Shifting Gears (9 page)

“Now that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Sebastian remarked. He and Mark high-fived above the women’s heads.

Before long, they disembarked into a port filled with more bicycles and insulated boxes. Merchants lined every inch of the boardwalk. They shouted about their amazing finds, bundled on the platform. The more elaborate setups included aquariums stacked ten high to display their fish, still alive to guarantee freshness.

The vast array of creatures had Sloan questioning how anything could be left in the ocean if they repeated this ritual day after day. She fell behind as she examined the contents, picking out animals she’d only seen on National Geographic before. Cuttlefish, octopi, shellfish—they had them all.

Mark waited for her at the end of the walkway. He leaned one hip against a pylon with his arms crossed over his chest. God, he made her drool.

“You okay?” He cupped her face in one hand then kissed her.

“Mmm.” She hugged him tight then took his hand in hers and started walking toward the shops where she spotted Lynn’s bright sarong. “Yeah, hoping none of that goes to waste.”

“I thought the same thing. Lynn told me they release the live fish that don’t sell. But she might have said that to make me feel better.” He shrugged. “She knows that kind of stuff bothers me.”

Sloan beamed up at him. The more she learned about Mark, the more she felt she could be completely honest around him.

They wandered through the open-air market, past the stalls of salted fish and souvenirs. Lynn darted into the spaces, returning with dozens of bags for Sebastian to carry, not that he seemed to mind. Nothing quite motivated Sloan to buy until they happened across a young woman. Quiet, she sat on a stool behind her wares, concentrating on her craft instead of shouting about bargains to anyone who wandered too close.

“See something you like?” Mark slowed to match her pace. They scanned the beautiful shell jewelry together.

When her gaze landed on a set of coordinating necklaces, one long and feminine, the other short and masculine, she didn’t hesitate. “Excuse me?”

She hoped the woman would compensate for her ignorance. With the tourists flooding the island on a regular basis, she might know at least a little English.

When the girl looked up from her work, Sloan smiled.

“How much?” She raised the set in front of her then pointed to the calculator on the table beside a simple metal money box.

The jeweler looked between her and Mark then grinned. “Good for you.”

Sloan and Mark turned to face each other, their gazes locked. Whether she was talking about the necklaces or their new relationship didn’t matter.

The woman was right.

She punched a number in the four-operation calculator then spun it around. Three Hong Kong dollars.

Before Sloan could dig out her wallet, Mark beat her to it. He handed the woman a twenty then pointed to a pair of matching earrings and a bracelet. “Those too please.”

When the merchant attempted to give him change, he refused.

“Thank you.” He waved to the vendor before she could insist.

Beneath the spotty shade provided by a banyan tree, he gestured for Sloan to turn around. When she complied, he swept her hair from her neck then fastened the shell clasp. She spun in his arms, loving the appreciative flare in his eyes.

“Your turn.” She stood on tiptoes then reached up to secure the strand around his thick neck. What should have been simple knotted twine and strung shells looked gorgeous on him. Rugged, natural and unassuming.

“Perfect,” they said at the same time.

“Jinx.” He silenced her laugh with a scorching kiss.

Sloan couldn’t say how long they indulged but it seemed like mere seconds before Sebastian’s call cut through the haze of longing surrounding her. “There you two are. We’ve been searching up and down the market. Figures, you’re more interested in making out than hunting trinkets.”

“Sorry.” Mark had to clear his throat a few times before he could say more. “What’s next on the agenda?”

“I want to research the boatbuilding yard and the pirate’s cave but that probably means there’s no time for Pak Tai temple if we’re going to grab dinner on the beach before heading back.” Lynn scratched the attraction off her list.

“We could split up,” Mark suggested. “Not that I don’t want to hang out with you guys, but if it would help for the book, Sloan and I could check it out. You know, take some pictures and make notes for you to include.”

“You would do that?” Lynn clapped her hands but settled down after a moment. “You don’t have to. I know you don’t get too many breaks. If you want to hang out at the beach and relax, that’s fine. I understand.”

“Really, I don’t mind if Mark doesn’t.” Sloan respected him for helping his friends. “I’d love to see a temple. What should we know about it?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s the site of an annual bun festival that celebrates deities who protect the island’s inhabitants from the plague. In the early nineteenth century, locals believed the plagues were retribution for the evil deeds of the pirates who lived on the island. It’s supposed to be exquisite.”

“I think we can handle that.” Mark nodded.

“Well, there is the pesky part about it being inhabited by ghosts.”

“I don’t know, now I’m scared.” Sloan smiled. “I’ll assume they’re friendly ghosts.”

“If you see one, don’t wait to find out, okay?” Lynn laughed.

“I promise.” Mark crossed his heart.

“All right, kids, let’s get going. Meet at Tai Kwai Wan beach at, say, four o’clock?” Sebastian glanced at Lynn. “Is that long enough?”

“Depends on how many times they stop along the way to sneak a quickie.”

“Who cares about them?” Sebastian winked. “How many times are
we
going to stop for a quickie?”

“Ever done it in a pirate cave before, big guy?”

“Arggggg.” He lunged for Lynn.

She tossed a map to Mark then took off toward the boatbuilding yard. “See you guys later! Make sure you put sunscreen on any of your exposed parts!”

After consulting the chart, Mark led Sloan toward the peak of the island.

“Handy having a navigator along on vacation.” She rested her head on his side, enjoying the weight of his arm around her waist as they strolled.

“Not something most people consider but thanks.”

“I bet more women than you think have appreciated your skills.” Sloan forced the truth between gritted teeth.

He didn’t respond, content to enjoy the brilliant sun and their closeness. She didn’t blame him. Hindsighting wasn’t high on her list of favorite activities either.

They stopped along the way to grab a plate of fantastic-looking shrimp and a couple bottles of local beer, which they inhaled under a striped umbrella as they watched a stream of people pass by. Even in a tourist village, many stared at her and Mark.

They stuck out like a sore thumb, especially with their blond hair. The attention unnerved her after a while and she got to her feet. “Ready to head to the temple?”

“Sure, let me grab another beer for the road. It’s getting steamy out here. You want one?”

“Sure, thanks.” Sloan smiled when he handed her a bottle. She used the condensation gathering on the cheap label to cool her neck.

Mark finished paying then turned back. He groaned when a droplet slid along her throat, and leaned closer to lick the moisture from her skin. She shivered, her nipples hardening against his chest. He dropped a quick kiss on her lips then patted her ass. “We’d better move on before we get ourselves in trouble.”

“Probably true.” Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about having him for dessert as they wound their way through the town.

They came to a crossroads in a residential neighborhood, turning toward the temple. A basketball court filled with kids adjoined the ancient monument. The juxtaposition struck a chord deep within her. How many children had grown up here, lived and died while the weathered fu dogs guarding the sacred space held eternal watch?

“Damn, that’s something, isn’t it?” Mark murmured below his breath but she caught it anyway.

“Spectacular.” She entwined their fingers as they approached the building together. Magnificent enamel dragons perched on top of the red roof’s peak. Inside, murals lined the walls and incense wafted on the breeze, perfuming the temple with its musk.

“You know…” Sloan immediately regretted breaking the silence.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“No. Tell me, Cougar. Please?”

“It’s just that…well, I don’t usually believe in things like ghosts.” She winced, hoping he didn’t think she’d gone nuts. “But, here, in this place, it’s easy to imagine lost souls wandering these halls.”

A bell tinkled in the distance, probably shifted by the breeze off the water.

“Sometimes I feel like a ghost.”

His confession surprised the hell out of her.

Sloan stopped midstride, their linked arms forcing him to face her. “Why do you say that? Because of Sebastian?”

Mark nodded. “I’m a shitty friend, I know. But sometimes it’s like I’m invisible.”

“I see you.”

“You’re the first woman who’s ever done that.” Mark traced her eyebrow with one finger. “You make me feel special. I’m not the kind of guy who has to be the center of attention, you know? Most of the time I’m glad it’s Sebastian in the limelight. I could never handle that circus day in, day out. But, for once—with you—it’s nice to be the main event.”

Sloan squeezed his hand, urging him to bend down so she could hold him. “You’re the man I want, Marco. I haven’t been this excited to spend time with someone…ever.”

“Me either.”

They smiled into each other’s eyes before she broke the hushed intimacy.

“Have we seen enough for Lynn’s notes?” She whispered in his ear, “I think it’s time for one of those quickies.”

“How about a longie instead?”

“Deal.”

Hand in hand, they walked so fast they nearly jogged along the narrow streets toward the beach. Less popular than Tung Wan, which sat five hundred feet from the ferry pier and boasted the fabulous Warwick Hotel, Lynn had assured them Tai Kwai Wan held more natural beauty along with greater privacy, a combination Sloan appreciated.

As they rounded a bend in the road, the gorgeous landscape before Sloan stopped her in her tracks. The hill they stood on tumbled down to a wide, sandy beach. The greenery gave way to the sea on either side, as if the jungle hugged the ocean. In the distance, windsurfers darted beneath neon sails. Here and there, on the fringes of the beach, tiny bungalows on stilts dotted the coast.

Mark turned around to examine her. “Sorry, Cougar. It’s getting hotter by the minute. I should have walked slower. Need a break?”

“No. I’m fine.” She laughed. “I’m not
that
old.”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s the view. I’ve never seen something this amazing.”

He didn’t look away from her. “I know what you mean.”

“Stop that.” She blushed.

“How do you feel about checking into one of those huts for the afternoon? You’re going to burn to a crisp out in the sun all day.” Mark ambled closer, trailing his fingertips across the tops of her breasts. “You’re so…white.”

“Thanks.” Sloan burst out laughing. “I think. Though I’d kill for your Italian genes.”

They headed for the giant, hand-painted sign with
Rental
scribbled in English below a string of Chinese characters. As they walked, they talked about their vastly different upbringings. She waited on the beach while he ran up to the stand.

Sloan could imagine Mark sailing along the Amalfi Coast, getting into trouble with Sebastian. They had a lifetime of experience as heartbreakers despite their youth. The unsettling flutter in her chest, which recurred each time she looked at him, made her afraid she would join the ranks of their casualties when the brilliant run she and Mark had going crashed and burned.

A worry for another day.

She couldn’t help but reflect his grin as he neared her with a pile of towels and a bamboo bucket brimming with drinks.

“I scored the last one. Over there.” He pointed to the most secluded bungalow. “Left a message for Sebastian and Lynn to join us when they arrive.”

Though he couldn’t have meant it the way it sounded, Sloan’s imagination ran wild after the encounter on the train. When he caught the lascivious cast to her smile, he didn’t freak out or make excuses for what he’d said.

Could he want to explore further?

Did she?

The thought had her desperate for something to cool her down. She kicked off her sandals, scooped them into her hand then sprinted for the shore, yelling over her shoulder, “Last one there has to be on the bottom.”

The lack of a shark net at this beach made Sloan a little nervous, but she figured there were plenty of other tasty-looking people wading farther out than their bungalow. She splashed through the rising water until she was hip-deep. The crisp waves refreshed her, but they didn’t do much to douse the flames building inside her.

By the time the ocean reached her waist, Mark overtook her. He managed to keep the towels dry and the pail out of the surf for the last twenty feet or so to their sanctuary. The straw structure had three walls. One covered the back, facing the beach, and each of the two sides. The front remained open, though sheers had been tied on either side for some privacy while maintaining the view from inside.

He lifted the supplies above his head, tucking them beneath the gauzy material, onto the floor of the bungalow, then returned to gloat.

Before he could start, she swung her arm and sent a curtain of water splashing in his direction. He shook the mist from his face, his hair swirling like a lush mane. She would have launched a second assault but he chose that moment to whip his shirt over his head and toss it into their hut, freezing her in place.

Her jaw hung open as she studied the flex of his contoured chest and shoulders, leaving her completely unprotected when he lunged for her, knocking them both beneath the waves.

Mark held her close as they tumbled through the jewel-blue water.

So strong, he propelled them upward still linked. Before they crested the surface, his mouth was on hers, kissing her, drowning her in pleasure.