Chapter Four
At first, Nina slept deep and dreamlessly, well and truly checked out. But then came a restless phase in which nightmares scratched at the edges of her consciousness. Images flashed in her mind — a man’s face, bent into a scowl. A long driveway lined with palms. The sight of a tropical shoreline, slipping farther and farther away as her panic grew. Then she was splashing in the sea, desperate to grab hold of something to save herself. An oar smashed down, slicing the water next to her ear.
“No!” she cried, jolting upright and scuttling back in the bed.
It took a minute of hard panting before she realized it had all been a nightmare. She wasn’t being attacked for the second time; she was just remembering it.
She sat very still, listening to the sound of the night. Soothing nature sounds like insects chirping, bushes scratching, and waves rolling over a beach. Sounds that told her, Everything is all right. Go back to sleep.
Slowly, she settled back onto the pillow. Her shoulder ached, and her ear throbbed. Though her eyes were shut tight, tears leaked out, and she clutched at the fabric under her hand.
“Help,” she whispered.
It didn’t make sense to call for help, but she couldn’t resist the urge. She’d never felt more miserable or more alone.
“Anyone,” she croaked, wishing she could be a kid again. Her mom would be in the room next door, and she’d come running any second now.
But there was no one. Nothing but the sound of the sea and her own heaving sobs caused partly by terror, partly by a deep sorrow that had been planted in her soul some time ago. Her mother was dead. Gone. Even without a clear memory of the event, Nina knew.
Get it together, she told herself again and again. But she didn’t have it in her just then. Nights were good for crying because nobody else could see. Nights were for hunkering down and getting it all out — the loneliness, the fear, and anxieties — so that the next day, she could dig deep for a smile and the energy to face the world again.
It will be okay, she told herself, stroking her own arm. She could permit herself a little breakdown after nearly being killed, right?
Yes, she could. And whenever daytime came again, she’d be back to her usual self. Positive. Outgoing. Cheerful.
Right now, though… Emotions engulfed her. There was an overwhelming feeling of sadness. A hint of a terrible betrayal. A deep-seated determination not to let life get her down. She sniffed into the pillow, knowing she shouldn’t feel sorry for herself.
Happiness is a recipe you create with whatever ingredients life provides. That’s what her mom had always said. But damn — that recipe was hard to pin down in the dark.
Curtains danced in the night breeze, and her eyes opened and closed, too weary to look yet too restless to sleep. She caught a glimpse of moonlight glittering over the sea before her eyelids drooped again. That couldn’t be real. The scene was too warm, too peaceful. Too tropical paradise to be real.
She drifted off again, terrified the nightmare would return. And when footsteps padded up the porch steps, her heart leaped to her throat before she even looked.
A dog stood silhouetted in the doorway, peering in. It whined and wagged its tail.
“Good doggie,” Nina whispered, relaxing again.
Dogs were like that, sensing your pain. She’d never had a pet, but her neighbors had a big, furry sheepdog, and she used to bury her face in its fur whenever she felt down. And heck, if she’d had the energy to drag herself out of bed, she would have loved to hug the big dog on the porch. It was fierce yet friendly. A friend, not a foe.
The animal paced across the porch, perking its ears this way and that. Man, it was huge. But that made her feel better, because nothing was getting past that beast. She could see it in the twitch of the dog’s nose, the stiff set of its tail. She was safe, and she wasn’t alone. Not with that dog there, standing still as a statue. A guard. Her own private sentry.
Her eyelids drooped again, and she let them, leaving the dog — imaginary or real — to chase the last of her nightmares away. She pulled the blanket over her head and curled up on her side.
Everything will be all right. Everything will be okay.
* * *
The next time Nina woke, morning light warmed her back, and a bird sang not too far away. Waves hummed as they rolled upward, then chattered with the drag of pebbles on their way back to the sea. Leaves tickled the windows, and the scent of hibiscus was everywhere.
She had to be dreaming because reality never came close to that kind of peace. Reality was alarm clocks and crushing debt and crowded streets. Reality was the ache that came from losing someone you loved and the weariness you felt after too many hours on your feet. The loneliness of waking up alone, day after day.
The trick to life is making the best of what you have. Even millionaires have problems, you know.
Nina smiled into the sheets as her mother’s voice echoed through her mind. Her mother was right, of course. There was beauty in everyday things, like sharing a smile, even if it was with a stranger. There was beauty in waking up to another day and going about your routine.
Nina kept her eyes closed, determined to drift around in her dream as long as she could. But even as her senses woke one by one, the dreamy feeling persisted. The coconut oil and salt-air scent still tickled her nose. The ocean continued to murmur not far from where she lay. The balmy air soothed her skin, and light stroked her back, making her feel like a cat curled up on a windowsill for a snooze.
She cracked one eye open, then another, and blinked a few times, afraid of what would happen if she moved. Would the throbbing in her head return? Would the nausea? Slowly, she focused on the bedside table. No clock there — just a conch shell bigger than her foot. She looked around. Where was she?
Curtains flapped lazily in the wide-open windows and doorways, the light fabric swaying with a sea breeze. Colored bottles stood along the crossbeams of the cottage’s rustic walls, reflecting the light in tiny beams of green, brown, and red. There were rocks, too, and more shells — all in all, a beachcomber’s treasure trove. The calendar tacked to one wall was ragged at the edges and — she squinted — two years old. Whoever lived in the cottage probably kept it for the detailed map printed in the center rather than to keep track of time. The whole bungalow was like that — a bright, sunny place that beat away all sense of time. She had no idea how long she’d slept or how she’d arrived there.
Then the gears in her mind lurched into action, and it all came back. The handsome stranger who’d held her tight. The deep, gentle voice that had wished her goodnight. The strong arms that had made her feel impossibly safe after the nightmare she’d endured.
She jolted upright, clutching the sheets. “Oh God.”
Someone had tried to kill her out on the ocean. She touched her head and found the lump. She’d managed to swim to shore, where she might have drowned in the shallows if her knight in shining armor hadn’t come along.
Boone. That was his name. She remembered that clearly. He was Boone, and she was…
She clutched the sheets tighter, because other than Nina, her mind was blank.
She hunched over her knees and hugged herself, rocking quietly. All sense of peace had fled, replaced by a feeling of dread. Images of home — her real home — passed through her mind in a blurry rush, and it was nothing like this. It was cold, for one thing. Wintery cold, with snow to be shoveled and ice to be negotiated on the long walk to the bus stop that would bring her to work.
Work. Oh God. She had to be incredibly late, though she couldn’t remember where she worked or what her job was, except that the thought came with the image of a big, jolly man and the jingle of a bell over a door. Wherever home was, it had to be miles away.
She stood quickly, ignoring the aches that flared all over her body, and went to the map on the wall. A predominantly green map with a fringe of blue and a two-lobed island labeled in happy, cartoon letters. Maui.
She peeked outside and saw the silvery-blue sea framed by palms. How on earth did she get to Maui? Despite the huge blanks in her mind, she was sure of one thing. People like her didn’t go to Hawaii, because Hawaii was really far and really expensive. She might as well be in a casino in Monte Carlo or an exclusive resort in Bali.
But, holy cow. She really was in Hawaii. That, or her mind was completely messed up.
She steadied herself against the open framing of the walls, then took a piece of red sea glass and held it up to the sun, figuring it was better to focus on something small. Color poured through it, making her think of life. Of blood. Of fire. That glass was red like a ruby, and though red was the color of danger, the effect soothed her soul.
“How are you doing?”
She had every right to shriek at the voice that came out of nowhere, but she didn’t. That voice made her feel safe. Protected. Cherished, even. Which only went to prove how bad that knock on her head had been.
She turned and nodded to Boone, who was standing in the doorway.
The last hour of sleep had been filled with images of a too-good-to-be-true man, and yet there he was, in the flesh. His eyes were as blue as the sky. His smile was genuine, his voice filled with concern just as it had been the previous night when he’d carried her.
Her blood rushed. Her heart thumped, and her voice caught in her throat.
“Um…I’m good,” she squeaked while her mind raced.
He cocked his head. “Good, as in you’re just saying you feel good, or actually good?”
She laughed. Yes, there’d been plenty of times in her life when she’d fibbed the answer to that question — even with the blanks in her mind, she knew that — but right now, she meant it.
“Actually good,” she murmured, suddenly aware of how little she was wearing and how closely she’d been snuggled against his chest the previous night.
Goose bumps broke out over her arms, and she rubbed herself. Her skin itched. Her bikini was stiff and salty, which was handy in hiding the way her nipples peaked in reaction to him. Her hair was plastered to her scalp like dried seaweed.
“Well, I could use a shower.”
“A shower,” he echoed, looking at her. “You’re amazing. After all you’ve been through…”
She stared. She wasn’t amazing. She was just plain old her.
The way he shook his head told her she was anything but plain, and they stood gazing at each other for a good minute, suddenly stuck in time. The sound of the waves grew faint, as did the rustle of leaves, and Nina couldn’t help leaning forward. Electricity zapped in the air, and invisible waves of heat bounced between her body and his. Was the man a magician? Could he weave a spell and draw her in at will?
But Boone was leaning in, too, and as dreamy-eyed as she. So whatever the magic was, it worked on them both, swirling around, creating a little bubble of warmth and peace and positive energy. Her heart rate slowed, and a yearning for something she didn’t know she was missing put a lump in her throat.
Then a sea gull cried overhead, and poof! The bubble burst.
“Oh!” Nina exclaimed as the events of the previous night clicked back into her mind. “You saved me.”
He shook his head. “You saved yourself. All I did was dry you off.”
Nina gulped. There wasn’t a hint of sauciness in his comment, and yet her pulse raced at the idea.
He ran a hand through his rumpled hair, and suddenly, she was mortified. “Did you give me your bed? I’m so sorry. Where did you sleep last night?”
He looked out the front door and sniffed the breeze at exactly the angle the dog in her dream had.
“I was fine. Don’t worry. Did you sleep okay?”
She nodded in quick, jerky movements, figuring that was better than the truth. Yes and no. I had the weirdest dreams. First, someone was trying to drown me again, and then a huge dog stood guard over me.
“Do you have a dog?” she asked, peeking outside. The dog had seemed so real…
“No dog.” His lips twitched and she was sure he would add something, but he didn’t. Eventually, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I was thinking you could use some lunch…”
Nina opened her mouth. Lunch? Had she really slept that long?
Boone motioned over his shoulder. “But you’d probably like that shower first.”
A shower would be heaven — or as close to heaven as she’d just been in that bubble of her and him.
“A shower would be nice,” she said, looking around.
The little bungalow was one big, open space with a tiny bathroom, no kitchen, and no shower. Boone motioned through the double front doors. They were wide open, making the inside of the cottage seem as fresh and airy as the beach. She stepped onto the porch that wrapped around the front, surveying her surroundings from the top of three steps. A striped hammock hung on the porch, along with an antique glass fishing float. A flagstone walkway led to the beach, just a few steps away. A bamboo rack to the left held a couple of surfboards and a sun-bleached towel.
“The shower is right there. I brought you a fresh towel,” he murmured, suddenly very much a little boy.
She took it, wondering if that was a blush on his cheeks. God, he was cute — cute as in your-body-belongs-on-a-poster cute, and cute as in puppy-dog cute, though she couldn’t explain exactly how those two combined.
She followed his gesture. To the right side of the house stood a stone wall shaded by lush plants with big, waxy leaves. Something silver glinted, and she stepped closer. Was that really…? Wow. It really was a shower. A gorgeous outdoor shower that promised half her worries would be solved just by stepping in.
Boone mumbled something about privacy and hurried over to the beach, keeping his back turned. Nina stared for a second, biting her lip. The man was essentially a stranger. Was she really going to trust him not to turn around?
He stood facing the sea, and the hard set of his shoulders was the same as his face the night before: all promise, all protection. No fooling around.
Nina bit her lip, looking at him. Well, the shower was half hidden by foliage. And if she showered fast…
Flicking the water on and testing it with one hand, she found it warm and soft — much softer than the salt water crusted on her skin. She tugged the knot on her bikini, slipped off the bottom half, and stepped in. The shower head was huge, making the stream of water so broad, it felt like standing under a waterfall in an island paradise. And wow, did it feel good — even better than sleeping in Boone’s huge, homey bed. The light touch of her hands on her body was comforting, too, though the dirty part of her mind had all kinds of bad ideas, like inviting Boone over to do her back. Her front, too.
He could do me all over, her inner vixen said.
In the distance, Boone kicked at the sand and cleared his throat. Nina chastised herself, splashing water as she tried to trade dirty thoughts for more innocent subjects, like how lucky she was to be alive. Boone hadn’t said a thing, but the bump on her head was all the reminder she needed that someone had tried to kill her the previous night.
Bit by bit, the soap cleansed more than just her skin, and the vanilla-scented shampoo felt like liquid silk in her hair. By the time she forced herself out of the shower and wrapped herself in the fluffy towel, she felt human again. Ready to face whatever harsh trials life threw her way.
“You all set?” Boone called, still facing the beach.
“Yes.”
He turned and ambled up. “Perfect. I’ll just get you…”
His words slowed as he came closer, and his eyes locked on hers. And there it was again — the magic bubble closing in, cocooning them away from the world. His eyes glowed indigo, and though Nina knew it had to be a trick of the light, she was mesmerized. Those eyes were so deep, so honest. So desperate for something.
A drop of water slid from her hair to her chest, gliding slowly between her breasts. The heat pooled in her body, and every breath felt deeper, slower. Heavier, like a great truth was about to be revealed. A great dam of words built in her mind, though none of them made sense and she didn’t utter a sound.
“Boone?” a voice boomed from the distance, and they both snapped around. “You coming?”
Boone gave himself a little shake before calling back. “Be right there.”
Nina pulled the towel higher — right up to her chin, hiding behind it like a shy schoolgirl. A good thing, too, because it felt like she’d been seconds away from dropping the towel and inviting Boone into her embrace. God, what was wrong with her? And what was up with him? Boone was all laid-back and easygoing on the outside, but underneath, the man was pure intensity. All raw, animal power that called to her, body and soul.
“I’ll get you a shirt,” he mumbled, brushing past her, up the three stairs.
She dried quickly and slipped her bikini back on. It was all she had, and suddenly, she felt lower and lonelier than she’d ever felt before. Then Boone bounded out of the bungalow, filled with a new burst of puppy-dog energy, and held up a blue T-shirt and the Hawaiian print sarong that had been draped over the couch inside.
“What do you think?” The animal side of him had disappeared, and now he was all surfer dude with a huge grin and and mischievous eyes. “I think you’ll be more comfortable in these than in the other stuff I have. Unless you like camo shorts.” He winked, sticking a thumb in the pocket of the cargo cutoffs he wore.
“I think these are more my style,” she said, wrapping the sarong over her bikini bottom, then pulling on the T-shirt. It was three sizes too big, so she twirled a corner and tied a knot at one side.
“I think so, too,” he murmured as his eyes bounced away, then back to her, then away again, as if he really did like what he saw. And when she finger-combed her hair, he nodded as if looking at a princess or fashion queen instead of a castaway.
“Lunch time. You hungry?” he murmured, ever so softly.
Starving, her inner voice purred.
She moved her lips a few times, struggling to answer. “A little,” she said, managing to sound casual despite the heat building in her cheeks.
Boone grinned, and when she gazed into his bright blue eyes, she felt lost — and found — all over again.