by Susan Cliff
Chapter 21
It took them twelve hours to reach Nuku Hiva.
The trip was arduous, but uneventful. Logan kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the dark sea, which seemed to go on forever. They’d truly been out in the middle of nowhere. According to the ship’s navigation system, they’d been stranded on an island called Eiao. From Eiao, you could travel thousands of miles in almost every direction without hitting land. Or you could head southeast to Nuku Hiva.
“Would we have made it in the raft?” she asked.
“No.”
“Not a chance?”
“The odds aren’t good. The current would’ve taken us the wrong way.”
She stayed by his side, leaning her head against his shoulder. She’d found an old blanket to keep them warm. He’d told her to go belowdecks to lie down, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t sleep on this ship, in the same space the pirates had inhabited. In the same space she’d been terrorized. She didn’t feel safe.
She worried about underwater obstacles, lost shipping containers and rogue waves. She worried about a second pirate ship, although he assured her there wasn’t one. She worried about the GPS and the sonar and the fuel gauge, all of which he claimed were in working order. She wouldn’t relax until they were on dry land.
Maybe not even then.
The night stretched on, endless as the ocean. They didn’t talk about what had happened, or celebrate their escape. It didn’t seem real. She felt like she was dreaming. She might wake up any moment, still stranded.
At dawn, they finally reached Nuku Hiva, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. She wondered if fatigue was a symptom of trauma. She remembered shutting down after the kidnapping. Shutting him out.
Less than two months later, she wasn’t as affected by death or danger. She hadn’t become inured to it, but she wasn’t frozen in fear. The second attack hadn’t rattled her as much. She’d been hardened by the harsh conditions on the island and the daily struggle for survival. She was a warrior now, battle scarred.
He docked the ship in a port among a handful of other vessels. There were shiny yachts next to beat-up fishing boats. A local policeman was patrolling the dock. He didn’t speak English, so Cady asked him in French where they could go for help. He escorted them a short distance to the Gendarmerie Nationale.
From there, Logan called the Naval Air Station in Coronado and asked to speak to his commander. The man didn’t seem to believe it was him. Logan had to recite a security code. Then he laughed into the receiver, and everything was okay. His boss wired them money and faxed a copy of Logan’s credentials.
Cady wanted to call her mother, but Logan said they had to wait for an okay. They also had to stay put for a few days. His boss was sending someone to assist them, but Nuku Hiva was a remote location, thousands of miles from the nearest US Embassy.
Cady didn’t mind waiting. She was too exhausted to travel, anyway.
There was a hotel across the street from the gendarmerie, and a pharmacy, and a little tourist shop with casual clothing. Cady was wearing Logan’s shirt with her bikini bottoms. Logan was wearing his pants, and nothing else. They were both barefoot. He’d left his weapons on the boat, but he still looked like a savage.
They bought a few necessities at the pharmacy first. She lingered in the makeup section, delighted by the sparse selection. His eyes lit up at the sight of a disposable razor. These were precious commodities now, to be cherished. After paying for the items, they went next door to pick out new clothes. Dockers for him, with loafers and a basic T-shirt. She found a pair of sandals and a cute flower-print dress in pink and white.
He booked two rooms. She didn’t know why, because he stayed with her and ordered room service. They ate a huge breakfast of eggs, bacon and pancakes. He cleaned his plate and finished hers. She thought her stomach might burst.
Her heart, too.
They curled up on the too-soft bed, marveling at the modern amenities. Running water. Air-conditioning. Carpet.
They didn’t even shower. They just slept.
* * *
When Cady woke again, it was early evening and Logan was gone.
The note on the pillow read “dinner downstairs, 7:00 p.m.”
It was 6:15.
She rolled over and stretched her arms, groaning. Sleeping in a real bed was disorienting. It was too comfortable. She felt like she’d been drugged in luxury. Getting up, she went to the bathroom and turned on the light.
She winced at her reflection. Mirrors were another luxury she could do without. Her hair was a frazzled mess. Her eyes were puffy, her cheekbones prominent. She filled the bathtub with water and stripped down, studying her naked body.
She’d lost weight, no doubt about it. She covered her teacup-sized breasts with her hands and turned around. She hadn’t been this slim since her competitive dancing days. She still had some curves. She looked pretty healthy, considering. Dropping a few pounds wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. It was a miracle they were alive.
When she settled into the hot bath, she felt instantly transported. Submerging herself in warmth was glorious. She closed her eyes and lingered in the tub, smiling. Then she washed her hair and shaved her legs languidly. After she got out, she slathered her skin with moisturizer, pinned up her damp curls and tried on her new dress. It looked nice. The bright pink color set off her dark skin tone. She didn’t have any underwear, but the dress was knee-length and demure. No one would know.
She applied makeup, because the natural look only went so far. Then she walked downstairs to meet Logan. He was sitting at the restaurant bar. The beer bottle in his hand was the same brand he’d been drinking the night they met.
He rose to his feet and did a double take. “Wow.”
She smiled at the compliment, doing her own double take. He’d shaved, which served to highlight his best features. He had an angular jaw, a strong chin and a very sensual mouth. The soft cotton T-shirt clung to his hard torso and broad shoulders. He smelled as good as he looked. “Wow, yourself.”
“We clean up nice, don’t we?”
“We do,” she said, studying his face. He was leaner than he had been on the cruise, and more darkly tanned. There was another difference, in his eyes. His gaze carried more weight than it had before. He was still a heartbreaker, unfairly handsome, but he didn’t seem as restless. He looked rock-steady, like a man who knew what he wanted.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving,” she said, though it wasn’t quite true. She couldn’t use the exaggeration without remembering how hunger pangs felt.
They were led to a quiet table with an ocean view. She sat down across from him. The lighting was low and romantic, adding to the ambience. A waiter appeared with menus. She asked for a glass of white wine. Logan lifted his empty beer bottle. After the waiter left, Logan glanced at his menu.
“I’m not ordering fish,” he said in a low voice.
“Are you sure?” she teased. “They have a nice poisson cru.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like ceviche.”
“No way,” he said, closing his menu. “I want a steak.”
She laughed in agreement. When the waiter returned, she ordered for both of them. Someday she’d try poisson cru. Right now, she couldn’t stomach it. As much as she loved seafood, she might not eat it again for weeks.
He stared at her from across the table, his expression inscrutable. She could sense his tension, and it wasn’t just sexual. There was unfinished business between them. Unanswered questions about their relationship.
On the island, she’d been afraid to make plans for the future. Now they were here. The future had arrived, earlier than expected. They were safe, but were they officially together? He
’d said he couldn’t touch her because of professional ethics. Was she supposed to pretend nothing happened?
“I’m going back to Eiao,” he said.
She tilted her head to one side. “What?”
“Tomorrow, or the next day. I’m going back with my team.”
“Why?”
“We have to apprehend the last guy, and recover the bodies.”
“Why do you have to go with them?”
“I know the layout of the island. I know all the hiding places. I want to go, and there’s no reason for me to stay behind.”
“Oh.”
He picked up his beer bottle, and set it down again. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You didn’t mean that I’m not a good reason to stay?”
“It’s a short assignment. Six men against one. There’s nothing to worry about.”
She drank a sip from her wineglass. It was nice, but she needed something stronger. It hadn’t occurred to her that he wouldn’t take time off to recover. They’d been on that island for more than a month. They’d barely survived the second attack. She was still reeling from that narrow escape, and trying to sort out her feelings for him.
“We just got here,” she said.
“I know.”
“We haven’t even been safe twenty-four hours, and you can’t wait to go back?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you said there was no good reason to stay.”
He picked up his bottle again. This time, he drank.
“You killed two men yesterday.”
“I remember.”
“Why are you so eager to risk your life again?”
“I’m not. I don’t want to leave you.”
“But you’re jumping at the chance.”
He leaned forward and held her gaze. “I want to assist the investigation. I want to know why those men targeted Maya O’Brien, and who they’re connected to, and if there are any other attacks planned. This is my job.”
“Are you required to be there?”
“No. I volunteered.”
“Of course you did.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
She couldn’t ask him to choose her over his career. She wouldn’t even ask him to sit out this particular assignment. Although it wasn’t an unfair request, she knew he wouldn’t grant it. This was who he was. She could take it or leave it.
“I won’t be gone long,” he said. “Maybe a couple of days. When I get back, we can spend more time together. I’ll come to visit you.”
“Let’s not make plans.”
He flinched at her words. “Why not?”
She gestured to the space between them, indicating their relationship. “This might not even work in real life. We got attached to each other because of the circumstances, but we’re not stranded anymore. Feelings change.”
“My feelings won’t change,” he said.
The waiter arrived with two plates, interrupting the conversation. It was just a basic salad with vinaigrette, but her mouth watered at the sight of fresh vegetables. They both devoured every bite.
“Can we start over?” he asked. “I don’t want to argue. We should be enjoying ourselves. We’re in a room with four walls, sitting at a table with real utensils. We’re eating food that I didn’t have to catch with a spear, and you didn’t have to cook it on a campfire. My beer is cold. This is amazing.”
She finished her glass of wine. It was pretty amazing. She didn’t want to argue, either. She didn’t want to think about him leaving. “If we’re starting over, I’d rather go back to the night we met.”
He arched a brow. “You want to finish our date?”
“It wasn’t really a date.”
“Whatever it was, it got rudely interrupted.”
She smiled in agreement. “Yes, it did.”
“We can pretend it didn’t.”
Her stomach fluttered with awareness. A do-over would be perfect. They could pretend they were still on the cruise ship. “Okay.”
He took another swig of beer, giving her a measured look. “I want you to know something first.”
“What?”
“I meant what I said on the island. Every word.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and her throat closed up. She nodded an acknowledgment. He’d told her that he loved her. She loved him, too, even if she couldn’t say it yet. She wasn’t ready to take that risk. They’d only known each other a month, and they’d been isolated the entire time. She couldn’t give him her heart, but she could surrender her body. She could enjoy his. They could make the most of this night together.
“Do you want another glass of wine, or is one your limit?”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Just tipsy,” he said, his mouth quirking.
She let the waiter refill her glass, already halfway there. She was willing to take some risks tonight. When their meals arrived, she tried to eat slowly and savor every bite. She was acutely aware of his gaze, and of her nudity beneath the dress. He watched her like a wolf waiting for his prey to start running. She shifted her bare legs together, remembering the excitement of the chase. She remembered how he’d looked at her on the dance floor, as if he’d wanted to devour her on the spot. He still looked at her like that. If he knew she wasn’t wearing any panties, he’d probably leap across the table.
Her cheeks warmed at the thought.
The waiter appeared to take their plates away.
“En dessert?” the waiter said, describing the options.
“What do they have?” Logan asked her.
“Coconut cake and bananas flambé.”
He laughed at the choices, shaking his head. They could pretend she’d never been kidnapped, but they couldn’t pretend to want coconut or bananas.
“Chocolat, s’il vous plaît,” she said to the waiter.
The man gave a polite nod and disappeared again.
“Where did you learn French?” he asked.
“I spent a semester in Paris. Study abroad program.”
They spoke about the different places they’d visited, keeping the conversation light. Then they shared the chocolate mousse that came five minutes later. It was deliciously rich and decadent, with a froth of whipped cream on top. She moaned in delight. She’d missed chocolate, and spoons, and ice-cold refrigeration.
He fed her the last dollop. She licked the spoon and leaned back in her chair, satisfied. She was full, but not as full as she’d been after breakfast. She’d paced herself.
He paid the check and sat quietly while she sipped her white wine. The jukebox started playing some French reggae music. It reminded her of the Bob Marley song they’d danced to on the cruise ship. His eyes connected with hers, and they traveled back in time.
“Want to dance?” he asked, just like before.
“There’s no dance floor.”
He stood and offered her his hand. “We don’t need one.”
She walked outside with him. Her bare legs brushed together with every step. The restaurant’s back patio was deserted. Moonlight sparkled over the bay. He skipped the dancing-apart step and pulled her into his arms. She clung to his neck, already breathless. They swayed together as one, their bodies close together. Within moments, he was aroused.
So was she. She’d been aroused since she got here. The ocean breeze caressed her skin. She rubbed against him.
He paused, stilling her motions.
“It’s the dress, isn’t it?”
“It’s not the dress. It’s what’s underneath the dress.”
“Nothing,” she whispered in his ear.
His hands flexed at her hips, as if he wanted to draw the fabric up to expose her to the night air.
Then he went off script and crushed his mouth over hers. His kiss was deep and desperate, his tongue searching. She threaded her fingers through his short hair and kissed him back with an eager moan.
He broke the contact before they got too carried away. “We should take this somewhere private.”
“Okay.”
“My room or yours?”
“Let’s try mine.”
“Good idea.”
They rushed through the restaurant and headed upstairs, hand in hand. He kissed her on the landing, and again outside her room. It was just like old times. It was better. She laughed into his mouth as he fumbled with the key. Then they were inside the room.
He pressed her back against the door and devoured her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. His hands found her bare bottom beneath her dress. He froze, panting against her neck.
“I thought you were winding me up.”
“No.”
He tugged the bodice down and lowered his mouth to her breasts. She gasped at the sensation of his tongue on her tight nipples. It was so good, she couldn’t stand it. She threaded her fingers through his hair, dying of pleasure.
He went down on his knees and took it to the next level. Shoving her dress to her waist, he studied her exposed flesh. Then he looked up at her, his face taut. “I can’t believe you went to dinner like this.”
“I’ve done it before,” she reminded him. “Just not in public.”
His nostrils flared at the memory of her feeding him with her bare hands, wearing nothing but a grass skirt. He’d clearly enjoyed that, and she’d gotten a thrill out of serving him.
“Spread your legs,” he said.
She almost swooned at the order. Letting her head rock back against the door, she widened her stance. Then she kicked off her sandal and lifted one foot to his shoulder, giving him even better access. He kept her dress bunched in his fist and kissed her swollen sex, his tongue hot.
She panted with arousal, already close. His teasing licks weren’t enough. She wanted one of those screaming orgasms, followed by a hard pounding against a rock. He appeared to share her urgency. Instead of finishing her off with his mouth, like she’d expected, he rose to his feet and removed his shirt.