“You’re up,” she said. Eyes wide, her gaze swept his naked torso.
“Oh, I’m definitely up,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her. He lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted of coffee and a hint of dark chocolate. God, he’d never get enough of her. He pressed his erection into her belly.
She tensed, then relaxed and returned his kiss. Sweet Irish.
He took the coffee from her hand, got rid of it on the dresser and returned to her. She stared at him, maybe a little warily.
“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he said, cupping his palms on her chilled cheeks.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“I missed you,” he said, trailing his lips down her throat, placing gentle kisses on her soft skin.
“Did you?” she asked on an exhale, arching her neck. She placed her hands on his buttocks, but didn’t urge him closer.
“Oh, yeah, babe.” He cupped her full breast through the T-shirt. “Did you miss me?”
She sucked in a breath, pushing her flesh deeper into his hand. “I wasn’t gone that long.”
He wasn’t sure he liked that answer. He wanted her to miss him. Miss him desperately. Maybe they should have a conversation about where she’d been, why she left, how she was feeling, but that breathy, sexy voice sent him over the edge.
They could talk later. He wanted her now.
He lifted her and carried her toward the bed.
“Javi,” she squeaked. “What are you doing?” she asked in a voice full of laughter.
“I think what I’m doing should be obvious, Irish.”
He laid her on the bed. She grinned up at him.
“I plan to demonstrate exactly how much I missed you.”
She quirked an eyebrow as he lowered himself to her. “Always more plans.”
* * *
WEARING THE ONLY dress she’d packed for a cruise on a sailboat—a pale green halter sundress—Cat entered the resort’s lavish dining room with Javi. They were meeting his friend who had made the repairs on Spree. She’d worried about being underdressed, but a quick survey told her the other guests were also casually attired. While shopping this afternoon, she’d found an emerald-colored pashmina to cover her shoulders, so that helped.
She darted a look at Javi, as did most of the women in the room. He looked handsome as always in khakis and a blue dress shirt. And he’d shaved.
When he’d emerged from the bathroom after his shower, she couldn’t stop staring at his clean-shaven chin. She’d probably drooled, but couldn’t remember. Her dangerous buccaneer now resembled a stockbroker more than a swashbuckling pirate.
He claimed to have done it for her as he’d noticed beard burn on certain tender parts of her anatomy. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Javi’s new look—actually, his old look, according to him.
A black gentleman wearing a brown leather jacket stood when they approached his table.
“Javi, my man,” he said, shaking Javi’s hand.
“You remember Heathbow, don’t you, Cat?” Javi asked. “Heath, Cat Sidran.”
“Of course,” Cat replied, extending her arm. Her hand disappeared inside his large one. “Your friend who let us use his gas dock while you cleared customs. Thank you again.”
“No problem, pretty lady,” Heathbow said, bowing. “You can use my dock anytime.”
“Stop flirting with my date,” Javi said. “I’ll tell Vonnie.”
“My wife does not mind if I flirt with beautiful women,” Heath said, an aggrieved tone to his voice. He released Cat’s hand and made a sweeping motion. “Please. Have a seat.”
Cat smiled at Javi as he pulled out her chair.
“Where is your better half?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“In the ladies’ room. She’ll be along.”
“I’m right here, Javi.”
“Vonnie,” Javi said. He came to his feet again and hugged a gorgeous brown-skinned woman. She was as petite as her husband was large, and cover-girl stunning. Her dark hair had been drawn back into a French braid, highlighting her symmetrically perfect face. Large gold hoops dangled from her ears.
She released Javi and sat beside her husband.
After introductions, Vonnie gave Cat a sympathetic look. “Honey, you are one brave woman.” She shook her head, hoops swaying with the motion. “I cannot imagine the hell you must have gone through.”
“So you heard about our trouble?” Cat said.
“It’s all Heath and his brother can talk about,” Vonnie said. “Renfro wanted to come tonight but he’s on duty.”
“Heath’s brother is with the Royal Bahamian Defence Force,” Javi said.
“The entire force is grateful,” Heath said.
“You know how seriously they take a cop killer,” Vonnie added.
“The minister of justice plans on sending a special thanks to the special agent in charge in your division. Could get you a promotion.”
“All I want is to go back to active duty,” Javi said.
“Because you miss the excitement. Am I right?” Vonnie asked.
“I do love my job,” Javi admitted.
“I still say all you law enforcement types are ill,” Vonnie said with a wave of her hand. “I was a happy woman the day Heath retired.” She beamed at her husband.
Heath laughed. “I sure don’t miss being shot at.”
Vonnie’s smile faded. “I’m sorry about your injury, Javi. How is your recovery coming?”
“I’m good,” Javi said.
Cat took a sip of her water. Typical of Javi not to admit any weakness, but his leg still ached on occasion. The intimacies they’d shared revealed that truth.
“How much longer until you’re cleared?” Heath asked.
“Another three weeks,” Javi answered.
The waiter inquired about drinks, and Heath ordered a bottle of champagne.
“It’s on me,” he said. “We deserve to celebrate.”
“That’s not necessary, man. I already owe you for our time on the gas dock.”
“That’s right,” Heath grumbled. “You cost me a bundle of cash that day.”
“Oh, stop it, Heath.” Vonnie swatted her husband gently on his arm. “He does the same thing with our kids,” she told Javi. “Teases unmercifully. Don’t pay any attention.”
“How are your little rug rats?” Javi asked.
As the old friends lapsed into conversation about children and events she knew nothing about, Cat found herself tuning them out. Javi tried to include her in the dialogue, even nudged her leg under the table a few times. She shrugged, knowing she was the outsider. As usual. She’d been born lacking the ability to easily interact with strangers.
Always on the outside looking in. Story of her life.
“So when are you going to settle down and have some kids of your own?” Vonnie asked with a meaningful wink in Cat’s direction.
Cat felt heat rush into her face.
“Kids of my own?” His voice shocked, Javi sat back in his chair. “Now, why would I want to go and do that?”
Vonnie wagged her finger at him. “You aren’t getting any younger, Javier Rivas.”
Cat shared in the laughter. But the question screaming through her mind was: Would he get any older? She was grateful for the shawl as a chill traced her spine.
So Javi didn’t want children. Maybe that was a good thing considering his career and the risks he liked to take. He could make their mother a widow, a woman forced to raise her offspring without a father. He’d already been shot once. For all she knew, it hadn’t been the first time.
Fortunately, they’d had sense enough to use condoms last night. Yes, they’d had unprotected sex on the island, but it was unlikely she�
�d gotten pregnant.
She tightened the wrap around her shoulders. Strange things had happened this week. What if an unplanned pregnancy was another in that string of disasters?
What would she do? What would Javi do—if she told him?
She wanted children, even if Javi didn’t. And she intended to raise her kids much differently than the way her parents had raised her. She wouldn’t judge her child if he or she were born with a personality opposite from hers. She’d allow her child to blossom into the person they were meant to be.
She knew she needed to focus on Javi’s negative traits instead of how good he made her feel. After all, she’d known him less than a week. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, girl.
No matter how many times today she’d reminded herself she was all screwed up from the turmoil of this disastrous vacation, her feelings for Javi still felt all too real.
“Tell me about the repairs on Spree,” Javi asked Heath.
The mention of the boat jerked her attention back to the conversation.
“Done,” Heath announced, leaning forward. “The weather looks great, so you can leave at first light.”
* * *
RELAXED IN THE cockpit of Spree, Javi squinted at the set of the mainsail. Looked good. So did the genoa. They had had a steady wind of between fifteen and twenty knots, and were on a beam reach slicing through the water almost level. The sun shone bright overhead. The humidity was tolerable.
They were making excellent time back to Florida. Today was the kind of day made for sailing.
Cat had the wheel, managing the boat as if she were born to the sea.
And talk about looking good.
He took a long pull of cold water, his gaze still on her. She’d planted her long shapely legs wide to give herself better balance. Her firm breasts pressed against her T-shirt.
He’d never get tired of looking at her.
The sun glinted off gold and cinnamon highlights in her long hair, which she’d pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was shaded by a white visor with Green Gully Orchids in dark green lettering.
She no longer checked the telltales on the sails every three minutes. He loved that she’d grown comfortable with how Spree maneuvered and was able to “feel” by the set of the sails or action of the water over the rudder when the boat was off course and could make necessary course corrections intuitively.
It took some people years to learn how to do that.
Cat didn’t seem to be aware of how special she was. Why was that? The women he’d known never let you forget if they were beautiful or intelligent, a definite turnoff. Cat was both.
Although something was off about her today. He hadn’t been able to figure out exactly what it was, which was irritating, but there was something new going on inside that beautiful mind. Her attitude toward him had changed.
He’d asked what was wrong, but she’d denied any problem. Unfortunately, Cat was exactly like other women he’d been with in that regard.
He tossed his water bottle in the recycle bag. He didn’t want their return to Florida to mean the end of the road with Cat. Maybe he needed to tell her so.
“Do you need a break?” he asked.
“In a little while,” she said, flashing him a smile that seemed friendly enough. Had he imagined a problem?
“This weather is perfect,” she said. “I’m enjoying myself.”
“You like sailing,” he said.
“I do,” she agreed. “I really do.”
“I told you this trip would be fun.”
“Amazing how you can even control the weather.”
He shook his head, remembering the rough crossing to Bimini. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into crossing the Gulf Stream in a norther.”
“And because we didn’t listen to you, bad things happened.”
And there it was again. That slight shift in attitude that she’d demonstrated ever since they’d left Alice Town. Snarky almost, but not quite. She’d admitted she enjoyed the sailing, so it had to be something to do with him. Although of course she’d deny any problem existed.
He stood and stretched his arms high overhead. Damn, that felt good. No pain from his wound today, either. The voyage from hell was almost over. Spree wasn’t chartered again until after he went back on duty. Time to celebrate.
It was five o’clock somewhere.
“I’m going below for a beer. Can I get you anything?”
“No,” she said with a quick smile. “I’m good.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed, and she flinched ever so slightly. He dropped his arm. What was that about? Since when didn’t she want him touching her?
He took a long look at her face, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Her nose had turned pink from too much sun. Ditto the bare skin on her arms.
“Are you sure nothing is wrong, Cat?”
“I’m sure. On second thought, I’d like a beer, too.”
“I’ll open a bottle of wine for you.”
“No thanks. Beer is fine.”
He shrugged and went below to the cooler. Cat didn’t care for beer. She’d take two swallows and the rest would slowly turn flat and warm.
When he returned to the cockpit, he popped her can and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she said, took a quick swallow and set it in the captain’s holder by the wheel.
“You’re welcome.”
He popped his own can and returned to his seat where he could watch her. And try to figure out what was going on. Or was he crazy? Overly sensitive to her moods? Temperamental women had never bothered him before. He usually ignored their unpredictability, chalked it up to life. If it got too difficult, he moved on.
Why should it bother him so much that Cat wasn’t herself?
Again noting her imminent sunburn, he grabbed a tube of sunscreen, squeezed some onto his hand and smoothed the cream onto her left forearm.
She jerked her arm away.
Their gazes locked, and he looked at her questioningly. She usually welcomed his touch.
“I’ll do that,” she said. “Take over for me. I need a break, anyway.”
As Javi slid into her space behind the wheel, he couldn’t help but breathe in her now-familiar scent. He resisted the opportunity to grab a quick kiss.
She could pretend or lie all she wanted, but something was up with Irish.
When settled at the helm, he shot her another quick glance. She was applying sunscreen, something that shouldn’t be erotic. But watching her slide fingers over her flesh made him want to do it for her.
He returned his attention to the boat.
“How much longer?” she asked after what seemed like a long time.
“In a hurry to get home?” Was that it? Was she anxious to get home?
“It’s been a long day.” She shrugged. “A long week.”
“If you look through the binocs,” he said, “you can see the coast of Florida.”
She raised the binoculars, focused and nodded. “Where are we?” she asked, lowering the glasses.
“Somewhere below Key Largo. If the wind holds, we’ll be at the dock in another two hours.”
“Two hours,” she murmured. She appeared pensive and maybe a little sad—or was that his imagination, too?—but relaxed back into the cockpit seat. Maybe he’d read her wrong. Maybe she was just down because their journey was coming to an end. That, he understood.
“Spree isn’t chartered next week,” he told her.
“That’s probably a good thing,” she said. “The cabins and the head need a thorough cleaning.”
“You never really got your kickback vacation.”
“Well, that’s certainly true,” she agreed.
Pleased that they’d finally reac
hed consensus on something, he decided it was time to put his new plan out there.
“I have an idea,” he told her.
“Yeah?” A smiled tugged at her lips. “What’s that?”
“Why not stay on board with me for the next week?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NOT CERTAIN SHE’D heard correctly, Cat stared at Javi, which was never advisable. Of course he was shirtless, his calendar-ready physique in full glorious view.
“What?”
“I mean it. We can reprovision the boat and head out again. Alone this time. Believe it or not, there are quiet anchorages in the Keys. I know of many. We can sail, anchor, get some much-needed rest.” He shot her a dazzling smile that sent her pulse racing. “Make love.”
Cat remained silent. He wanted her to stay on board Spree? She swallowed. The past two days had been supposed to demonstrate how her feelings for Javi were transient, borne out of danger. Her infatuation was supposed to evaporate in the face of reality. She’d reminded herself of that over and over.
Instead, she’d fallen even deeper in love.
She was in love with Javi, a man all wrong for her. Another week would only bring them even closer, strengthen her attachment, make it harder to say goodbye and move on.
She didn’t need another week with him. She needed time away from him to come to her senses.
“I don’t have to go back on duty for three weeks,” he continued in a reasonable tone. “Can you take another week off work? You deserve it after what you’ve been through.”
She gave the first excuse her scattered mind could think of. “But our charter time is up.”
“I’m not asking you to pay,” he said, an edge to his voice. “For God’s sake, Cat.”
“Oh,” she managed. “Sorry.”
He took a deep breath, and she averted her gaze.
“Think of it as a free extended vacation,” he said.
Free? Cat shook her head and stared in the direction of land. The price she’d have to pay later for spending a week alone with Javi was one she couldn’t afford.
“Marlin has to remain in rehab for several more weeks,” Javi said, his tone pragmatic again. “He can’t live alone on the boat for a month or so after that.”
Stranded with the Captain Page 24