Stranger in Paradise

by McIntyre, Amanda

  “I’ve got Steri-strips, will that help?” Her back to him, he watched her spread out a variety of bandages and Band-Aids across the counter. She was her own mini-hospital. His eyes drifted down to her form-fitting yoga pants that she wore incessantly with oversized T-shirts or hoodies that hid her athletic build. He shook off the wayward thoughts and gingerly touched the red mark slashed across his torso by the sharp point on the driftwood. Gritting his teeth against the fiery sting, he decided pain was good. It kept him from thinking where they’d been heading not more than a few minutes ago.

  She faced him, ointment in hand, and studied his naked torso. As if that weren’t enough for his agitated libido, she moved closer and looked up at him with soulful eyes. “That looks like it really hurts.”

  He held her gaze for longer than necessary, and then took the tube of medicine from her.

  “Do you want me to apply that? I can see a little bit better from my vantage point.”

  “It’s not--” he started to protest even as she retrieved the salve and squeezed a generous blob on her fingers.

  “This will help keep the skin moist.”

  “Yeah.” He sucked in air as her fingers gently glided over his flesh. “This isn’t my first time being hurt, you know.” He tried to steel his body against her delicate touch, trying valiantly not to think about lubricants.

  “Sorry, where else have you been hurt?” she asked, her attention focused within inches of his chest. Part of him wondered if she was doing research along with practicing those Clara Barton skills.

  Pain. He drew in another sharp breath, putting his mind back on track. “Uh…let’s see, I’ve had my shoulder dislocated twice. A scar from when I hopped over a barbed wire fence in pursuit of a perp.” He frowned, having never really catalogued his injuries before, just glad for his good insurance. “I nearly severed my finger when I attempted to stop a guy stealing a car. Then there was the time I broke my ankle in interdepartmental football….”

  “Wait,” she asked, blowing softly across the wound. “Go back to the finger story. How’d that happen? Did he have a knife?”

  He looked down at the top of her head and the sensation of her breath blowing across his flesh flashed an image of him easing her head lower, and that sparked fresh guilt about his true purpose in being there. “No, he rolled up the window and started to take off with my hand stuck in the window.”

  Kacey chuckled and offered him a passing grin. “You mind if I write this down?”

  He was glad to see that she’d gotten her humor back--what little he’d seen of it, at any rate. “Sweetheart,” he said, offering his best Bogart vice, “I’ve got scars in places you wouldn’t believe.” Keeping the mood light was a good thing. He wasn’t entirely convinced that the pesky raccoon was all that was sneaking around the cabin tonight, but he’d let her think as much.

  “Does that include your heart?” she asked, taking a step back. “There.” She wiped her hands on a towel.

  “Trying to get inside a hero’s head, lady?” he joked.

  She grinned. “Maybe.”

  “Better than my pants. I thought maybe you were taking advantage of my injured state.”

  “You wish,” she jabbed right back at him and turned to put away her triage set-up. “You need a gauze pad on that?”

  He had a helluva time trying to understand this woman. Maybe he thought they’d pick up where they’d left off, but, unlike him, she’d obviously come to her senses.

  “Uh, no. I’m sure it’ll be better by morning.”

  “I know I shouldn’t go out alone, but I really need to go stand out by the lake.” She closed the cabinet and turned to face him. “Just for a few minutes?”

  Yeah, she knew damn well the raccoon wasn’t all that they’d heard.

  “Sure, get your jacket and we’ll both go. I could use some fresh air.”

  Armed with a flashlight and pocketing his gun in his jacket, he followed her down the grassy knoll behind the cabin. The waves, leftover from the recent storm, crashed with fury against the rocky shore.

  “It’s always amazes me how it appears as though someone has lost an ocean.” Kacey zipped up her hoodie and crossed her arms over her chest as she stared out over the turbulent water. Now and again, the moon would peek through the clouds, casting long ribbons of white light upon the dark waters. The beach was deserted. Lights from other cabins dotted the bay shoreline like fireflies in the dark.

  Zack stood a few feet from her, not trusting his mixed emotions and cautioning himself that whatever happened between them was a momentary thing caused by too much wine and that old Karma Sutra magic. “It’s pretty awesome. I’ve not been to this particular lake before.”

  “You’ve been to the lakes?”

  He shrugged. “My grandfather used to take me and my brother fishing on the UP of Michigan. It was a wild trip. We had a blast.” He smiled to himself, thinking how his mother had hated the whole idea. Smelly clothes. Crap food. God-knows-what critters might crawl in their tent while they were camping…and a few did, though his mom never knew.

  “Sounds like fun,” she said. “What does your brother do?”

  He turned to find her seated on an old tree stump set around what would be a bonfire, one of many such intimate, rustic groupings dotting the rocky shore. His brother. Funny how he’d learned to tuck his memory deep inside. He picked up a few small pebbles and cast them across the water. Matt had always been better than him at skipping stones.

  “Zack?”

  He pulled himself back to the present. “Uh, yeah, well…Matt was always the daredevil kid, you know?” He looked at her and she smiled.

  “Yeah, I’m beginning to see it runs in the family.”

  He swallowed and toed the rocks, loosening a few more. He didn’t really want to go down this road. “Matt died when I was twelve. He was only nine.”

  “Oh, God, how horrible.”

  “It’s stupid, really. You know how you tell a kid not to do something and what do they do?” He glanced at her. “ The little idiot went out one morning alone on the lake after a big storm. The waters were still choppy. Gramps had told him a million times never to go out alone. He somehow capsized the kayak and, in the process, got his foot caught and couldn’t get free. We found him later that morning. We all thought he’d slept late.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Zack.”

  He shrugged. “It still pisses me off.” He felt her hand on his arm and looked down at it.

  “I can’t imagine what that must feel like. I’m so sorry. What your family must have gone through.”

  He covered her hand, patting it as he’d done a million times for others grieving over the loss of a loved one. “Mom and dad divorced eventually. She blamed his dad. I blamed Matt. I ended up with Mom. Dad became the town drunk.” He spread out his hands. “There’s my story.” He bent down and handed her a stone. “You know how to skip stones?”

  She smiled and took it from him. “I’ve had lots of practice.”

  “Yeah? How’d you wind up coming here? Did you summer here with your folks?”

  She chuckled and pivoted away from him, slicing the stone over the water’s surface. It leapt three or four times over the ripples. “I stumbled on it a few years ago when I was attending a writer’s workshop in Duluth. We took a little research trip up the lakeshore road and during a stop at Betsy’s Pies--”

  “Let me guess, bumbleberry?”

  “Yep,” she answered and picked up a handful of rocks. One by one, she leveled them across the water. “I fell in love with the area. Its colors, the isolation, the water—it all speaks to me. Then I found this place and I’ve made it my annual retreat ever since.”

  Zack hadn’t bothered with skipping any more stones; he was too busy watching and wanting Kacey Winters. It was time to turn in before he did something stupid. “Have you had enough fresh air? I don’t know about you, but I’m going to sleep really well.”

  “Liar,” she stated, brushi
ng off her hands. “You won’t sleep at all until you know who or what was lurking outside the cabin earlier.”

  Having only recently met, she knew him pretty well. That could backfire. He learned the hard way the lesson of letting people get too close. It was safer not to. “You’re probably right. That’s why I get paid the big bucks to get you safely tucked in, and then I can bunk out in my chair and keep an eye on things.”

  “Big bucks, huh? I’ll have to speak to Harry about that.” They walked through the short, wooded trail leading to the cabin. “By the way,” she said, touching his arm, “you don’t need to sleep in the chair tonight.”

  His body went on full alert.

  Her hand dropped away as she realized what she’d implied. “I meant there are plenty of bedrooms to choose from.”

  He grinned. “Down the opposite way of your bedroom, you mean.”

  She took a deep breath, preparing to launch into some explanation, and he stopped her by taking her arm and bringing her around to face him. “No explanations necessary, Kacey. I’m here to do a job. And you’re here to do yours. We both want you to feel safe.”

  “I-I do feel safe with you.” She met his gaze in the dim light of the cabin lights they’d left on.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure you should consider me that noble.”

  She held his eyes a moment longer, then started out ahead of him without a response.

  He unlocked the front door and had her wait in the foyer while he did a quick check of the cabin. Comfortable the house was safe, he came to the bottom of the stairs. “All clear, madam author.”

  She appeared from the hallway, her hoodie draped over one arm and her hair, once banded in a ponytail, now loose. He fought the urge to thread his fingers through it and kiss the tired look shadowing her eyes. “It’s been a crazy night, huh?” he asked.

  She nodded with a weak smile as she passed him and started up the steps. “Thank you.” She turned to face him, eye-to-eye. “Sorry about the whole driftwood thing.”

  “It’s okay…it’s…aw, shit.” He said quietly as he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, not knowing why or even if she’d respond. God help him. She did.

  Her hands clutched his shirt as she slanted her mouth over his, giving as much as she took. Zack pulled away before he hauled her over his shoulder and up the stairs to—hell, whichever bedroom came first.

  She released his shirt. “Goodnight,” she said and hurried up the steps.

  Zack ran his hands down his face, hoping to awaken himself from the unexplainable pull he had toward her. It wasn’t due to a lack of women in his life. He was a good-looking guy, amazing in bed, if rumors were true. Mostly out of loneliness, there’d been one or two one-night stands since Jessie. Kacey, however, wasn’t the one-night stand type. Tapping the railing with his fingers, he eyed the stairs, considering the possibilities if he followed through. With an ache in his chest and places lower, he released a deep sigh and decided to make one last check around the parameter of the cabin. “I’m going to take one more look around the house, but I’ll lock the door and be right outside, ok?” he called up the steps.

  “Do you need me to come with you?” she responded from her room.

  Zack raised his brows. “That thought is going to linger,” he muttered. “No, go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “’Night, Zack.”

  He gently hit the top of the stairwell post with his fist. “Yeah, g’night.”

  Chapter Six

  The shower didn’t help. And Kacey realized with a dismal thought, that she hadn’t bothered to purchase new batteries for her “vibrating companion” in months. After the nasty break-up with her ex, she hadn’t even wanted to look at another man, much less jump his bones. Which had made it even more of a challenge to write sexy, when she couldn’t remember what sexy felt like.

  Which is why you rely on me, your muse, to keep those sultry thoughts brewing, right?

  Kacey laughed at her muse’s interruption of her thoughts. She toweled dry and slipped into her standard bedtime fare of T-shirt and cotton boxers. She had no need of sexy attire on her writing sabbaticals--then again, she’d never before had reason, not that Zack was a good reason. Still, that kiss had made its mark on her loneliness, along with a smile that could melt bone, and a body made for sin. She glanced at herself in the mirror and chuckled. “Some famous erotic romance author you are.” She bit her lip and wondered if he’d returned yet from his appointed round. Swallowing, she fought her curiosity about whether or not he’d taken up her offer of using one of the bedrooms or was still bunking out downstairs. Her bet was on the latter. She carefully opened her door and peeked into the shadowy hall, tiptoeing to the top of the stairs. “Zack?” she quietly called downstairs. “Zack?”

  Startled, she turned when she heard a door open from the end of the hall. Zack stepped out and, seeing her, hurried toward her, zipping up the fly on his jeans. “Are you okay? Did you hear something?” He strode toward her, took her by the arm, and moved her away from the steps.

  “No, I didn’t hear anything. I was just curious…I mean, I didn’t know if you were sleeping down there or if you’d decided to--”

  “Sleep in a real bed?” he finished. His fingers relaxed on her upper arms. He took a step toward her. She took a step back, bumping into the wall. It was cool to her heated flesh. She looked up at him and need took over where reason fled. He held her face, capturing her lips. His hot breath scorched her skin as he nuzzled the curve of her neck. His lips came down on hers, igniting her blood with fiery kisses as he slowly tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Caressing, teasing, his mouth followed his hands, creating an ache deep inside her.

  Seduction gave way to hunger. Raw and unapologetic, his mouth covered hers, demanding. Ravenous. Unrelenting. She’d never known a man like him. Her body reacted as though on a dark and dangerous thrill ride.

  He turned her toward the wall and pulled her against his hard body. Her breath caught as his hand stole beneath her waistband and slid between her thighs. She pressed her palms against the wall, grinding into him, delirious with need, suspecting he was commando beneath that denim.

  “I want you,” he whispered, his teeth nipping her ear, the insistence of his fingers liquefying her bones.

  “Yes.” She turned her face to his, his mouth melting on hers. A small cry escaped her throat when she came, and he sighed against her mouth. She faced him fully then and he licked his fingers. Heat blazed in his dark gaze.

  “This isn’t going to be slow.”

  She cupped his face, kissing him again, savoring the taste. “I know.”

  “Protection,” Zack growled between his assaults on her mouth.

  “It’s covered.” Her hands wrestled with his zipper, pleased to discover her suspicions correct.

  His gaze hot on hers, he jerked her boxers down, stepped from his jeans, and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Your bed or mine?”

  Kacey wasn’t sure she’d make it to either room. “Mine.”

  He carried her the short way to her room, his hungry kisses matching hers. Dropping her on the bed, he covered her body and claimed her again with his mouth. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, leaning his forehead to hers.

  His hands slid down her thighs. Nodding, she accepted him, holding his dark eyes as shock gave way to euphoria, liquefying her bones. She locked her ankles around him, surrendering to the sublime explosions that rocked her body. His eyes held hers, driving deeper with each thrust, leaving her breathless, until her body shattered again with sublime bliss.

  “Aw, sweetheart, Kacey,” he hissed between clenched teeth as he followed with his own release.

  For a moment, neither was able to move, much less breathe.

  “Krikey,” she whispered.

  Amen to that, Sistah, her muse concurred.

  Struggling to catch his breath, he chuckled and met her gaze. A sexy smile curled his mouth. He shook
his head and rested his forehead to hers. “I hope that you’ll still respect me in the morning.”

  She laughed and hugged his neck. “If you promise me next time to slow down a bit.”

  His smile vanished, but his smoldering gaze lingered. “Deal.”

  Time, deadlines, stalkers—none of them mattered in the hours that followed. Much later, she watched him sleep, amazed by him, teetering on the dangerous precipice of falling in love. The gentle rain had started sometime during the night, leaving the room bathed in a shadowy dawn. She’d wondered if she’d awaken alone or find him there still. Yet here he was, even asleep able to stir wondrous emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. Her body, though sore, felt remarkably recharged. Her muse…well, her muse was still reveling in the out-of-body experiences of the past few hours. Be careful, Kacey. This kind of thing doesn’t last forever.

  “So… what do you think, only adequate?”

  She sat up, drawing the sheet over her body to cover her nakedness. In the throes of passion, it didn’t seem to matter much. The daylight and her lovesick thoughts about him had created a “what happens at the cabin, stays at the cabin” awkwardness, causing her to feel vulnerable, unsure.

  He curled a finger over the sheet and pulled it down to her waist.

  “You’re not a private guy, are you?”

  He studied her a moment before propping up on his elbow. “Aren’t we a little past the being shy phase? If memory serves, I’ve sampled just about every inch of you—inside and out.”

  Round two? Her muse clapped gleefully. Wait, what round is this?

  Kacey actually felt the heat climb in her cheeks. The man was right, and lord in heaven, he’d been good—no, exceptional--at what he did. “Hey, I know this is going to sound strange to you, but just because I write erotic romance doesn’t mean I’m all that confident…you know, in bed.”

  He snaked his muscular arm around her waist and drew her down beside him. “You are incredible.” He kissed the tip of her nose.