The Deeper the Passion.... Jennifer Lewis
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Why would she care?
“Not yet.”
Relief sank through her. Probably because she didn’t need any more complications right now, like some damsel coming forward to claim that the treasure was half hers as a result of their divorce settlement.
“But I might have.”
“If there was someone out there crazy enough to take you.”
“I like crazy broads.” His lazy gaze grazed her body, setting her skin on fire through her clothes and igniting a flash of irritation inside her.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Probably why I liked you so much.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and his dark stare seemed to penetrate right through her. Why did she still have to be so attracted to him? You’d think that kind of thing would fade over time. She thought it had! But now that she was right here, only a few sun-scorched feet from him, all that long-forgotten desire was rising up like buried treasure—or junk—hidden beneath shifting sands.
“I don’t think you liked me all that much.” She walked to the prow of the boat, careful to keep her footing on the slippery surface. The deck rose and fell with the constant heave of the ocean, and she had to work slightly to stay balanced. “But maybe I’m wrong.” She turned to him, feeling safer with slightly more distance between them.
“Maybe you are.” His forehead was slightly furrowed, and his eyes rested on her for such a long time that she almost lost her footing and had to grab the rail around the deck. Was he thinking back to their whirlwind romance, all those sweltering nights in the Keys that one summer after college? She didn’t think about it much, not anymore. She was over it.
Truth be told, though, she wasn’t entirely over getting dumped at the end of their steamy romance. And if the spark between them should happen to get reignited, she looked forward to returning the favor.
The rise and fall of the ocean shifted the deck under her feet and her stomach was starting to feel queasy. If Jack knew, he’d make fun of her for not having her sea legs. “So, shall we plan to start the search tomorrow?” Then she’d have time to take a seasickness remedy in advance.
“I don’t know.” He stared out at the horizon, squinting out at the deep, blue unknown, sun blazing on his hard features. He was taunting her. He turned to look at her and her stomach lurched. “Did you think about my proposal?”
“I suppose it does make sense to spend time under the map together. To study it.” Anywhere other than here on this lurching deck. She grabbed a handrail, trying to look casual. It was surprising how little movement it took to throw your inner ear off kilter. And what an unhappy effect that had on the stomach.
“It’ll be like old times.” His voice held more than a hint of suggestion.
Without waiting for an invitation, she clambered over the side of the boat—with some difficulty, which she attempted to conceal—and back onto the hard and very still dock. “Not really.” This time she’d be in control of what happened, and when it ended.
“Leaving so soon? I was going to show you the sonar.”
“I’ll see it in action tomorrow.” She marched up the dock toward the house, hoping she could make it back there and collapse somewhere fast. She didn’t intend for Jack to see her in a moment of weakness. Like the predator he was, he’d have to pounce and play with her, and she wasn’t quite strong enough for that.
Once she had the reward, though, she’d feel strong. Ten thousand dollars might not sound like much to her old friends, but it would be enough to sow the seeds of her new life. A life where she wouldn’t have to depend on anybody but herself.
She heard the thud of Jack’s feet hitting the deck. He was coming after her. A satisfied smile crossed her mouth. She made sure to add an extra ounce of swagger to her walk, knowing—or was it hoping?—that his eyes were tracking her hips like a laser beam.
He thought he’d achieved a victory by getting her to agree to sleep with him. Little did he know it had been her plan all along. She’d enjoy it, too. She hadn’t chanced a sensual affair in almost a year. She’d been too busy dodging creditors and trying to hide her precarious financial situation. She certainly hadn’t wanted to be in an intimate situation where she might have to open up to someone.
She wouldn’t have to open up to Jack. His personal walls were as thick as the battlements on his ancestral home, and he never let them down. They could make love all night long and keep their hearts under lock and key. Hers had chains on it that weren’t likely to break anytime soon, especially not for Jack Drummond.
His footsteps were gaining on her, and she fought the urge to walk faster. Instead, she slowed to let him catch up. “Is there any hope of dinner out here on your desert island?”
“I caught a big swordfish yesterday. We can grill it.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to eat swordfish anymore now that we’ve poisoned the oceans. A friend of mine is pregnant and she said the doctor told her the toxins can affect your genes and damage your future children.”
“My children might enjoy having three eyes.” His grin cut a white slash across his dark face. “Are you worried about your own offspring?”
“I won’t ever have children.” She said it brightly. “So I can eat all the swordfish I want.”
His smile vanished. “You can’t have kids?”
She startled at the sudden change in his demeanor. Why did he care if she could have children or not? “Not can’t, won’t. I’m not cut out for motherhood. Too much wiping butts and drying tears for my taste.”
He laughed. “Did your mom do those things?”
“No, she hired a nanny for that.” She walked faster. This conversation was getting too personal.
“You could do the same.” She felt his dark, penetrating gaze on her cheek.
“No, thanks. I’m doing my best not to turn out like my parents.”
“Me, too. Unlike my dad, I intend to be alive at fifty.” Something in his voice made her turn to look at him. His eyes were shadowed.
“I heard about his death. I’m sorry. It was a small-plane accident, wasn’t it?”
“It was no accident.” He marched steadily, eyes now straight ahead. The house loomed through the trees. “He’d been trying to kill himself for years.”
The Drummond curse. Vicki remembered Katherine Drummond begging her to help her find the lost cup pieces and lift the curse that had dogged the family for centuries. At first Vicki had laughed it off, but the Drummonds certainly didn’t seem to have much luck in life. They could make money all day long, but when it came to marriage or family harmony, or even simple contentment, they were a disaster zone.
“The awkward silence descends.” Jack spoke softly, slightly mocking. “So, the swordfish it is. Let our children learn to play with the dark hand they’re dealt.”
“I’m sure it will be delicious.” She regretted her quip about the fish. “I eat it all the time and love it.”
“I remember it being your favorite.” He opened a side door of the house, pushing at the big, tarnished brass handle. Something in the tone of his voice made her breath catch at the bottom of her lungs. What else did he remember? How she’d called him in the middle of the night just to hear the sound of his voice? The way she sighed when he kissed her neck?
The time she’d made the bitter mistake of telling him she loved him.
That last one wasn’t a question. He probably would remember that, unless he’d repressed it somehow. That little slip of the tongue had sent him running.
She followed him into the cool, shaded interior. Things would be a lot easier if she could