by Sandra Kitt
Putting one hand to her mouth and pushing against his hard chest with the other, Eva stared at him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, shocked, ignoring the lurching of her heart.
“You have a beautiful mouth,” Maxwell observed as if he was describing the weather or saying good morning. “I wanted to find out if it was as soft as it looks.”
Eva’s mouth opened in indignation, not believing the man’s audacity. But she also found herself waiting to find out his verdict. Maxwell turned away from her without giving it.
“Well?” she asked angrily.
He faced her and shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s okay. Soft…but inexperienced,” he responded indifferently.
“But then, that’s why you have Lavona Morris, isn’t it? So you won’t have to put up with inexperience,” Eva challenged.
Maxwell nodded, not at all moved by Eva’s anger or her sense of humiliation. The lights in his eyes were hidden and disguised by the shadows in the small room. There was a hint of a day’s beard growth now apparent on his warm brown skin.
“There is something to be said for experts,” he agreed.
Eva vividly remembered the womanly form of Lavona Morris and wondered if Maxwell was laughing at her now. She was unaccountably consumed by anger at both the absent woman and Maxwell.
“Well, we all have to be good at something,” she said in an attempt at indifference to match his own. “Too bad Lavona Morris is so limited.”
“Ouch!” Maxwell remarked with a dry chuckle, apparently not offended by Eva’s reference to his girlfriend.
Eva very definitely got her things to leave this time. There were no good-byes between them now, and as she left and climbed into her waiting Jeep, it was to the sarcastic laughter of Maxwell.
“Just what are you good at, Eva Duncan?” she heard him shout behind her.
Chapter Three
Already her days had fallen into a pattern, a comfortable routine that eliminated the need for thoughts or decisions, the biggest ones being what color swimsuit to wear to the beach and what to make for her solitary dinner at night. Halfway through her first week on St. John, Eva sat trying to read a book on the sandy beach of Hawksnest but instead found her eyes following the activities of the other beach occupants. The book remained closed on her lap.
Again she saw Diane and her father prepare to take the boat out but with one added feature. There was another little girl accompanying them as they left the shore in the launch. Diane turned to look down the beach to where Eva sat and waved as the launch moved out to the larger vessel. Eva returned the wave, but she was not at all sure if Adam Maxwell noticed or even cared since he didn’t acknowledge the gesture. Eva sighed deeply and went back to her book.
She dozed for a while in the lazy warmth of the day, and when she awoke, it was just in time to see Maxwell’s launch being pulled and secured in the sand. It seemed darker and cooler, and Eva realized that it was going to rain at any moment. The blue of the sky mixed with gray clouds and then reflected in the aqua water to turn it an unreal shade of pale jade green. Very pretty, but threatening.
Eva watched Diane and the other little girl make a dash into the trees for cover, followed languidly by the unmistakable form of Lavona Morris. Adam was behind her, lifting a sea chest to his shoulders and a duffle bag holding, no doubt, other equipment. A large splat of water on her forehead snapped Eva out of her frowning contemplation of the figures, as she, too, ran for her Jeep and started up the winding road to her hillside house. How clever of Maxwell to supply Diane with a playmate, Eva thought, thereby effectively diverting her attention from the voluptuous Lavona Morris and her relationship to her father. Eva was surprised to find herself enraged by Maxwell’s tactics. But then she fast realized that her feelings were inappropriate. Diane was after all his child, and he dealt with her the way he thought best.
The late afternoon rain continued until after dark, forcing Eva to stay indoors. She used the time to write an obligatory letter to her mother, to make an avocado-and-shrimp salad for dinner, and to wonder against her will about the three occupants and their activities half a mile away down the road.
For the first time since her arrival Eva experienced an unsettling loneliness closing in on her. Her lovely little rented house was suddenly much too large and too quiet. It was also cold and damp from the sudden tropical rain, and she moved from the open-air gallery to the more comfortable area of the sitting room. Her first four days here had served to give her immediate rest and to acclimate herself to a new environment. But she didn’t have to feel stuck on the island, so she planned a day’s outing back to St. Thomas. Perhaps the cabdriver Deacon was right, and the most fun was to be had there.
Everyone in Eva’s office had teased her before she began her trip about the fun and adventure she would find in the Caribbean. Not that she was in any way looking for either. But as she sat now curled into a wicker chair that squeaked with the slightest movement of her body, she wondered where they could have gotten that idea. She’d only met two men here so far and doubted if either could be considered the norm. One could cheerfully have persuaded her to drop her usual quiet demeanor, let her hair down, and take each moment as it came, regardless of the outcome. The other was a silent giant who glowered at her and otherwise barely recognized her existence.
Eva chuckled suddenly in renewed good humor as the rain stopped and water dripped almost musically from tree leaves outside her house. If romance was to be found in the Virgin Islands, it was certainly well hidden.
EVA HAD JUST SETTLED into her usual spot under her shade tree, when she turned at the sound of her name being called and found Diane running toward her, kicking up a spray of sand in her wake.
“Hi, Eva!” she said, breathless from her sprint. She was dressed in the same striped swimsuit Eva had seen her in two days previously. Her hair was again parted into side buns over her ears, but already one had begun to unwind itself, and thick wavy brown hair blew wild in the light sea breeze over the beach.
“Hi, yourself,” Eva responded, noting also that the little girl was in much better spirits today. “Are you having a good vacation so far?”
Diane shrugged, kicking sand up into the air. “I guess…”
Looking over Diane’s head, Eva saw Diane’s father at his usual chore of loading equipment into the launch. But there was no sign of Lavona Morris.
“Are you going out again in your father’s boat?” Eva asked conversationally.
Diane nodded. “We go out every day. Daddy collects fish and things and puts them in jars. Then we come back home and he examines them. We found a real pretty purple fish yesterday, but you can’t eat it.”
“I hope not.” Eva grimaced. She could see that already Diane’s brown skin had gotten browner in the intense tropical sun. She was the color of a cola nut, her rounded limbs smooth and healthy looking. “Does Miss Morris go with you, too?” she found herself asking.
“Not when we go fishing.” Diane frowned, the subject of Lavona obviously uncomfortable for her. “But she comes back with us later. Daddy picks her up at Red Hook.”
“Like yesterday?” Eva asked gently.
“Yeah…” Diane mumbled unhappily. Then she peeked up at Eva from her cute face. “You know what?”
Eva wrinkled her nose pertly, guessing. “You had fried bananas again,” she said positively. Diane giggled.
“At least she doesn’t stay in our house at night,” Diane said in relief. But Eva was surprised. She had no doubt as to the fundamental purpose of Lavona Morris in Adam Maxwell’s life. She wondered how Maxwell managed to conduct an amorous adventure around the presence of his daughter and the confines of his small house.
“Oh?” Eva commented casually.
“Dory Hamilton is her cousin, and she stays with them…I think.”
Eva frowned. “Who’s Dory Hamilton?”
“My friend…” Diane said vaguely, bending forward to scoop a handful of sand and then wat
ching as the breeze blew the particles away into the water.
“Oh. You mean the little girl yesterday?”
“Uh-huh. I’m older than she is. But she’s nice,” Diane decided.
“Diane!” came the strident voice from down the beach. Both female heads turned to find Maxwell standing in an obvious impatient posture. “Are you coming, or what?” he shouted in his deep resonant voice.
Diane sighed, and Eva frowned, wishing Maxwell would demonstrate a bit more control of his temper where Diane was concerned. He so often sounded less like a father and more like a drill sergeant. But quickly the sigh vaporized, and Diane beamed at Eva cheerfully.
“Daddy says you can come with us today.”
“What?” Eva asked in surprise.
“Please say yes,” Diane whined dramatically, her mouth rounding and her brows furrowing in a gesture of childish manipulation. Eva laughed, the sound light and musical. She looked at Maxwell, as he paced the edge of the water, glancing at his large black underwater watch.
“I—I don’t know. I might get seasick.” She couldn’t bear Maxwell’s derision if she did.
“No you won’t! I never do!” Diane responded in her simple logic.
“But I can’t be any help at all.”
“That’s okay.” Diane shrugged, her face suddenly gone sad. “Daddy doesn’t let me help anyway.”
Still Eva hesitated.
“If you come, Eva, then Daddy will have someone to talk to.”
Eva wondered in horror if that meant that Adam Maxwell never talked to Diane. Heavens! The man was impossible.
“Diane! I’m going!” came the barking voice again.
Diane turned wide sable eyes to Eva.
“Just let me put this backrest into my Jeep. I’ll be right there,” Eva decided.
“Oh goody!” Diane jumped and took off down the beach back to her father.
Eva moved with rather reluctant steps to put her portable seat under the passenger seat in her Jeep. Being in Adam Maxwell’s company didn’t inspire her to relax and be comfortable. She was probably being silly, but she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint Diane if it meant the little girl would have a better day.
Eva tied the closings on her short cover-up, grabbed her book and tote, and walked off down the beach to join Diane and her father. Eva squinted through her sunglasses at Maxwell, standing tall and imposing as she approached. She was glad the glasses hid the uncertainty in her eyes as he glared at her, his eyes obviously roaming over her body as she walked.
Eva had grown up being overly aware of her plump body and self-conscious as to how other people saw her. Her five-foot-five-inch frame was down to a slender one hundred twenty pounds and had been maintained since the tragedy in her life. But she still had visions of her thighs being too heavy, her hips too broad, and her chest being chubby instead of rounded and curved. She had yet to fully see what Adam Maxwell saw, and that was an attractive woman, well-sized and proportioned for her height, with hair prettily cropped very short, giving her oval face a perpetual youthful appearance and making her look years younger than she was.
Instead of the confidence she should have shown in her physical being, Eva pulled on the hem of her cover-up as if wishing it would suddenly grow another four inches all around and cover her smooth, soft-looking brown limbs.
Diane had already scampered into the boat and was securing a life jacket over her shoulders. Eva smiled tentatively up at Maxwell. “Good morning. Thank you for inviting me. I hope I won’t be in the way.”
He shrugged, pulling the securing lines from the sand and throwing the rope into the launch. “It was Diane’s idea,” he said caustically.
Figures, Eva thought to herself as she nonetheless contrived to smile pleasantly at him. She stood and waited for Maxwell to tell her what to do. But he just held the side of the small boat as it bobbed in the low surf. Finally Eva came forward and climbed over the side and onto a seat next to Diane. Maxwell gave the launch one powerful push, sending it into the water, and quickly climbed in himself.
Eva had never been in a small motor launch before and found the brief speedy ride to the sailing vessel breathtaking. But it was nothing compared to the later exhilaration she experienced once they were on board and underway in the larger ship. There was a good wind, and Maxwell hoisted the sails to take advantage of it. Before getting too involved in sailing the ship, he walked over to Eva sitting stiffly on the side. She was just wondering what to do with herself when Adam stopped suddenly in front of her, creating a huge shadow as he blocked out the sun.
Reaching down, Adam took her paperback novel clutched in her stiff hands and looked scathingly at the couple painted amorously on the cover. “You’ve been reading this for a week,” he said sarcastically. “It can’t be all that interesting.”
“I’m surprised you were paying that much attention.” Eva smiled sweetly and had the satisfaction of seeing Maxwell nonplussed for the moment at her quick rejoinder. He grunted and gave the book back to Eva. Her hand brushed over his fingers as she took the book, and she experienced a wave of unexplainable apprehension taking hold of her. Adam’s hands were very large, the fingers long and strong. His forearm and the back of his hand were darker still with curly black hair. Eva hastily put the book away, averting her eyes from his virile form. He walked away and returned with a life jacket.
“You probably won’t need this, but all the same…” He carelessly handed it to Eva, and she looked at it as though it was some strange unfamiliar thing, which for her it was. Maxwell, witnessing her confusion, took back the jacket and opened it. He then placed it around her, indicating as one would to a small child for her to put her hands through. Eva obeyed and was even more surprised when Adam proceeded to then secure the snaps of the life jacket.
Again Eva’s eyes were drawn to the movement of his hands. She could only think how easy it would be for him to damage or hurt with hands like his. The nails were neatly trimmed and clean, and for some reason Eva was surprised by that. It somehow contradicted the raw, potently male image he projected otherwise. A chill shook Eva physically with her mental image.
“Are you cold?” he asked in a low, deep voice. Eva looked up into his face, momentarily mesmerized by the odd stare of his light eyes, disappearing into the sameness of his skin color. For whatever reason they both just stared at each other, perhaps seeing another facet in each other that was new.
“No,” Eva breathed, unable to break the lock he held on her eyes. “I’m not cold.”
Adam continued to stare, his eyes moving over the individual parts of her face, and then he abruptly turned and walked away.
Eva settled back to enjoy this unique experience, awed and impressed with Adam’s abilities with the sailing craft. Now that she was actually on deck, she could see the surface area was really quite small and tight. More than four people on board could make moving around tricky.
Diane made small contributions to aiding her father as they got underway with full sails. Then she moved to the stern and got absorbed in the panorama before them. Maxwell stripped off his shirt completely in the sun and cooling sea breeze, and Eva found herself openly staring at the incredible manly picture he made standing against the canvas sails, his arms and hands easily pulling ropes and securing lines. Eva felt an unfamiliar tightness take place in her throat, and her nervous system seemed constricted and edgy, as if sensing danger and already preparing to protect her person. His sinewy body stretched and bent and moved with surprising grace and agility. Adam turned then and looked right into her eyes, his expression closed and distant. Eva fidgeted on her seat bench and turned her eyes out to sea, her last vivid picture that of his broad hair-covered chest.
She looked back when she realized that Adam was walking toward her again, but he continued past, stepping over her outstretched legs to take hold of and maneuver the tiller to steer the vessel. For a long time she was acutely aware of him behind her, but she kept her eyes forward, the wind ruffling up her s
hort hair, her body rocking and swaying with the gentle movements of the boat.
“Eva! Come look!” Diane’s excited voice broke into Eva’s pleasant lulled state. She looked to find Diane gesturing eagerly for her to come forward and look over the edge of the boat with her. Eva bit her lip nervously, debating if she could make it without falling off balance with the ship’s movements, landing on her bottom or, worse still, over the side and into the sea. She quickly glanced over her shoulder at Maxwell, only to find him smiling somewhat wickedly at her indecision.
Standing up gingerly, she automatically grabbed her tote and began a slow and careful journey along the narrow deck to where Diane waited. Eva sat down heavily, letting out the tense breath she was holding in. But she was pleased with herself and unconsciously flashed a bright smile at Maxwell who still sat at his position by the tiller.
“Look, Eva…” Diane pointed with a dimpled finger to the surface water, somewhere off to the right of their craft. Eva strained and frowned, not immediately seeing what Diane was showing her.
“What am I supposed to see?” Eva finally asked.
Diane replied impatiently, “Over there! Can’t you see them?”
And then, Eva did. Two large bulbous structures surfaced above the water for a few seconds before submerging again. Eva gasped. “Good heavens! What were they?”
Diane laughed. “Sea turtles.”
“How do you know?” Eva asked.
“Daddy told me,” Diane answered importantly. “We saw them yesterday, too.”
Eva grinned ruefully. “They’re pretty big for turtles,” she remarked, remembering a palm-sized turtle that one of Gail’s uncles had given her one year in a small round fish bowl.
“They get even bigger, Daddy says. He says if you can get up right behind one and hold on to its back, it’ll take you for a ride!” Diane explained joyfully.