Hunting Houston

by Sandy Steen

  “I wasn’t renovating.”

  “Oh.” She had the feeling he was right on the verge of talking to her, really talking to her. Wanting to point the conversation in the direction of her choosing but knowing it would be a mistake, Abby kept quiet, and hoped Houston would do the rest.

  “Abby?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not planning any more dive trips while you’re here, are you?”

  What a bizarre question. And a rude one, she thought nastily. “What makes you say that?”

  “Are you?” he persisted.

  “No,” she said, irritated by his strange interrogation.

  “Or whale watches?”

  Why was he pushing her to admit her fear? It was none of his business and she started to tell him so. Instead, she reminded herself that she couldn’t afford to alienate him. But that didn’t prevent the edge of anger in her voice.

  “No. I’m not planning any more dives, whale watches or snorkel trips. Hell, I may never even go swimming again unless I can see straight to a concrete bottom.”

  “Because of the shark?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. Case or no case, he didn’t have the right to grill her like this. “I don’t want to go back in the water. I…I can’t. Are you satisfied?” The answer was straight from her heart. Straight out of her fear. “I know you probably think it’s irrational.”

  “Abby-”

  “The chances of encountering another shark in my next fifty dives is probably astronomical.”

  “Abby-”

  “I can’t explain it. I—”

  He turned toward her and cupped her chin in his hand. “You don’t have to explain it. I understand.”

  “How could you—”

  “Because,” he said on a desperate whisper. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. For nine months I’ve lived with the same fear. And believe me, I would rather have faced your shark than face my own weakness.”

  He looked deep into her eyes. “I understand, Abby. Because I can’t go back into the water any more than you can.”

  Chapter 7

  This was the moment Abby had been waiting for, but she was too stunned to exploit it. She held her breath, knowing he was going to talk about the explosion; knowing he would probably share his feelings. This is what she had come to Maui for, wasn’t it?

  Then why wasn’t she overjoyed?

  “There was an accident,” he said, as if on cue. “Gil—you met him at the shop—was in Hilo, on the big island. We had been busting our butts to set up a deal with this travel agency on the mainland. Major bucks all the way around. Gil closed the negotiations. I was to sail over and ink the deal, then we were going to celebrate.”

  He laughed—a humorless, desperate sound. In fact, it raised goose bumps on her skin. “Nobody can paint the town red like Gil.” His hand stroked her cheek several times, then he reached to hold her hand. “It would have been a night to remember.”

  “W-would have been?”

  “I never…never made it…” He took a deep breath. “We never made it to Hilo.”

  She waited, knowing he would continue, and strangely enough, wishing he wouldn’t. She hadn’t expected the raw pain she heard in his voice. She hadn’t expected to want to soothe that pain. Would a guilty man be so emotional? Would a guilty man even admit to his fear?

  “It was almost sunset,” he continued. “The wind had kicked up. Guess it blew us slightly off course. Nothing serious. I think I was correcting, when Shelley…”

  At the mention of Shelley’s name, his hand held hers more tightly.

  “At the last minute Gil’s wife, Shelley, decided to come along. She, uh, always went below to make coffee right about sundown. That’s where they think she was when…”

  He paused for several seconds, then cleared his throat. “There was an explosion. Probably in the galley. A fire. The boat sank. I—I made it to the raft, but Shelley… Shelley didn’t. Coast Guard picked me up three days later.” He sucked in a breath, and let it out in a slow trickle. “That’s all I remember.”

  His hurry-up-and-get-it-out, bare-bones version of what had happened told Abby more than the reams of reports and depositions she had already read concerning the explosion.

  “Except the stars,” he said, more to himself than her. “I remember the stars. Every night. Always there.”

  “Houston?”

  “Twinkling. Just twinkling.”

  “Houston,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”

  He hurt. The pain was in his voice, in the tension on his face, even in the desperate way he clung to her hand. And there was nothing fake or pretend about it. It was all too real. She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right. An absurd notion, given the circumstances, and she knew it.

  “They told me I bobbed around in the Pacific for three days with a raging fever. But I don’t remember much of that, either.”

  Abby had read all of the accounts of the explosion, including the reports from the Coast Guard. She had the information in her head. But for the first time it touched her heart. She reached up and stroked his cheek.

  She should have been pressing him for details, but all she could think about was how much he must have grieved over the past nine months. She should have felt a certain satisfaction at having finally cracked the door to his emotions. Instead, she empathized.

  “Losing someone…hurts,” she said softly. “When my father died I didn’t think the pain would ever go away. And I don’t believe it ever completely disappears, but time does take away some of the sting. Some of the tears.”

  “I hope so. God, I hope so.”

  “It will. And you have people who care to help you through this. Gil and—”

  Abruptly, he swung his feet over the edge of the hammock and sat up, his back to her. “I didn’t mean to get into all this,” he said into the darkness. “I only wanted you to know that I understood, understand, how you feel.”

  He was shutting down. Trying to regain control. Coping with the pain the only way he knew how. But the fact that he changed the word understood to the present tense, told her he wasn’t coping very well.

  The only reason Abby recognized the behavior so quickly was because she was intimately acquainted with it herself. Don’t share too much of yourself. Don’t risk.

  “I can see that, and I appreciate it.” She reached out to him. “Houston—”

  “You’re probably curious about the details. It’s natural, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I don’t remember the details.”

  “You mean you don’t want to think about them. It’s understandable, considering all you’ve been through.”

  “No, Abby.” He twisted his body back around, facing her. “I don’t remember. Except for the time leading up to the accident. I remember the sunset and being off course, and then…”

  The things he remembered most clearly, he would like to forget. God, how he wished he could forget. But how does a man forget he’s a coward?

  “Most of what I just told you was told to me by the Coast Guard and the insurance investigator. I only remember bits and pieces. The fire. And the stars. But the pieces don’t always fit together.”

  “Traumatic memory loss,” Abby whispered. So this was the source of the negative vibes she had picked up from him. This was the something she felt he had been hiding.

  “How did you know what it was called?”

  She shrugged. “Probably read it somewhere. I don’t think this kind of thing is uncommon in situations like yours.”

  “That’s almost exactly what the doctor said that treated me on the Coast Guard cutter.”

  “I’m sure in time, your complete memory will be restored.”

  “He said that, too.”

  “Shall I send you a bill for a second opinion?”

  They looked at each other, and both smiled.

  “Look.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Believ
e it or not—” he stood, and assisted her exit from the hammock “—this wasn’t what I had in mind when I invited you to dinner.”

  They walked across the yard, and without questioning whether she should be or not, Abby was relieved to move away from the pain she had seen in his eyes.

  He opened the back door, and they went inside. “And what did you have in mind?”

  “Dinner, and some heavy petting,” he answered honestly.

  When they reached the living room, she turned and said, “You do that just to throw me off guard, don’t you?”

  “Do what?”

  “Give me such a direct answer.”

  “Was I supposed to give you an indirect one?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “If you mean, giving you an honest answer, the answer is no.”

  Abby frowned. “Now you’re trying to confuse me. No, what?”

  “No, I don’t do it to throw you off. I do it to warn you off.” He slid his hand behind her neck, and with very slight pressure, urged her closer. “To protect Little Red from the wolf.”

  At his touch, her stomach did a couple of cartwheels, disturbing a covey of butterflies. “Do I need to be warned?”

  “Oh, yes, Miss Abigail. You most certainly do.”

  “And…and just why do I need to be warned off?”

  “That’s the way it’s always worked in the past. You see—and I’m fully aware that I’m about to sound like a total jerk—being up-front and honest is my technique.”

  “Technique?”

  “Here comes the jerk part. It’s been a way for me to keep my past relationships well-defined. And, well, temporary. As long as I was totally honest about what I wanted, the lady couldn’t come back later and say—”

  “That you whispered sweet promises in her ear. Promises you never intended to keep.”

  “Exactly. Every woman I’ve been with knew where she stood. Where we were going.”

  “And where was that?”

  “To have fun, mostly. To bed eventually. But they always knew. I never professed undying love when all I wanted was a good time.”

  “Well, at least you aren’t a cad.”

  “You missed the most important word in those last couple of sentences.”

  She tried to hide a smile. “Jerk?”

  Houston grinned back, never taking his eyes from hers. His hand cupped her chin. “Past.”

  Those butterflies in the pit of her stomach were at it again. How was she supposed to respond to him? How did she want to respond to him? Abby tried to derail that particular train of thought, but with little success. Houston was too close, too warm and too…everything.

  “You have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth.”

  “It’s not really important whether I believe—”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He could feel her heartbeat beneath his hand, and fought the urge to put his mouth against that soft, pulsing spot. And many, many other places on her body. “It’s very important.”

  Abby knew she shouldn’t ask…mustn’t ask…But she asked. “Why?”

  “Because I want you.”

  “That’s not exactly news.”

  “Yeah, but it’s how I want you.”

  “H-how-”

  “Hot and fast. Slow and easy. For hours and hours. Days. In the sunlight. Under the stars. And more than I’ve wanted anyone in a long time.”

  When her eyes widened, he reminded her, “You asked.”

  He didn’t add that he wanted her sweetness, her smile, her laughter. Everything she had to give. He didn’t say those things because, for the present, that admission was almost as unsettling for him to make, as it would be for her to hear.

  “You’re right. I did need to be warned.”

  “So, Little Red, now that you know where the Big Bad Wolf lives, do you take your basket of goodies and stay the hell away from Grandma’s house?”

  “I should.” Abby had never spoken truer words. She should—oh, yes—she should get as far away from Houston Sinclair as possible. It was the right thing to do. The sane thing to do. Some part of her brain even told her it was the professional thing to do.

  “Don’t.”

  One word. Not a question. Not a command. Not prefaced by the word please. Just, “don’t.”

  Slowly, giving her plenty of time to turn away, he leaned closer, dipping his head.

  He was going to kiss her unless she stopped him. And she should stop him. Before this got out of hand. All she had to do was tell him to stop. Or even just simply turn her head. There were at least fifty ways to avoid the kiss, and all she needed was one. One simple, little…

  Her mouth opened to his, so hungry, so hot.

  He took possession of her lips the way he wanted to take possession of her body. Deeply. Completely. Need jumped and sparked inside him like live wires as he feasted on her mouth. He wanted more, needed more. And he had never felt so alive, so hungry. The hunger gnawed at him, and he pulled her tighter into his embrace, molded her body to his.

  Everything in her strained into the kiss, into the heat of it, the power of it. She had never known the kind of searing desire his kiss incited. Her knees were actually trembling. And she wanted more. More, more and more.

  Instincts honed by pain demanded she stayed in control. Stayed distant. But need had its own demands. She stopped listening-to her instincts. All she heard was her heart as it hammered a primal beat from her body to his.

  Her moan of protest when his mouth left hers slid into a sigh as his lips tasted her cheek, her throat. He whispered her name on a ragged sigh right before he nipped at her earlobe.

  Her insides felt like liquid fire, her body trembled. She clung to him—his arms for support, his lips for sustenance. At that moment, the center of the universe was their lips, their need.

  They were spinning out of control. Both of them seemed to realize it at the same time, and tempered the kiss. Reluctantly.

  “Abby.” He kissed her temple.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to calm her breathing. “I was warned.”

  “Only one problem.”

  “What?”

  “Nobody warned me.”

  “Why?” Her breath came out in a long, shuddering sigh. “I’m harmless.”

  He laughed. He had to in order to release some of the tension, to rein in his racing libido. “That’s got to be the all-time greatest understatement, my lovely—” he kissed her lips, stopping just short of devouring her again “—luscious Abby. At this moment, you’re the most dangerous woman on this island.” In more ways than one, he thought.

  “Dangerous? I’ve never been called dangerous before. At least not that way.”

  “Haven’t you?” With both hands he caged her face briefly, careful not to dislodge the hibiscus bloom, then slipped them behind her neck, into the mass of curls.

  She closed her eyes. “I think I like the idea.”

  “Do you?” His fingers massaged her scalp.

  Her head fell back into his hands in a gesture of surrender that sent desire ripping through his body.

  “It’s probably every woman’s fantasy. To be dangerous, seductive. Maybe not as a steady diet, but at least once. Or once in a while.”

  “The idea being to keep the males in her life on their toes.”

  “Something like that, but…”

  “But what?”

  She opened her eyes and looked straight into his. “More to prove to herself that she has what it takes to be dangerous, even if she doesn’t use it. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah,” he said, only at the moment he couldn’t have told her for sure what the question was because his gaze went to her mouth, all soft and waiting to be kissed. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to do a lot more than kiss.

  Before she had walked into the dive shop, he had considered instant attraction to be synonymous with instant lust. Now he knew different. Not that he wasn’t experiencing a healthy dos
e of lust right now, but Abby was… different. Special. And she had been, since the moment he laid eyes on her.

  “And—” he sighed “—if I don’t take you home right now, you’re going to get more than an idea.”

  “I…I think you’re right.”

  He didn’t want to, but he took a step back, let her go. “Good thing the top is down. I need all the cool air I can get.”

  They both got a lot of air as the T-Bird sped down Highway 30, but as for cool…

  How cool could he be when he couldn’t stop thinking about the way her skin tasted, all sweet, and smelling like jasmine? He wanted another taste. More. He wanted to know if the skin on her belly was as soft as that little spot behind her ear. Face it, he thought, she had him tied in knots no sailor ever knew. And some of those knots had nothing to do with sex.

  They had to do with the way she had stroked his cheek when she’d told him how sorry she was. They had to do with the gentle way she had tried to console him by sharing about her father.

  They had to do with feeling connected to her in a way he had never experienced before!

  This was new ground for him. Shaky ground. But at the same time, exciting. Being with Abby had reawakened his adventurer’s spirit, almost as if he had been sleepwalking through the past nine months. Now an eagerness flowed through him, as sweet and heady as her perfume.

  The air moving over her skin wasn’t cool, it was a reminder. A reminder of what was happening to her. Again.

  She had removed the hibiscus flower for fear it would blow away as they drove. Now she gazed at it in her hand, wondering how she could have allowed herself to fall into the same trap. Her past experience should have strengthened her emotional protective devices, not weakened them. Every time Houston touched her, she thought less and less about holding on to her objectivity and more and more about holding on to him.

  This was insane. She had to pull herself together. Block all these feelings that threatened to swamp her every time she was with him.

  “How would you like to take a sight-seeing trip around the island tomorrow? There’s some terrific scenery.”

  “I’d love it.” How dangerous can that be, she thought? “I planned on doing a little shopping after breakfast, but I’ll certainly be done by ten.”