Lust on the Rocks

by Dianne Venetta

  Not again.

  He looked behind him, next to him—anywhere. Where the hell was she? Need for air forced him up. Breaking the surface he engulfed a lung-full of air and winded, struggled to get his bearings. How far had he moved?

  A heavy wave smacked into the back of his head. Damn it, he muttered. Where was she? She was here—I know she was!

  Exhausted, stressed, Vic didn’t know how much more he had. How much time she had—and gave in to a shot of despair. Visions of frozen eyes stared at him from the pool bottom. Help me. Her silent plea pierced him to the core. Help me, Victor!

  His body began to tremble. His vision tunneled. He hadn’t been able to help—time had been too short, the pull too strong. He couldn’t save her. Instead, he watched her die.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. Focus. You can do this. His pulse skipped and careened. She never had a chance. The blade lodged deep.

  But Selena does... It was a whisper from nowhere. Wishful thinking for a man who needed to beat the odds. Treading water, his gaze floated over the surface. Blinding green into white, Selena was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere.

  His heart leapt to his throat. Wait—

  He caught sight of the sun’s reflection off her slick black hair. Not far off, she was bobbing.

  Moving.

  A jolt of exhilaration ignited him to action. Yes! Vic lit into his muscles. He pounded wave after wave. He kept his eyes trained on Selena. His body moving, he kept his mind zeroed in on her. Using every ounce of strength he had left, Vic felt a sudden certainty he could reach her in time. Hold on, Selena. I can see you. I’m almost there.

  When he neared, Selena was on her back. Arms outstretched she worked them to remain afloat. A burst of admiration swept through him. The girl was a fighter. Feet away now, a deep sense of vindication spread through him. He could save her. This time, he could save her.

  As he neared, Vic planned his rescue. Crossing her chest with his right arm, he would secure her body, his hip wedged into the small of her back. He’d coast with the current, regain his strength, then swim them back to shore at the first break in undertow.

  Startled by the sharp sound of an engine, Vic whirled around. What the—?

  Chapter Four

  Instinctively, Vic dodged out of the way.

  “Grab her!”

  The Jet Ski slowed, the motor sound muffled as it submerged in the dip of a deep swell. The man seated behind the driver reached out and grabbed Selena’s arm, and with skilled balance kept himself astride the Jet Ski as he hauled her body up and out of the water, easing her to a seated position on the wide foot board.

  The driver worked his stance to offset the waves crashing over them, able to maintain a near level platform for his partner to secure Selena aboard the watercraft.

  “You okay?” one of the men called out to Vic.

  He gave a terse nod.

  “I’ve got another crew right behind me. Can you hang on?”

  Vic nodded again. Every muscle in his body had been rendered limp by the averted tragedy, but with relief pouring through him, he knew he could do anything. Gliding onto his back he worked to regain normal, rhythmic breathing.

  Through half-lidded eyes, he watched the two young men attend to their victim—with an expertise he would not have believed them capable. Brisk fingers pressed her neck for pulse. Trained eyes scrutinized her pupils. Questions fired out to assess orientation. Once satisfied she was able to make the trip, they gently locked Selena between them.

  Glad for her safety, Vic concentrated on filling his lungs with air and fought the ambivalence roiling in his gut. He could have saved her. He’d been within distance. And where he should have been happy with the lifeguard’s presence, his gratification was checked by failure.

  “Over here!”

  A second Jet Ski approached, waved toward Vic by Selena’s rescue team. Vic managed a scowl. The necessity of his own rescue did not sit well.

  Within seconds, the second craft swung around him and the driver cut her throttle. Several feet away, she allowed them to float the remaining distance to Vic.

  “Can you reach my hand?”

  “Yeah.” Vic reached out in automatic response and let himself be hoisted onto the foot ledge, whereby he managed to crawl onto the back end of the seat. “Thanks.”

  “You okay?” the young blonde asked.

  “Fine,” he said, not intending the crisp tone of his reply. But riding in to safety behind some doe of a lifeguard wasn’t what he had planned.

  “Hold on,” she warned and gunned the engine with a powerful thrust.

  Spotting the crowd gathering along the shoreline with Diego and his team, he groaned inwardly. Perfect. But Vic’s ego released. A life had been saved today. Didn’t matter who received credit. Important thing was he didn’t lose a second one.

  # # #

  Riveted by Diego’s every word, Sam eyed the Morgan-Baxter file sitting on her kitchen counter and realized at once she would use it as a tool—a ploy to get Vic to her condo and get him talking.

  A shudder raced through her. How close the two had come to drowning! She couldn’t imagine something like that happening to her, or for that matter, anyone she held dear. It was like a page of your life being ripped out before your very eyes. Crumpled, discarded, like meaningless litter.

  But it wasn’t. The presence of loved ones in life rooted your entire existence. If Vic hadn’t been there, if the lifeguards hadn’t been there... Diego’s life would have been torn apart, irrevocably changed forever.

  Anxious to end the call, Sam cut in, “All right. Listen, take care of Selena and let me know how she’s doing. If there’s anything I can do, call me, okay?”

  When Diego agreed, she loosened her viselike grip on the receiver, slid the phone down along her neck and returned it to its cradle. “You, too, Diego,” she murmured to no one, pondering his final words.

  Count your blessings.

  The sentiment trickled into her heart. It was something she tried to do every day but admittedly, fell short at times. But that was to be expected, wasn’t it? She commandeered a high-powered legal career. Work con-sumed her, required her complete attention. Some days, she barely had time to breathe, let alone count!

  Sam’s gaze drifted out through the glass doors. Breathe, she reminded herself. Breathe. As her mind took flight over the bay, past the key and headed for the horizon, tension gradually released. Let go, her spirit urged. Release all thoughts and breathe. Count your blessings, your joys. Last year’s traditional Christmas family photo drifted into her mind and Sam closed her eyes, pressing the soft underside of her lids together. Happy parents, six kids… To imagine one gone was unbearable.

  Sam breathed in deep and slow. If only for a moment, focus on all you have and hold dear. Vic had a close call today. Selena had a close call.

  She inhaled again, repeating the move until every crevice of her soul was cleansed of worry, over her sisters, over Selena...everything in life she couldn’t control. In and out Sam breathed until she felt calm enough to call him. Vic didn’t have any friends in Miami. New in town, it was nothing unusual. Most men didn’t cultivate friendships as easily as women and other than Diego, she was as close a friend as Vic had.

  Sam picked up her cell phone and dialed his number from her programmed list of contacts. Vic would need to talk about it. Get it off his chest, work through his emotions, his feelings...

  And she would be his sounding board.

  Two hours later, the rap on her door was solid but brief. Show time!

  Sam adjusted her blouse, a breezy short-sleeved number the color of avocado, then fluffed auburn curls, brushed unruly strays from her face and walked over to answer him. Here under the guise of preparing closing arguments for Morgan-Baxter, Vic would be none the wiser when she casually mentioned her conversation with Diego.

  Slipping into a pair of leather sandals parked by the door, she sported her warmest smile, grasped the knob and opened wide. “Hey, Vic.” />
  “Hey,” he returned, delivering a fleeting once over on her attire.

  She decided shorts would be suitable, since she was in the privacy of her own home. Short, but not too short. “C’mon in,” she replied and made way for him to enter.

  “Thanks for coming by.”

  “No problem.”

  She closed the door behind him and followed him until he stopped mid room.

  Light bamboo flooring, her place was sleek and trendy, white walls spotted by an eclectic display of paintings and glass sculptures, her furniture more art than function. Above her dining room table, cool blue lights dangled from the ceiling like glowing sea anemones. The fixture was one of her favorites because it made the connection between the ocean outside—calm, cool, deep and intense—and her spirit. The two resonated on every level.

  Scattered throughout the room were candles. All sizes and shapes, she thought their earthy colors and textures provided warmth to the ultra-sleek space and reminded her of the light Divine glowing within; her ultimate guide.

  Vic’s gaze eased outside and he let out a low whistle. “Damn, but this is some kind of beautiful.”

  Yes it is, she thought and admired the view. Vic was dressed in white Polo shirt and jeans, and she couldn’t help but notice his high and tight backside atop legs that went on forever. Not only good-looking, the man was well built. But then again, Sam indulged in a private smile, she had already deemed Victor Marin to be one fine specimen.

  Snapping free from her musings, she walked across the room and opened the sliding glass door. Stepping outside onto the balcony, she invited him to join her.

  Vic did so and scanned the horizon. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

  “Thanks.” Sam inhaled a chest-full of moist, salt-laced air and relished the instant relaxation that spread through her body. It never failed and served as one of the main reasons she lived here.

  Grasping the round metal railing with both hands, she took in the scenery splayed before her like a 3-D canvas and let her vision run. Biscayne Bay was a glorious sight to behold.

  Front and center was Rickenbacker, an arched causeway over the water and the sole entrance for Virginia Key, Key Biscayne and Crandon Beach. When she was younger, this was her beach of choice. But as Miami expanded and refurbished, South Beach became her preferred destination for surf and sun. To her left was downtown, a beacon of international commerce and culture and beyond lay the ocean...

  The ocean carried her thoughts away. “Whole different feel, isn’t it? Pennsylvania may have some mountains, but nothing opens up your senses like a hundred mile view.”

  “No doubt. And modern. I like modern.”

  “Me, too.” Sam turned to face him. Drawn by the sharp outline of his profile, she studied the dark features that jumped out against the pastel hues of her building. Was he okay? With the incident now behind him, was it no big deal? Or was he conflicted, brooding over what transpired yesterday?

  “What’s that gold thing over there?”

  Sam followed the direction he pointed, but it wasn’t necessary. The shiny gold dome was a landmark in this area. “That’s the Seaquarium.”

  “Seaquarium?”

  “Yes. Kinda like our very own Seaworld right here in Miami. It’s one of the oldest of its kind. Been around as long as I can remember, actually. Just past it is a marina. My family used to stop there on the way home from the beach and watch the fishermen clean the day’s catch.”

  He glanced at her. “Do they have shows?”

  “They do. There’s even a marine lab next door for students from the University of Miami to conduct research,” she said, and continued to watch him, to study his features.

  Vic nodded. “What are those buildings off in the distance?”

  She ran her hand along the railing and replied, “Key Biscayne. It’s a mix of homes, small businesses, Crandon Beach and the Cape Florida Lighthouse.”

  “You go there much?” he asked, but didn’t turn toward her.

  “Used to, but South Beach is the place to be now,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  “I’ve gone over some arguments for trial,” she began, following the ruse she set. “I’d like you to take a look at them. The file’s inside.”

  Vic acknowledged he heard, but seemed reluctant to leave his spot. He took hold of the railing and squeezed, his attention focused outward.

  Immersed in the view as he was, she wondered to his state of mind. Did the ocean have the same effect on him as it did on her? Did he feel it, breathe it...let his mind fly far and beyond?

  Desire pulled at her. Beneath that cool exterior of his Sam sensed some hot emotion churned. Though she didn’t really know him, she felt there was more to this man than the eye could see. A whole lot more.

  And she found it very alluring. “Let me get it,” she offered, though it was the last thing she wanted to do. First and foremost was a desire to linger in the intimacy of Vic’s presence. But when he turned to her, Sam was presented with a distinct wall of indifference. This man was here on business, nothing more and nothing less.

  “It’s in the kitchen.” She went indoors and retrieved the files from the black granite counter. Vic followed her inside and she led him to the sofa. Depositing herself on one end, she eyed the cushion next to her. “Have a seat.”

  As he did so, she judged his comfort level. Tense. More than the close personal quarters, something was bothering him, keeping him at arm’s length.

  Had to be the beach incident.

  Sam flipped open the folder and fingered through a few loose pages. She settled on two and handed them to Vic. “Here’s my summary on the case. Let me know what you think.”

  He scanned the pages in short order then turned to face her. “They look fine.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  He peered at her with the slightest hint of question. “Let me take a better look at them and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Of course.” She didn’t really expect him to make any snap judgments. Taking the papers from Vic, she slid them neatly back into place and closed the manila folder. Folding her hands atop the file, she wondered how to begin.

  Should she ease into it? Should she come right out with it?

  He put hands to his knees. Though he remained still, Vic seemed impatient to leave.

  Nothing left to discuss about the case, she decided to dive right in. “I spoke to Diego.”

  Understanding lit up Vic’s eyes, but he drew the shades quickly, making sure his guard was securely in place.

  “He told me what happened yesterday...at the beach. Selena’s lucky you were there to help her.”

  The muscles in his jaw jumped. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Surprised by his rebuke, she said, “Diego said you went out after her. I’d say that’s something.”

  “The lifeguards pulled her from the water, not me.”

  Sam waved it away like an irrelevant bug of a detail. “Diego told me the lifeguard noticed you before he ever realized Selena was in trouble. You were the reason they went in, not her.”

  “How does he figure that?”

  “I guess one of his teammates is good friends with the lifeguard staff. After it happened, he got the inside scoop.” She rolled back through his version of events. “They told him one of the guards was uneasy about you and went in. When you went further out, he called for backup and that’s when they saw her.”

  Vic grunted. “Whatever. They would have seen her sooner or later.”

  Sam sat back, puzzled by the deferral. Was this male bravado talking? Or was he that humble? Personally, she thought it damn courageous of him to go in after the girl in the first place. Unfamiliar with the ocean currents, what to do if he got into trouble... Hell—he could have gone under himself!

  Was he stupid? Ignorant? She narrowed in on him. “What gives, Vic?”

  “What do you mean, what gives?”

  She noted
the flash in temper, as well as his quick check on the same. “Why are you so hesitant to take credit? It’s not every man that would have gone in after someone in trouble. Most people would have summoned a lifeguard rather than chance it themselves.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not most people.”

  Respect for his sense of duty warred with a resentment of his callousness. His put-off was unwarranted. Sam sank back into the cushion. She folded her arms over her midsection and snipped, “No, I guess not.”

  Vic expunged a heavy sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Clearly uncomfortable, he looked around.

  As though searching for an escape. Had she miscalculated?

  Vic turned suddenly and trained his attention on her. And while his eyes softened, he maintained a hard line. “Look, I wasn’t trying to be some kind of hero, okay?”

  “Never said you were.”

  The mood cooled. The space between them grew.

  It was a distance that bothered him.

  Damn. Vic raked a hand over his head and down the back to his neck. This was the last conversation he wanted to talk about, but Sam seemed bent on discussing the issue. He rubbed the tight muscles and forced himself to relax. She wanted to talk, he would talk.

  Because disappointing Sam Rawlings was not on his agenda. Not professionally and not personally.

  “Listen...” He slid the hand from his neck and dropped it to his thigh with a heavy thud. “I’m sorry if I sound like a jerk, but the scene brought up some bad memories for me.”

  Expectation filled her eyes and Vic knew he had to commit. He had to confess. Reservation cut deep as he murmured, “I witnessed a girl drown, a long time ago.”

  Sam shot forward. “Oh Vic, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. “No way you could. It was years ago, but something like that...” The blade of the past poked into his heart. “It sticks with you.”

  “I imagine...” Concern mellowed the brown of her eyes. “Did it happen at a beach, like with Selena?”