Chapter Thirteen
In Stacey’s mind, every ounce, every shred of trust for Troy was gone.
True, he hadn’t physically hurt her, but he had deliberately terrorized her. If he thought they could be on good terms after that, he needed his head examined. Her only consolation was he looked damned guilty and regretful.
She was loving that.
He slashed a hand through his hair. “I feel really bad about this. At least let me try to make it up to you. I don’t want fear to be the last memory you have of this place. Not when it’s so beautiful here.”
“You mean you don’t want my last memory of you to be of an asshole.”
He grimaced. “That, too.”
“If you think that sweet-talking me is going to result in sex, forget it. Not after what you did to me. We’re done. I realize I was living in a fantasyland about you.”
“I know you’ll never sleep with me again. I get that. But I owe you an apology, and this is the only way I can think to do it,” Troy said. He strode to the refrigerator and took out two bottles of water, then grabbed a set of keys off a hook on the wall. Opening the front door, he stepped back and held it for her.
“Where are we going?” she asked suspiciously as she stepped out onto the front deck. What the hell did he have planned?
“Out on my boat.”
Was he serious? “You think a boat trip is going to make things better? What are you, an emotional drop-kick?”
“I’m sure my sister thinks so.”
He strode down the stairs, and she followed him, looking left and right for any alligators. An aluminum boat was moored at the edge of the water near the house. There were hand-built steps leading down to it.
“Will that hideous monster try and jump in?” she asked. The last thing she could deal with was that giant reptile making a reappearance.
“Don’t worry. It’s safe. Psycho hates the sound of the outboard motor. Too noisy for him.”
She took another look around, undecided. But she had to admit, the bayou was beautiful. Irresistible. It brought back delightful childhood memories of her father.
When she was a child, he had taken her fishing. She’d adored him, and she was still grieving. She’d never been happier in her life than when she was with her father. Even though she’d always insisted he throw back any fish they caught.
Besides, it was satisfying watching Troy trying to make up to her. Though, he could rot in hell, for all she cared.
“Anyway, the boat is too big for an alligator attack,” he said as he started the outboard motor, then held out his hand to her.
Fine. Some time on the water would calm her, help her think of her father and put his memory to rest. To hell with Troy. Keeping an eye out for any sign of Psycho, she walked down the two steps and jumped onto the boat without taking Troy’s hand. She sat on the bench seat in the middle of the boat as he undid the rope mooring and set off.
Soon they left the main waterway and entered a smaller channel surrounded on both sides by tidewater cypress swampland. Spanish moss hung from the trees, and a giant, awe-inspiring tupelo gum tree rose from the water on her left. Troy cut the engine, and they floated noiselessly as the sound of birdsong rippled across the air.
He leaned over her and pointed to the bank. She was just about to tell him to back off when she saw two raccoons playing. “Oh, look at that! I’ve never seen them in the wild.”
He smiled. “This glade is full of creatures. I come here to fish. I can stay for hours just listening to the quiet. I need it to decompress after a mission.”
She turned to him, trying not to drink him in. “You’re right. This place is magical.” Peaceful. Already she could feel the tension leaving her body.
Could she ever forgive him for his rough treatment? She didn’t know, but it didn’t rattle her so much anymore. Not with the sun streaming down through the trees, intensifying the green around them. Not while he sat near her, his eyes alight like a boy’s, experiencing the delight and magnificence of this prehistoric place.
“Look over there.” He pointed to a grassy embankment. A stag was watching them.
“He’s magnificent and so close.”
“You like the swamp,” he said, sounding a bit surprised.
“I love it. My dad used to bring me, long ago. Brian was always too wriggly on a boat, so he never came along. But I could sit for hours. It was just Dad and me. Our special time.”
Troy gazed at her, looking regretful. “I’m sorry, Stacey. I’m sorry I hurt you. I hope bringing you here helped you feel…a little better.” He uncapped and handed her a bottle of water.
“I know you’re sorry. I saw it on your face the moment you spoke to Lizzie.” She hadn’t realized she was thirsty, but she drank the water with gratitude.
The air smelled of the sweet perfume of wild azaleas…and Troy’s subtle musk. Something in her stirred at his scent, but she clamped the feeling down. She would be grateful for this lovely moment with him, but nothing more.
“I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.”
She glanced at him with longing. He was a damned sexy beast. He seemed to instinctively know what would calm her. But she had to remind herself that all they had in common was great sex. Nothing else.
“I’m not good with betrayal,” she said quietly. Take me home, Troy. I need to start my life again. Without you in it.”