by Annie Seaton
God, he even has me playing cloak and dagger now.
She had no idea what all the secrecy was about and it filled her with unease. Why the hell couldn’t she just get off the boat and walk through the marina? Could she trust him or was she making a huge mistake? Not that she’d had any say in the matter.
But if he was willing to help her find Regan, she would play along. She closed her eyes, remembering some of the scenes she’d witnessed the night before.
If that was what being rich in a millionaire’s playground entailed, she was quite happy in front of a classroom filled with little ones, thank you very much.
She had seen things last night like she’d never imagined. For a while she’d been fascinated and curious until the whole aft deck had turned into an orgy and she’d pushed the binoculars away in disbelief. God, she couldn’t believe that Regan had been there and a part of it. But the last e-mail had said she was moving into the crew quarters on the cruiser to travel down from Cairns so she would have been there at night…if she had stayed on board. Gracie’s stomach was roiled from worry, not knowing where her sister was.
Jake maneuvered the boat through the channel from the marina and they turned into Pioneer Bay. The warm breeze through the open hatch caressed her face. A fine mist of salt spray blew in with the light wind, and she turned her face up to the cool spray. Even though it was just past dawn, the tropical heat was building. The water was as still as glass and sunlight glinted off the wash of the boats ahead of them as the sun cleared the horizon. The small boat rocked gently as a light wind caught the sails which Jake had unfurled as they’d cleared the bay. She sighed with pleasure. It was a shame they were motoring. Regan had taught her to sail in this bay during their childhood holidays at Airlie Beach before it had become a trendy playground for the rich. Their grandmother had had an old cottage on the hill behind the main part of the town and they’d gone sailing down in the bay. But Gran had died just before Mum, and nothing had ever been the same again. The cottage was long gone and rows of million-dollar villas covered the hill now. Gracie closed her eyes as the worry about Regan surfaced. No matter what she’d done, she was all Gracie had left and Gracie’s stomach churned at the thought that something may have happened to her. As if reading her mind, her phone beeped as they came back into service at the edge of the bay and she grabbed her bag and pulled it out.
“Regan, please be Regan,” she muttered as she scrolled through to the message which simply told her how many minutes she had left on her phone. She flicked across to her e-mail, but the service dropped out before it opened. Disappointed, she slid the phone back into her small purse.
Less than half an hour later, the motor died and Jake’s shadow darkened the cabin as he moved to the front of the old boat to lower the anchor.
“You can come up now,” he called down to her. Gracie stepped through the door to the small deck, which was now bathed in bright sunshine. Chains rattled on the side of the boat before the sound was followed by a loud splash when the anchor hit the water. Jake fed the anchor rope through his hands until the rope went taut and the boat spun slowly around to face the beach. Muscles rippled in his tanned back; he’d shed his T-shirt and wore only a pair of cutoff denim shorts, frayed around the edges. He was tall and solidly built. She’d have had no chance against him if he’d decided to take what she’d offered and had played rough last night. She couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the big come-on without thinking things through. What she’d done was so out of character, it made her realize how worried she was about Regan.
God, there was no way she could have stopped him if things had really heated up and she hadn’t pulled back. Looking away from him, Gracie took a deep breath and tried to swallow down her fear. Her gaze settled on the sapphire-blue waters between the boat and the shore which was edged with dark green vegetation. A couple of small yachts were silhouetted by the early morning sun, apart from that there was no other life to be seen.
They were alone in the middle of nowhere.
“How are we going to get to shore?” she asked, worried he was going to expect her to swim in. Jake turned and pointed to a small aluminum dinghy swinging from some ropes at the back of the boat. She hadn’t noticed it in the dark last night.
“Don’t worry. This will get us both there safely.” He turned to untie the ropes holding the dinghy aloft and threw her a glance, laughing over his shoulder as he reached for the high rope. “I don’t think your dress is suitable for swimming.”
Gracie stood back and watched as the dinghy hit the water with a loud splash. His tanned skin was slick with perspiration as he pulled on the rope, even though it was only early in the day. Regan’s voice popped into her head.
Built like a brick shithouse.
Gracie shivered as a cold finger of fear resurfaced and trailed down her spine. She really wouldn’t have a chance if he tried to take up where they had left off. Putting her hands over her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath.
What the hell am I doing here?
On a boat moored miles from anywhere.
In an isolated bay with a stranger.
Not another boat in sight and with a guy she didn’t know if she could trust. Her stomach churned, her hands began to tingle, and she took another breath, trying to fight the sickness building in her stomach.
When the dinghy was safely in the water and tied alongside the hull, Jake disappeared into the cabin and come back out a few moments later carrying a large rucksack, which she assumed held his photographic equipment. Moving across to the side of the boat, he stepped into the small dinghy before stowing the rucksack securely under the front. He beckoned for her to follow and held his hand out, offering to help her into the boat because she had her purse and shoes clutched firmly in her hands.
Gracie stepped down into the smaller boat and lost her balance on the V-shaped base. She stumbled and lurched toward him, coming to a sudden stop against his rock-hard chest.
“Whoa, there,” he said grabbing her around the waist. She looked up at him and his gaze pinned her for a few seconds. He looked back down at her without expression before dropping his hands and pointing to the back of the small dinghy.
“Sit up the back.” His voice was terse.
She clambered over the coiled ropes and buckets jammed on the floor of the small boat before sitting down on the hard wooden seat at the back. Dampness seeped through her dress, and she shifted across to avoid the wet bench as a couple of inches of water swirled around her bare feet. The boat rocked when she moved but Jake didn’t look at her as he picked up the paddles and rowed the short distance into the shore. He pulled the dinghy up onto the muddy shoreline and silently held his hand out to Gracie. She took it and stepped out of the boat, gasping as her feet sank into sticky, black sediment.
“It’s okay, there’s a tap in the garden. My house is just through there beyond the mangroves.” He still avoided her gaze and her neck prickled.
It might not have been far to the house but Gracie picked her way carefully through the stubby mangrove roots and oyster-encrusted rocks exposed by the low tide. Crabs skittered away from her feet and small fish darted through the crystal-clear shallows. By the time they reached the edge of the mangroves her feet were totally covered in black mud. Jake led her along a path through some low trees and she kept her eyes wide open in case there were snakes. Every lesson she had ever given on the dangers of tropical climates was fixed firmly in her mind.
A few moments later they stood beside a locked gate. Gracie looked up and fear clutched at her chest.
Chapter Four
What am I doing standing beside a complete stranger who thinks he can tell me what to do? He’s like David all over again.
Gracie dropped her head to avoid Jake’s gaze and tried to scrub off the mud that covered the backs of her thighs and edge of her dress. He reached into the rucksack and pulled out a small cloth and tossed it to her. He still hadn’t spoken and when she finally looked up at him, he av
oided her eyes. A cloud passed over the sun and his face was in the shadow. A frisson of unease ran down her spine and adrenaline pumped through her veins as the flight instinct kicked in.
Gracie swallowed and looked around desperately. A high brick fence camouflaged by thick native cottonwood trees was in front of them. Heart-shaped leaves formed a dense canopy over a scrolled metal gate and yellow hibiscus flowers wound through the gaps of the intricate pattern. Jake stood to her right and beyond him was the mangrove swamp with the expanse of blue water to the horizon. She swiveled her gaze in the other direction to a dirt road that wound into the distance through coastal she-oaks. There was nowhere to go, and she had no option but to follow him.
The jangling of keys caught her attention and she turned back to face him. He unlocked the padlock on the gate and pushed it open, standing back to allow her to enter before him. Gracie hesitated and threw one last desperate look back to the mangrove swamp.
“There’s no other way back.” He glanced at her curiously.
Fear was overtaking her whole body and her chest rose and fell as she gulped for air.
“Calm down.” Jake’s hand seemed to come toward her in slow motion but she couldn’t catch her breath, her ears began to ring, and a cold, prickly feeling ran up into her throat. Her legs buckled beneath her.
A moment later, she opened her eyes and looked up into the deep blue sky. He was carrying her like a baby and moving slowly with a stiff-legged gait. He carried her as though she weighed nothing and the rucksack with his gear was slung over his shoulder. She flicked her gaze up to his face but he was staring straight ahead, with his jaw clenched. A pulse was jumping in his cheek and she noticed a faint scar near the corner of his eye.
“Put me down,” she whispered. “Don’t hurt me. Please.”
“In a minute.”
“Now.” Her voice was louder.
“No.”
She kicked her legs out and twisted her shoulders pushing away from him, but he held her firmly and kept walking. His fingers were pressing into her upper arm.
“For Christ’s sake, keep still. We’re almost there.” Perspiration dotted his brow and top lip, and his face was grim. “I don’t want to hurt my…I don’t want to drop my cameras, so keep still.”
Gracie reached up with one hand and used his shoulder as leverage to lift her head and look around. They were on a paved pathway and a sprawling white timber house lay ahead of them. A wide deck overlooked a lush green lawn edged by a variety of colorful hibiscus shrubs and orchids. At the bottom of the garden, a huge oval swimming pool with a waterfall sparkled invitingly in the sunlight.
Jake stopped at the end of the path at three wide steps that led up to the deck.
“Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed.
“Why?”
“Are you always this hard to get along with?” he asked impatiently. “If you put your arms around my neck, I don’t have to bend to put you down and then the rucksack won’t slide off my shoulder.”
Gracie looked up. Perspiration was running down the side of his face which seemed to have lost a bit of color. She lowered her eyes and her gaze followed the curve of his neck down to his shoulder and to his arms, which were still holding her firmly. The veins in his biceps were standing out and his muscles were flexed against the combined weight of her and the heavy rucksack.
She obeyed without saying another word. When her hands were clasped behind his neck, Jake raised his shoulder and hitched the rucksack more firmly across his back before removing the arm from beneath her knees and turning her body into his. Her dress hitched up over her legs and butt as she slid down the front of his body. Heat suffused her face as she pressed against an erection as hard as a rock. Too embarrassed to look at him, she stepped back on shaking legs and sat down hurriedly on the bottom step.
But directly in her line of sight, an impressive bulge strained his shorts and she closed her eyes.
“Are you all right now?” he asked. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a woman swoon at my feet.”
He was making light of her embarrassment, and she lifted her head at the laughter in his voice. It was the first time he’d shown even a glimmer of a sense of humor since she had climbed onto his boat last night. The color had come back into his face and his lips were tilted up in a smile that displayed a row of perfect white teeth, made even whiter by the deep tan of his skin. Deep laugh lines were etched around his eyes, which she could now see were almost the same blue as the sapphire ocean in the distance.
Why is it that guys always get the long, thick eyelashes, she thought irrationally as he leaned forward and placed the rucksack on the step next to her.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It must have been the heat.”
“Be truthful,” he said. “You had a panic attack. I could see how bloody terrified you were.”
He sat down next to her on the step and she moved away as the warmth of his bare leg brushed against hers. “Don’t be scared. I’ve told you the truth. You have nothing to fear from me. Okay?”
“I don’t have panic attacks,” she said primly, pushing herself up to her feet. “I am not a coward.”
“Didn’t say you were, sweetheart.” Jake stood and walked past her up the three steps to fit a key into the locked door. “Come on inside. We’ll get sorted, and I’ll drive you back into Airlie Beach.”
Gracie followed him into the house and suppressed a gasp of delight. Living in teacher housing at Ashby Downs provided her with functional accommodation. Before moving to the outback she’d lived in share apartments when she’d been at university. Even before Mum had died they’d lived in modest rentals in the outer suburbs of Brisbane.
This place was magnificent. A broad expanse of gleaming bronze tiles covered the floor across to a wall made entirely of glass. The house was set high enough to see above the brick fence to the vista of the Whitsunday Passage. On the distant horizon, islands rose majestically, their silhouettes hovering above the horizon like jewels in the morning sunlight. The sea was a deep aquamarine and Gracie couldn’t help herself. She walked slowly over to the huge window, placed her hands on the glass, and gazed across the water. A small island closer to the shore was fringed with brilliant white sand and yachts bobbed in the curve of the bay, the small white specks contrasting with the deep blue water.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful it was,” she murmured more to herself, but Jake’s voice came from close behind her, just before the heat of his body warmed her. He stood close to her and leaned against the window frame.
“You’ve been to the islands before?”
“Our grandmother had a house in Airlie Beach. Regan and I learned to sail in Pioneer Bay,” she replied. “It’s been years since I was here, and I really didn’t look at the view yesterday. I was too focused on getting onto the boat.” Gracie looked up at him, pulling her thoughts back to the present. “So, what now?”
Jake held her gaze before turning and gesturing to the house behind him.
“Have a wander through the house while I have a shower and get dressed.” He turned and headed for the door. “Reassure yourself. We’ll figure out a plan of action when we get to town.”
“What do you mean a ‘plan of action’?”
Jake paused in the doorway and stared at her. “Do you think I’m just going to drop you back into town and let you loose with another crazy plan? No way, sweetheart. I’m going to help you keep out of trouble.”
He disappeared down the hall and a moment later Gracie heard a shower running.
A cold one, she hoped.
Heading off in the opposite direction—the last thing she wanted was to stumble into the bathroom he was showering in—she padded softly in her bare feet down a tiled hall which opened into a huge kitchen and informal dining area. The kitchen was clinically bare, filled with stainless-steel appliances and a huge expanse of cream granite countertops. It looked down over a formal dining room with a huge stone table, which faced anothe
r glass wall overlooking the bay from a different angle. She wandered through the house looking into the rooms where the doors were open and ignoring the rooms with closed doors. The house was huge and she only explored the ground level. A staircase led to a mezzanine level from each end of the corridor. The view from up there would be amazing.
If the house belonged to him, Jake was seriously rich. The beachfront location alone would be worth millions of dollars in today’s market, not even taking the huge house into consideration.
Maybe he rented it? Because he didn’t come across as rich—his boat was a junk heap. Anyone who owned a house like this certainly wouldn’t have an old tub like the Pretty Lady moored down off the mangroves. And why would he be taking photos of the Midas if he owned this house?
And why the secrecy?
She couldn’t get her head around it. She didn’t trust him one bit. The sooner she got back to the hotel the better.
The last room she entered was a guest suite, completely fitted out in white. Soft flokati rugs were scattered across the tiled floor and a huge bed was decked out with mosquito netting draped softly across a hoop above the bed. A huge bathroom with a deep oval spa bath was filled with a variety of jars of bath salts and oils, and Gracie looked down at her mud-encrusted legs and feet. The mud spots had dried to a dark gray and for a moment she was tempted to jump into the huge shower and scrub her legs—it looked big enough to host a party.
“Want a shower?” A fresh soapy aroma surrounded her and she looked over her shoulder at Jake who stood behind her, dressed and toweling his short hair.
“No, thank you, I’ll wait till I get back to the hotel. Then I’d like to set up a time to look at the photos?” She hurried on so he didn’t get the wrong idea. “Not the ones of the… er… the, you know…the people. I just want to see if there are any photos of Regan.”
He beckoned her to follow him down the wide hallway.
“Come on, I’ll take you back to town. There are a few things I need there. Then you can come back here and we’ll spend the afternoon looking at the photos and I’ll run you back afterward.” When they reached the kitchen, he threw his wet towel over the back of a chair and picked up a set of keys, a wallet, and a baseball cap. “I’ll need to grab some sleep sometime before I go back to the marina tonight.”