by Nancy Radke
“I didn’t drive the spike into that tree.”
“No, you didn’t. But you are a distraction to me, and I was distracted.”
“I wasn’t anywhere around,” she echoed herself, wondering what kind of distraction he was referring to. “I was in the house fixing a meal.”
“And I was outside, trying to cut up a tree...and thinking about you. You are a distraction.”
“But I—”
“I’d just nearly killed you.”
“But that was over an hour before—”
“And I kept thinking about that tree on you—”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see—”
“And then I got to thinking about this...” Stepping close to her, he slid his broad hand under the heavy length of her hair and twisted it into his firm grip, “like you let it down at night.”
She grinned to herself. Ah ha! Was that what was bothering him all this time? “I can keep it braided,” she offered, her heart accelerating in a swift mood change as she caught his meaning.
“Beautiful...” He tugged down sharply and as her head was pulled back, kissed her thoroughly, almost desperately, as if he had broken free of restraint—or had passed the end of his patience.
Whether it was an angry attack or a frustrated defense on his part, didn’t make any difference to Jennel. She liked it. She loved it. Her whole being clamored for more of the same, and if she’d have been allowed to move her lips away—which she wasn’t—she wouldn’t have.
It was a dominant, all-consuming kiss and she resisted for a split second only, caught up in the excitement generated by his aggressive demands. Never in her life had anyone kissed her this way—as if he couldn’t get enough of her—and never in her life had she felt this overwhelming reaction.
At last he shoved her away, releasing her with a groan and a negative shake of his head, as if to deny what he’d just done.
Shaken by her reaction to him, Jennel quickly stepped back. She had avoided dating domineering men, believing she wouldn’t like anything about them, especially the way they made love. But Zack’s kiss had thrilled her like no other’s. She actually liked being held as if he couldn’t let go of her. She enjoyed being treated like she wasn’t made of glass and wouldn’t break if she was kissed hard. Her lips tingled... and wanted more.
The kelp-covered rocks were slippery and with the third backward step, she lost her balance. Her hand flew out, seeking support. He caught her, pulling her again into another desperate, demanding kiss that went on and on, rocking her world and shooting her emotions into orbit, demolishing her ability to think.
The excitement, the joy of the moment, encompassed her with a happiness that made her head spin, her body reel. Her hands slipped up around his neck, seeking support as her knees threatened to give way. Why hadn’t they been doing this all along? Why had they waited, acting like two circling dogs, checking each other out, ready to fight? She didn’t want to fight Zack. Far from it.
The steel hard vise of his arms clamped her tightly to him, his hand sweeping up through her hair to tether her head in a tilted-back position. Warm lips salted by the ocean spray, offered a feast and demanded one in return.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss—neither of them had been—almost as if he was punishing her for so much emotional anguish. But it lasted long enough that Jennel wanted it to continue, to disregard any resistance she still had.
And that she dared not do, for then things might truly get out of hand. It was cold on the beach, and if their emotions could flare so intensely hot here, what would happen when they returned to the boat?
This was madness; out of control. Fighting the powerful force of her own desire, she yanked her throbbing lips away, crying, “Zack, stop. Please.”
This time he stepped back while still holding onto her.
“You see,” he asserted, taking great lung fulls of air, restless and shaken with the urgent drive of his feelings. “Whether you like it or not, you are a distraction...a powerful one.”
So was he! Gasping for air, she gazed wide-eyed at his perplexed features, his clear hazel eyes made darker by the passionate fervor of their encounter. Eyes that called wordlessly to her while he held himself in check, pleading that she not deny the attraction between them, drawing them inexorably together like a giant magnet.
Its force propelled her forward into his arms. She had to have more, no matter what happened later. Shoving caution ruthlessly aside, she lifted her lips to meet his.
This time they kissed with mutual astonishment, a moment of sweet exploration. A time of gentle perfection that continued until the roaring in her ears made her struggle for breath. Instantly, he released her.
She stared at him, wordlessly, searching his eyes to see if his reaction matched hers. They were hazy, almost glazed, revealing deep emotion. Was he as thunderstruck as she felt?
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a crawling movement...a sparkling line of foamy white rushing steadily toward them. Puzzled, Jennel shifted her gaze, then gasped.
“The tide!”
“Oh, no!” Zack’s hand clamped down hard on her arm. He yanked her quickly about and rushed her across the slippery rocks, their speed hampered by the treacherous footing. She stumbled as she ran, but his support prevented her from falling entirely.
The incoming water was amazingly swift, winning the race until they hit smoother ground and gained on it. Low spots filled in ahead of them so they had to splash through several small channels. The water was ankle deep and getting deeper, surging in to reclaim the low ground.
They made it, but only just, rock hopping the last few feet before reaching the shore. Brutus was there ahead of them, barking loudly, tail wagging merrily, thinking it all a great sport.
Their tennis shoes were soaked, as were the bottoms of his sweatsuit and her jeans. Jennel gasped for air, this time from exertion.
At least she’d warned them in time. A minute longer, and they’d have had to swim out. And with the water temperature a chilling fifty degrees fahrenheit, it would not have been pleasant.
He had stumbled twice on the way back, going down to his knees while holding her upright. The rocks must surely have bruised him. Alarmed at the possibility he had re-injured himself, she touched his arm. “Is your knee okay? Did you pull any stitches?” Jennel worried aloud.
Still panting, he lifted the leg of his sweats to check. “Nope. All okay.”
“Good.”
He looked back at the cove, now innocently covered with an expanse of water. “We almost had to swim it.”
“I can see why people get caught.”
“Yes. They get interested in other things and forget to watch the tide. We wouldn’t have had to run, if you hadn’t distracted me again. I probably wouldn’t have noticed it until it reached my feet.”
Her mood switched immediately. “Well, excuse me for existing!” she retorted.
Their desperate scramble to avoid the tide had effectively dampened all but the remembrance of the fiery emotions that had swept through her. How could he regard the earth-shaking event as a distraction better avoided. Did he dislike her so much? Jennel spun around and stormed up the path leading away from the cove toward the far headland.
“Don’t go off mad,” he shouted after her as he followed, slower because of his knee. “You can’t help it.”
“That’s right!” she yelled back, angry at herself for making so much of their brief encounter. Why did Zack have to confuse things?
Spurred on by conflicting emotions, she charged up the steep path, through the high grass, trying hard to shake off the desire to agree with him just to get him to kiss her again.
Frustrated, near tears, she ran harder, increasing the distance between them. She was so confused she couldn’t think straight...and she didn’t want to talk to him when she felt so hopelessly out of control. Exercise often served to cool her down. It was imperative that she stabilize before he caught up.
“Be careful up t
here! Wait for me!” he roared, hurrying after her as best he could.
The authoritative order fueled the fire of her anger. No one was going to boss her around. Clenching her jaw, she ran faster, heedless of the many rabbit holes that skirted the pathway.
At this moment, Zack was on her “Men-I-Never-Want-To-See-Again” list. Claiming she was a distraction when he was an even greater one to her. And saying she couldn’t help causing trouble. She could so!
She was perfectly able to take care of herself. Why did some men view a woman as helpless?
Ahead of her Brutus stopped and turned back.
“You can wait for him! All day if you want to,” she snapped to the big dog as she swerved off the path to go around him. “Not me!”
Looking around, she saw she was at the end of the island. Jennel stopped near the cliff’s edge and gazed across to nearby Stuart Island. The high tide forced a tremendous volume of water into the narrow channel between the two islands. Coming from several directions at once, the waters were as mixed up as her emotions, currents and counter-currents meeting in boiling white foam, wave countering wave, battering against the rocky shore.
She looked down. The waves had made some headway, cutting into the face of the cliff. Maybe she also had some hope of battering away at Zack until he gave in, but the waves had been at their task a long time and hadn’t gotten far.
This was why she had avoided dating bossy, domineering men. They always thought it was someone else’s fault if things went wrong. They would never admit to their own faults.
How could she think of working for a man like that? They would never be able to work in harmony.
Don’t fool yourself, she told herself sternly. That’s not the problem. How do you go about getting a man like that to fall in love with you, so that he no longer thinks of you as just a distraction?
At that moment Zack joined her, patting Brutus’ head. “I’m glad you stopped.”
Jennel shot him an angry glare. “Of course, I did.”
“Visitors to these islands have been known to walk off the cliffs.”
She doubted it, and it echoed in her voice. “Really?”
“Really. It’s the grass. It hides the edge. People don’t see it and step out into space.”
“But I know better.”
“Everyone does. But you were running awfully fast.”
Jennel looked down at the path which ended at her feet. Because no one had walked close to the edge, it was heavily covered with grass. She might have gone over, but when Brutus stopped, she had looked up and seen the open space before her.
No wonder Zack had yelled at her to slow down. He hadn’t been trying to tell her what to do, just warn her.
He could have done it in a more acceptable way, like yelling at her to watch out for the cliff edge. That might have got her attention, instead of making her madder.
Maybe. Maybe not. Anything a man said that sounded like he was giving orders was enough to provoke her. Suddenly, she realized it wasn’t fair on her part to react that way. She couldn’t expect people to always say things the way she wanted them to. Especially a man. According to her mother, men didn’t even realize how often they voiced an order rather than a request.
She had to learn to accept that.
Zack had been looking out over the turbulent waters of Haro Strait and turned to face her. “Still mad?”
“No. Just don’t call me a distraction.”
“Oh, you’re more than that, believe me.”
It took a second, but she successfully fought back a retort. “Like what?”
“Forget it. We’ll cut back across the island from here.”
Why was he changing their route? Because of her “distracting” him?
“But I thought we were going all the way around,” she objected.
“Not now. I don’t think my knee is up to it. The path down to the water is steep from here. We’ll go back this way.”
Instantly concerned, she looked at his leg. The bottom of his sweats were still soaked with saltwater. “How is it?”
“It’s been better.” He paused, then his eyes questioned her warily. “Truce?”
She answered slowly, not about to give up any advantage she might have gained. “How do you mean?”
“We’ve been at war—a series of skirmishes—since we first discovered we were hired for overlapping jobs. It makes the situation sort of prickly. So, a truce while we call the Van Chattans and find out what’s going on.”
Jennel was agreeable to that. “Truce.”
“Good!” A smile flashed across his face as he nodded, then turned and led the way. Jennel followed, wishing he smiled more often.
Once back on Zack’s boat, he used his radio to place a long distance call to the Van Chattans. Because of the time difference, he ended up with an answering service.
“The Van Chattans are in California today, Mr. Waylan. Their itinerary shows they will be traveling to Seattle tomorrow.”
“That’s what I needed to hear.”
“I can give you the Seattle hotel number, if you like.”
“Thanks.” He wrote it down as she gave it. “Are they coming to their island?”
“Yes.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes, or so he indicated, although he didn’t say when.”
Thanking her, Zack switched off. “So, tomorrow we’ll be able to talk to them.”
“Good,” Jennel said, and immediately started to worry. What would their decision be?
Chapter Twelve
That evening, Jennel carefully avoided saying or doing anything to shatter their fragile truce. Zack paced the boat like a cornered animal, fished for a half-hour, gave that up and finally took Brutus out to chase sticks until darkness fell.
Neither felt like going up to the old house, so Jennel made meatless spaghetti. They ate quickly, then Zack did the dishes while she set out the chessboard.
His game was substandard, but so was hers. There was lots of time to think between moves, and her thoughts were not on chess. Should she go to work for Zack or not? Her mind ran through the options, considering each of them.
To work for him would keep them close, but once she agreed to it, their relationship would change. She didn’t really want to be his employee. It could turn into sheer torture for her, to love this man, to be close to him, and yet not be close in the one way she wanted.
Picking up her queen’s rook, Jennel moved horizontally five squares, half- heartedly trying to put his king in check. Beating Zack at chess had lost its importance. Winning his love took precedence over all else.
She knew what she wanted: to remain by his side as his wife, to know his love and protective care because he was her husband. She wouldn’t settle for less than marriage. If she was going to take orders from a man, he’d have to commit to her first. Taking orders from him, as an employer, just wasn’t acceptable.
It meant she’d marry Zack, if he ever loved her enough to ask, but she wasn’t going to work for him! It was the only solution she could live with.
Her decision would be easier if she could figure out how Zack felt. Did he love her, even a little, so that she wouldn’t risk heartache if she let her love grow? Or did his admiration stop at the quality of her design work? After all, he considered her a “distraction.”
“My turn?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Had she moved last? She had to forcibly pull her mind back on the game. It sounded like he was having as much trouble concentrating as she was.
“Yes.”
“Sorry.” He propped both elbows on the table and studied the board, brow furrowed, his chin resting on the arch of his fingers.
Dear Zack. Her heart sang at the sight of him, following with delight his slightest movements. Lovingly, her eyes traced the lines of his face, wishing the board was not between them. She didn’t want to be his opponent, in a game neither might win. He wouldn’t get his talented designer, and she wouldn’t get hi
m. She was pitting her heart, like her queen, against his, trying to capture him, but in the process she couldn’t allow him to capture her independence.
That, like her king, she absolutely must protect. It was the rule of the game.
Jennel stared sightlessly at the board, longing to put it aside and tell Zack of her love. But she couldn’t. If the Van Chattans liked her work and wanted her to continue, she would. That would keep her on the island with Zack, but as an independent agent, able to be her own boss. Working with him, but not for him.
It would keep them together, giving him time to fall in love with her, if he was ever going to.
He moved his king aside, leaving his bishop lined up on her unprotected rook. She moved a pawn forward to protect it.
And if the Van Chattans didn’t like her work? What then? Go back to Boston and start anew? Yes. Get another job, working for someone until she could get her business started again. Then, maybe, move her company out to Seattle, after it was going well. A success. She wouldn’t come to Zack as anything but.
The decision made, it should have been easy for her to accept, but as time passed, Jennel found her aching heart trying to find another answer, one that would allow her to stay close to Zack even if John Van Chattan said “no.”
“Check.” Zack moved his queen forward, checking her king, and she was forced to abandon her queen to protect it. Somehow it didn’t seem to matter.
No longer could she deny her need of Zack, both physically and emotionally. A person should not go through life alone. Her heart desired the gentle strength of this one man. He had become more important to her than anything else.
She lost her queen on the next move, but took his bishop with her pawn. His queen fell to her knight a short time later. Again they played to a draw, but Jennel didn’t pursue him. Her heart wasn’t in the game. It was with Zack. She wanted him to be the king in her life.
She put the pieces away and quickly prepared for bed, not wishing to engage in conversation. Her emotions were so strong, he might hear them in her voice, see them in an unguarded glance. If he did, and then kissed her.... Although determined to abide by her decision, she knew that if Zack tried to make love to her, she’d be lost.