She cupped his face. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he felt a shock of anticipation churn through him to match the storm outside.
“There’s just one thing I have to do first,” she said.
Before he could ask what, she closed the gap in one jerky motion that had her purse banging into his side, and kissed him.
Definitely not what he’d have expected from her. What he expected was that after last night, she’d keep her distance. But he’d underestimated her, and he sure as hell underestimated what her kiss would do to him.
It made him forget. Made him forget he was unhappy, trapped. Made him forget the storm, that their lives were in danger, made him forget everything but her, this. Her lips on his felt like the simplest, sweetest, warmest, most moving kiss of his entire life. Because of it, he didn’t have a chance in hell of keeping his own distance, so he gave up and hauled her closer, sliding his tongue to hers, running his hands down her body and back up again, an event that created another first-an instant tidal wave of heat within him.
He could feel her heating up, but then, far before he was ready, she ended the kiss.
“I didn’t want to regret not doing that,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave with any regrets at all.”
Her cheeks were red, her mouth still wet, and though he knew it wasn’t easy for her, she met his gaze straight on.
She was the bravest woman he’d ever met.
“No regrets then,” he agreed. His voice came out all low and rough and just a little bit hoarse, as if he were ill.
And he was, he had to be, given what he did next.
He yanked her back up against him, swallowing her little cry of surprise with his mouth. He figured the rough movement would either terrify her or piss her off, and he half waited for her to gut check him with that ridiculous purse, maybe drop him to the floor.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she let out the sexiest little murmur he’d ever heard, and shrink-wrapped herself to him. He heated up even more. If he got any hotter, their clothes were going to spontaneously combust and fall off. Her fingers were in his hair, her tongue in his mouth, and he lost himself in the sweet, hot, giving feel of her as she arched against him, panting for air as if maybe she hadn’t come in far too long and he was the only man on the planet who could get her there. Some half-baked idea began to take root, that he was that man, that he could take her right here, right now, and show her.
Before he could, she once again pulled free and stared up at him, breathing like a wild woman, weaving slightly.
He wondered what she saw when she looked at him like that, as she slowly brought her fingers up to her swollen, still wet mouth, as if shocked to the core that she’d let him kiss her like that.
That she’d wanted it.
“Dorie.” He didn’t say anything else, just her name, because it occurred to him he really had absolutely no idea what to say.
Turned out, it didn’t matter, because she turned and walked away. She moved toward the stairs, her hair wild, her orange life vest not matching her pink tank top, her purse hitting her side with each step, her slight limp doing something to make his stomach hurt like hell.
Truth be told, it wasn’t his stomach, but his heart.
ELEVEN
Dorie sat with the others in the wind-ravaged salon, pretending that half the windows weren’t blown out along with all the loose furniture, and that they were all fine.
Dark had fallen hours ago, which didn’t lessen the sense of helplessness. But with the loss of sight, her other senses kicked in.
And so did the memories.
She tried like crazy not to think about that big old smackeroo she’d given Christian, but holy crap, it’d been a helluva kiss.
The mother of all kisses.
She looked over at Andy, who sat there big and strong, worried, looking a little worse for wear because of it, and felt a stabbing sense of guilt even though she hadn’t once been able to have a decent conversation with him without her tongue swelling. The fact was, he’d expressed an interest in her and she’d led him to believe she shared that interest.
She’d wanted to share an interest, but she hadn’t been able to keep her mind-or her lips-off Christian.
The wind whipped through, bringing the rain with it, but they were all already as wet as they could get.
Just outside the door sat the life raft; Christian was going to prepare it as soon as he found Bobby.
The implications of that made her feel sick, so she went back to thinking about the kiss. The wow kiss. She covered her burning cheeks and glanced at Andy again.
A little rumpled, a little unnerved, he turned to her and smiled, concern in his eyes along with his affection for her.
She’d definitely lost her mind.
But she had to set aside the thought because she had a more pressing one-drowning. She was having some trouble getting past the mind-numbing certainty that each breath could very well be her last. She really wanted to close her eyes and pretend she wasn’t here. Wanted to go to sleep until the nightmare ended. Wanted to bury her head in the sand and be a coward.
After all, that’s what she did, she let life go by.
She was damn good at it.
How else to explain being nearly thirty and having nothing to show for it but a box of sketch pads? Why had she put off her hopes and dreams in order to play it safe?
“Think the water’s cold?” Cadence asked in a small voice.
Dorie forced a smile. “Nah. The South Pacific waters are notoriously warm.”
At that, they all turned their heads and looked out the window at the churning ocean. Though the rain and wind had begun to let up, everything was still black; the water, the sky, the spray in the air…
Despite her reassuring words to Cadence, Dorie shivered, because it all looked cold as hell. “I think it’s getting better out there.”
Cadence gulped. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Andy slid his arm around her. “Keep your eye on the horizon, remember?”
“Hard to do when the horizon keeps bouncing up and down like a Mexican jumping bean.”
“I wonder exactly where we are?” Brandy frowned out at the darkness.
Dorie opened her purse and pulled out a map of the South Pacific.
“You carry a map in your purse.” Brandy shook her head. “You really needed this vacation, didn’t you?”
“You have no idea.” She spread open the map, and they all stared at the multiple groups of islands off the coast of Australia, which were really hundreds of individual islands.
“So… we’re near here?” Brandy put her finger on Fiji.
“Not necessarily.” Andy shook his head. “I heard the captain say we’re way off course.”
Again they all took in the myriad of islands.
“We could be anywhere,” Cadence said quietly.
True. Dorie’s finger ran over the clusters: Polynesia, Micronesia, Melanesia… “Maybe we’re close to Tahiti.” She tried to sound cheerful. “I always wanted to see Tahiti. We’ll probably land somewhere really cool and laugh this whole thing off.”
“Yeah, like Bora Bora.” Cadence’s voice sounded weak and uncertain. “I heard Bora Bora is exciting.”
The boat creaked and let out a loud, seemingly human groan as the ocean rock and rolled beneath them.
“It’s going to fall apart,” Brandy whispered.
“Oh, no. No falling apart. I’m not ready to die.” Andy drawled this in a normal tone, as if by doing so he could make everything right again. “I have lots of baseball left in me, and next year, a contract renewal.”
“Money isn’t going to matter to you if you’re dead,” Cadence pointed out.