsome Scottish deckhand.”
I thought of the previous nights and my encounters with Tristan on deck. The relatively sleepless nights had been worth it for those few moments alone with him.
“Ari, you’re blushing. What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing, really. I got up in the middle of the night the last two nights, and Tristan ended up sitting with me for a while.”
“Sitting with you? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Shut up.” This time I did whack him on the arm. “Do you want me to tell you, or not?”
“Sorry, I’ll behave.”
“The first night, I was pretty sick, but he told me some funny stories and cheered me up. Last night, I didn’t get sick while he was there. But I didn’t want to go below, and he couldn’t sleep, so we sat together for a while.”
“Just be careful. You know we’re not supposed to ‘fraternize’”—he rolled his eyes and made air quotes—“with the crew.”
“Trust me, I know. Besides, it’s not going to even be an issue. There’s no way Tristan is interested in me. He’s just a nice guy.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” I said, though more and more I found myself wishing it was otherwise. “Let’s go find the others. I could use some beach time.”
“Fine, then, change the subject. But we’ll come back to it—after all, we’ve got two-plus months together in a small, confined space. We’ll need something to talk about.”
It didn’t take long for us to find Amanda, Jenny, and Steve at the beach, playing Frisbee.
“You didn’t actually bring a Frisbee with you, did you?” said Kevin, kicking off his flip-flops.
“Nah, found it on the beach,” said Steve.
“I’ll watch,” I said. “I’m terrible at Frisbee.” Plus, my leg was aching after our walk through town, and I wasn’t up to it.
They played until the sun was low in the sky and Steve started whining for someone to feed him. He left the Frisbee where he’d found it (“though it would have been awesome to play on the ship!”), and we went looking for a place to eat.
We found a cheap restaurant where I ordered fried chicken and plantains. It was the best meal I’d had in ages, made better by the fact that we had another full day on land, so I could truly enjoy eating without worrying about getting sick.
But after we ate, Kevin dragged Jenny and Amanda up to dance to the piped-in salsa music, and Steve went to try out his high school Spanish on the girls at the next table. Without my friends to distract me, the earlier argument with my mother began playing through my mind, which naturally led to thoughts of Josh.
My head started to pound in time with the music, which had gotten louder. While my thoughts had been wandering, the place filled up, and there were people crowding up against my chair. Kevin and the girls were somewhere in the crush on the dance floor. No way was I going to try to fight my way over to them. I grabbed my bag and made my way to Steve, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Hey,” I shouted. “My head is killing me. I’m going back to the dock to wait for the shuttle.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” he said, though he clearly didn’t want to leave. “Give me like ten minutes and I’ll go with you.”
My head was going to explode if I stayed any longer. “No, I want to make the 1900 shuttle, which is in twenty minutes. I’ll be fine, the dock is just a few blocks from here.”
“Ari—”
“It’s fine.” I handed him some money for my dinner, told him to let the others know I was leaving, and shoved my way through the pulsating crowd to the door.
I emerged onto the street and took a deep breath of fresh air. The pain in my temples eased a bit. I turned right, walking as fast as I could without limping. Up ahead, blaring music spilled onto the street from a seedy bar. There was a pack of guys loitering outside.
There was barely any room on the sidewalk to pass them. Crap. I should have crossed the street farther back where no one would have noticed me, but now I’d have to walk through a gauntlet of boisterous local guys who had been drinking. Not smart. At all. I should have just waited for Steve.
I stepped off the sidewalk into the street and picked up my pace as I approached them. Maybe they wouldn’t notice me.
No such luck. As I passed, one of them wolf whistled, and they all turned to look at me. Oh, shit. I was clearly a tourist—a young, female one—by myself, and there were five of them. I could see the newspaper headlines now.
“¡Oye diablita, quiero llevarte a la gloria!” shouted one of them, to raucous laughter. I’d had years of Spanish in school, and even though it was always harder to understand native speakers, I got the gist. He’d said something about me being a devil and taking him to heaven. Back home, I would have rolled my eyes and kept walking, but this was different.
My body wanted me to run for it, but my head told me that running would only make it worse. Calm down and keep going. Don’t make eye contact, and don’t let them see your fear. They’re probably completely harmless, like any other group of guys in any other town cat-calling a girl walking by.
Probably.
I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I had a feeling if they saw me limp, they’d be on me like a lioness on a lame wildebeest. Something blocked my path, and I looked up to see one of them right in front of me. I turned left—two were there. I turned right—two more. Shit!
“¡Las pelirrojas son candela! ¡Diosa, caliéntame con un beso!” said the guy right in front of me with a suggestive gesture. Something about redheads being hot and him wanting me to “warm him up” with a kiss.
Oh, this was so not good.
A hand closed over my arm from behind. My stomach dropped. “Get off!” I shouted, thrusting my elbow into his gut and raising my left foot to stomp on his instep, like Josh had taught me.
“Red, it’s me!”
Tristan. I whipped around and looked up into blue eyes burning with rage. He shoved me behind him and faced the group of guys.
“¡Déjenla tranquila, o van a lidiar conmigo!” he snarled. Leave her alone, or you’re going to deal with me. The Spanish words sounded strange with his Scottish accent.
The one who asked me for a kiss, clearly the leader of the pack, laughed loudly and elbowed his friend. “O, ¿sí?¿Y cómo?” Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it looked and sounded the same in any language.
Tristan pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and flicked it open. “Te corto el calembo y alimento los peces,” he said, dropping his gaze toward the guy’s crotch. I hadn’t seen this side of Tristan before, and while it was scary to see the rage in his eyes and a knife in his hand, I was also thrilled that it was all in my defense.
The leader’s eyes widened, his cocky smile faltering. One of the o
thers nudged him, muttering, “Vámonos. Esa jeva no vale la pena.” Let’s go. This bitch ain’t worth it. Fine with me for them to think so. The leader held up his hands in mock surrender and backed away. Even though it was five against one, these guys were clearly all bluster and bravado against someone they considered easy prey. When faced with a real threat, like a six-foot-plus angry man with a knife, they were cowards.
Only when they’d disappeared inside the bar did Tristan return the knife to his pocket and face me. His hands held my upper arms. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak yet.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he hissed. “Weren’t you told not to wander around alone?”
“Y-yes,” I replied, unable to meet his eyes. He was furious—his whole body hummed with it.
“Then what were you doing? Walking by yourself, with your red hair—it’s like waving a damn red cape in front of a bull!” Okay, a little less thrilled by his anger now.
“I—”
“Ari! Are you okay?” Kevin ran up, the others right behind him. Bad timing.
Tristan whirled around to face them. “Why was she out here alone?” he shouted at Kevin.
“It’s my fault,” I said. Tristan turned back to me, his eyebrows raised. “I had a bad headache and just wanted to get out of there.”
“No, it’s my fault,” said Steve. “I shouldn’t have let you leave, no matter what you said.”
Tristan turned his death glare on Steve. “No, you shouldn’t have. Were the words ‘don’t go anywhere by yourself’ somehow unclear? You let a young woman walk off alone at night in a foreign country? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Steve looked utterly miserable.
“You are all part of the crew and you are bloody well expected to follow orders, whether you’re on the ship or not.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I’m going to walk Ari to the dock for the 1900 boat run. You guys can take the next one.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned to me. “Let’s go.” He stalked off, and I hurried to keep up with him, my leg screaming.
He glanced back, swore under his breath, and slowed down. “I’m sorry, Red, I forgot about your leg.”
“S’okay,” I mumbled. Dammit, I hated being weak.
We walked in silence for a moment. “It really was my fault,” I said quietly. “I should have just waited another few minutes for Steve, but I couldn’t stay there any longer, so I told him I’d be okay and left.”
He stopped walking and turned to face me. “That was foolish of you. You’re a lass alone in a foreign country. Anything could have happened.”
I stared at my feet, not having anything to say in my defense.
He sighed heavily, then reached out, tipping up my chin with his fingertips so that I had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry for being so harsh, Ari. But when I saw those guys surround you…they could have taken you anywhere, and I—we—wouldn’t have known where to look for you.”
An image ran through my mind: a dark alley and leering faces looming over me as I lay helpless. “Oh God,” I whispered, hugging myself to ward off the chill that swept over me. I was such an idiot.
Swearing in a language I didn’t know, he wrapped his arms around me, his body warming mine. I wanted to bury my face against his chest, breathe him in, run my hands over his strong body, but before I could do any of those things, he stepped back, peering into my eyes. “You need to promise me that you won’t ever go off alone again when we’re in port.”
“I promise.” Not a chance in hell would I do that again, if only never to see that anger in his eyes again. We started walking. “Tristan, do you think they would have…hurt me?”
His mouth tightened. “More than likely, they were just messing around, but I’m glad you didn’t have the chance to find out.”
“Me, too. What did you say to them, anyway?”
His lips quirked up. “I told them I’d cut off their dicks and feed them to the fish.”
He said what? I grabbed his arm, stopping us both in our tracks, and gaped up at him. “You can say that in Spanish?”
He burst out laughing. “You’re not shocked that I told them I’d castrate them, but that I said it in Spanish? I grew up around sailors from all over the world. They taught me a few things, including some key phrases and how to defend myself.” The smile left his face. “And I would have done it,” he added quietly, laying his hand over mine. “If they’d hurt you, I would have done it.”
My heart throbbed so hard I was sure he could feel it. “I— Thanks. That’s twice today,” I said, pulling my hand from under his and stepping back.
“Twice today, what?”
“That’s twice today you’ve saved my butt. First with the halyard, now with…those guys. You must think I’m completely useless.”
He faced forward once more. “You’re not useless, Ari. And besides, it’s my job to look after the students.”
My heart sank.
Chapter Eight
“This is what we risked our lives to see?”
Ignoring Jenny, I sat on a boulder in driving rain at the top of a mountain, took a swig of warm water, and thought about the discovery I’d made in the several hours it took to get to the top of Mount Isabel de Torres.
I’d never been terribly interested in hiking, being more of an under-the-water girl, but it was supposed to be the highlight of our stop in the Dominican Republic, and I’d wanted to give it a shot, to see if my leg was up to the task. Now I could cross it off the list.
I was definitely not a hiker.
It hadn’t started out too badly, to be fair. After breakfast, we’d gotten a ride to the base of the mountain and were told to follow the path of the overhead cable car. There was a statue of Jesus at the top, along with a manicured garden and some supposedly spectacular views.
I’d found a good walking stick, and had actually been enjoying myself. My leg had ached a little, but it had felt good to be among trees and exotic birds after days of being on a ship with nothing around but water.
But as we got higher up, the trail got worse. It had rained a lot in the past few days, and there were huge mud pits that we had to slog through. After the second of those, I no longer gave a crap about the trees or the birds.
Everyone else was ahead somewhere. I’d been keeping up okay, but then fell behind on a steep section and decided to just take my time.
It was then that I learned that Jenny wasn’t a hiker, either. Not that this was a brilliant revelation—after all, hiking generally implied getting dirty and possibly even breaking a nail. The flat-ironed, perfectly made-up, French-manicured girl who’d boarded the ship back in San Juan wouldn’t have been caught dead on a hike. To her credit, she’d chosen to do this one, but she and I were now stuck together on Mount Doom far behind the rest of the group. And she’d been bitching the entire way. I was glad Kevin was up ahead with the others. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t love this side of Jenny.
By the time we struggled up the last muddy slope to the top (after being passed by various shipmates on their way down), the rain was falling in sheets, making it impossible to see anything. And the cable car wasn’t running for some reason, so we were stuck on foot.
I got up from the boulder. “I’m getting the hell out of here. You coming?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
We were barely twenty feet down the steep, slippery path, when my foot went out from under me and I went down hard on my butt, spraying mud all over myself.
Jenny looked at me and cackled.
“I’m okay, Jenny. But thanks for asking,” I retorted. “Can you help me up at least?”
“Sorry,” she said, holding out her hand. I grabbed it…and yanked her down beside me.
There was glorious stunned silence for about ten seconds before she started shrieking. “I can’t believe you just did that!”
“And I can’t believe you fell for it.”
Seriously? But before I could open my mouth to tell her off, Jenny burst out laughing, a real, genuinely amused giggle. She laughed so hard she would have fallen over backward if I hadn’t caught her arm—which only made her laugh harder.
And then I joined in. So the two of us sat there, in the mud, dripping wet and filthy and laughing hysterically.
“Oh God, I can’t breathe,” she gasped. “If my friends back home could see me now, they’d think I’d been taken over by aliens.”
I had been thinking basically the same thing. I reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes. “No, wait!” Jenny cried.
But it was too late. “I just made it worse, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” she said gleefully.
I lifted the hem of my shirt, thinking I would wipe my face with it, but it was covered in mud, too. “I think it’s time to go,” I said.
Jenny got to her feet and held out her hand again. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned.
I grabbed her hand. She pulled me up, and we made our way down the trail, slipping and sliding here and there.
“What the hell happened to you guys?” Kevin asked when we reached the bottom. “Did you guys mud wrestle? Without letting us know so we could watch?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Kevin. Jenny and I, frustrated with the crappy view after spending hours slogging up there, decided the only thing that we could possibly do at that moment was mud wrestle. Right, Jenny?” I added, linking my arm though hers.
Playing along, she leaned close to me. “Oh yeah,” she said in a throaty voice, looking up at Kevin from under her lashes. “It was a-ma-zing. You totally should have been there.” I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh at her performance.
Kevin was speechless for a few seconds, and then gave Jenny a once-over, a slow smile curving his lips. “I’m really sorry I missed it. You have a bit of mud…just there,” he said, swiping his thumb across her cheek.
A Star to Steer Her By Page 7