She dropped the towel to her side and stood to unzip her wetsuit, remembering too late that she only wore her T-shirt and panties, both now wet and clinging to her. Four sets of male eyes focused on her. Adrian stepped in front of her, his back to her.
“There’s an extra T-shirt in that bag there,” he said gruffly, his burr a little heavier than usual. “Gentlemen?”
Adrian made sure the other men faced the other way. He hoped to hell they weren’t picturing her as clearly as he was. Hell, what had she been thinking? He could see her lacy bra, her erect nipples through the thin fabric of her T-shirt, and could see even more through the sexy little panties. His body responded to the sight, to the familiarity. What the hell was she doing wearing underwear like that out here anyway?
He turned when she cleared her throat. She wore his old, limp college shirt and finger combed her loosened hair. She looked so young, like the girl he’d fallen in love with.
He picked up the bloody towel, wiped some crusty blood from her upper lip. Even now he hated to see her hurting, and she was, beyond the nosebleed. It went deeper than that, and she wouldn’t tell him. He wasn’t that person for her anymore.
“It’s stopped now, I think,” he said, stepping back.
She nodded, not looking at him. Was she thinking about the peck on the cheek she’d given him? A perfectly innocent kiss that put him in a perfectly foul mood because for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she would show him affection the day after she’d served him with divorce papers. And it didn’t look like she planned on enlightening him.
“I’m going back tomorrow,” she said quietly, looking out over the waves. For a moment he thought she meant back to the shipwreck, but she quickly clarified. “Back home.”
“Because that’s what you want, to be married to a linguist and work in an office and have manicures.” He snatched up one of her hands.
She yanked it away. “Yes!”
“And what about passion, Mal? Does he give you passion?” He summoned every ounce of control to look into her eyes as he waited to hear the answer, every ounce of control not to drag her against him and remind her of what they had.
“I had passion once. It wasn’t enough.”
He hadn’t been enough. She didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. He just hadn’t been able to give her enough of himself. He’d known it, but to hear her say it, to remember how he’d let her down—he had to turn away. “I want you—to be happy.” The words dragged themselves out of him, and he had to rearrange them so she wouldn’t know he wanted to be the one who made her happy.
“Thank you, Adrian. I am.”
That statement tore at him as Toney joined them, ready to take them to camp. He had wanted to hear doubt in her voice. There had been none.
Chapter Four
Adrian watched Mallory walk out of camp after dinner as the others gathered around the fire, Jacob with his guitar. Adrian had always hated the Kumbaya effect of the campfire, so he made his escape. The sun was going down and Mallory still wore his T-shirt and shorts—not enough protection from the dropping temperature. Good-enough excuse. He grabbed a sweatshirt and headed after her.
He found her on the beach, her legs drawn up, her arms locked around them as she stared out at the ocean. A storm was rolling in, close enough to kick up waves and a good breeze, but far enough away that the increasing flashes of lightning were beautiful rather than deadly.
He dropped a sweatshirt into her lap and lowered himself beside her with a grunt, not as young as he used to be.
“Did you get the dive plan done?” She pulled the sweatshirt on, drawing her knees up beneath the shirt and hugging them to her.
“Yeah, it’s done. But if that comes in, I’ll have to do another.” He gestured toward the storm. “There’ll be no diving tomorrow.”
“What does the weather service say?”
He sifted sand through his fingers so he wouldn’t be tempted to smooth a loose strand of her hair that was being whipped by the wind. “Nothing about that.”
She anchored her hair with one hand and gave one of those wry smiles he used to love. “Nothing’s changed.”
But she was wrong. Gone was the impulsive, adventurous girl. In her place was a cool woman who kept her emotions under wraps. Had he done that to her, hurt her so bad that she’d shut herself off to protect herself?
“You always did love the ocean.”
“I don’t see much of it anymore in Austin.”
He fisted his hand around the sand, let it bite into his skin. “No, you’re pretty landlocked. You should’ve kept the house in Pensacola.”
She didn’t look at him. “I couldn’t stay there.”
Guilt choked him. Of course she wouldn’t be able to. “Not even another house in Pensacola?”
“I had to go where my job was.”
And why that job, working for a multinational corporation instead of working for a museum and doing something with her experience? At least she’d be somehow connected to the life she’d once loved. Yes, she was using her language expertise, but that hadn’t been the part of the job she’d enjoyed. He was afraid she’d chosen this new path because of him, so he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to be the reason she’d turned her back on her life’s work.
“So is it going to be a big wedding?”
She gazed out over the ocean. “Adrian, you don’t really want to hear about this.”
No, he didn’t want to hear. He had to. “I never knew you wanted a wedding. I feel like.” He lifted a hand, dropped it to his knee. “Like I failed you because I didn’t know you better.”
She turned to look at him. “I’m not getting a divorce from you because I want a nice wedding.”
“I realize that.” What he wanted to know but couldn’t ask was why they’d once wanted the same things but no longer did. “I guess I never really saw the girly part of you.”
Another one of those smiles. This one got past his defenses and went straight to his groin.
“You saw quite a lot of my girly parts.”
Memories slammed into him and he shook his head to clear them. “You know what I mean. I didn’t know you were interested in things like weddings. Hell, I never even saw you in a dress till we’d been married a couple of years.” His sister’s wedding. The dress had been a gauzy thing inappropriate for Scotland’s chilly weather, and she’d been buried under a coat most of the time. He’d happily warmed her after the reception. “I never saw you in underwear like you wore today.”
She rested her forehead on her arms, the movement shielding her face. He’d struck a nerve. But it didn’t take long for her to toss her head back and look straight at him. “It’s a recent indulgence.”
“I imagine Jonathan appreciates it.”
Her eyes shifted. “We haven’t reached that level.”
It took him a minute to figure out what she meant. Even then, he couldn’t believe it. “What, no sex?”
She took a deep breath, and for a moment he thought she’d refuse to answer. “No.”
The two of them hadn’t known each other a full day before they’d started ripping each other’s clothes off. Not everyone could say their first time was at Machu Picchu. He’d never known a more passionate woman in his life, a more generous one. “How can that be?”
“I was a married woman.” She smiled wanly.
Adrian couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “And he proposed without, you know?”
She nodded, that Mona Lisa smile curving her lips. “I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve learned how to control my urges.”
“Yeah, but—” Sex had been so much a part of their relationship, he couldn’t imagine being in love with someone without it.
Which was why he hadn’t had a relationship since she’d left.
“Jonathan—he’s not like us. He’s steady and patient and reserved.”
He dragged a hand over his hair as he gathered the courage to pursue his thoughts. “You fell in love with that.”
>
Her expression gentled, like she didn’t want to hurt him. “I felt like I needed the balance.”
After him, she meant. They were too much alike, except when it came to what they each wanted. He knew what he wanted, what he needed, but had no idea about Mallory’s wishes anymore.
He changed the subject. “You want to go over the dive plan?”
Her look changed to one of pity, as if she had to explain something again and again to a child who couldn’t understand. “Adrian, I can’t stay.”
Was that a touch of sadness in her voice, or was he only hoping?
Her tone became brisk. “In fact, if you’ll let me use the satellite phone, I should tell him I’m coming in tomorrow.”
“The possessive sort, is he?” He tried to imagine this man who worked in an office, wore suits and didn’t go crazy because he wasn’t making love to Mallory. No picture came to mind.
“He was worried about me coming down here.”
“Thinks I’ll steal you back, does he?” It was rather pleasant being on the envied end of things.
She smiled and trailed her fingers through the sand. “No worries about that.”
“Ah. He’s heard all about me, then.”
The smile vanished. “He was my best friend after we split.”
The old confidante-to-lover ploy. “So he knows all my faults, I’m sure. That should put his mind at ease.”
“It should. Except he remembers how over the top in love I was with you, even then.”
Adrian was glad her attention had drifted to the waves because he felt all the blood rush from his head at her proclamation. The things they’d said to each other before it ended—he would have never expected to hear them from someone who loved him, and he sure as hell should never have said them to someone he loved.
If he’d known, he’d have tried harder to work things out, though she’d made it clear she wanted him gone. After he’d hurt her, he knew he needed to go.
“But that’s over now.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be marrying him if I still loved you.” Now she did stand, brushing sand off her bottom. “If I don’t see you in the morning, thank you for letting me dive today. It meant a lot. Good night.”
A crash of thunder woke Mallory. She heard the sporadic splatter of raindrops against the roof of the tent before a gust of wind rattled the canvas walls and the sky opened up.
She lifted her head and looked around. No Linda. Big surprise. She’d probably trotted over to Adrian’s tent as soon as Mallory was asleep. Perhaps the two of them were snuggling up cozy against the rain, the way she and Adrian once had.
Pushing that picture aside, Mallory reached for her duffel on the camp stool at the end of her cot and pulled out her slicker, just in case the tent didn’t hold.
Usually she loved sleeping in the rain. Now she stretched and tried to convince herself her tent wouldn’t blow away. She’d pretend she was lying in her little house. But four solid walls and a roof that leaked when it rained hard enough was different from being in a tent with rippling walls and a sagging, though so far watertight, ceiling.
Lightning illuminated the tent, followed immediately by an explosion of thunder. Damn, the storm was right on top of the camp. No way was she going to get any sleep tonight. She sat up and watched the wind try to reach beneath the walls of the tent. Whoever had pitched the tent had done a damn fine job.
The ceiling sagged lower. Not good news. When she put her foot down to stand, to push the water from the roof, she ended up in ankle deep water. Hell. That meant the camp was flooded.
She was reaching into her duffel for her flashlight when she heard shouting outside the tent. She splashed across to the flap, unzipped it.
Adrian stood there in his slicker, his face rain-streaked. That was all she saw before he aimed a flashlight past her, inside the tent. “Where’s Linda?”
She blinked rapidly as if that would help her regain her sight. “I thought she was with you.”
“No, why would she be?” He shone the lamp on her bunk. “Come on. Get your gear. We have to get to higher ground.”
She grabbed her duffel, thankfully packed, then fished underwater for her boots. She turned to see Adrian’s hand extended. Without thinking, she took it and allowed him to lead her out.
They sloshed through mud and water on their way to the two four-wheel-drive vehicles, luckily slightly higher than the rest of the camp. The others were either already shivering in the vehicles or loading stuff in the cargo area. One slickered person pulled her duffel from her hands and slung it in the back of the truck with the rest.
“Where’s Dr. Vigil?” she shouted over the roar of the wind.
“With Toney in the other truck.”
“Will we be coming back?”
“Not tonight.” He opened the passenger door. She hesitated. Wouldn’t he rather have Linda up front with him? When he scowled at her, she climbed in.
The steel body of the vehicle cut the sound of the storm considerably. Mallory glanced behind her to see Linda and Jacob huddled in the backseat, shivering. Adrian swung into the driver’s side of the Land Cruiser.
“Buckle up.”
He coaxed the engine to life and urged the truck forward.
“Where are we going?” Mallory asked.
“Not far. The roads’ll be shit for days after a rain like this. I just want to get up higher so we can try to get a good night’s sleep without worrying about washing away.”
The vehicles moved at a crawl through the blinding rain, Adrian driving the lead car.
The windows fogged with every breath. Mallory fiddled with the defroster until it cleared the bottom part of the windshield. She reached over to wipe at the condensation with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
“Mallory, sit back. I’d rather you be buckled than me able to see.”
“That’s not encouraging.”
He flashed her a grin, and she resisted the urge to shout at him to watch the road. “Like old times, eh?”
“Remember that time in Africa you almost drove off the cliff in weather like this? God. Do you even know where you’re going?”
“I’ve always got an escape plan. You know that.”
She did. Boy, did she. He’d escaped her easily enough. She twisted in her seat to look behind them. The headlights of Toney’s Land Cruiser were barely visible behind them through the torrential rain. She turned and couldn’t see a foot in front of the headlights.
“Relax. We’re going to get there.”
Only then did she realize she was straining against her seatbelt, willing the road to show itself. She had to trust Adrian to get them to safety. Consciously, she rested her shoulders against the seat and closed her eyes.
“Where’s your ring?” he teased. “We could use the extra light.”
She pressed a hand to her breasts. “I’ve got it on a chain.”
“You feel weird wearing it around me.”
“No!”
He glanced over. “You forget how well I know you.”
He was right but she’d never admit it. “Not anymore.”
“Maybe this site is cursed,” Linda murmured.
Mallory glanced at Adrian. He merely shrugged, though a grin tugged at his lips.
They rolled in first gear for what seemed like hours. She felt the press of gravity as they moved up an incline. She prayed that the mud didn’t carry them down into camp.
No one in the backseat spoke at all, and after Adrian’s admonition, the two of them no longer spoke, either. Mallory couldn’t keep her eyes closed long, though. When she opened them, she saw Adrian looking out the side window instead of the windshield. He rubbed the window with his elbow and inched forward.
“Looks like we’ll be okay.” He shut off the engine, pulled the brake and reached under his seat for a bottle of Scotch. “Anybody thirsty?”
“No, no. You’re getting it all mixed up.” Mallory held out the Styrofoam cup for Adrian to refill. She’d decided not
to think about how the cup had ended up under the seat since the first glass of Scotch had washed it clean. “Thailand was the typhoon and Madagascar was the mudslide.”
Adrian poured, his hand shaking from laughter—and probably none too steady from the Scotch he’d consumed. He gestured with the bottle to the backseat, but Jacob and Linda declined—they were likely too young anyway—so he tilted his head back and poured the last drops in his mouth.
“Nah, you’re wrong. Thailand was the mudslide because we stayed in that little hut, remember? The one with the real bed? It was a good thing we evacuated. When we returned, nothing was left.”
“Mm.” She swallowed. “No. Madagascar was the mudslide because I lost my—” She stopped, not quite drunk enough to blurt out their history in front of Jacob and Linda, both who leaned forward to hear over the pounding rain.
Adrian glanced at her and in the shadows she saw his eyebrow quirk.
“And then we—”
The other eyebrow lifted.
She rose up on her knees and leaned over to him. He turned to allow her better access to his ear, and she took a moment to inhale his scent, rain and man, gathering the courage to remind him. “My diaphragm was lost.”
“Ah.” He dragged the syllable out as he leaned his head against the window of the door. “Yes. You’re right. We had to get—creative until we could replace it.”
Even though she only saw his face in flashes and knew he couldn’t see hers, she sensed he was watching her. Not knowing what he could be thinking made her uneasy. She shouldn’t have brought the idea of sex into his thoughts.
“We had some good times, Mal.” The tone of his voice told her just where his thoughts had headed. She needed to divert him.
“So are there any continents you two haven’t been on?” Linda leaned between the seats, a welcome interruption.
“Antarctica,” they answered together.
“And the best?”
“China.” Another answer in unison and this time Mallory looked over in surprise. He watched her steadily. Were his reasons for loving the China expedition the same as hers? If she could see his face, she might be able to tell.
Beneath the Surface Page 4