Spirit Lifter

by Debra Glass

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Spirit Lifter

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Spirit Lifter Copyright © 2009 Debra Glass

  Edited by Kelli Collins.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication March 2009

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Spirit Lifter

  Debra Glass

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Marriott: Marriott International, Inc.

  Sea Ray: Ray Industries, Inc.

  Volkswagen: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft

  Cougar: Ford Motor Company

  Chapter One

  Amy stood in the open doorway to Reed’s guesthouse holding the last box of her stuff. Reed found it ironic that his stepsister was on the brink of her romantic life while his had just spiraled down the toilet.

  “I hate to leave you like this,” she said, shifting the box onto her hip so she could sweep her mass of honey blonde curls out of her face.

  “I’ll be fine.” But in truth, he was anything but fine. His girlfriend, Lane, had packed her bags and left just when he’d thought everything was going great.

  You’re not capable of letting anyone in…

  What the hell had she meant by that?

  Amy glanced over her shoulder at his thirty-seven-foot Sea Ray hanging in the lift. “Why don’t you take your boat out? The sun’s about to set. It’d be a nice time for a cruise.”

  Reed heaved a sigh. The boat did need some running time…

  “Come on,” Amy said. “I have a feeling that’s just what you need to get your mind off Lane.”

  Reed’s gaze shifted to Amy’s and he studied her blue eyes. Was that knowing hint a hit from his psychic little sister or was she just patronizing him?

  They’d been stepsiblings since his mother had married Amy’s dad. Reed’s own father had skipped out so long ago, Reed didn’t have any memory of him other than the time he saw his mom hang up the phone and look wistfully out over the river for a moment before she made the unfeeling announcement, “Well, your father died of a petrified liver out in Arizona.”

  Reed forced a smile as he shook off the distant memory. “All right, Aim. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do it.”

  Amy’s glossy lips stretched into a grin. “Good.” Leaning over the box, she gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek and then she darted up the steep driveway to where her husband, William, waited in their VW van.

  True love.

  It happened.

  Amy had certainly found it.

  Shuddering, Reed knew that William would forever make him recall the old plantation house he’d restored—the one in which he’d found a skeleton concealed behind a wall in the cellar. He’d been consumed with the story of the plantation owner’s murdered wife and the Native American artist rumored to be her lover. But when William Red Feather’s ghost had followed Amy home, Reed had quickly realized he too had been caught up in more than a mystery.

  Despite Amy’s attempts to shield him from the world of spirits and black magic with which she was all too familiar, Reed had nearly died in that old plantation house. That had been the first time he’d ever seen a ghost—and he hoped the last.

  Ghosts…

  Even looking at William in the flesh now, and knowing he’d begun his life two centuries prior, dredged up memories of events Reed wished he could forget.

  He glanced out over the mesmerizing slate gray waves of the Tennessee River. Amy was right. He did need to get on with his life, and perhaps a cold beer and a slow cruise up to Wilson Dam and back would be just the thing to jumpstart him.

  After icing down a six-pack of longnecks and packing them a cooler, he whistled to his three-legged brown Doberman, Tripod, and walked out to the dock.

  Tripod eagerly loped down the hill to the pier as Reed hit the switch to lower his boat, Spirit Lifter, into the water. The winches groaned under the weight of the big boat.

  Reed climbed onto the boat, set his cooler on the deck and unsnapped the protective tarp that covered the helm before tossing it onto the dock. Once the way was cleared, Tripod bounded onto the boat, oblivious to the fact he possessed only one back leg and wasn’t supposed to be the agile creature he pretended to be.

  As Reed climbed down into the cabin, he couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d taken the boat out. Lane had been with him. His gaze drifted toward the master bed nestled in the bow and he tamped down the memories he had of spending sultry Alabama nights on this very boat in Lane’s arms.

  He flipped the breakers to the generator and turned on the switches to the boat’s powerful twin engines. When he punched the CD player, Sarah McLachlan’s melodic voice filled his ears. The beautiful music only intensified the empty feeling in his gut. Reed would have tossed the CD overboard but since it was the only one on the boat, he let it play.

  “I’m just a glutton for punishment,” he said to Tripod, who’d maneuvered the steep steps down into the cabin. After doing his usual sniff search of the galley and captain’s quarters, the dog followed Reed back up to the helm.

  Reed put the key in the ignition and then punched the engine buttons. Spirit Lifter rumbled to life and Tripod barked triumphantly as Reed backed the big cruiser out of the slip and into the river.

  Certain no barges or other boats were in his path, Reed cracked open a beer and sat back to enjoy the slow ride up Wilson Lake while Tripod darted back and forth across the back deck, huffing excitedly at the water churned up by the engines.

  The Marriott Renaissance Tower loomed beyond the broad expanse of Wilson Dam and Reed avoided thinking about taking Lane to the sky-high rotating restaurant there to enjoy the view and cocktails.

  How could he ever get over her when everything reminded him of her? Her strawberry-colored hair. The scent of her perfume. Her pale, freckled skin…

  When he’d realized there was a rift between them, he’d tried to talk to her. He’d wanted to work things out.

  But she’d said it was too late.

  The setting sun cast a rosy glow across the sky that seemed to seep into the water. As Reed sipped his beer, he watched, amazed at how quickly the sun disappeared behind the turning leaves of the trees.

  The beauty of this place always left him in awe of the universe and for the first time in days, a sense of peace swept over him.

  Reed steered the boat parallel to the nearly mile-long dam, gazing through the spillways at the bass fishermen casting line
s among the rocks more than a hundred feet below on the other side. In the 1930s, the Tennessee Valley Authority had dammed the mighty Tennessee River at intervals, creating one of the country’s most widely trafficked waterways. The area of the river Reed lived on was known as Wilson Lake. A massive body of water, Wilson Lake boasted a serene expanse of pricey and much sought after properties.

  After skirting the length of the massive dam, Reed turned the boat and headed back in the direction he’d come, this time along the north shore of the river.

  The shore was much steeper on this side, sprinkled with deep, wide, shadowy coves. Three or four moneyed men in the quaint city of Florence, Alabama, owned most of this land and much of it was still wooded and wild.

  Tripod suddenly let out a sharp bark.

  “What’s up, boy?” Reed asked, looking back to see his dog’s piercing gaze trained on one of the coves.

  Reed squinted and stared into the evening shadows. The last rays of sun glinted off an object flailing in the water.

  A person?

  “Holy shit!” Reed exclaimed and bumped up the throttle as he carefully but quickly navigated into the cove.

  Tripod barked incessantly and as Spirit Lifter approached, Reed saw that a woman was struggling to stay afloat in the murky water.

  After killing the engines, he dove into the river and swam as hard as he could toward her. Just as she slipped beneath the surface, he caught her and hauled her back up, holding her around the chest as he worked his way back to the boat.

  “Hang on!” he said breathlessly as he tried to hold her afloat with one hand and work the ladder loose with the other.

  Finally, it splashed into the water, narrowly missing Reed’s head. Finding a toehold, he urged the petite woman onto the deck. She sprawled, coughing and sputtering.

  At least she was breathing.

  Reed climbed onto the deck and sat to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She managed a nod.

  The eerie sense that something wasn’t right pervaded Reed. His gaze scanned the recesses of the broad inlet. No one would have swum the several yards it took to reach the middle—in a dress.

  She didn’t look much over thirty and although she wasn’t wearing shoes, a silver heart pendant dangled around her neck.

  Her thin cotton dress clung to her body, accentuating her curves in a way that drew Reed’s attention to her sexy good looks.

  “You would have drowned if I hadn’t come along,” Reed said, the grave thought stunning him.

  The woman pushed herself up and sat.

  Reed jerked off his sopping tennis shoes and tossed them onto the passenger deck. “How’d you get way out there anyway?”

  She shrugged but glanced nervously back at the cove.

  She didn’t look drunk or high. Still, something didn’t add up. And when she rubbed her ankle, Reed noticed an angry red mark—as if she’d been bound.

  Panic surged.

  Had someone tried to kill her?

  It was too dark to see anyone on shore but Reed knew he’d better hightail it out of the cove before this woman’s would-be assailant returned to make sure the job was done.

  “Is somebody trying to kill you?” Reed asked pointedly.

  Her astonished gaze told him he was right.

  At once, Reed scooped her up off the deck and ushered her into the cockpit. He pulled the throttle back and planed the boat out of the inlet toward the middle of the lake.

  “What happened to you?” he asked once they were safely well away from the shadowy cove.

  “I-I—” she stammered, rubbing her temples. “I’m just glad you came along when you did.”

  “You’re shivering,” Reed said before he darted down into the cabin to get a beach towel.

  When he returned, she looked up at him with gratitude shining in her eyes. He wrapped the towel around her. “There. That’s better.”

  Tripod stared. He didn’t sniff. He didn’t try to figure her out. He didn’t even bark anymore. He just stared.

  “I’m Reed Severin.” He sat beside her on the seat.

  “I’m Cora,” she said and then pressed her bottom lip between her teeth in thought.

  Jesus, what had happened to this woman?

  He reached into the cooler, retrieved a beer and unscrewed the top before handing it to her. “Maybe this will help.”

  “Thanks,” she said and took a long drink.

  Her long, dark hair hung in wet strands around her face and with the thick towel gathered up around her neck, she looked more like a lost little girl than the voluptuous woman she clearly was.

  “We need to get you to a hospital,” he said.

  “No!” she said, seizing his arm.

  Reed looked down at her pale hand on his tanned arm and then back up into her eyes.

  “Please don’t,” she said. “Just let me stay with you awhile.”

  “Sure,” he said against his better judgment. “Sure.” He swept her into his arms and tried to warm her by rubbing her vigorously. She was probably in shock more than anything else.

  He could practically feel the tension melting out of her body. Brushing his cheek against her wet hair, he breathed in the earthy scent of the river mingled with an utterly feminine perfume. Closing her eyes, she nuzzled her face against his chest and Reed held her, listening to the calming sound of Sarah McLachlan’s ethereal voice mingled with the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of Spirit Lifter.

  She shifted against him and then raised her head so that she looked up into his eyes. In the pale moonlight, he could see her eyes were a jewel shade of green.

  His heart skipped a beat because he suddenly, intuitively knew she was going to ask him to kiss her.

  And then she did.

  “Kiss me,” she uttered, even as the fingers of her free hand entwined in his damp hair to draw his head downward.

  All rational thought fled as their lips touched, tentatively at first and then he pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue finding its way through the tiny opening she left him.

  His cock surged against the confines of his drenched jeans and her hand moved downward, finding him hard. She moaned into his mouth and moved restlessly against him.

  Dragging her lips from his, she looked breathlessly into his eyes. “Fuck me, Reed. I need you.”

  Chapter Two

  A voice in the back of Reed’s head whispered that he was in danger but his body quickly squelched any reticence. So much frustration and hurt and confusion had built up in him since Lane had left, he was incapable of coherent thought.

  “Please,” Cora whispered, her full lips forming a luscious pout that made Reed want to kiss her again.

  “I’ve gotta get the boat tied up first,” Reed said, pushing up the throttle to speed toward his pier.

  Tripod lay uncharacteristically quiet, still staring warily at Cora as Reed pulled the boat alongside his pier and then tossed the bumpers over before tying Spirit Lifter to the moorings.

  He’d hoped common sense would prevail during his tasks and that he’d do the right thing by driving Cora straight to the hospital—but it did not.

  Instead, he grabbed two more beers in one hand he took Cora by the other to lead her down into the luxurious cabin.

  At one time, Reed had considered renting out his house on the lake and simply living on the Spirit Lifter. The cabin and master stateroom could comfortably sleep up to eight people and, with the boat’s well-appointed galley, two televisions, shower, head and spacious master bedroom, Reed could have easily resided on it.

  He watched with pride as Cora’s gaze scanned the kitchen area and then the sumptuous leather sofa that could be converted into a bed for two.

  “Nice boat,” she mused aloud.

  “It’s all I’d ever need,” Reed said, drawing her into his arms. In the light, he could see just how beautiful she really was. Creamy skin. Dark, wavy hair that hung well past her shoulders. Small breasts just the perfect size and shape
for nuzzling.

  Immediately, she undid his belt and then unfastened his jeans. Reed inhaled sharply as she reached down his pants and took his turgid cock in her hand.

  Her eyes widened momentarily and then she dropped to her knees, pulling and tugging his jeans down his legs. Without hesitation, she engulfed his cock between her lips, sucking frantically as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

  The rocking of the boat forced Reed to plant a hand on the low ceiling of the cabin. Looking down, he watched the woman he’d rescued from certain death only moments ago as she sucked his cock. The sight was so erotic all he could think about was how good it felt and how much he wanted to feel her from the inside out.

  “Damn, baby,” he muttered as she flicked her tongue along the sensitive underside and then around the head.

  Her lashes fluttered open and she tilted her head back just far enough to gaze up at him as she lolled her tongue around his shaft.

  Too long…

  It’d been too damn long.

  She took her beer and drank half the bottle before setting it down and going back to sucking him. Her mouth was cool but heated up fast as she worked, the powerful muscles in her jaw and throat tugging him sensuously with rhythmic ferocity.

  Reed guzzled his own beer, rocking his hips toward her mouth, fighting the urge to come down this sexy stranger’s throat. He’d never done this kind of thing with a girl he didn’t know. He wasn’t the kind of guy who racked up one-night stands.

  But this was different. She was different.

  Intuitively, he sensed Cora’s mutual erotic need. It was as if they shared some sort of intertwined sexual destiny.

  And now it was her turn.

  After raking a strand of hair off her forehead, he shifted his hips. She looked at him, anticipation apparent in her eyes.

  “Your turn,” he said huskily as he coaxed her onto the sofa.

  The way her eyes drank him in made him feel as if he were suddenly the only man in the world as he stripped off his wet T-shirt and kicked his jeans and boxers off. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” he told her as he helped her wriggle her dress up and over her head.