Sunswept, page 5
part #4 of Discovered by Love Series
She handed over her cell and watched as he tapped in a location and pressed Start. She glanced at the route when he returned it to her. “We’re going to Plantation Key?”
He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t ask. You’ll ruin the surprise.”
She climbed into the driver’s side and started the car, her curiosity piqued. He was probably taking her by another house he’d found for sale or a place for dessert. But she did not expect, when they arrived on Plantation Key, for the map to take them down to the bay side of a marina.
Zane directed her down a paved road, the water side lined with boats, then pointed to a spot on the grassy shoulder that doubled as a parking lot. When she turned off the car, he was watching her with anticipation on his face. “How do you feel about a little boat ride?”
Bailey couldn’t hold back her surprise. “You have a boat here?”
He nodded once.
“Is it safe?”
“Winds are calm for once and the water’s still. It’s safe.”
She licked her lips. She’d spent plenty of time on the water over the years, but only during the day. Somehow, the inky blackness beyond was far more intimidating. Yet Zane seemed supremely confident that it was safe. She finally nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He smiled and led her across the road and another grassy shoulder to a wooden boardwalk behind the berths. Bailey’s eyes widened as they passed. These weren’t boats. These were yachts. Surely he didn’t own one of these million-dollar behemoths. “Please don’t tell me we’re here to admire your yacht.”
Zane laughed and stopped behind a modest-sized vessel, at least compared to the ones surrounding it, marked in dark blue script with the name Celestine. “Not a yacht. A fishing boat. And technically, since I’ve outfitted it as such, it’s a dive boat.”
“A large, expensive dive boat,” she said, her eyebrows arched.
Zane shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. Ready to come aboard?”
“Aye aye, captain.”
He grinned and held out a hand to steady her as she stepped onto the stern. It was low enough that she just had to step down to the deck. She watched as he loosened the dock lines and threw them onto the deck, then hopped aboard and made his way to the covered half-cabin in the center of the boat.
“You can sit there,” he said, gesturing toward a comfortably upholstered bench seat behind the console. Then he turned a key and started flipping switches. The motors and electronics sprang to life.
“Tell me the truth,” she said as he idled out of the berth. “Do you really use all this stuff?” She waved a hand at the console.
“Absolutely. There’s some tricky navigation to get down here and the waterways aren’t always well marked, hence the GPS. Having the radar is helpful in bad weather or narrow channels. There’s nothing more terrifying than coming up behind a stopped boat in one of the smaller cuts.”
“Do we need that now?”
He smiled at her. “Nah. We’re not going that far anyway. Just out into the bay.”
She wanted to ask him why but suspected that was part of the surprise, so she kept the question to herself. Once he cleared the marina’s breakwater, he throttled up and the boat surged forward, cutting through the water smoothly with the hum of the outboard motors. The night was warm, but the air off the water was cooler, and she rubbed her arms against a sudden chill.
“There’s a windbreaker beneath the seat if you’re cold.” He hadn’t even turned his head, but somehow he’d caught the gesture.
“I’m okay,” she said, but after another minute, she stood and dug into the storage space until she came up with a lightweight red windbreaker. As she thrust her arms into the sleeves and pulled the lapels shut against the wind, she was enveloped by a scent that she’d already unconsciously come to associate with Zane: salt, sunblock, a faintly masculine soap or aftershave. She inhaled surreptitiously then cursed herself for the answering shiver across her skin.
Suddenly, he throttled back. After a moment, he cut the motor completely until the only sound was water lapping at the hull. “Stay here,” he said and disappeared out onto the bow, doing something she couldn’t see. A second later, she heard the whir of a smaller motor and the clink of chains—he must be putting down the anchor.
When he came back, he was smiling. “We’re here. Come look.” He held out a hand.
She took it reluctantly, letting him lead her back onto the deck. And then she gasped.
Her reaction was everything he’d hoped it would be. She tipped her head back to the sky, the light so dim around them that he felt rather than saw the smile that blossomed across her face. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Zane tilted his head back as well. They were only about a mile offshore, but that mile was enough to eliminate all the ambient light from the relatively dimly lit key, plunging them into total darkness. Above them stretched the expanse of the heavens, so littered with stars that it was hard to believe so many could exist in the universe, the Milky Way a spill of diamond dust in the dark. He knew how she felt without her saying it—the first time he had escaped the lights of the city and realized how much those lights concealed, it was like finding out he’d been partially blind his whole life.
“Here.” Zane pulled some of the cushions off the bench seat and spread them out on the deck so they could lay on their backs, side by side, staring upward. He pointed to the south of them. “Do you see those four stars there? The three blue ones and the warmer one up top? That’s the Southern Cross. It points directly to the South Pole. This is the only place in the Northern Hemisphere that you can see it.”
She turned her head quickly in surprise, though he imagined it was too dark to read anything in his expression. Then she looked up again. “It’s beautiful. Not just that. All of it. I knew there were a lot of stars, but this… Why in the world are you staying in a beach house when you could be out here?”
He chuckled. “Because this doesn’t have a cabin below, and it does get a little wet on deck.”
“Ah.” She stared up at the sky for a long moment. “Do you know a lot about stars?”
“A little. I mostly just like looking at them. It’s peaceful.”
“Do you see that one right there?” She pointed directly overhead. “Do you know what that is?”
Zane followed her gaze, then answered honestly. “I have no idea.”
“It’s Saturn,” she said, a smile evident in her voice. It had been some sort of honesty test, he thought, and one he’d apparently passed. “You can also see Mars there, and Venus. Neptune also should be up, but we’d need a telescope or at least binoculars to see it.”
“And here I thought I was going to be the one impressing you.”
Her voice was soft. “Oh, you are impressing me. This was a good idea. I’m glad you turned out not to be a serial killer.”
“As far as you know,” he said teasingly, and she elbowed him hard in the ribs. After a moment, he asked, “So what else is up there that I should know about?”
“Hmm. Well, do you see that bright one? That’s Vega.”
“Okay…”
She chuckled. “This means nothing to you, does it?”
“No, not really.”
“That’s okay. I’m not really an astronomy expert either. Mostly I just like looking.”
They lay there for several long minutes, just staring up at the universe above them. Then Zane rolled on his side to face her. “How do you feel about a swim?”
She turned onto her elbow and looked at him. “Right now?”
“Sure. It’s still pretty warm out.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have a bathing suit.”
He grinned. “Neither do I.” He levered himself up to his feet and then made his way to the console where he flipped on the underwater lights. The sea around them lit up like semi-transparent blue-green glass. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the bench, then kicked off his shoes. After a moment’s consideration, the shorts went as well, leaving him in a pair of boxers. He grinned at Bailey in the dark, slid back the dive door, and took a step straight out into the water.
When he surfaced a couple of feet away within the glow of the lights, she was leaning over the gunwales, looking at him. He treaded water and slicked his hair back from his face. “Are you coming in or what?”
“You’re crazy!”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
Bailey hesitated, but by now, he had learned to read her. That was the look she got when she was mentally trying to talk herself out of something she wanted to do.
“Come on. When is the next time you’re going to find yourself in the middle of Florida Bay on a new moon night? You’ll kick yourself if you don’t come in.”
That did it. She shook her head, as if not believing what she was about to do and then shimmied out of her top and jeans. Zane tried not to look too closely; merely knowing she was sliding out of her clothes was enough to make his heart just about stop beating. He caught the vague impression of a bikini-type bra and shorts-style panties before she plunged into the water.
And then she surfaced, spluttering a little.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” She wiped water off her face. “I can’t believe it’s so warm!”
“Water temperature is higher than the air right now,” he said with a grin. “Told you you’d be sorry to miss it.”
She treaded water, her arms outspread, her pale hair fanning out around her shoulders and bobbing in the current. “Do you do this a lot?”
“What? Swim at night?”
“No, I mean, yes…but take your boat out at night.”
“Occasionally, if I’m without a place to stay. But mostly just day trips. Diving. Fishing. It’s not the most comfortable set up for overnights.”
“Why’d you buy it then? Seems to me you’re happiest when you’re out here.”
“I am. But if I had a cabin, then I’d have no reason to ever go ashore, or at least farther than the marina. I spent too much of my life so far locked in an office alone. Part of the fun of boating is meeting strangers.”
“Female strangers?” she asked casually, but there was the slightest hitch in her voice. Was she actually jealous? And why should that idea please him quite so much?
He answered levelly. “Sometimes. I’ve taken a couple of women diving. But I’ve never brought anyone out to look at the stars.”
He caught a hint of her smile in the reflected glow off the water. “Good answer. Whether it’s true or not.”
That was enough to make him close the distance in a slow breaststroke, until he was close enough to see her eyes clearly. “I have not once lied to you, Bailey.”
Her throat worked, her breath coming faster. “No,” she said softly. “I believe that.”
For the briefest moment, he was tempted to reach for her, but he clamped down on that impulse and instead stretched out an arm to grasp the deck of the boat through the open dive door. He held out a hand to her. “Ready to get back in?”
“Probably should.” She took his hand and let him tow her back to the side of the boat, where she grabbed the deck as well. They stayed there, bobbing side by side for a second.
Then Bailey turned to push herself out of the water, but just as she managed to build up the momentum to get in, her hand slipped from the wet decking. Instinctively, Zane threw his arm out and caught her around the waist before she went under, hauling her to his side. One of her arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing them face-to-face, her body near enough that he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. Instead of moving away, she stilled. Her eyes flicked to his mouth and lingered there, stoking the fire he’d been trying so hard to keep suppressed.
She kissed him first. Later, he would be sure of it. But in that moment, he only knew the softness of her lips, the taste of salt on her skin, the way her legs twined with his beneath the surface of the water. And then she pulled away, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I think that was a bad idea. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay. You’re right. It probably is a bad idea.” But neither of them moved, and before he could think, he was kissing her again with an urgency that obliterated every warning sounding in the back of his mind.
It was probably good that his hands were occupied with keeping them both afloat or he would have been tempted to have them all over her, to feel her slick skin with his fingertips, to mold her curves with his palms. As it was, his breath was becoming ragged, his brain muzzy with desire. And then the boat rocked. His grip on the deck faltered and they plunged downward into the saltwater.
It was as much of a shock as a cold shower. He surfaced instantly, bringing her with him, and her stunned expression told him she had been just as carried away by the moment as he had. He saw the instant her regret flooded in: she retreated behind her eyes, her expression guarded in a way it hadn’t been since their first meeting. He wanted to curse himself for his stupidity.
He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out huskier than he’d intended. “Grab onto the boat. I’ll get in first and help you up.”
He levered himself out of the water and onto the deck. He reached for one of her hands then grabbed the other and hauled her easily up next to him. He didn’t look at her, instead rummaging for two towels beneath the seat compartment. “Here,” he said inanely. “Dry off.”
He toweled himself dry then turned his back to her to pull on his shorts and T-shirt. She was patently not looking at him when he turned around.
“Is there someplace I can change?” she asked.
He was pleased to find that she seemed no steadier than he felt.
“The head, right next to the console.” He waved vaguely, and she slipped by him, still not meeting his eye.
He was an idiot. He’d meant to be a gentleman. He really had. He’d managed admirably up until the point he had his arm around her and…
She had started it, his inner voice reminded him.
True, but he’d most definitely taken it a step further. He toweled his hair until it was only damp then made his way back onto the bow to haul up and secure the anchor. When he returned to the cockpit, she was just stepping out of the head compartment, fully dressed.
“Ready to go?” he asked, forcing cheerfulness, and she nodded.
It was the last thing they said to each other. They made the trip back to the marina in silence, the drive back to their shared house in equal quiet. It wasn’t until Bailey was standing in the doorway of her bedroom that she found her voice. “Good night, Zane.”
“Good night, Bailey.”
The door shut firmly in his face, telling him everything he needed to know about her feelings.
And in the morning, when he awoke, she was already gone.
To say Bailey was off her game would be an understatement.
Before she’d even left the beach house—at an ungodly hour meant to preclude any conversation with her housemate—she’d burned herself with her curling iron, poked herself in the eye with a mascara wand, and chipped a nail while trying to zip her peep-toe booties. With that kind of evidence, she couldn’t even pretend that the previous evening hadn’t left her shaken and jittery.
She and Zane had crossed a line.
Not a physical line—though had circumstances been slightly different they might have blown past that one too—but a practical one. Before, they had been strangers, housemates, on their way to becoming platonic friends. But now? After that kiss that had burned down just about every barrier she had left against him? They were two people in close proximity, powerfully attracted to each other, just begging for trouble.
The only solution was to spend as little time with him as possible until they parted ways on Sunday. Easier said than done, considering they were supposed to be each other’s dates for the next two nights.
But those were formal events. Staid. Posed. Not wildly romantic like stargazing on a boat in the bay, swimming in warm waters, seduced by the conceit that they were the only two people in the world.
If she stayed away from the wildly romantic, she’d be okay.
She even believed that. She stopped at a coffee shop near the resort for an Americano and bolstered her resolve with its double shot of espresso. She managed to make it through the keynote address in the morning and her first two classes without even thinking of Zane. Or at least not in more than the vaguest of terms. But midway through a seminar dealing with appraisals, she found herself focusing not on the speaker, but on the memory of Zane’s lips on hers, the imaginary impressions his fingertips had burned into her skin. There had been something unbelievably erotic about that kiss, cradled by the ocean, nothing but a few layers of wet cotton between them, that had made it feel somehow illicit.
That’s what it was, she decided. It was this idea of a vacation fling. She’d never in a million years have one. But she could if she wanted to. No one would know. There would be no whispers in the office, no professional fallout. No one to judge her but her own conscience, which she had found was unfortunately easy to silence when she really wanted to. It was dancing on the knife’s edge of her own morality, the devil on her shoulder, that made Zane and his kisses so stupidly appealing.
It had nothing to do with him as a man.
Bailey was feeling much better about everything by the time she left the conference at four that day, blowing off Andrew with a promise to talk later at the dinner. She stopped off at a roadside stand on the way back and picked up two orders of fried shrimp and grits; she knew she would be much too nervous about her impending speech to actually eat at the event, but she’d no doubt be starving as soon as her bit was over.
When she arrived home, however, the house was empty. Zane had scrawled a note on the back of a take-out menu that said Wedding rehearsal. Be back by 6. She let out a long breath. Part of her, when she realized he wasn’t here, had wondered if he’d changed his mind. But no, surely the previous night hadn’t thrown him for the loop that it had her. He was a guy, for one thing, and a passionate kiss probably didn’t mean as much to him as it did to her. For another, he still needed her more than she needed him—the wedding of an ex trumped an awards ceremony in the hierarchy of embarrassments.
