In an effort to control her own environment she'd taken self-defense courses and learned to pay more attention to her surroundings. Maybe that was why Sean Flannigan ruffled her feathers. There were too many things about him that didn’t add up. Single men didn't come to a place like this for a three month stretch. They had jobs, families, obligations.
She squirmed, remembering the jolt between them that fired her blood. Pure desire, plain and simple no matter how much she searched for a different reason.
She glanced over and caught her mom's eye. Anna sat talking to the couple from Ohio, and Kayla decided to join them. "Did you eat anything, Mom? I didn't see you with a plate."
Anna smiled and told the couple, "My daughter watches over all of us. She does all the worrying in the family.” She laughed and put her hand over Kayla's. "I'll eat when we get home. I'm having too much fun talking to all these nice people."
Kayla nodded. "How are you enjoying your summer vacation?" she asked the young couple. "I saw the creative sand castles the boys made today. The whale was particularly good." Customers were terrific. Her goal was to make them come back, year after year.
"Why, thank you," the father beamed. "I might have had a little hand in that."
"I figured as much, Jeff." She grinned. "How about you, Mary? I saw you filling the pail up with wet sand." Kayla’s time working at the other hotels had taught her how to be whatever her guests needed. Usually it required listening.
"That's as creative as I get." Mary patted her husband's knee. "And we are enjoying ourselves enormously. So far this week, we've done the Everglades tour—which the kids are still talking about. They got so excited seeing alligators and turtles, and all the other crazy-ass wildlife. Didn't they, honey?"
"Sure did. We got some great pictures of the 'gators too. Boys were jumping around the boat so much, I was afraid they'd tip us over."
Mary laughed. "That's true. It got scary for a sec." She reached into her handbag and pulled out her digital phone. "Look at some of these pictures."
"Oh my!" Anna said. "That is the biggest, meanest looking 'gator I ever did see."
"Told you it was scary," Mary said, clearly delighted as she took her phone back. "Yesterday, we went to the water park at the Aquatic Center, and today we snorkeled the reefs—thanks for setting that up for us, Anna."
Jeff nodded. "But the highlight? Caught myself a shark this afternoon. Doesn't get better than that.”
Anna laughed and clapped her hands. "Bravo. That was brilliant! Weren't you the teensiest bit worried? I mean, pulling a shark onto the boat?"
"Darn near shit my pants." He chuckled. "Excuse my French."
Kayla couldn’t help but be charmed by his enthusiasm. "Think of all the bragging rights you’ll have back home! Scary or not." Could she be sued if he’d gotten bit?
He grinned, his teeth white against a sunburned face. "It's all been real great. We'd like to do this again next year."
"Well, that's nice to hear.” She hid her relief. “I'm sure we can give you a ten percent discount as a repeat guest. An incentive to bring you back. Right, Mom?"
"Sounds good to me." Anna picked up her glass and raised it in a toast. "Cheers to a return visit and making more memories."
Kayla sipped from her glass, then stood up. "I'm going to make my rounds and call it a night. Enjoy the rest of your evening." She left the Conley family and moved on to the honeymooners.
Ken lifted his empty glass. "What's in these drinks? I'm half buzzed already, but tastes so good, I think I'll have another." He rubbed his rotund belly and flashed a toothy smile. "How about you, darlin'?” He patted his wife’s knee. “Will you join me?"
"Sure," Linda answered. "If it's not too much trouble?" She pulled her adoring gaze away from her new husband toward Kayla.
Kayla picked up their glasses. "No trouble at all. We have another blender full, and still plenty to eat. Go help yourself to a plate, while I refill your drinks."
She noticed that the couple were both a little unsteady on their feet as they lurched to the table, so Kayla filled their glasses with ice, and topped them off with the daiquiri mix. She didn't want any accidents around the pool. But if it happened, she knew CPR, and was a strong swimmer.
"Here you go. They're pretty potent, so take it easy and enjoy all the good food." She waved. "See you all in the morning. I'll be up bright and early."
"Night, Kayla. Thanks for everything. This is the best damned honeymoon we could have imagined. Isn't it, babe?" Ken put a hand on his wife's shoulder and drew her closer, kissing her neck. "Let's go back and get naked."
Linda giggled and put her hand over her mouth, blushing like a virgin bride. "Oh, my. You are buzzed, aren't you?"
"I'm buzzed about you." He dropped a kiss on his wife's nose.
"Good night, you two." Their affectionate demonstration should have embarrassed her, but didn't. Love was a beautiful thing. She knew that, and it might be part of her disappointment over what she had shared with Brian. What their relationship had been missing. "Have a great evening. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Their laughter followed her as she exited the pool. She was tired and glad to make an early escape. Her sisters were lying on deck chairs, feet up, sipping and eating, and talking about heaven knows what. Her mother was happy chatting with the Conleys, probably bragging about her grown children or regaling them with her days as a Broadway star.
Instead of returning to their cabin, she decided to sit for a few minutes on the pier. She loved the quiet, the scent of the humid, salty air, and listening to the waves lapping against the posts. She stayed to watch the sunset, the sky giving her a painted masterpiece as it changed from a soft pink, to a deeper purple, then almost a dark blue. It was the favorite part of her day. Work done, time for a little reward and reflection.
Feeling someone's eyes upon her, Kayla turned her head. Glancing down at the marina to her left, she noticed a tall figure on what she thought was Sean's boat. But she'd seen him leave the pool and return to his cabin. When had he retraced his steps and come back to the pier?
She stood up to get a better look, but his back was to her. The boat was sliding away from the dock, and she put her hands on her hips as he raised the sail and headed out to the open sea. Where was he going at this time of night?
All kinds of nefarious things happened after dark.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sean, readying the boat for his evening sail, noticed Kayla sitting at the end of the pier. She'd been dangling her long legs over the edge, and had braced herself with her arms, leaning back, head tilted, watching the kaleidoscope of colors as the sun lowered on the horizon. He couldn't see her expression, but he could imagine the look of pleasure on her face.
He hesitated for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. It would be easy to go over, invite her for a sail. Perhaps steal a kiss, feel the warmth of that hot body in his arms. Those luscious breasts pressed to his chest, her hips cradled next to his. It was a nice fantasy, but she probably wouldn't give him the time of day. If she did, what could he give in return?
Love? His heart was empty. A future? He didn't have one. All he could offer was a night of passion. Would that satisfy a woman like Kayla?
His manhood stirred, as if it knew the temptation going through his mind. But bringing Kayla onto his boat, making passionate love, even for just one sweet moment? That would be plain stupid. He might be a coward, suffering some kind of PTSD. That he'd agree with, but stupidity was not one of his faults.
His problem was that he was weak right now, and weak men made mistakes. He may not have returned from war, but he displayed post traumatic stress disorder symptoms just the same. Watching his daughter die slowly, day after day, month after month, year after year, and unable to do anything to help her, had been as traumatic as it gets.
Having sex wouldn't make his pain go away, and he didn't want to share his grief with anyone. He was a physician and as such, had to heal himself.
He tu
rned away from the sight of Kayla and motored out of the marina, heading for the open seas. He had no destination in mind, no interest in seeing anything but the beauty of a billion stars overhead and the fading sunset. There was something infinitely peaceful about being out alone on the water at night. The white sail billowed in the dark blue sky and he didn't set a course, but let the breeze take him where it chose.
Hours passed as he lay back watching the stars and the moon rise in the sky. He felt closer to Sara out here, almost as if he could reach out a hand and touch her. It was silly he knew, but he liked to think that she could see him too. Alone, on a sailboat, away from the crowded streets, the hospital that had been his life, the career that had stolen so many hours which should have been spent with his family.
He may have been sleeping for a couple of hours when the roar of an engine startled him awake. The sailboat rocked unsteadily as he watched a Coast Guard boat fly right on by.
His interest piqued, he decided to follow, and see what the rush was about. He got his binoculars out and saw a boat in the distance with too many people aboard, hanging perilously onto the sides and each other. He knew they were risking their lives to cross the ninety-mile Florida Strait. He watched as the Coast Guard approached and shouted a warning. The overcrowded vessel turned around, heading back to the land they came from.
He lowered his sail and ran his motor at a lazy pace, keeping well clear of the Cuban waterways. During that time he popped open a beer, ate some potato salad and two chicken legs. The moon was drifting in and out between the clouds and he couldn't see more than twenty feet in front of him.
Sean was heading back to the resort in the wee hours of the morning when he heard an unusual noise. He cut the engine. Something splashed in the distance. Probably a good size fish or a small shark. A cry split the night air.
What the hell? Goosebumps dotted his arms.
A seagull, he rationally decided, but then he heard it again. No bird made a sound like that.
Curiosity won out and he stood up, hoping to catch sight of a dolphin pod. If they had babies with them, that would explain the shrill noise. He reached for his binoculars again just as another piercing cry echoed over the still water. Louder this time. More urgent. Human, he’d bet his medical license on it.
"Socorro! Help."
Good God! His eyes searched the dark water but he couldn't see anything. He set the binoculars down on the dash, and reached for the radio next to the wheel. The Coast Guard protected the waterway, and if someone was in danger they could assist far better than he.
Sean hesitated. What if these people were wiling to risk everything for a better life? Not that it was his concern, but he would hate to see them sent back, like the previous over-crowded boat closer to Cuba. He was a half-mile away from the Florida shore. They'd almost made it.
"Is someone out there?" he shouted.
"Help!" he heard again. Clearly. In English.
Sean dropped anchor and lowered the ladder on the outside of the boat. He grabbed a large flashlight, searching the water. Someone was out there, and they needed help. His help. As a surgeon used to working in emergency situations, he embraced the rush of adrenalin like a lost friend.
"Hold on! I'm coming to get you. Keep shouting so I can find you."
Now he heard more than one voice, and he ran around the boat from side to side shining the light on the water. Finally he saw some drift wood. Then he noticed the people clinging to it.
"I've spotted you." He cautiously turned the boat in their direction. Terror gripped him. One wrong wave and he could hit them. Fail them, as he had his daughter.
His hands shook and his stomach heaved. He had to save them. He was a damn doctor, and that's what he was trained to do.
"How many of you are there?" he shouted. "Can you swim to me?"
"Tres. Mi familia," the man answered in broken tones. "My son—weak."
Sean heard another cry, a frightened, feminine plea. Her exhausted calls for help tore at his heart. A boy lifted his damp head, hanging on with one hand while waving the other. "Socorro! Signor, save us!"
"Hold on. I'll get you."
He let the boat drift in their direction. Flashing his light he saw three pale faces bobbing out of the water.
The man gave him a relieved smile that held no humor. "Mi esposa. Esta embarazada," the man said. Tears flowed down his cheeks. "Help!"
Sean spoke enough Spanish to know that the man said his wife was pregnant. And he knew the situation was urgent. He didn't have time to call the Coast Guard.
The man had one arm hooked around his wife, the other hugging his son to the driftwood. How much longer would they have lasted out here? "I'm here now. First the boy. Can he reach my boat?"
Seeing assistance, the boy excitedly let go of the wood he'd been clinging to and flapped his arms in the water, but he started to go down. His father reached out and pulled him by the shoulder back to the safety of the driftwood.
Sean quickly moved to the other side of the boat where the life preserver was kept, grabbed it and some life vests, ran back and tossed them in the man’s direction.
"Catch that," he shouted, watching as his aim landed just out of reach. His heart pounded against his chest. "Let go of the wood and grab it! Hurry!" Please, please don't let it float away. He could not let these people drown. He would not.
The father lunged for the preserver, but as he did, he lost the grip on his wife, and Sean watched in terror as her head ducked under. The boy was screaming, the father was trying desperately to hold his wife’s face up out of the water by her hair.
Panic threatened, but he coolly kept his head. He was a swimmer, a strong one. If he didn't get them on board quickly, they'd all be dead.
He perched on the edge of the boat, then dived in, swimming toward the driftwood. He searched for the woman in the dark, swirling water. Seconds passed. He came up once, looked around then dived under again. Feeling something solid, human, he held on. Kicking furiously now, he pulled the woman toward him, grabbed hold of her waist until their heads popped out of the water.
She was sputtering and sobbing, and fighting him with what little strength she had. He kept a hand around her, but with her swollen belly she was not easy to grip.
After a terrified second or two, she gave up the struggle and allowed him to turn her over. By floating her on her back, he was able to recover the preserver and slip it over her head.
The boy and the father swam toward him, pushing their driftwood ahead like a paddleboard, but he feared they might pull them both under. He yelled at them to head for the boat, pointing to the ladder on the side.
Once they reached the side of his boat, he joined them. With the mother bobbing safely beside him, he helped the boy shimmy up, and then the father. When the two of them were safely on board Sean removed the preserver from the wife, and they helped pull her up, as he pushed from below.
With a final heave, the poor woman was dragged over the side of the boat, and Sean quickly followed.
The woman looked to be in bad shape. "Downstairs." He pointed the hatch out to the son. "Blankets and towels."
His father translated, and the boy nodded, his big eyes wide with fright. He quickly turned and left.
The man sat down on the deck, cradling his wife's head. "My fault. I should never have made you come. It wasn't safe."
Sean knelt in a puddle of water at the woman’s side. He put his hands over her extended stomach as she moaned in pain. After the ordeal she'd been through, he wouldn't be surprised if she was in labor.
The boy returned and dumped several blankets and towels at his feet. He folded one under the woman's head, and another over her body to keep her warm. He handed a blanket to both the father and the son. "Put these on. Keep warm. We'll get you to a hospital. Don't worry."
He made the woman as comfortable as possible. The boy shivered so hard his teeth chattered behind blue lips, while the father smoothed damp hair back from his wife’s forehead. Her
breaths were shallow, but she was breathing. He’d saved them, yes, but to what fate?
Although he reassured the family, deep down he knew his words were empty promises. They all had plenty to worry about.
CHAPTER SIX
At five a.m. Kayla slipped out of bed, donned her jogging shorts, sports bra and sneakers and quietly left the cottage, where everyone else was still fast asleep. A sliver of moon illuminated her path.
She loved the quiet early mornings, and running the beach was certainly more pleasurable than pounding the Philadelphia pavement. When she reached the thick mangroves which separated her cottages from the beach, she stopped and did her stretches, looking around to see if she were alone.
It was against the law to trim mangroves, as they were protected, but someone had done it before her and she merely maintained the pathway. There would be no other access to the beach if she didn’t, and what would her guests think about that? The trail was only a little more than a foot wide and she picked her way through, weeding a little as she went. If someone spotted her and reported it she could face a heavy fine, but this time in the morning was relatively safe. The sun hadn’t yet made an appearance.
Reaching the sand she took up a slow jog, heading past the marina on her left, and picking up speed about ten minutes in. This was the part she enjoyed most—pushing past the pain, finding her rhythm, her breathing coming easier. She ran a couple of miles to the end of the beach where a small causeway linked Paradise Cove to Islamorada. She stood for a moment breathing deeply, then turned around and ran back home.
As she neared the marina she saw the helm of a glistening white sailboat slipping into its berth. Her heart skipped a beat, and she wondered if Sean had just returned. She slowed her gait, and watched in the pre-dawn darkness.
When she got close enough she was able to discern the name on the back of the boat. Sara. A woman's name—not unusual, but it piqued her curiosity. Who was Sara? He must have loved her very much. His wife, perhaps? But if he was divorced, wouldn't he have the name painted over? Ah, but if she’d died tragically that would explain his grief and his love for the boat.
PARADISE COVE (PARADISE SERIES Book 1) Page 4