If she turned him down, he could always send her flowers. Or maybe he’d take her to lunch and send her flowers. He was intrigued by Annabelle Terrence, who had obviously not grown up in Hawaii, or even Middle America. She might try to give that impression, but stress brought out her roots. Maybe over lunch he’d find out more about her.
Only one tiny detail prevented him from proceeding with that plan. The folks at the airport said that the Rainbow Systems plane was not there.
Jack was a fast-food kind of guy. Fruits and veggies were okay once in a while, but this guava tree that Gen seemed so excited about didn’t do much for him. Maybe if he’d had a knife to cut them in half they’d have looked more appetizing, but they were kind of mangled by the time he’d used a rock to get them open and they looked sort of like puke. He made his way through a couple of the things, because at least they gave him some liquid and he was getting thirsty.
They’d found a spot in the shade where a ledge of lava rock hung slightly over the beach. Gen had taken off the jacket to her dress and was sitting cross-legged on that, and he’d done the same with his shirt. She looked damned good without her jacket, and watching her suck on those guavas was an experience in itself.
Then there was the matter of the way she was sitting. She had her skirt tucked modestly around her, but still, her thighs were spread, and his imagination was running overtime considering what lay between them. All in all, he didn’t regret this experience, assuming they were rescued in a few hours.
“What I wouldn’t give for a comb,” Gen said as she tossed another guava rind out into the waves.
“What I wouldn’t give for a McDonald’s.” Jack threw his rind and was gratified that it went a little farther out than hers. She had a darned good throwing arm for a woman. Normally he didn’t care about such things, but he was getting into this manly man stuff and he liked having an edge.
“And my nails are hopeless.” She looked down at the sand. “I wonder if I could take one of those sticky rinds to glue some sand onto and file my nails with it?”
“You might want to put that creativity into figuring out how we can signal to the rescuers.”
She squinted at him. “Was that some sort of crack?”
“I just think we have more pressing matters to worry about than your manicure.”
“I didn’t say my nails were the most important thing. I was just thinking aloud, which I’ll be careful not to do in the future, because goodness, I might think about something unimportant. I’m sure you always think important thoughts.”
He wondered if imagining her topless qualified as an important thought. It was occupying him quite a lot now that she’d taken off her jacket and he could watch her breasts jiggle when she moved.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s think about this rescue business. Should we get some rocks and spell out HELP on the sand?”
“We could.”
“Do you think there’s any chance Nick’s still around here somewhere?”
He blinked. He’d been so absorbed in watching her breasts and thinking about how her mouth would taste with guava juice on it that he’d forgotten all about the maniac who had landed them in this predicament. “I doubt it,” he said.
“Yes, but would you bet your prize rooster on it?”
He thought about that for a while and decided that if he had a prize rooster, he’d be cautious about making that bet. They might have flown east about the same distance they’d flown west, which could mean that the miniature island they were on could be the same one Brogan had used as a rendezvous point for his pickup men.
“I can see you’re thinking along the same lines I was thinking,” Gen said. “Nick could be sitting on another part of this island, waiting for his ride. We don’t know which direction the boat’s coming from, or whether they’d circle around for some reason.”
“It’s probably a long shot, though.”
“Are you willing to take the chance?”
Jack thought about the look in Brogan’s eyes when he’d delivered his last wisecrack before he’d jumped. There hadn’t been a glimmer of conscience in those eyes. The man Jack had originally categorized as a self-absorbed asshole had turned out to be a full-blown sociopath, a genuine Ted Bundy kind of guy. Like Bundy, he’d perfected his façade over the years. But now that Jack had seen beneath it, he knew Brogan would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
“No,” he said at last. “I’m not willing to take the chance. This island’s so small and rocky, I’d bet it’s uninhabited, which makes it the perfect rendezvous spot for Brogan. We’d better not try to signal anybody yet. Let’s give him time to get wherever he’s going.”
Gen tilted her head to look up the rocky face of the cliff. “Or we could climb to the top of this place and look around to see if he’s waiting somewhere on the other side. Maybe we could get the jump on him and hold on to him until the rescuers come.”
That decision was easy. He wouldn’t jeopardize Gen’s life. “Not in my wildest dreams.” Putting her life in danger was enough of a reason that he wouldn’t have to admit the other one, that the very thought of going up that cliff, which was high enough to be very scary, made his stomach pitch.
“You do realize that with all that money gone, Rainbow will be in a heap of trouble,” Gen said.
“Matt might have insurance on Brogan.”
“He might, but we’ll have to say he’s not dead, so what good is insurance?”
Jack sighed. “Well, not much. And I’m sorry about that, but you know as well as I do that Matt Murphy would never want us to risk our lives for the company.”
“Of course he wouldn’t, but think of all the people who could lose their jobs. When I think about that, I want to find Nick Brogan and…and feed his jingle-jangles to the hogs!”
Jack grinned. “I wouldn’t mind feeding his jingle-jangles to the hogs myself. But the guy is too dangerous to fool with. I assume his buddies, when they show up, will have more guns and be willing to follow orders. So let’s sit tight on this little beach until we can be reasonably sure he’s gone.”
Gen licked the guava juice from her mouth. “How long do you think we should wait?”
“To be on the safe side?” He had a hard time being totally logical when she moved her tongue like that and reminded him of what that tongue felt like deep inside his mouth. “If you think you can stand it, we should probably hold out until morning. Someone may come along and get us off before then, but by tomorrow morning I figure we can start trying to get some attention without having to worry about Brogan.”
She nodded. “I can hold out, although I’d sure love to have my comb and some lip gloss.”
Her lips looked plenty glossy to him. His problem would be spending all those hours with her without getting friendly again. “As long as we’re wishing for stuff, I wouldn’t mind having a laptop to keep myself occupied.”
“This will be good for you, to get away from that blessed computer for a change. I’ve been meaning to say something to you about that. You need to get out more and away from that screen. Life is about more than staring at a computer screen.”
“Would this little adventure qualify as getting out?” His irritation returned. She wanted him to get out and experience things, but she wasn’t exactly offering to be part of the deal. “Because if it does, I think this should hold me for about ten years. I happen to enjoy the conveniences of the modern world.”
She leaned forward. “I’ll bet you grew up playing video games, didn’t you?”
“What if I did?”
“I just think that kids need to be outdoors, to play marbles in the dirt instead of spending their afternoons clutching some joystick. We didn’t have any electricity back in the Hollow, so we didn’t even know about video games. But we had plenty to do.”
“So I gathered.” He held her gaze long enough that she began to blush.
“That wasn’t what I meant. I meant we made up our own games.”
“Uh
-huh. At least playing video games didn’t end up with girls getting pregnant at thirteen.”
“I shouldn’t have told you anything about that.” She stood up. “I’m going down to the water to rinse my hands off.”
He watched her go and wished he hadn’t let his irritation get the better of him. In actuality, he was curious about her life back in Tennessee, and he’d like to hear more about it. But when she’d started ragging on his beloved video games and making him sound like a nerdy little kid with no life, he hadn’t appreciated it. He had been a nerdy little kid with no life, which made him even more sensitive on the subject.
She had a nice walk with a gentle sway to her hips that was sexy without being an obvious bid for attention. She wasn’t trying to get his attention, anyway. He was a long way from being her fantasy man.
When she leaned over to wash her hands in the surf, he had a great view of her ass, but he supposed she didn’t even care if he was sitting there enjoying the show. He could be her goddamned brother for all she cared. He probably should have made love to her when he’d had the chance, when she’d convinced herself he was a pirate. Women hardly ever got pregnant with a one-shot deal like that, so he wouldn’t have been taking that big a risk.
But being the kind of guy he was, he’d had to think of that. Even if she’d been willing to spend all night doing the nasty, he wouldn’t, because, oh darn, this island didn’t come equipped with a condom dispenser.
She straightened and gazed out to sea, her hand shading her eyes. If she was half as blind as he was without glasses or contacts, she wouldn’t be seeing much out there. But he understood the urge to scan the horizon for boats. He’d been doing it, too, whenever he wasn’t admiring her breasts or her lips or her toes. He’d discovered a real fondness for her toes, which were especially long and elegant.
Without warning, she whirled and came running back, sand spurting from under her feet. “Jack! Jack, come look!”
He leaped up, heart hammering. “Brogan?”
“No. But I see something out in the water!” She grabbed his hand and started tugging him toward the line of surf. “I need you to come and look with your glasses.”
He let himself be tugged. It was the first time he’d been able to touch her since the make-out session lying on the sand, and he loved the connection.
She stopped just short of the waterline. Still holding his hand, she pointed to something bobbing in the waves. “Can you see it?”
Sure enough, he could see something round and smooth out there. “Yeah, but I have no idea what it might be.”
“Let me borrow your glasses. I think I know what it is.”
He took them off and gave them to her. When she put them on, she instantly looked more serious, and he had to smile. She looked great in glasses, but she probably wouldn’t think so.
“They’re perfect for me!” she said with some surprise. “We must have the same prescription.”
“Could be.” He liked that idea. Something, at last, that they shared.
“It is!” she shouted. “It’s my suitcase! Oh, Jack, would you fetch it for me?”
“Okay.” He squinted in the direction she was staring. Without his glasses the round blob wasn’t very distinct, but he could make it out. The thought of going back out into the water was about as appealing as having a vasectomy without anesthesia, but he would do it, for her. She didn’t know it yet, but he would do anything she asked of him, on the slim chance that she’d discover that she was once again grateful for his efforts. She was a woman who really knew how to express her gratitude.
Chapter Seven
Genevieve stood with the water lapping her ankles as Jack waded out into the surf in the direction of her suitcase. Her round pink suitcase! She’d been so ashamed of it this morning as she’d loaded it into Nick’s trunk, and now she’d never seen such a beautiful thing in her life.
She wondered if it had stayed afloat because of its rigid construction. Nick’s soft-sided suitcase might have sunk to the bottom. Come to think of it, his suitcase might have been stuffed with newspapers or rags. He couldn’t have packed anything valuable in it, considering that he hadn’t intended to take it with him in the first place.
Every time she thought of Nick Brogan she wanted to punch something or somebody. But she couldn’t punch Jack, because he was the person who had saved the day. He also looked surprisingly good without his shirt. He was pale, though, and already starting to burn. Lucky for him she had both sunscreen and lotion in her suitcase.
And condoms. Why she suddenly remembered that was a mystery. She would not be using them with Jack, that was for sure. She already had enough to live down with that incident in the sand a while ago. One thing her mother had drummed into her head was that you didn’t get physical with a man unless you thought he had marriage potential.
Jack would make a sorry husband. Try asking him to bring home a carton of milk and a loaf of bread from the store and see what you’d get. Probably a case of Coke and a package of Gummi Bears. Even those would arrive hours late because he wouldn’t even remember to come home in the first place.
Genevieve wanted a man who would be attentive. Nick had fooled her into thinking he’d be attentive, but from the moment he’d picked her up at her house she’d started questioning that. Now she knew why he’d treated her so poorly, not opening doors or helping her in and out of places. He was fixing to kill her, so why bother?
Jack stopped wading and started swimming. His direction was a little off, probably because he couldn’t see without his glasses.
She made a megaphone with her hands. “To the right!” she shouted.
He didn’t act like he’d heard her, and he probably hadn’t with the sound of the surf and the distance. The suitcase was farther out than she’d thought, but she was beginning to realize that distances were tricky on the ocean.
Jack stopped to tread water and look around. He must have spied the suitcase, because he set off in the right direction this time.
As she watched him head for it, her heart did a funny flip-flop. The minute she’d asked him to go after her suitcase, he’d started into the water without a single argument. He hadn’t asked her what was so important in that suitcase, and he hadn’t told her to wait and see if the tide brought it in.
Now that she considered how willing he’d been to plunge into the water on her behalf, she wondered if she should have asked, after all. He had a thing for her, no question, and it would be cruel to encourage him. Asking him for favors was a kind of encouragement, and she needed to watch herself on that.
About the time she was vowing not to make any more requests of him, she saw the shark fin, gliding like a toy sailboat along the water, a sailboat with a black sail instead of white. It was behind him, and he was concentrating on reaching for the strap of the suitcase, so he wouldn’t have any idea what was coming.
“Jack!” Tossing his glasses up on the dry sand, she splashed into the surf, yelling his name and waving her arms. He paid no attention. She launched herself into the waves and swam as fast as she could. Yelling took too much breath, so she stopped doing that.
She switched to the breast stroke so she could see him, and here he came toward her, the strap looped over one arm and the suitcase bumping his back each time he stroked. At first she didn’t see the fin and prayed the shark had gone away. But then she saw it again, not far behind Jack. She tried to call out his name and got a mouth full of water instead.
Coughing and sputtering, she sculled the water with one hand and pointed over his head with the other. He must have finally figured out her signal, because he turned his head. Then he started swimming like crazy.
“Leave the suitcase!” she yelled.
But he must not have heard her because he kept the suitcase, which only bumped more frantically against his back. Heart pounding, she tried to gauge whether he was putting any distance between him and the shark. And then, miracle of miracles, the shark turned and started back out to sea. She cl
osed her eyes in relief.
Jack nearly ran her over. Grabbing her shoulder, he shoved her through the water toward shore. She started swimming just to keep him from manhandling her any more. She doubted that he’d understand her if she told him the shark was gone.
They stumbled out of the water together and both fell to their hands and knees, gasping for breath.
“I got”—Jack’s chest heaved—“I got it.” He slid his arm out of the strap.
“Oh, Jack.” She glanced over at him crouching there, water running from his hair into his eyes, and she had the urge to hug him. She didn’t, though, because that could lead to more of what had happened before. “I shouldn’t have sent you out there.”
He pushed back on his haunches and wiped the water from his face. It clung in bright droplets to his bristly beard. “You didn’t know.”
“I could have guessed. I know these waters are loaded with sharks.” She eased to a cross-legged position and tucked her skirt around her legs. She should probably save the effort. The water had made her dress transparent again, so Jack could see about all there was to see.
He was looking, too. Fortunately he didn’t have his glasses, so she’d be hazy, just like he was hazy to her. They probably both looked like dream people to each other, fuzzy and soft. But she could sort of see his belly button, so he could probably identify her nipples through the wet dress. She crossed her arms.
“Where are my glasses?”
Uh-oh. “I took them off before I dived in to save you. I tossed them up on the dry sand.” She uncrossed her arms and stood, facing away from him as she tried to figure out where she’d been standing when she’d thrown the glasses. “I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.”
Jack got to his feet. “Let’s hope they’re around here somewhere. Couldn’t you have set them down, like on a rock?”
Nerd in Shining Armor Page 9