by Joss Wood
“There are one or two other things I could think of that I’d rather do in the dark—” she gave Mac a mischievous look “—but what the hell. Okay.”
The corners of Mac’s lips kicked up and a laugh rumbled in the back of his throat.
“Funny girl,” he replied in his coated-with-sin voice as Marty pretended to ignore their banter. Dropping her hand, Mac took a step back and gestured to Marty. “Right. You’ll be here when we get back?”
“I’ll be here,” Marty promised. “You need life jackets but put on bug repellent first. And lots of it.”
Marty pulled out a container from his back pocket and handed it to Rory. “If you don’t slap it on everywhere, the mosquitoes will carry you away.”
Rory wrinkled her nose. Where on earth were they going? Knowing she would just have to wait and see, she rubbed the cream on her face, over her arms and down her legs. Then she pulled on a life jacket, tightened the clasps and went over to the double kayak.
She kicked off her shoes and pushed the kayak into the water before hopping into the seat. While she waited for Mac to get ready, she pulled her hair back from her face and secured it into a ponytail with the band she’d found in the back pocket of her cotton shorts. The stars were magnificent, she thought, a trillion fairy lights starting at the horizon and continuing ad infinitum.
She trailed her hand through the warm water, now impatient to get wherever they were going. Mac took the front seat after helping Marty push the kayak into deeper water, still looking irritated that he wasn’t paddling—the man hated relinquishing control. Within a couple of strokes Rory found her rhythm and she followed Mac’s directions across the small fisherman’s harbor to what seemed to be an entrance to a coastal reserve. Mac unerringly directed her toward a channel between huge mangrove trees. Only the light of his strong flashlight penetrated the darkness. It really was an easy paddle despite Mac’s bulk. She listened to the sounds coming from deep within the forest, birds and frogs, she presumed, as she navigated the low-hanging branches of a tree.
“Not far now.” Mac’s deep voice drifted past her ear as they leaned backward to skim under another branch. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.”
“Not scared?”
“Please.” She snorted her disdain. “I survived a life-threatening hurricane. Though I wouldn’t mind if I was the one lounging around while you did the work.”
“I wish I was. I feel like I’ve surrendered my man card,” Mac grumbled, but she heard the grin in his voice.
“I’ll reinstate it later,” Rory replied in her sultriest voice.
Mac laughed and she cursed as the bow of her kayak bounced off another branch. “Dammit. How far do we have left?”
“We’re almost there,” Mac replied as she moved backward and around the branch with the aid of the flashlight Mac held. Rory paddled for a minute more and then the channel opened and they entered a small bay. Mac told her to head for the middle of the bay.
When she stopped, she looked at the shadows of the mangrove forest that surrounded them. The moon hung heavy in the sky and the air caressed her skin. Gorgeous.
“Look at your oar, babe,” Mac softly told her. Rory glanced down and gasped with delight. Every paddle stroke left a starburst in the water, a bright streak of bioluminescence that was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Oh, my God,” Rory said, pulling her hand through the water, hoping to catch a star. “That’s amazing. What is it?”
“Dinoflagellates,” Mac replied. “Prehistoric one-celled organisms, half animal, half plant. When they are disturbed, they respond by glowing like fireflies.”
“They are marvelous. So incredibly beautiful.”
“Worth the effort?” Mac asked, lazily turning around to look at her.
Rory leaned forward to rest her temple on his shoulder. “So worth it. Thank you.” A fish approached the kayak and darted underneath, leaving a blue streak to mark his route.
Mac reached for her hand. Their fingers linked but cupped, they lowered them into the water. When they lifted them out it looked like they held sparkling glitter. The water dropped back into the lagoon, and when the initial glow subsided, the glitter still danced in the water.
“The mangroves feed the organisms, releasing vitamin B12 into the water. This, with sunlight, keeps them alive,” Mac told her.
Her heart thumped erratically, her fingers, in his, trembled. With want. And need. With the sheer delight of being utterly alone with him in this bay, playing in Mother Nature’s jewelry box. She wanted more experiences like this with Mac. She wanted to experience the big and small of life with him. The big, like seeing the bay sparkle, the small, like sharing a Sunday-morning cup of coffee.
She wanted more than she should. She wanted it all.
Rory dipped her paddle into the water and looked at the sparkling outline...spectacular. She knew Mac was watching her profile, his gaze all coiled grace and ferocious intent.
This was beautiful. He was beautiful, too, Rory thought. But like the bioluminescent streaks, he was fleeting.
She could enjoy him, marvel over him, admire him, but he was so very, very temporary.
Nine
There was too much resistance in his arm, Rory thought, frowning. On day twenty-one of physio, a month after his injury she stood behind Mac, gently massaging his bicep and trying to figure out why he was having a buildup of lactic acid in his muscle. The resistance exercises she’d given him shouldn’t have made this much of an impact. She’d been very careful to keep the exercises low-key, making sure the muscle wasn’t stressed more than it needed to be.
Unless...she stiffened as a thought slapped her. Hell, no, he couldn’t be that stupid, could he?
Rory held his arm, her hand perfectly still as she turned that thought over in her mind. He wouldn’t be sneaky enough to go behind her back and push himself, would he?
Oh, yeah, he would.
“Problem?” Mac tipped his head back and she looked into those gorgeous, inky eyes. Look at him, all innocent. Rory whipped around the bed and stood next to him, her hands gripping her hips and her mouth tight with anger.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” she demanded, making an effort to keep her anger in control.
Mac sat up slowly, and she saw he was deciding whether to bluff his way out of the situation. It would be interesting to see which way he swung, Rory thought. Would he be a grown-up and come clean, or would he act like he had no idea what she was talking about?
“I knew that I could push a little harder,” Mac replied in a cool, even tone.
Points to him that he didn’t try to duck the subject. Or lie.
“Did you get a physiotherapy degree in the last month or so, smarty-pants?”
Mac ignored her sarcasm. “I know my body, Rory. I know what I can handle.”
“And I have a master’s degree in physiotherapy specializing in sports injuries, you moron! I know what can go wrong if you push too hard too fast!” Rory yelled, deeply angry. “Are you so arrogant you think you know better than I do? That my degrees mean nothing because you know your body?”
“I utterly respect what you do,” Mac calmly stated, linking his hands on his stomach, “but you don’t seem to understand that this body is my tool, my machine. I know it inside out and I need you to trust me to know how far I can push myself.”
“You need to trust me to know what’s best for you in this situation,” Rory shouted. “This is a career-threatening injury, Mac!”
“I know that!” Mac raised his voice as well, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Do you not think I don’t lie awake every night wondering if I’m going to regain full movement, whether I’ll be able to compete again? The scenarios run over and over in my head, but I’ve got to keep moving forward. That means working it.”
“That means resting it,” Rory retorted. “You’re pushing too hard.”
“You’re not pushing me enough!” Mac yelled as he stood up. “I can do this, Rory.”
Rory looked at him and shook her head. Look at him, all muscle and hardheadedness, she thought. Beautiful but so incredibly flawed. He had to go full tilt, had to push the envelope. But he refused to accept that this envelope was made of tissue paper and could rip at a moment’s notice.
Would rip at a moment’s notice.
She couldn’t stop him, she realized. He’d ignore her advice and go his own way.
Rory lifted her hands, palms out. “I can’t talk to you right now.”
“Rorks—”
“I’m not discussing this right now.” Rory walked toward the door.
Mac’s arm shot out to block her way. When she tried to duck underneath it, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her, far too easily, against his chest. “No, you’re not just walking out. We’re going to finish this argument. We’re adults. That’s what adults do.”
“Let me go, Mac.” Rory pushed against his arm. She struggled against him, desperate to get away.
“God, you smell so good.” Mac dropped his mouth to her shoulder and nuzzled her. His teeth scraped over her skin and Rory shuddered, feeling heat pool low in her abdomen. She shouldn’t be doing this, she thought. She should be walking away, but Mac’s hand cupping her breast, his thumb gliding over her nipple, shoved that thought away.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought as she arched her back and pushed her breast into his palm. Mac pulled her nipple through the cotton fabric as he pushed the straps of her shirt and bra down her shoulder with his teeth. His breath was warm on her skin and she reached back to place her hand on the hair-roughened skin of his thigh, just below the edge of his shorts. Hard muscle tensed beneath her hand and he groaned as he pushed his erection into her lower back.
Ooh, nice. Rory twisted her head up and back, and Mac met her lips with his, his tongue invading her mouth to tangle lazily with hers. Damn, he kissed like a dream. His kisses could charm birds from trees, move mountains, persuade a nun to drop her habit...
Persuade. The word lodged in her head and she couldn’t jog it loose. She tensed in his arms as she pulled her head away from his. Persuade. Coax. Cajole.
Seduce.
Rory closed her eyes and slumped against him. God, she was such a sap, so damn stupid. Mac was distracting her from the argument, hoping she’d forget he’d gone behind her back. He used her attraction to him against her, thinking that if he gave her a good time, she’d forgive him for being a colossal jerk!
She pushed his arm and stumbled away from him, shoving her hair from her face with both hands. God, she finally understood how being in a man’s arms could make you go against your principles.
This is how it would be with him; she’d object, he’d seduce her into changing her mind. I get it, Mom, I do. But unlike you, I’m going to listen to my head and not my hormones.
Rory locked her knees to keep herself upright and took a deep breath, looking for control. She pulled down the hem of her T-shirt, wishing she were in her tunic and track pants, her uniform. She’d feel far more in control, professional.
“Did you really think I’d fall for your little let’s-seduce-her-to-get-me-out-of-trouble routine? I’m not that shallow or that stupid. And you’re not that good.” Rory slapped her fists on her hips, ignoring the flash of angry surprise she saw in his eyes. “You went behind my back to exercise your arm. That was devious and manipulative. I don’t like dishonesty, Mac, in any form. Because of that and because you obviously don’t trust me, I think it’s best that I leave.”
She could see from the expression on his face that he thought she was overreacting. Maybe she was, but he’d given her the perfect excuse to run. To get out of this quicksand relationship before she was in over her head and unable to leave.
“Our contract will become null and void,” Mac said, his voice devoid of anger or any emotion at all.
“I don’t care.” Rory told him. She wanted her clinic, but not at the cost of living in quicksand. “I’m going upstairs to pack. I’ll be out of your hair in a couple of hours.”
Mac swore and swiped his hand across his face. “God, Rory...running away is not the solution!”
“No, the solution is you being honest with me, listening to me, but you won’t do that, so we have nothing to talk about,” Rory snapped before walking out the door. Yes, she was scared, but she couldn’t forget that he’d been dishonest with her. That was unacceptable.
She’d forgotten, she thought as she ran up the stairs to her room. You can’t trust him; you can’t trust anyone. Disappointment comes easily to those who expect too much. Don’t expect. Don’t trust.
She wouldn’t do it again. She wouldn’t be that much of a fool. Mac would do his own thing, always had and always would. It was how he operated. He’d charm with his sincerity, his kisses. He’d say all the right things but nothing would change, not really.
The best predictor of future behavior was past behavior, she reminded herself.
“I’m sorry I went behind your back, but I was trying to avoid an argument,” Mac said from the doorway to her bedroom.
“Well, you got one anyway.” Rory picked up a pile of T-shirts and carefully placed them in her suitcase, her back to him.
* * *
Mac leaned his shoulder into the door frame and felt like he’d been catapulted back ten years. The argument was different but her method of dealing with conflict was exactly the same as her sister’s.
The difference between the two sisters was that he wanted to apologize to Rory, needed to sort this out. He didn’t want her to run.
“I didn’t touch you to distract you or to get out of trouble. You’re right, I’m not that good.”
Rory’s narrowed eyes told him he had a way to go before he dug himself out of this hole. But that particular point was an argument for another day. He sighed. “And yes, I should’ve been upfront with you about doing the exercises. Though, in my defense, it’s been a very long time since I asked anybody for permission to do anything.”
Like, never.
“The lie bothers me, but it’s the insult to my intelligence that I find truly offensive. That you would think I wouldn’t realize...”
Ouch. Mac winced. “Yeah, I get that.”
Rory sighed. “That being said, I can’t take lies, Mac. Or evasions or half-truths.”
Rory tossed a pair of flip-flops onto the pile of shirts in her suitcase. Mac cursed himself for being an idiot. She’d told him about her father and his deceit, and if he’d thought about it, he would’ve realized keeping secrets from her was a very bad idea.
He sucked at relationships and that was why he avoided them. So if he was avoiding relationships, why the hell was he determined to get her to stay?
“Don’t go, Rorks. It isn’t necessary. I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
He could, but he didn’t want to. A subtle but stunning difference.
He needed her. For something other than her skill as a physio and the way she made him feel in bed. It was more than that...his need for her went beyond the surface of sex and skill.
Dammit, he hated the concept of needing anyone for anything. It made him feel...weak. He was a grown man who’d worked damn hard to make sure he never felt that way again.
Yet he was prepared to beg if he had to. “Please? Stay.”
Rory turned slowly. “Will you listen to me?”
“I’ll try,” he conceded, and lifted his hand at her frown. He wasn’t about to make promises he couldn’t keep, not even for her. “Will you try to accept that I know my body, know what I can do with it?”
“It’s such a huge risk, Mac.” Rory bit her lip. “You’re pla
ying Russian roulette and you might not win.”
“But what if I do?” Mac replied. “If I do, I place myself and my team and my friends in a lot stronger position than we are currently in. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“I’m not sure that I am.” Rory sat down on the edge of the bed. “I have a professional responsibility to do what’s best for you, and this isn’t it.”
“I’ll sign any waiver you want me to,” Mac quickly said.
Rory waved his offer away. “It’s more than playing a game of covering the legalities, McCaskill. This is your career, your livelihood at stake.”
“But it’s my career, my livelihood.” Mac held her eye. “My decision, Rory, and I’m asking you this one time to trust me. I can’t live with negativity, I just can’t.”
“I’m not being negative, I’m being realistic,” Rory retorted.
“Your perception of reality isn’t mine.” Mac sat down next to her on the bed and looked down at the cotton rug below his feet. “I really believe that part of the reason why I’ve been successful at what I try is that I don’t entertain negativity. At all. If I can think it, I can do it, and I don’t allow doubt. I need you to think the same.”
“Look, I believe in the power of the mind, but everything I’ve ever been taught tells me you need time, you need to nurse this... It will be a miracle if you regain full strength in that arm.”
He couldn’t force her to believe, Mac thought in frustration. He wished he could. He blew air into his cheeks and rolled his head to release the tension in his neck.
“Okay. But if you can’t be positive then I need you to be quiet.” She started to blast him with a retort but he spoke over her. “I’m asking you—on bended knee if I must—to stay and to trust me when I tell you that I know my body. I won’t push myself beyond what I can do.” Here came the compromise. It sucked but he knew he didn’t have a chance of her staying without it. “I won’t do anything behind your back and I will listen, and respect, your opinion. I still need your help, if only to keep my crazy in check.”
Rory stared at the floor, considering his words, and he knew she was wavering.