The Reef Roamer (The Roamer Series Book 1)

by Deborah D. Moore

  Mark stood, holding his hand out to Jayme. She slid her delicate hand into his strong one, a grin tugging at the corners of her sensuous mouth.

  As they moved to the slow, melodic beat, Mark pulled Jayme close to him, pushing and pulling subtly with either his hand on her back or the one he held, expertly leading her movements to match his. Her years of dance training allowed her to match each and every move, gliding as though they were of one mind, one body. Song after song, they moved with the tempo, feeling the exotic music, aware of only each other, delighting in each other’s responsiveness.

  “I’m impressed, Dr. Steele. Have you been taking lessons from Adam?” Jayme teased.

  “Guilty,” he replied.

  When the band picked up the beat, Jayme was relieved that her steps would put her at a distance from Mark. She was feeling heady, almost drunk with sensations of arousal. His nearness was overpowering her. Yet as she moved away, a yearning to be closer came crashing down on her. She felt alive for the first time in years, and a contented grin stole its way across her face. The band had slipped into a slow and recognizable lambda. The sexy music was too much for Jayme to resist. She moved sensuously against Mark, then away, smiling at his reaction. Again she moved in, hands on her hips, being careful of her injured arm, and dipped to one side, brushing her long hair across Mark’s shoulder. His eyes lit up with delight and hunger.

  God, she’s sexy, he thought and reached out to take her hand. Jayme caught it easily, allowing Mark to take her into a spin. Now gripping his hand tighter, a signal for Mark to hold on, Jayme leaned back, rising on one foot, her right arm held straight by Mark. Taking a step forward, she arched her back and pivoted, twirling her silk skirts alluringly against her slim legs. The move had its effect, and she slid into the crook of Mark’s waiting arm. He took his cue as she loosened her hold on his hand, and he slid his other arm around her waist, forming a circle. Jayme beamed and leaned all the way back, her long hair nearly sweeping the floor, and Mark spun her in a half circle. As Mark began to ever so slowly bring her upright, he leaned forward, searching and found her eyes were dark pools of green desire. He brought his mouth down on hers, gently at first. He didn’t want to rush. His tongue gently teased the edges of her mouth. Prodding and probing, coaxing her lips apart, and when she succumbed, his tongue moved deeply into her mouth, tasting the honeyed recesses there. He withdrew when he felt her take in a startled breath, then he claimed her lips again, more demanding than before.

  Jayme kissed him back with the same searching, tentative passion. Passion that was building into a raging fire. Warmth spread throughout Jayme’s body. She brought her hands up to his forearms, feeling the easy tension in the muscles as he held her. Exploring, her sensitive fingers felt the energy, the heat, as they continued their journey, ending when they met behind Mark’s neck. She pulled herself up closer to him, oblivious of the strain in her left arm from the recent injury. Mark moaned and deepened his kiss even more, forgetting where they were.

  Moments passed. Mark and Jayme didn’t hear the music come to an end. When applause and whooping yells broke out in the audience, they parted, startled by the comments. “Way to go, Doc!” and “Somebody get of bucket of cold water for those two!”

  Jayme pulled back, afraid of the sensations being aroused in her. “I think I need some air.”

  Mark led her off the dance floor to the open French doors, out into the warm, steamy evening. As soon as Jayme turned to him again, he pulled her back into his arms, claiming her mouth once more, not gentle this time, but frantic, pleading, taking what he wanted and needed. After a moment’s hesitation, Jayme met his passion, and a low throaty moan escaped from the doctor. His hands moved up and down her bare back, exploring the wonderful silken realm that was now his. He wanted to feel, to taste, to know every inch of her. The approaching moonlight caressed her face, shadowing her features, emphasizing the fine cut of her cheekbones, the gentle slope of her nose, the sculpted eyebrows, and the smooth outline of her lips. He breathed in her perfume, a light, spicy floral scent. It would forever remind him of this moment.

  The moment he fell in love.

  Jayme’s head felt clouded with new sensations, yet it was remarkably clear. Mark’s touch turned to liquid heat, leaving searing trails down her back, her arms; everywhere he touched her, her skin ignited in passionate flames. She felt dangerously close to losing control. The turbulence going on inside of her was thrilling, yet agonizing. Needs and desires long dormant were now fully awake and alive and raging to be set free. The fierceness of her emotions finally caused her to pull back. Jayme searched Mark’s face for a clue as to what he may be feeling. His gray eyes were dark and clouded with desire. Jayme was frightened. Would she be able to stem the flow of his passion? Did she want to? No, she didn’t want to, but she had to.

  She moved away from him, putting some much needed distance between them.

  “I’m sorry, Mark. I think things got a bit out of hand…” Her voice was ragged and breathy.

  He leaned against the weathered railing surrounding the deck that overlooked the water. “Perhaps they did, but I’m not complaining. Are you?” he asked after he regained his composure.

  “Complaining? No, though all that took me by surprise, and I’m feeling the need to cool it down some.” She too leaned against the rail, a few feet from him. It felt so far.

  “I see.”

  “Do you?” she asked. “We are moving awfully fast.”

  “We are adults,” Mark reminded her with a tender smile.

  “True, but we hardly know each other.”

  “Okay, what more do you want to know about me?”

  Jayme thought for a moment. “Inside, they called you the stone doctor. What did they mean by that?”

  He hesitated briefly. “When I first moved here, I was married and naturally brought my wife with me. At first she enjoyed the island life, and then she got bored when she realized it wasn’t as exotic as she thought it would be. I suggested we start a family. She wanted no part of that; in fact, the thought of being pregnant horrified her. Then her boredom led to a series of affairs, each one with a progressively younger man.” Mark took a breath and faced the dark water. “I shut my emotions down and ignored what she was doing. Even after she left and we divorced, I held onto my stony demeanor, not getting involved with anyone or anything except my work. Hence the stone doctor.”

  Jayme processed that information, appreciating that he told her something so obviously painful.

  “You’re an excellent dancer, doctor,” she said with a grin.

  Mark couldn’t resist any longer. He moved in front of her and cupped her face with his hands, kissing her deeply.

  “I think we should leave.” Jayme didn’t recognize her own voice; it came out ragged and breathy through kiss-bruised lips. She felt herself blush, thankful for the dusk-induced shadows to hide in.

  Mark’s eyes glistened with pleasure as he smiled down at her. “Wait here. I’ll get your camera and purse. No need for you to put up with whatever my friends might say.”

  Mark was soon at her side again, guiding her across the slick docks where his boat waited.

  ***

  Jayme stood behind the windshield, protecting her dress from the salt spray. The cooler night air helped to clear her thoughts. What was she doing? Acting like a teenager in heat, that’s what! It felt wrong, yet so right. How could that be? This was the first romantic involvement she’d had at all since Donald died. Why was she doing this? She didn’t know why, but she knew she couldn’t, didn’t want to stop. They hadn’t done anything more than kiss. She knew she wanted more, much more, however, not yet, not now, not tonight. Jayme felt trapped. She wanted to pace, to work off the nervous energy building inside, but the deck of the boat was slippery and pitching in the waves. Jayme shifted from foot to foot until Mark pulled alongside the slip at the Holm Cay marina.

  She jumped out of the boat and began pacing the dock, her stride long and graceful, and
looked strangely out of place. Mark wouldn’t try to force her, would he? No, he wasn’t the type. However, he was highly aroused, of that she was sure, and she had led, not followed him through a maze of erotic sensations. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts she didn’t see him climb onto the dock.

  Mark had noticed a change in Jayme on the boat ride over. She seemed distant, edgy, and afraid. Perhaps she’d changed her mind or just wasn’t ready. As much as he wanted her, ached to make love to her, he knew he’d leave if she wanted him to go. He reached out to take her hand, to stop her pacing.

  The moment Mark’s fingers encircled her wrist, Jayme’s training took over her reactions. An outside flick of the wrist broke his hold. The momentum of the movement brought her hand up to now grip his; a step backward put her in position to deal a disabling kick to his ribs. Her foot had barely left the boards when Jayme’s mind kicked in and she realized what she’d nearly done. Stunned, she looked at Mark, and sorrow took over. She let go of his wrist.

  “Oh, Mark. I didn’t mean…I’m so sorry…I…I…” Jayme stammered, tears threatening behind her lids.

  Mark didn’t move, didn’t say a word. After what felt like an eternity to Jayme, he reached for her hand again. This time she didn’t resist. He opened the clenched fist, one finger at a time, kissing each finger as he went. He then kissed the sensitive palm and closed her hand again.

  “I would never hurt you, Jayme. Never. And I would never try to take what you don’t want to give.” Mark stared at her, long and hard. It was a look full of frustration, hurt…and love. With a profound change, he smiled and jumped down into the boat.

  “I’ll see you about noon for our trip to Hope Town. You’ll love the lighthouse!”

  Leaving her with no opportunity to protest, he sped away over the waves into the night.

  ***

  Jayme lay staring at the ceiling well into the night, tears flowing freely down the sides of her smooth face, soaking the pillow.

  “Oh, Donald,” she sobbed, “let me go. I will always love you, but you’re gone, and I’m still here! I want to live again. Love again! Please, please let me go.”

  She turned into the wet pillow to muffle the sobs that now racked her whole body.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jayme awoke late, her head fuzzy from the restless few hours of sleep, her eyes red and puffy from hours of crying.

  I should feel awful, she thought as she stood under the shower and let the water sluice over her body and thought it odd that she didn’t. Using generous amounts of soap, Jayme lathered herself, working up soothing mounds of foam. As the warm water rinsed the suds away, Jayme felt her tension rinse away as well. She applied perfumed shampoo to her hair, working it all the way to the long ends. Each time the water took away the froth she’d created, Jayme felt lighter. Now sensing the washing as an interesting method of therapy, she applied a thick conditioner to her auburn waves and piled it atop her head to let it work, securing it with a plastic clip, and lathered herself all over again. By the time she was ready to rinse the conditioner out of her hair, Jayme’s attitude had changed tremendously.

  Toweling off, she looked at herself in the foggy mirror. Leaning forward, she wiped the steam away with a dry washcloth, taking in her own reflection. She stepped back and looked at her naked body. Her breasts were full but not overly large; her legs were long and firm, athletic; she had a narrow waist, accented by the slim lines that formed the contours of a figure unmarked by a difficult birthing. And that figure was striking, exceptionally so for her age. Jayme knew men found her attractive, and now only one man’s thoughts mattered to her. Would he still want her after what she did last night? She felt a sorrow-filled embarrassment over her defensive reaction.

  Jayme studied her face. Only a few wrinkles, not bad for forty-three years old, she thought as she dotted her face with a thick aloe moisturizer and blended it smooth.

  Dressed in a loose top and a pair of comfortable shorts, Jayme sat outside to brush her hair dry. While it was still slightly damp, she swept it up into a loose knot and pinned it securely to the top of her head. The style was becoming, yet practical. It was cooling to have the thick hair off her neck.

  It was almost eleven o’clock. Mark would be arriving in an hour. Jayme found she was not at all nervous as she had been yesterday. Her calmness was comforting. Although she did feel in control of herself once again, she felt strangely light and…free. She sighed, then headed for the hotel lobby to see if the message she was expecting had come yet.

  ***

  “Hi, John. I’m expecting a fax from the States. Has it come yet?” Jayme leaned her elbows on the counter in the same manner she’d seen the employees do.

  “As a matter of fact, Ms. Haller, you do have a message.” John, a tall blond from Australia, reached toward a pigeon-holed styled backboard. “‘Ere ya go.” When he handed it over, Jayme noticed it was on hotel stationery. “Thanks.”

  The envelope Jayme held was not the one she’d been waiting for, the one from her son Alan saying whether or not he’d been able to pull a few days leave and would join her. Jayme flipped the letter over in her hands. The envelope was securely sealed as though the sender wanted to be sure it wouldn’t accidentally come open. Opening it, Jayme saw it was a note from Marge Thomas.

  Jayme,

  Thank you so much for the video! We borrowed a DVD player from the management and viewed it last night. I’ll treasure it always. I always felt you were special; now I know you are. When I saw myself underwater, a line from my favorite musical kept coming to mind: “If they could see me now, that old gang of mine.”

  Thanks to you, they will!

  I noticed the other night that there is something special between you and the young doctor, so you’re going to get a piece of advice from an old and dying woman whether you want it or not: Don’t waste today on yesterday, or there will never be enough tomorrows. Even though they are few now for me, I have enough tomorrows. Make all of yours count.

  See you in Aruba!

  Affectionately, Marge

  At first Jayme was stunned, realizing the Thomas’ knew her identity before they left the island, but she was also sure they hadn’t said a word to anyone. Marge didn’t even mention The Reef Roamer in the note, surely as protection that it might be read by someone else. A warm glow blossomed in Jayme as she thought about Marge’s advice. Don’t waste today on yesterday. It was good advice. It made her think of her sister reminding her Donald was dead and that she wasn’t. Pieces began to fall into place. Jayme had felt free earlier; now she felt positively released, buoyant. She went back to her room to ready her equipment for the afternoon tour with Mark, feeling this would be a special day. Very special indeed. Was she about to look her destiny in the face, that destiny Miguel spoke of?

  ***

  Dr. Steele finished with his last patient, wondering what the rest of the day would bring. Surely if Jayme didn’t want to see him again, she would have sent word, making up some lame excuse to cancel their afternoon. No such message had arrived. Locking the doors behind Naomi, Mark recalled the look in Jayme’s eyes last night. Sorrow. Shame. She hadn’t meant to…to what? Defend herself against a gesture she was trained to perceive as a threat? He couldn’t hold that against her. Conditioned reflex, that’s all it was. She’d been preoccupied and nervous. Hell, he had been preoccupied and nervous. Closing his eyes, Mark could still feel her in his arms, smell her perfume, and taste her lips. He wanted her and knew she wanted him too, yet she was afraid of something. He’d always been a patient man, and he knew he could wait, forever if need be, to have the one he loved. Mark would wait until Jayme came to him, because she was the kind of person who didn’t do things halfway, and she wouldn’t come to him until she loved him as he loved her. All he had to do was convince her of his love. Was it that simple?

  ***

  Jayme was still wearing the cocoa-colored shorts and the oversized tangerine top she’d put on earlier, but she’d belted the top
with her fanny-pack purse and attached the camera strap. The sandals securely strapped to her feet were cool and comfortable, ideal for a day of walking. She found an empty table with a full view of the docks so she could see Mark approach.

  Sitting in the shade of the table umbrella, her arm resting across her lap, Jayme saw Daniel approach.

  “Hi, Jayme. How’s your arm feeling?” Daniel seemed concerned yet cheerful.

  “It’s still pretty sore, though I try not to think about it. I wish I could say ‘all in a day’s work;’ however, I have to admit I’ve never had anything like this happen before,” Jayme said lightly, trying to ease any guilt he might have. “By the way, did you ever find out who snagged me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I was on my way to your room when I saw you out here. You’re not going to believe this, but it was Marstead.”

  “Bruce?” Jayme leaned back in her chair, amazed at the irony of it all.

  “Oh, hi, Doc,” Daniel acknowledged Mark, who was approaching. Jayme looked up at Mark and seeing the doubt as his eyes met hers smiled to ease him. “I was just telling Jayme we found out who hooked her the other day,” Daniel continued. “Well, anyway, John, our fishing guide, was taking Marstead out for the day, and—”

  “Bruce Marstead?” Mark cut in angrily.

  “Yeah, you know him too? So this Marstead thought he’d get some casting practice in while they were looking for a spot to fish. As soon as John saw the line in the water, he came down hard on him. Read him the proverbial riot act. They didn’t know what had happened until I started asking around later. I found Bruce and told him Jayme would be within her rights to press charges. I think he checked out early. He said something about a bum wrist.”

  Daniel stared when Jayme and Mark looked at each other and burst out laughing.