Dangerous Waters (15 page)

Knowing it was silly, Megan still closed the bathroom door behind her. Lord knew he'd seen everything she had, but the passionate, impulsive actions of last night didn't keep her from feeling self-conscious now.

By the time she emerged in her Speedo suit, Mac wore athletic shorts and was just shutting his gun and shoulder holster in a suitcase that he shoved under the bed. Half of Megan hoped it would stay there; the other half was nervous that they would be stepping out the door so vulnerable. She just said, "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Swim?" He shrugged. "I don't mind getting wet as long as my feet are on the bottom."

Down at the lake, Megan dropped her towel on the bank and left her rubber thongs beside it. Then she waded in knee-deep before diving the rest of the way. The water was pleasantly cool in comparison to the heat of the afternoon. She came up laughing.

Mac still stood about thigh-deep, looking dubious. Zachary was swimming toward her.

"Oh, no, you don't," she said, fending him off as she swam a lazy breaststroke toward Mac. "Zach thinks I'm a rock he ought to be able to climb on," she told Mac. With her cupped hands, she shot him with a stream of water.

"Hey. Just remember you have to come out of this lake sooner or later, and then you're in deep trouble," he warned.

Megan laughed and emerged from the water. Now the hot sun on her wet back felt good. "Can you swim at all?"

"I can float on my back, dog paddle a little." His mouth quirked into a smile. "Though I'm not in Zach's class."

"Who is? He can probably beat me." She took a deep breath. "You want a lesson?"

Alarm subtly changed the lines of his face. "Hell, no.”

"Come on, what do we have? A couple of days at least?" She splashed him again and coaxed, "I can have you swimming by then. Next time someone drops you in the lake, you can save yourself."

"That was the first and last time," he said stubbornly.

Megan admired the drops of water glistening on his sleek brown chest. "This is your big chance. Don't blow it. How many people have a chance to get taught by the best?"

A reluctant smile softened his hard mouth. "Modest, too."

She stuck out her tongue. "Just advertising my services."

Megan let him think about it while she chased Zachary across the narrow cove and watched kids splashing at the shallow tip that was roped off. Not her responsibility, but the lifeguard in her couldn't help an occasional assessing glance.

When she returned to Mac, she found him back-floating, his eyes closed. She would have thought he was relaxed if she hadn't noticed how tight his arm muscles were. His eyes opened when her wave lapped at his face and he stood up quickly.

Seeing his wary expression, Megan just said, "Hi. Guess what? I won."

Mac glanced past her to the retriever who'd almost reached her. "Tough on his pride," he observed. "Maybe you'd better let him win once."

Did Mac's pride not allow him to take the chance of appearing foolish in front of her? she wondered. It wouldn't be surprising, considering how macho most men seemed to be. And this one was a cop.

But Mac surprised her. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Really?"

His voice was grim. "I don't like being scared of anything."

Megan accepted his motivation with a nod. "Can you face-float?"

"For about two seconds, until I panic."

"Take my hands," she said, holding them out. As he obeyed, their gazes met. Megan tried to communicate reassurance, but she didn't know if she succeeded. Determination was all she saw on Mac's face.

When she stepped back, he eased into a float, lasting considerably longer than two seconds, although his grip on her hands was so hard they hurt. Finally he reared up and shook his head, spraying water like Zachary had.

"Good," she said, smiling. "Now I'll show you how to kick."

He nodded, and she recognized the same unusual quality that had made the rescue possible: an iron will stronger than any fear. She wondered if the same will could overcome emotional fears. Could he make himself take the risk of loving someone, even though in his heart he must believe he'd be betrayed yet again?

*****

Mac made love to her that night with the same single-minded intensity he'd brought to the swim lesson. He was tender, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough, passionate to the point of desperation. With kisses he drank in her cries, but except for an occasional involuntary groan was silent himself. She knew when his body shuddered with release, but he gritted his teeth to hold any sound in.

Megan wondered about that silence and what it meant. What was it she always told her kindergarteners? Talk to each other. Don't wonder why someone is mad at you; ask. Tell your friends what you feel.

So she kissed his chest, which happened to be the closest part of him, and said, "How come you're so quiet?"

"Right now?" He sounded surprised.

"Well ..." Now she'd gotten herself into it. "I mean the whole time. When we're...you know."

"Are you blushing?" He lifted her chin and his amused eyes took in her hot cheeks. "You are. What's the matter? Can't you say it?"

"What should I say?"

"We were making love." His eyes narrowed as something showed on her face. "Or isn't that how you look at it?"

"Speak for yourself," she said tartly. "I'm just not used to talking about it. I'm only a kindergarten teacher. Our school district doesn't start sex education until fifth grade."

Mac laughed. "You haven't talked about sex since fifth grade?"

Megan punched him. "You're evading the subject."

"What's the subject?"

"Why you're so ... so quiet."

He brushed her hair back from her face with a gentle hand. "Just because I don't tell you how beautiful you are doesn't mean I'm not thinking it. You have the perfect body. Feminine..." He lightly cupped her breast. "Strong." His hand stroked over her flat stomach. "Just enough softness, but not too much."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Well, she didn't mind hearing compliments from him, but what she really wanted to know was how he felt. But she had said all she dared. She should be grateful he wasn't the kind of man who used the word love easily, trading it for sex. What if he did smile at her with that wicked, sweet grin and say he loved her? Would she believe him?

He felt her sigh. "Bored already? Jeez, lady. What's it take?"

Forget love, Megan told herself. Enjoy the moment. It wouldn't last long.

"Um." She pretended to think. "How about going skinny-dipping?"

"One lesson wasn't enough for you?"

Megan sat up and tucked her feet under her, then grabbed a pillow and very casually hugged it so that it hid most of her from the neck down. "I won't teach you a thing," she promised.

Mac crossed his arms behind his head. Tufts of light-brown hair in his armpits struck her as very sexy. And wasn't she far gone when she found armpits attractive, she thought ruefully.

"I don't know if I'm quite ready for night swimming," he said. "Especially after my last experience.  I kind of like to have an idea where the bottom is. Speaking of which..." His hand snaked out to deftly whisk her pillow away, "I don't mind keeping an eye on yours, too."

Megan gasped and dove for the pillow, which he tossed across the room. When she jumped up, he grabbed her and rolled her under him. Laughing, he pinned her down. "Hiding?"

She made a face at him. "I was being modest."

Mac kissed her, hard. "I like you better when you're being immodest."

She began, "I'm never..." but he kissed her again and her hands crept up around his neck.

When he lifted his head, Mac was breathing hard, and Megan had forgotten what they were arguing about. "Like that," he said roughly, and kissed her again.

*****

"What we need," he announced the next morning, "is someplace that sells books."

"And a toaster," Megan mumbled, as she stirred the scrambled eggs and waited for hot water to boil before she could have a cup of coffee.

"A little under the weather this morning?" he asked with infuriating good humor as he pulled a T-shirt over his head.

"I never get enough sleep when you're around."

"I didn't hear you complaining."

She wrinkled her nose and started dishing up the eggs. "Well, now I am."

Mac's voice dropped a note, becoming husky. "Remind me tonight."

"Right," she said, knowing how likely that was. Megan poured two cups of instant coffee and then plopped the plates of eggs and bacon on the small dinette table just as Mac sat down. "Lunch is your turn," she announced. "And we really need some more groceries."

"Like I said," he agreed, "we can find a store. As long as it has a decent selection of reading material. Not that you bore me..."

She melodramatically clasped her hand over her heart. "Surely not."

He grinned, his face utterly relaxed, his eyes downright friendly. He'd changed, Megan thought, as though he had set aside his internal guards when they fled Devil's Lake. Was he usually like this, when life was a little less stressful?

The coffee helped unfog Megan's mind right away. "What do you do for fun when you're home?" she asked out of the blue.

"Read." Mac swallowed some coffee. "Take in a baseball game. I play city league basketball. Run to stay in shape." He shrugged. "I'm in one of those Big Brother programs. I have this kid named Raul, who's a real hellion. We've gotten along okay since I pounded him at one-on-one. He couldn't believe somebody so old could still put a move on him."

Megan nibbled on a piece of bacon. "Does he know where you are?" she asked softly.

Mac shrugged again as though indifferently, but he also turned his head and gazed out the small-paned window at the lake, the hot mug of coffee cradled in his hands. "I...let him know I'd be gone for a while. He understands."

"You sound like you miss him."

The crease in one cheek deepened. "Yeah, I guess I do. God knows why. Half the time his mother calls me to bail him out of hot water. He cuts classes, gets caught smoking in the hall... His dad's in the state pen for armed robbery. But you know, Raul's a good kid. Despite everything, he keeps a B average, says he's going to college. He's stubborn. I'm betting he makes it."

With Mac on his side, Megan would bet on it, too. Assuming Mac could ever go home again. She wondered if Raul missed him, if he was cutting more classes because Mac wasn't there to nag him, if he'd be tempted to do something stupid with a group of friends because Mac wasn't there to care. Part of her had been wishing this small idyll would last forever, that she and Mac could just linger here, responsibilities to others forgotten. But the picture her mind had formed of Raul, mouth sneering and dark eyes full of hero worship, killed her secret reluctance to face the future.

She had a life to return to, too. Even if she suspected it would never be quite the same.

"Can we really go grocery shopping?" she asked.

"Hm?" Mac turned his head to look at her, his expression abstracted. She wondered what he had been thinking about. Remembering. On a stab of apprehension, she wondered for the first time if there was a woman, back in that other life.

She bit her lip and studied his face. "Did you have a girlfriend?"

His eyes sharpened. "What brought that on?"

It was her turn to shrug with pretended indifference. "Your expression."

He grimaced. "Did I look like I was pining away? No. I haven't had a 'girlfriend' in a while. My job tends to make it hard."

"Did you ever think about quitting?"

"Frequently." He took a bite. "What's with the questions?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I guess this is just the first time we've had a chance to, oh, seem normal. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be nosy."

"I don't mind." He smiled, reminding her suddenly of one of the monstrous little boys in her class who looked sweet while planning something awful. "Gives me a chance to ask the same questions."

Megan pushed her plate away. "Is there anything you don't already know about me? Maybe what brand of toothpaste I buy?"

"Oral-B. Bubble gum flavor, no less. I put away the groceries last time, remember?"

"I like it," she said defensively.

"Yeah, sure." There was that grin again, sexy and dangerous. "Must be undue influence. You spend too much time with five-year-olds."

Megan stuck her tongue out at him.

Mac saluted her with the coffee cup. "I rest my case."

"Can we drop it and talk about something important? Like whether we can go grocery shopping?"

"Sure we can. After you answer the rest of my questions."

What did she have to hide? But for some reason she felt like a teenager in her first job interview. She slouched more comfortably in the padded booth and tried to look nonchalant. "Okay. Shoot."

His intensity showed even while his tone was lazy. "How come no boyfriend?"

"Would you believe, not much choice in Devil's Lake?"

"No."

She looked away. "I'm not exactly Miss America. Men aren't lined up to break my door down."

Megan sensed a change in the atmosphere even before Mac leaned forward and said tautly, "Do you know how badly I wanted to splinter your damn door every night? You can't tell me I'm the first man who has felt like that."

Her smile wavered. "Yeah, I can tell you that. I mean, I dated in college. But lately? I have lots of friends who are men. None of them even knock on the door."

"Bullshit."

"True." She made herself meet his gray eyes. "When I was a teenager, I wasn't flirting with boys. I was staring at a black stripe in a swimming pool. I think I missed a stage in there. Flirting 101. I just don't know how to do it."

"Sweetheart." Very deliberately Mac put his mug down and levered out of the booth to stand. He held a hand out to her. She let him tug her out of the booth, somehow ending up half sitting on the table with Mac standing between her legs. "Sweetheart," he said again, "you do it just fine. Trust me." He bent his head and kissed her, his mouth lingering. Then he lifted his head and said huskily, "I'd give you an A."