Under the Surface

by Kira Sinclair

  It was bad enough Jackson knew she couldn’t swim. She really didn’t need any of her crew finding out. She was already the outsider, with little knowledge about how a diving ship operated.

  Loralei pulled her lower lip into her mouth and worried it with her teeth as indecision twisted through her gut. She hated not knowing what to do.

  Using his thumb, Jackson eased her lip away from the self-inflicted torture.

  “You’re safe here, Loralei. I promise you.”

  Maybe she was safe from him. Her mouth was tingling where he’d touched her. Waves of sensation radiated from the single, innocuous spot.

  But who was going to protect her from herself?

  * * *

  HE REALLY HAD to get some clothes on the woman. He’d never noticed that his towel was particularly small, but the knot she’d twisted it into between her breasts was unraveling centimeter by centimeter, giving him a bigger glimpse of her smooth, tanned skin.

  Her black hair curled damply around her shoulders in a riot of tangles that made him want to bury his hands in it and use it to pull her face closer so he could taste her lips again.

  What the hell?

  He seriously needed to get a grip.

  Turning away, he snatched up the shorts and shirt he’d tossed onto the bed for her. He whipped back around and collided with her.

  Her hands landed on his chest. Her body crashed against him. Pressed tight between them, he felt the towel’s knot finally give way. Just as his control was doing. In a desperate attempt to save them both, Jackson grabbed for the towel as it slid down her back. The instinctive move backfired. Big time.

  His fingers brushed across her naked skin. She gasped and arched into him. The soft curve of her breasts flattened against the hard plane of his body even as the towel was caught between them.

  God, he wanted more.

  They both stilled, locked in the precarious position and certain one wrong move could bring disaster crashing down on them both.

  Unfortunately, Jackson wasn’t sure which would be the disaster: letting her go or not letting her go. The waters definitely had been muddied.

  Slowly, Loralei tipped her head back and dragged her gaze up to meet his.

  Damn, her eyes were deep. Deep enough he could dive inside and get lost. And the way she was staring at him made his stomach knot and his cock throb.

  She licked her lips, parted them as if she was going to say something, but nothing came out. She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling against the edge of the towel that flirted with the sharp peaks of her nipples.

  Jackson had to close his eyes at the sensation of her body moving against his. He was only human.

  “Loralei,” he murmured, keeping his eyes shut tight. “Step back. Now.”

  If he was strong enough, he’d be the one to turn away. But he had only a slippery hold on his control right now, and if he moved Jackson was seriously afraid it would be in the wrong direction. This was his last-ditch effort at doing the right thing, because in about five seconds he wasn’t going to be able to curb his response to her anymore.

  But she didn’t move.

  “Seriously,” he growled.

  Every muscle in his body was tight with the effort to hold himself in check. He felt...brittle. On the edge of exploding.

  And he wasn’t particularly enamored with the sensation.

  Jackson prided himself on his self-control. He’d fought hard for the ability to withstand the harshest conditions without cracking.

  But sixty seconds with this woman pressed tight against him and every hard-won victory had disappeared like so much smoke.

  “What if I don’t want to move?” she finally whispered.

  Jackson groaned. His eyes popped open as his fingers, which were pressed against her back, flexed in preparation for digging in and taking more.

  He stared at her, searching her expression for some sign that she meant what she’d just said.

  Rising onto the tips of her toes, she wrapped her hands around his neck and urged him toward her. Just before her lips touched his she whispered, “Remind me that I’m alive.”

  The minute their mouths collided it was over. He’d have to worry about the aftermath later, because he was too preoccupied to give a damn about anything but the taste and feel of her.

  His hands slipped into her hair, angled her head so he could have better access to her hot mouth.

  The moment was complete combustion. Their tongues tangled. She bounced on her toes, as if trying to get more of him. Without breaking their connection, Jackson wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her higher.

  They both forgot about the towel. It snagged, hanging between them unnoticed. Jackson ran his palms across the slope of her back. Her skin was still damp from her shower. So smooth and soft. He could spend hours just touching her.

  Even as his mouth devoured hers, his hands studied and learned. The way her body arched into his touch when he skimmed the sensitive dip right above her rear. Or the tiny catch in her breath that he drank in as he caressed between her shoulder blades.

  He wanted to take a step back and appreciate the view, but she wouldn’t let him. Her hands were everywhere. Her rush to consume him only managed to fuel his own raging need.

  Loralei broke the kiss, but only long enough to run her mouth over the skin of his neck, taking teasing licks before sucking gently. The tug of her lips arrowed straight down to where his cock leaped against the fly of the jeans he’d thrown on.

  Why had he bothered? He couldn’t remember anymore.

  Twisting, he pressed her up against the first available surface, which just happened to be the edge of the dresser. Reaching blindly behind her, Loralei managed to swipe her hand over the top, clearing the few random things that were scattered there. They pinged against the floor, but he didn’t care. They weren’t important anyway.

  Jackson pulled back, relishing her broken little pants as she tried to catch her breath. The towel was draped across her body, tucked between her legs. In the mirror behind her, he could see the hard swell of her ass. Her skin glowed.

  She watched him out of eyes glazed with desire. He wanted that, liked knowing he could make her feel that way. “Jackson, please.”

  But her fractured words also had a spike of ice arrowing straight through him. What had she said?

  Remind me I’m alive.

  He wanted to do just that. Remind them both. But he shouldn’t. Taking a step away from her, Jackson tried to regain his sanity. Make his brain re-engage.

  “What are you doing?”

  He shook his head, hating the way her eyes slowly refocused on the here and now instead of the pleasure he’d been giving her moments ago.

  “You...” Jackson balled his hands into fists. “This isn’t what you need right now.”

  Loralei’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Don’t I dare what?”

  Reaching out, Loralei balled her fists into his T-shirt, using the leverage to haul him closer.

  “Walk away from me again tonight.”

  Every pulse point in his body throbbed. Jackson stared down at her upturned face, trying desperately not to notice her half-naked body before him.

  Gently, he reached up and unwrapped her fingers, one by one, from his shirt.

  Placing her hand on the dresser beside her hip, he wrapped her fingers over the edge, holding her hand in place...and away from him.

  “Goddamn you,” she breathed.

  Her eyes sparked and beneath that smooth caramel color her skin flushed red.

  Before he could react, her other hand flashed out, cupping his obvious reaction to what they’d just been doing.

  “You want this as much as I do.”

  Of course he wanted her. She was beautiful. Just as he was certain the apple offered by the serpent in the Garden of Eden had been beautiful. “Yeah, I want you.”

  “Then why are you backing away?”

  “Because
it’s the right thing to do.”

  She laughed, the brittle sound ripping through his chest.

  Planting her hands on him, Loralei pushed. Jackson took several steps backward, for her and himself. She hopped down and he tried damn hard not to notice the way her lithe muscles rippled with the movement.

  Using her arms to hold the towel tight against her, Loralei reached for the edge and wrapped it back around her body, studiously ignoring him the entire time. She stalked over to the bed and snatched up the clothes before she disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Jackson waited, hands clasped behind his neck. It wasn’t long before she barreled back out. Her hair hung like wet ropes down her back. Damp patches were already spreading across the shoulders of his T-shirt, which was so big on her the neck hung off one shoulder and the hem flared around her thighs. He knew she was wearing a pair of his shorts underneath, but he couldn’t see them.

  Something about seeing her all rumpled and angry in his clothes made his chest tighten and his blood pump just a bit faster.

  Without a word, she turned for the door. It wasn’t necessary to tell him what she intended. It was written all over her face. Luckily, he was faster. His palm slammed against the flat panel of the door before she managed to get it open an inch.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to my hotel,” she bit out through clenched teeth, still refusing to look at him.

  “I already told you that wasn’t happening, princess.”

  “So, what? You’re going to keep me prisoner? Pretty sure that’s called kidnapping, ace.”

  Crowding into her personal space, Jackson loomed over her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. She instinctively moved away from him, pressing her body into the door.

  “A few minutes ago you were begging to stay.”

  She shrugged. “Not anymore.”

  5

  JACKSON LEANED A shoulder against the door and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “You’ve got two choices, princess. One, you stay here where I can keep an eye on you.”

  Her mouth thinned and her eyes flashed. Was it wrong that he liked it when she was angry?

  “Or...?”

  “Or I take you to the nearest hospital where they keep you under observation.”

  “Option two.”

  Shrugging, Jackson said, “Suit yourself.”

  Reaching behind him, he picked up his wallet, which had been swept to the floor in their earlier frenzy. Stuffing it into his pocket, he kicked around a few things until he found the keys to the rental parked in the marina lot.

  Putting his hand on her back, Jackson tried to lead her out of the room, but she jerked away from him.

  “Don’t.”

  A few minutes ago she hadn’t been able to get enough of his hands on her body, but he didn’t think now was the time to point that out. Not unless he wanted to be occupying the bed next to her in the ER nursing a broken nose.

  As she stalked down the hall in front of him, he found it difficult not to notice the sway of her hips or the way his clothes hung on her lithe body.

  She probably wouldn’t appreciate him commenting on that, either. Now if Asher had been with them, he would have been spouting inappropriate remarks left and right. And getting away with it by doing it in a way that had everyone around them—Loralei included—laughing. The man had a talent for putting people at ease that Jackson had always envied.

  They reached the deck. Her stride faltered. Her body just...froze. Thinking back on the events of the night, Jackson realized that must have been what had happened when he’d found her crouched and clinging to the railing, her gaze trained on the water.

  She wasn’t just afraid of the water. She was terrified.

  Scooping her into his arms, Jackson tucked her against his body.

  “You still choose option two?”

  Nodding, Loralei whispered, “Get me off this ship. Please.”

  The tremble in her voice was real. Something about it kicked his protective instincts into overdrive.

  Women and children in need—they always got to him. It wasn’t that he thought Loralei was incapable of taking care of herself. The sticky drink residue he’d had to wash off earlier was proof she could hold her own.

  But right now she looked a hell of a lot more vulnerable than made him comfortable.

  It didn’t take them long to reach the ER. The moment he’d settled her into the passenger seat of the Jeep he’d rented, her body had begun to relax. Maybe it was because they weren’t on the water any longer.

  Still, he’d been relieved when she’d dropped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Her chest had risen and fallen with steady breaths. For a few minutes he’d wondered if maybe she’d fallen asleep, but that question was answered when they pulled into the parking lot.

  He no sooner parked than she was bolting from the car...and walking in the opposite direction of the front door.

  Bounding out, Jackson snagged her arm and swung her back the other way. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to my hotel.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. You agreed to be checked out.”

  She glared up at him, her green eyes flashing with a fire that rekindled the heat in his blood. “I changed my mind. This is stupid, Jackson. I’m fine.”

  “Here’s the thing, princess,” he drawled. “I’m not opposed to making a scene in this parking lot.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze fairly taunting him, and said, “Go ahead.”

  The blood at the base of his skull began to throb with irritation and a thin thread of excitement he didn’t really want to admit feeling.

  Slowly, he let a dangerous grin touch his lips. “If that’s the way you want to do this...”

  Grasping her behind the knees and shoulders, Jackson cradled her against his body and sprinted for the doors of the ER. They swished open with a muted hiss. Before they were half open, he was already hollering at the top of his lungs.

  “Someone help me! My wife nearly drowned.”

  Loralei struggled in his arms, but he simply tightened his hold, careful not to actually hurt her. That wasn’t easy considering she was putting everything she had into getting free.

  “Jackson, stop it,” she hissed.

  Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “I offered you the easy way, princess.”

  Several people dressed in scrubs—nurses he guessed—came running.

  “What’s wrong?” the one in the lead asked.

  “He’s overreacting,” Loralei tried to say, but her voice got lost in the din.

  “My wife fell off our ship in the harbor. She might have hit her head.”

  Loralei gasped. “I didn’t hit my head and you know it.”

  Someone rolled up a gurney. Jackson transferred her onto it, making sure to keep a hand on her even as a couple nurses crowded around her.

  “She was unconscious when I reached her. I pulled her out and did mouth-to-mouth.” He ran his hand down her still damp hair, tangling his fingers in the strands in a possessive and familiar gesture. “She coughed up a lot of water,” he said, letting his eyes fill with concern.

  It wasn’t completely a lie. He had been concerned. Was still worried about the potential for complications.

  “I’m fine,” Loralei protested, trying to push herself up and off the gurney.

  “Please lie still, Mrs...”

  “Miss. Lancaster. And this man isn’t my husband.”

  Jackson let his eyebrows beetle, shaking his head as he turned to one of the nurses. “Could the disorientation be from hitting her head?”

  As they wheeled her away, Jackson could hear Loralei’s squeal of frustration.

  A nurse took his arm and led him behind them. “We’ll take good care of your wife, sir. I have a few forms for you to complete...”

  * * *

  LORALEI WAS GOING to kill him.

  “Your husband
is adorable,” one of the nurses said, fussing around her as they placed a cuff on her arm and a little doohickey on her finger.

  “He isn’t my husband.”

  “Too bad. He’s scrumptious.”

  She could think of a few choice words to describe Jackson Duchane right now and scrumptious wasn’t anywhere close to the top one hundred. But before she could snap back a comment, a doctor bustled into the tiny room. He had gorgeous dark skin and a no-nonsense attitude as he scanned her chart and began an exam.

  After listening to her lungs, he turned to the nurse and said, “Let’s get a chest X-ray and run a CBC.” Turning to her, he said, “I’m going to want to keep you overnight for observation.”

  That’s when Loralei started pulling at all the lines connecting her to the machines in the room.

  “No.”

  “No?” the doctor said, his expression saying he didn’t understand the simple word.

  “No. No X-rays, blood work or staying overnight. I feel absolutely fine. My...friend is being paranoid.”

  “No, he isn’t, ma’am. There’s a very real possibility for you to experience complications.”

  Everyone in the room was staring at her as if she’d gone completely crazy. Maybe she really had. This had turned into the day from hell and she didn’t think she could handle one more minute of sitting in this hospital bed wearing the paper-thin gown they’d given her.

  “I promise I’m fine,” she said for what felt like the thousandth time. Why would no one listen to her?

  “I was only under for a few seconds. I’m breathing okay, no pain or pressure.” Loralei just wanted this nightmare to end. It was bad enough that Jackson had witnessed her panic and paralyzing fear.

  Couldn’t everyone just forget the whole damn thing had happened?

  The doctor’s mouth thinned. “If you’re insistent on leaving you’ll have to sign a form that you’re doing it against medical advice.”

  “Fine.” She’d sign whatever they wanted. It was damn late. Probably closing in on two in the morning and she was exhausted.

  Shaking his head, the doctor spun on his heel, charging straight for the next emergency that waited for him. The rest of the staff cleared out leaving her blessedly alone for what felt like the first time in hours.