group at the bar glanced over, talked softly among themselves, and then broke up.
“You’re coming with me.” Joe towered over her.
“Like hell. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“On the Reprieve. ” It was a command. “We decided you’d be safer there.”
“You decided? I’m a big girl. I can decide for myself, take care of myself.”
“Like you did tonight?”
“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not swabbing the decks, or polishing the planks, or whatever it is you think you’ll order me to do on my own boat. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .” She wanted to make a grand exit, hold her head high and stomp out. But her legs betrayed her and she found herself falling into Joe’s arms.
“Do you have to be told everything twice?” He gathered her up in the blanket and carried her out of the bar, nodding to Rosa, Stanley, and Henri as they went.
“This is not happening.” Half-heartedly she pushed at him. “Are you for real?” Aware she was being watched, she struggled against him for about a minute, just enough to make it look good. The truth was she was tired, physically, emotionally, and mentally. She was scared and she’d had maybe one island drink too many. She should be ashamed of herself for giving into this fairy-tale heroic epic but she didn’t care.
For the first time since the pirates had approached her on the beach, she felt safe. She nested her head into his chest where she could feel the strong muscles working and hear his heart beating. The release of having been through an ordeal and coming through in one piece, the deepness of the night, and maybe a little extra island potion in the whiskey drink made her tired and weak. She was asleep in Joe’s arms before they reached the car.
Even on the bouncy, short ride to the marina, she only roused occasionally, but fell back asleep. She woke for a moment when Joe carried her onto the boat and tucked her into the bunk. His hands were roughened by work, but gentle.
The way he touched her made her weak and excited at the same time. She kept her eyes closed, afraid to open them, afraid to even breathe. If she moved, he would know she wasn’t asleep and the spell would be broken. In her mind, she knew this couldn’t happen. A one-night stand was the last thing she needed to complicate her life. But her body wasn’t paying any attention to her mind; it was reacting on its own. Her heart was beating out of her chest, her skin was warm, and deep within her a core of need was bubbling like a volcano.
Unable to stand it any longer, she reached up and encircled his neck with her arms, ran the strands of his hair through her fingers. His breath quickened and his body stiffened, but he didn’t move away. Joe hesitated for a moment before lowering his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, slight, exploring.
Then he groaned and kissed her harder. He tasted of salt and the purity of the sea. He smelled of canvas dried in the sun and island wind.
Breaking the kiss, he laid his head beside her and groaned again.
When he lay there and made no further moves, Riley reached for him a second time, then massaged his neck, tracing the hard muscles on his back.
For a moment he lay still and let her touch him. Abruptly he rolled toward her, grabbing her hands and pushing them away. Propping himself on one elbow, he stared down at her. In the moonlight the gold glints dominated his brown eyes. She thought he would kiss her then, hold her, make love to her.
He unrolled himself from the bunk and instead of his warmth, a flush of cooler air enveloped Riley.
“Not now. Not tonight,” he said. And then he was gone.
A myriad of emotions shot through her. She felt shocked, mad, embarrassed. She sat up, blinking awake, trying to make sense of it. She had gone out on a limb, offered herself to the cretin who’d stolen her boat and he had the nerve to reject her?
She bellowed in frustration and searched for something to throw, to break. When
“You’re coming with me.” Joe towered over her.
“Like hell. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“On the Reprieve. ” It was a command. “We decided you’d be safer there.”
“You decided? I’m a big girl. I can decide for myself, take care of myself.”
“Like you did tonight?”
“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not swabbing the decks, or polishing the planks, or whatever it is you think you’ll order me to do on my own boat. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .” She wanted to make a grand exit, hold her head high and stomp out. But her legs betrayed her and she found herself falling into Joe’s arms.
“Do you have to be told everything twice?” He gathered her up in the blanket and carried her out of the bar, nodding to Rosa, Stanley, and Henri as they went.
“This is not happening.” Half-heartedly she pushed at him. “Are you for real?” Aware she was being watched, she struggled against him for about a minute, just enough to make it look good. The truth was she was tired, physically, emotionally, and mentally. She was scared and she’d had maybe one island drink too many. She should be ashamed of herself for giving into this fairy-tale heroic epic but she didn’t care.
For the first time since the pirates had approached her on the beach, she felt safe. She nested her head into his chest where she could feel the strong muscles working and hear his heart beating. The release of having been through an ordeal and coming through in one piece, the deepness of the night, and maybe a little extra island potion in the whiskey drink made her tired and weak. She was asleep in Joe’s arms before they reached the car.
Even on the bouncy, short ride to the marina, she only roused occasionally, but fell back asleep. She woke for a moment when Joe carried her onto the boat and tucked her into the bunk. His hands were roughened by work, but gentle.
The way he touched her made her weak and excited at the same time. She kept her eyes closed, afraid to open them, afraid to even breathe. If she moved, he would know she wasn’t asleep and the spell would be broken. In her mind, she knew this couldn’t happen. A one-night stand was the last thing she needed to complicate her life. But her body wasn’t paying any attention to her mind; it was reacting on its own. Her heart was beating out of her chest, her skin was warm, and deep within her a core of need was bubbling like a volcano.
Unable to stand it any longer, she reached up and encircled his neck with her arms, ran the strands of his hair through her fingers. His breath quickened and his body stiffened, but he didn’t move away. Joe hesitated for a moment before lowering his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, slight, exploring.
Then he groaned and kissed her harder. He tasted of salt and the purity of the sea. He smelled of canvas dried in the sun and island wind.
Breaking the kiss, he laid his head beside her and groaned again.
When he lay there and made no further moves, Riley reached for him a second time, then massaged his neck, tracing the hard muscles on his back.
For a moment he lay still and let her touch him. Abruptly he rolled toward her, grabbing her hands and pushing them away. Propping himself on one elbow, he stared down at her. In the moonlight the gold glints dominated his brown eyes. She thought he would kiss her then, hold her, make love to her.
He unrolled himself from the bunk and instead of his warmth, a flush of cooler air enveloped Riley.
“Not now. Not tonight,” he said. And then he was gone.
A myriad of emotions shot through her. She felt shocked, mad, embarrassed. She sat up, blinking awake, trying to make sense of it. She had gone out on a limb, offered herself to the cretin who’d stolen her boat and he had the nerve to reject her?
She bellowed in frustration and searched for something to throw, to break. When
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