Stranded With Her Ex (13 page)

Still reeling from the encounter, he sat at the edge of the bed. With trembling hands, he pulled his briefs back into place. Their sex life had always been inspired, and he prided himself on having a certain amount of stamina. He’d never gone off at the drop of a hat. Then again, he hadn’t had a two-year stint of abstinence since losing his virginity at the tender age of fifteen.

She came up behind him, placing one hand on his shoulder and touching her lips to the center of his back. After what passed between them this afternoon at Dead Man’s Beach, not to mention her near-drowning this evening, all of his emotions were on edge. He lurched up from the bed, feeling the hot sting of tears in his eyes once again.

Sean was glad Daniela was letting go of her grief and working through her aversion to touch. Really. And he understood why she felt safe with him, her former husband. But he just couldn’t do this with her, not on a purely physical level.

He dug through his belongings, taking out a fresh set of clothes. After changing into them, he tossed her a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. While she got dressed, he gathered all of their wet clothes, including her lacy panties, and shoved them in his laundry bag, as if getting rid of the evidence.

Only then did he summon the nerve to look at her.

She was sitting on the lower bunk, arms crossed over her chest, her petite body swimming in his extra-large clothes. The legs of his sweatpants covered her feet and then some, and the short sleeves of his T-shirt hung down past her elbows.

Her big brown eyes seemed to take up half her face.

There was a scrape on her cheekbone that would probably look worse tomorrow, and another, smaller mark on her chin. He hadn’t really noticed them until now, and that made him feel like a prize bastard.

She was hurt, and vulnerable; he shouldn’t have touched her.

Clenching his jaw, he grabbed a bottle of Tylenol from his pack. Shaking a couple of pills into his palm, he handed them to her, along with the cooling water.

She took the painkillers without complaint.

“I’m going to check the railing,” he said. “Do you need anything?”

Raising a trembling hand to her hair, which was drying in wild tangles around her face, she said, “I’d like a warm bath, actually.”

Nodding, he left the room, walking down the hall and into the bathroom. He checked the tub to make sure it was clean before he plugged the drain and turned on the faucet. The water ran clear and hot, luckily.

Not asking her permission, he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

She allowed him to help her out of his clothes, shivering a little.

“Stay in here until I get back.”

Naked, she slipped into the warm water.

Sean didn’t mean to look. He certainly didn’t mean to look so long, memorizing every dip and curve of a body he’d never stopped fantasizing about. He didn’t mean to clench his hands into fists, or make a sound of quiet desperation.

She rested her head against the tub and closed her eyes, biting down on her lush lower lip.

He knew what she was remembering. More than once, he’d begged her to touch herself while he watched. Usually, she laughed off his requests, chiding him softly. But, on one memorable occasion, she’d pulled herself up out of the bubble bath, soapsuds clinging to her gorgeous body, and done exactly what he’d asked.

“I’m going to check the railing,” he said, hoarse.

“You mentioned that already.”

“Right.” Clearing his throat, he left the bathroom.

Downstairs, everyone seemed to be immersed in their own projects, as usual. Brent was editing the day’s footage, and Jason was writing an accident report. Elizabeth must have gone to her room, but Taryn was sitting at the table, in front of her laptop.

“Is Daniela okay?” she asked.

His blood, which had only just cooled, began to boil again. The thought of Taryn pushing Daniela filled him with an almost insupportable rage. “She’s fine now,” he said in a mild tone. “Come into the kitchen for a second.”

With a small frown, she closed her laptop and rose from her chair. Jason gave him an assessing look, but he didn’t interfere.

The instant Taryn stepped into the kitchen Sean trapped her against the pantry door, putting his face close to hers. “If you ever touch Daniela again,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, “I will drag you outside and throw you to the sharks myself!”

She winced, trying to sidestep him. He wouldn’t let her. “Elizabeth lost her balance,” she said through clenched teeth. “She fell forward, into my back, and I went flying into Daniela. It was an accident.”

Sean eased up on her. “Elizabeth hit you first?”

She broke away from him, her eyes flashing with anger. “Yes. If I was going to push anyone off a cliff, it would be you, you stupid jerk.”

Sean moved back a step, rubbing a hand over his face. He took a few calming breaths, trying to regain some sense of self-control. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, regretting his actions. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Whatever,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

His fear for Daniela hadn’t abated, and he was still curious about the push. Walking out of the kitchen, he glanced upstairs. When pressed, Brent had revealed the story about Elizabeth’s father, a struggling tour guide who’d come to a bad end. Sean didn’t think Elizabeth had any reason to attack Daniela, however.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jason warned. “I’m going to talk to Elizabeth myself, and employ a bit more finesse.”

“Finesse? Seems like that tactic earned you a slap earlier.”

His eyes darkened. “Mind your own business. Taryn said it was an accident, and Elizabeth apologized repeatedly while you were
busy.
”

Sean struggled against the urge to grab Jason by the front of the shirt and haul him outside to knock some sense into him. He wasn’t taking this situation seriously enough. “Daniela said the railing was loose.”

Jason straightened. “Really? It felt fine yesterday.”

“I’m going up to the tower to check it.”

Brent picked up his camera. “I’ll go, too.”

“No,” Jason said, setting his paperwork aside. “You stay here with the girls. I want to look at it myself.”

Although Brent seemed disappointed, he agreed. He was probably upset that he hadn’t caught Dani’s near-drowning on tape.

Sean and Jason put on their jackets, stepping out into the stormy night. A hard rain had begun to fall, pelting their hoods and shoulders. He hoped it wouldn’t wash away evidence that the railing had been loosened by human hands.

They ascended the hill quickly. Near the summit, there was a rash of muddy footprints, left during Daniela’s harrowing rescue. Sean bypassed that area, still shaken by the images of her lifeless body, the feel of her chilled skin.

A few feet up the path, the safety railing was hanging at an odd angle, swinging out over the precipice. The base of one post was splintered. When Sean knelt at the footing and righted the post, it stayed in place.

To the average passerby, it looked solid. And yet, the barest touch would topple it again.

While he was down there, he inspected the muddy earth, running his hands over its wet, pebbled surface. There were many small rocks, as always. Loosened by the rain, they made the path even more dangerous.

Sean stood, shaking his head. The post could have splintered when Daniela hit the railing. There was no clean cut in the wood, no definitive evidence of foul play. But together with the boating incident, it was an odd coincidence.

Sean and Jason made their way down the path in grave silence.

“I’m going to call the Coast Guard,” Jason said when they arrived at the base of the hill. “Is your cell phone working?”

He took it out of his pocket and turned on the screen. No bars. “I never get service in weather like this.”

“Me, either. I’ll call from inside.”

“They won’t send anyone tonight,” Sean predicted.

“No. Maybe tomorrow, weather permitting.”

Sean contemplated the howling wind and hammering rain, and doubted it.

“I’ll sleep downstairs,” Jason added. “Nobody’s getting through the front door on my watch.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. But what if the threat was already inside?

Sean had to consider the possibility that one of his colleagues was responsible. Now that he’d calmed down, he couldn’t believe Taryn was a coldhearted murderess. Elizabeth seemed prickly, not psychotic. And Brent was just a starving artist. If he wanted to collect shark attack footage, he’d have better odds with a daring group of divers.

“I’ll talk to Elizabeth tonight,” Jason said, his expression stark. “Tomorrow, we can take turns snooping around. Check the rooms.”

Sean nodded. At this point, he didn’t trust anyone—not even Jason. The only person he felt comfortable with was Daniela, and he wasn’t going to leave her side until she was safe and secure, back on the mainland.

Chapter 13

D
aniela stayed in the bath until the water cooled. Although she was exhausted, her mind refused to relax.

For months after the accident, she’d refused Sean’s touch. She hadn’t been with anyone since the divorce, either. She hadn’t felt like it.

In the past year, her needs had changed. Ironically, she’d missed Sean. She’d been somewhat inexperienced when they’d met, but not so innocent that she hadn’t realized they were dynamite in bed together.

Their chemistry had been electric from the start.

She’d wanted to sleep with him on the first date. He’d kissed her at the doorstep, very sweetly, and she’d been tempted to invite him in. The second date, she had. Her roommate had come home early that night and almost caught them in a compromising position on the couch. Again, he’d left her wanting more.

On the third date, they’d barely made it through dinner. She couldn’t eat a bite. He’d just stared at her. She’d brought him home afterward, and they hadn’t bothered with coffee or a nightcap. She’d taken him straight to her bedroom.

They’d been insatiable, and not just in the physical sense. He couldn’t get enough of her, intellectually. Sean wasn’t a big talker, but he was a great listener. He shared a little and she shared a lot. They’d connected on so many levels.

Over the years, the passion between them hadn’t cooled, but it had transformed into something deeper and more intimate.

Their relationship also had its ups and downs, like any other. She wasn’t crazy about the time he spent abroad. He didn’t get along with her mother—at all. And Sean could be annoyingly taciturn when they argued. In response, she felt overemotional and shrill.

Her main complaint was that he didn’t communicate with her. More often, he showed his feelings in a physical way. If he had a bad day, or a tough conversation with his father or even a week of poor surfing weather, he tended to internalize his frustration. Instead of talking about his struggles with her, he took what he needed from her in bed.

As faults went, it wasn’t the worst one a man could have.

Sexual intimacy had been a strong component in their marriage. Too strong, perhaps. When she was no longer able to provide him that release, they’d faltered. She hadn’t allowed him to touch her. He’d wanted to make everything better with sex. They’d never found a common ground.

They still hadn’t. She wasn’t foolish enough to think the emotional connection they’d made over the wounded seal pup had righted every wrong between them. Although his touch hadn’t healed her broken heart, it
had
triggered the same earth-shattering sexual response she’d felt when they first kissed.

She wasn’t over Sean, and she wasn’t over their divorce. But she was definitely over the period of mourning that prevented her from feeling desire.

Her body was still humming from their encounter.

And he’d barely touched her. One kiss, a couple of quick strokes. God! She hadn’t had sex in more than two years. She didn’t want a whisper of a caress, or a few gentle strums from his fingertips.

She wanted his weight pressing her down. His hands gripping her hips. His hungry mouth all over her body.

She wanted every inch of him, filling her up, all night long.

Smothering a groan, she drained the tub and rose from the bath, her legs trembling. The stubbly towel on her pebbled skin felt like foreplay. She wrapped it around her wet hair and put on Sean’s sweatpants and T-shirt, shivering.

There was a light rap of knuckles on the door.
His
knock. “Dani?”

She opened the door, arranging her features into a cool expression. What she really wanted to do was jump on him.

He kept his eyes trained on her face. “Jason’s sleeping downstairs tonight. I thought you should stay in my room.”

She wasn’t going to argue with him there. “How did the railing look?” she asked, following him into the hallway.

“Suspicious. Jason called the Coast Guard.”

In his room, she sat down on the bunk where they’d just gotten each other off. He shut the door and locked it. Her mind should have been on the ordeal they faced, and the near-drowning she’d just experienced. It wasn’t.

She hugged her arms around herself. “What’s it like here during a storm?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Duration, amount of precipitation, wind speed, wave height.”

She sighed, accustomed to this type of answer from him. His view of the world relied heavily on surfer science. “Is it scary?”

“Yes, it’s scary. And the charter boats stop bringing supplies. If the weather isn’t too bad tomorrow, you can go back to San Francisco.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she said.

His gaze cruised over her, lingering on her cheek. “I want you to be safe.”

She touched her face, feeling self-conscious. There was a nasty scrape from the jagged rocks she’d been clinging to. It was noticeable, but nothing compared to the muscle strain and emotional trauma.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, frustrated by his attempts to get rid of her. She couldn’t leave without finding some kind of closure on their relationship. She knew he was scared, too—scared of taking another chance on her.

“I have every right to be worried.”

Her spine stiffened. “No. You have no rights where I’m concerned. We’re divorced. Remember?”

He made a harsh sound. “Yeah, I remember. How could I forget? The day you signed the papers I went out with Rob and got falling-down drunk. He picked up these two lonely girls, one for each of us. Instead of sleeping with her, I spent the night with my head in the toilet. I don’t know what turned my stomach more—the alcohol I’d consumed, or the idea of having sex with a stranger in some pathetic attempt to forget you.”

The world closed in around them, bringing this moment into sharp focus. Suddenly, she was short of breath. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the one who wanted to split up. Not me.”

“Then why did you file the papers?”

“Because I said I would. Because you didn’t call. Because I thought—” He broke off, cursing. “I thought you wouldn’t sign them. Stupid, right? I’d convinced myself that you would come running back to me, saying you couldn’t live without me. That you’d made a mistake. That you—still loved me.”

The remaining air rushed out of her chest. His words hurt so much, she almost couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t blame him for hating her. She hated
herself,
for what she’d put them through. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling like a broken record. “If it’s any consolation, the decision wasn’t easy for me, either. I thought I was doing what was best. I thought you wanted me to let you go.”

He avoided her eyes. “You should get some rest.”

While she was in the bath, he’d moved her stuff into his room. Her sleeping bag was on the lower bunk. She slipped inside it.

The air had grown cold.

He flipped the switch, casting the room into darkness. She wasn’t surprised when he climbed into the top bunk. His reaction to the aftermath of their encounter, jerking away from her when she’d kissed his back, had spoken louder than words.

With Sean, actions always did.

Although she hadn’t expected him to curl up next to her, or wrap his arms around her, she still ached from emptiness. She needed him so much. Not just his body. His comfort, his love, his acceptance, his strength.

And now she knew exactly how he’d felt, every time she’d pushed him away.