by Zana Bell
She shrugged out of her raincoat and flicked a sodden lock of hair back from her face. “You have the bathroom first.”
“No,” he said. “You.”
She disappeared down the hall without argument. Her submissiveness ought to have placated him, but he didn’t trust it. He filled the kettle and put it on. Then, not wanting to track mud and water through the house, he stripped in the kitchen, found a small towel and wrapped it around himself. It didn’t quite reach, which meant he couldn’t tuck it in and had to hold both ends with one hand. He was busy loading his clothes one-armed into the washing machine when she materialized in jeans and a huge sweater, toweling her long hair.
“Your turn.”
Her cheeks were rosy from the heat of the shower. Her eyes were huge. Delayed shock, he decided. She must have been terrified, hanging from the gutter in the pouring rain. He took a step forward.
“That is one devilishly sexy outfit, Texas.”
Muttering an oath, he stalked out of the room with as much dignity as a man can muster clutching an inadequate towel.
SHOWERED AND SUITABLY attired, he returned to the kitchen to discover Cressa had hot chocolate laced with whiskey waiting for him. She was curled up on the sofa in the living room, her head tilted toward the potbelly, letting the heat dry her hair. The lighting was subdued, since she’d only switched on one lamp, and the air smelled of warm apple essence shampoo. As he took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa, she passed him the cup and gave him her most disarming smile.
“I’m truly sorry.”
Maintaining his wrath was difficult. Besides, a lot of it had already been washed away in the heat of the shower.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t let her off completely, though. To sell the moral high ground for a hot chocolate and a smile was too cheap a price. “But a finer example of irrational, pigheaded, not to forget downright ignorant thinking is hard to imagine.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I have fixed roofs before, I’ll have you know.”
“In the rain?”
“Well, no, but—”
“In the wind? With no one to hold the ladder?”
Talking about it brought back visions of her small figure dangling in the wind. Good thing she had such strong fingers to hang on with. A litany of possible injuries flashed through his mind and he took another swig of his drink.
“It was a bit…” She trailed off.
“Foolish?” he suggested. “Rash? Idiotic?”
She tucked her feet tighter under her. In the muted light her eyes seemed filled with mists and dreams. He looked at his mug. How much whiskey had she put into the thing? Had fright unlocked some scary poetry DNA, sequencing courtesy of Adahy? The very idea made him shudder.
She pushed her hair back, tilted her head and gazed at him. “You’re right. No excuses. I was stupid. It’s just that I saw the piece of metal flapping as I was about to go to bed, and thought it would only take a couple of minutes to fix. I couldn’t very well leave it.”
“Again, why didn’t you come and get me?”
“I don’t like being…helpless. You know, weak. Dependent.”
He stared at her. “Are you serious? You equate someone holding a ladder with dependency?”
She squirmed. “Not when you put it like that. Are you going to be angry with me for the rest of the night? I suppose you have a right to be. I can’t think of any other damsel in distress who flattened her knight in shining armor.”
“Hardly a knight.”
“You did break my fall.”
“True.”
“I’m glad the sheet’s nailed down tight.” She drew in a breath and added, “You did a much better job than I’d have done.”
He eyed her over his cup. “I did, but I bet that magnanimity cost you one helluva lot.”
Cressa laughed. He loved her laugh. “It burned all the way up my throat.”
His eyes fell to that throat, soft and white, disappearing under the woolen sweater.
“You did well to find all the gear,” he said grudgingly.
“You forget—I spent summers here. We used to explore all the nooks and crannies.” She looked around the room with affection. “It’s good staying here. These walls have enjoyed a lot of laughter. Being back is kinda weird, though.”
“What, with just me and Mom?”
“No, it’s not that.” She paused, then gave a self-conscious smile. “It’s me, I guess. Strange being back as an adult is what I meant. It reminds me of being a child again. I remember all the games we used to play, the dreams we used to have.”
“So what did you used to dream of?”
They were both talking in low voices, though there was no need to. Outside the rain and wind lashed, but he and Cressa were cocooned in warmth. She lifted her hair and shook it to help dry it. To do so, she had to arch slightly. Adam wondered if she did that deliberately. “I don’t know, lots of things. Sailing around the world was probably my greatest dream.”
“So why aren’t you doing that?”
“Because—” Cressa broke off. “I don’t know,” she added slowly, as if trying to find the answer to a profound question. Then she shrugged and looked back at him. “What about you? What did you dream about when you were a kid?”
She cradled an ankle in one hand. It was a slender ankle at the end of a beautifully toned leg. She kept herself in great shape. He knew what her body looked like really well now. Had seen it in a bikini, had seen it in skimpy warrior gear, knew it in pants and sweats, knew it in the mornings when she stood yawning by the coffeepot with just an oversize T-shirt and fluffy slippers on. But he didn’t know the feel of it. His hands had yet to learn the textures of skin and hair and—
He realized he was staring. “Me? Oh, I don’t know. Working in a circus was right up there at one stage.”
“The circus? Really? Trapeze or lion tamer?”
He loved the mischief in her face. The scent of warm apple made him want to draw closer, to rub his face in her hair.
“Trapeze.”
The word sounded as if he’d dragged it out. He found it hard to think with senses rapidly overriding brain.
“So why aren’t you doing that now?”
The question was gently teasing, but it snapped his mind back into his body, and Adam realized he couldn’t do this. Couldn’t sit in the softly lit room, Cressa an arm’s reach away, and trade confidences. He knew the game so well—hey, he and Cole had invented half the rules. It would be madness to addle his concentration only weeks from his exam, and for what—a meaningless fling? He drained his mug.
“Dreams change.” He stood, destroying the insidious web of intimacy. “It’s late. We should get to bed.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “Why the rush? Stay a bit longer.”
If he did, they both understood what would happen. Fantasies of what Cressa was offering right here, right now, spun vividly. He’d be a fool to leave. He should take it then walk away. That’s what she wanted. What any red-blooded male wanted.
He just wanted more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TYPICAL NORTHLAND, by the next day the weather had cleared and filming resumed. Cressa’s days were long and she scarcely saw Adam, who made an appearance on the site only one day, to help swell the number of extras and to consult over some of the stunts. The rest of the time, as far as she could tell, he was closeted in his room except for his long runs.
Despite the punishing work schedule, she filled her evenings socializing with the film crew and talking on the phone to her sisters. But no matter how much she tried to keep busy, she still found herself thinking far too much about Adam—which was ridiculous, because she wasn’t the sort who got fixated on one guy.
She wasn’t like Bridget. She was pleased for her friend, though. Bid had finally plucked up the courage to ask Jeremy out, and now they were in the first flush of infatuated love. Cressa thought it sweet, but Sam made vomiting noises if Bridget went on too long about Jeremy’s virtues. Sam h
ad started up a hot affair with Hank, but while their lovemaking sounded impressively physical, her heart remained unattached. Neither she nor Bid rated Cressa’s chances with Adam anymore. If it hadn’t happened by now, they advised, look for someone new.
Trouble was, Cressa didn’t want someone new. All she wanted was one stubborn-as-hell, hot, sexy Texan. She simply didn’t understand him. That night she’d seen the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that matched hers. She’d never met a guy with so much self-control. He wanted it; she wanted it. No strings. Wasn’t that what guys dreamed about? All she needed was to get him alone for a few hours. On a boat…
When her next day off finally came round, the fickle Northland weather was right on her side, sunny and very windy. In high spirits she banged on Adam’s door. “Leaving in one hour. Don’t forget to bring a change of clothes.”
She sang as she packed the bags of food and changes of clothing. Alicia strolled into the kitchen, a blouse in her hands.
“My, but you are happy today.”
“I adore sailing, and it’s been months since I was out on the water. I haven’t been on Takapu for years. She’s my uncle’s boat. He taught all of us how to sail her.”
Since their chat, she’d felt closer to Alicia in some ways, though that comment about her being lost had hurt at the time. On reflection, she realized she had to forgive Alicia. The woman was a mother, so no wonder she’d sounded like Cressa’s own mum. They simply didn’t understand where Cressa was coming from. Alicia held out the blouse. “This is a bit young for me. I wondered if you’d like to have it.”
Cressa stopped short, beer cans suspended above the ice chest. “Really?”
Alicia smiled. “Really.”
The blouse was peasant-style, with a drawstring neck and long sleeves gathered into cuffs. Embroidered flowers wreathed the neckline. It was way too beautiful for a scruffy type like her.
She took it, but said, “I don’t think I can carry off something as lovely as this. I’m just not…” And she indicated her cutoff jeans and hoodie.
Alicia smiled. “It’ll look lovely with your long hair. Besides, it might be useful today to help stop sunburn.”
“Oh no! It’s far too nice for that.” She draped the blouse against her body and could feel herself weakening.
“It was made to be worn. I’ll be sad if you don’t accept it.”
“Well, in that case, thank you!” Cressa laughed as she hugged Alicia. “I’ll feel like a princess when I wear it.”
“It’s my pleasure. Now, take care of my son. Don’t drown him.”
Alicia had been entertained when she’d learned about the roof escapade, though she’d again sounded like a typical mother when she’d commented that as a child, Cressa must have been as much of a worry as Adam had been. A good thing she said that, though. Cressa and Adam had rolled their eyes at each other, and for that split second, they’d connected again.
“He’d better obey me. I’m captain today, and any subordination will have him walking the plank.”
“I heard that!” Adam sauntered into the kitchen. “Brace yourself. I’ve never met a captain not in need of a little mutiny.”
He whipped her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. She shrieked and pummeled his back. “Put me down!”
He just laughed.
“Do you know what captains do to mutinous crew?” she demanded.
“Threats? Oh, bring it on, baby.” He spun around so hard her braid swung wildly.
“You’re in an exceptionally good mood, too, Adam.” Alicia sounded amused.
“Yeah. It’s the prospect of getting out for a bit,” he admitted. “I’ve been going a bit stir-crazy these past two days.”
“Self-inflicted, so no sympathy.” Cressa tried to kick him, but the action was futile. Adam had her legs in a vise grip. But she knew how to outwit him. “Actually, the view’s great from this angle.” She patted his butt. Immediately she was on her feet again.
“That’s better.” She pulled her hoodie down, smoothed her hair. “So how many captains have you met, anyway?”
“Including you? One. I’ve never been on a boat before.”
“You must be kidding. I can’t believe it! You are in for such a treat. You’ll love it!”
SHE WAS RIGHT. The sails, the sheets, the instruments and the small galley enchanted Adam, though he eyed the tiny head with suspicion. He bounded barefoot around the deck like an old salt and was quick to pick up the basic principles of sailing, even if he couldn’t read wind direction very well and was initially over-exuberant on the tiller. She loved watching the way he moved, light and fast. Loved the flex of muscles when he stripped off his shirt and hauled up the anchor. Loved the reach of his long arms as they pulled up the sail. Loved, especially, the moment he looped an arm around the mast as if it were a friend, and flung his head back to draw in a deep, blissful breath. His scar ran clean and uncompromising down his olive-brown back. It ought to have marred the perfection of honed muscle and sinew, but strangely, it enhanced it. His legs looked longer than ever, encased in black jeans. The jeans were incongruous on a boat, but less incongruous than a Texan biker dressed in surf shorts.
He turned to her, dark eyes glistening. “This is go-oo-d.” He drew out the last word as though it had a couple of syllables in the middle. “Thanks. I feel as if I can breathe properly for the first time in months.”
They flew down the long reach of Te Huna Inlet, the conditions proving windier than Cressa had expected. Years had passed since she’d sailed in the Bay of Islands, and seeing the familiar green hills and islands, the countless coves with white sands, was glorious. Adam dropped into the cockpit next to her, bracing himself with his feet as Takapu heeled at a steep angle, her sails fat with wind.
“This is incredible,” he said. “Bay of Islands. Well named.”
She trimmed the tiller, wondering if she’d been rash in hoisting the boat’s sail, the large genoa. “Yeah, there are more than a hundred and forty of them. Over there is Urupukapuka Island. Zane Gray used to go there for deep-sea fishing.”
“You’re kidding! I’ve read all his books.” He touched her lightly on the nose. “This is fun. Thanks.”
She resisted the impulse to lick his finger. “’Sa pleasure. It’s nice to share it with someone.” With Adam.
He began asking all about the history of the region, the geographical features. At one point she laughed.
“What?” he asked.
“I hadn’t expected you to be interested in such things.”
He smiled, but his eyes went guarded. “Why not?”
She shrugged. “You’re more Action Man.”
“All plastic muscle and nothing between the ears?”
“No! I meant as in an outdoorsy type.”
“So are you.”
“Ah, but deep down nerd qualities lurk.”
His eyes followed a seagull. “Maybe we all have an inner nerd.”
“Maybe.” Another large gray cloud scudded overhead. That wind was definitely picking up. “I think we’d better drop the jenny.”
“That’s the front sail?”
“You’re learning fast. If you can release that rope—” she pointed to the sheet “—from the cleat and go forward, you’ll be able to pull her down. Okay?”
He followed instructions, but the sail didn’t give. Adam shaded his eyes and squinted up the mast. “It might be caught.”
She brushed a strand of hair out her eyes. “Damn! The halyard’s jammed.”
She gazed across the water to see a large gust rippling the surface as it came toward them.
“I can climb up and free it,” Adam said.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you kidding me?” he demanded.
She pretended to cringe. “You’re right. Sorry. That would be great.”
He shinnied up the mast and began fiddling. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, glanced forward and saw black rocks ahead. She’d completely forgotten about the reef
. At high tide it was submerged, but with the tide going out, its vicious serrations were visible.
“Adam, we’ve gotta jibe,” she bellowed above the sound of wind and flapping sails.
“Gotta what?” he called back.
She had no time to explain.
“Hang on tight!”
As she yelled, she sheeted in the main, hauled on the tiller and ducked. There was a bang as the boom snapped over her head. Adam gave a startled cry and she watched the mast swing with sickening suddenness in a vast arc as the boat lurched, tipping to the other side. He clung like a monkey as the mast reached far out over the water. Cressa fought to steady the Takapu and bring her onto the next tack. She was filled with visions of Adam being catapulted, smashed or drowned, but he was still clasping the mast as it slowly rose to a vertical position. In seconds, he was back on the deck, and pulled the genoa down a second before the gust struck. The boat heeled wildly, but they were sailing on course again, reef behind them. Cressa’s heart was still racing, though, and when he dropped back into the cockpit, she was stricken.
“Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry. I—”
“What do you mean? That was fantastic.”
She stared at him in disbelief. His eyes were brilliant in his dark face. “I nearly killed you. For a second time.”
He laughed, putting his hand to his chest. “Yeah, heart attack material, all right. But hey, did you see that? It was amazing!”
He was high on adrenaline, and as relief kicked in, she started laughing. “Oh, man,” she said, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I thought I’d killed you.”
“Nah. If I’d fallen in, you’d have come and gotten me.”
She sobered. “I shouldn’t have let you climb the mast without a harness.”
“Are you kidding?” He grinned. “When the mast whipped like that—hey, it was the most incredible rush I’ve ever had. They should make a ride like that at Disneyland.”
This made her laugh again. “Not everyone is as crazy as you. Still, I shouldn’t have put you in danger.”
He gave her a funny look. “Cressa, I’m a steelworker.”