Delicious and Deadly (11 page)

He heard nothing.

Nothing at all.

And that was the problem.

No crickets.

No creatures of the night.

Nothing.

"Oscar, what's happen..."

The ground beneath their feet began to tremble.

The surface water of the lagoon danced.

Now creatures screeched. Fruit bats took flight.

The ground shuddered as a roaring sound filled the air.

"Earthquake?" Emma yelled above the noise.

There was a sharp crack as a tree tipped over, crashing into the lagoon.

Oscar picked up the flashlight, grabbed her hand and they ran.

When they reached the beach they picked up speed.

But the ground juddered, making it hard to keep their balance.

Emma tripped and fell.

Oscar scooped her up, then they both turned to stare with wide eyes at the ocean.

She'd never seen anything like it.

It was as if the water had been sucked too fast into the darkness.

"Shit. Fuck." Oscar said.

Then he raced up the hill, still carrying Emma, for the castle.

His strong legs ate up the ground and she hung on, with her arms tight around his neck, for dear life. Just as they headed for the main doors an alarm pealed, the sound so loud they were disoriented for a moment.

A white-faced Connie Hendrickson stood at the entrance.

"Tsunami warning. Quickly, get inside," she yelled at the top of her voice.

Once they were safely within, Connie slapped a button on the wall and the sound of metal doors sliding down to cover the doors and windows of the castle filled the air.

The lights flickered once, before the roar of another generator could be heard.

Emma didn't have time to panic, didn't have time to be scared.

She was on her feet, Oscar's hand in hers as he ran through a service door and up three flights of stairs to Emma's apartment in the tower. They burst through the doors to find candles still burning making shadows dance against the walls.

"Get dressed," Oscar roared over the din of the alarm.

And then he turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" she screamed, heard the fear in her voice and didn't give a damn.

There was no way in hell he was leaving her alone.

He moved into her, shouted in her ear,

"Down to the gym to grab a set of pants and a top. Get dressed."

And he was gone.

Emma dragged a shaky breath into her lungs.

The air was too hot, too close.

And she realised that all the French windows were closed and sealed, too.

God, they were trapped in the castle, with no way out.

The unremitting shriek of the tsunami alarm made it difficult to think.

Tsunami.

Oh God, she couldn't get her head around it.

On legs that were not quite steady, Emma raced into her bathroom, wound a towel around her hair. Moving fast, she dragged on loose yoga pants and matching vest. Jeez, if her heart didn't calm the hell down, she'd have a heart attack. Nothing bad was going to happen, she told herself, holding on to logic and common sense with her fingernails. The castle walls were feet thick and it was built on top of a hill. Plus, she had a man who was used to getting out of tight situations at her side.

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Oscar returned.

He wore grey sweat pants and a T-shirt of black cotton with the Eden logo emblazed on the front.

And he carried a large cool box.

"What's that?" she yelled just as the alarm stopped. "Thank God, my ears are ringing."

He looked over, checked her face, her eyes, and then he smiled.

"That's my brave girl."

Was he kidding?

She was effing terrified.

"I don't feel brave. What's going to happen?"

He opened the lid on the cool box, took out a selection of cheeses, boxes of crackers, fruit. And a bottle of champagne dripping with condensation.

"We're going to eat."

Emma decided Oscar had lost his tiny mind.

"How can you possibly think of food at a time like this?"

The way her voice went too high had him bite down hard on his bottom lip.

"You think this is funny?" she snarled.

"We're quite safe."

Oh, yeah?

What did he think she was, an idiot?

She'd
felt
the earthquake.

She'd seen with her own eyes the ocean being sucked away.

Her ears were still ringing from the damned alarm.

And how dare he talk to her as if she was five years old.

Annoyance felt a hell of a lot better than cold fear.

Emma folded her arms, cocked her hip.

"You said, and I quote,
'Shit. Fuck.'
Grabbed me like a caveman and ran as if the hounds of hell were on our heels. So do not mess with me, pal. I want the truth." Her voice wobbled. She swallowed audibly and took a shaky breath. "Are we going to die?"

Oscar placed the champagne back in the cool box, closed the lid, and moved towards her.

She stared up into his eyes as cool hands cupped her face.

"We're all going to die. But we're not going to die today."

Emma watched candlelight reflected in those dark chocolate eyes and read the truth.

"Why did they lock us in like this?"

"A precaution. When Theodisius built the castle, guest safety was a priority."

Emma supposed that made sense.

"So, what are we going to do in the meantime?"

When his mouth twitched and his eyebrows rose, she pouted.

"Is sex all you think about?"

"With you, absolutely." No matter how hard she tried, her mouth curved. Oscar grinned. "And there's the dimple!"

He grabbed her and placed a hard kiss on her mouth.

She pushed him away, but not before her hand squeezed his bicep.

"You just like showing off your big guns."

His eyes went wide. "You love my big gun."

"Will you stop with the constant innuendo?"

"You just don't want to admit how you feel about my big gun."

She had to laugh.

"Shut up. I'm starving."

"Coward."

She was a coward.

Emma had no problem admitting it.

After everything she'd been through in her life, and no matter what Oscar said, she was convinced they were going to die by drowning.

Something must have shown in her eyes because he placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her into him.

Then those hands slid up to cup her face, to tilt her head back.

His head dipped towards her.

Dark eyes searched hers, forcing her to pay attention, to listen.

"We are not going to die today."

A combination of dread, fear and nausea battled for supremacy in her belly.

"How do you know?"

Oscar's eyes twinkled into hers.

"This is Eden. A magical place. We're here, together, so we should make the most of it."

Oh, he was smooth all right.

"The reason we are here, together, is because my cousin and your best friend set us up."

His wide smile was a thing of beauty.

"I know. And magic is about to happen."

Emma couldn't drag her eyes from his.

"Is that a euphemism for sex?"

"Oh, yeah."

Temptation whispered in her ear.

What harm would it do to make love with him?

She wanted it, the release, the intimacy, the merging.

But now they both fell silent as she stared up into his face.

Her lips parted.

Oscar dipped his head.

"Kiss me," he murmured.

Emma pressed the palm of her hand against his strong chest, seeking the solid thump of his heart, such a strong beat. A sweetly intimate experience that had the liquid ache deep in her belly tighten exquisitely.

She closed her eyes, lifted her face to his and then his mouth on was on hers, a soft brush, and then another, so easy and warm. Then he kissed her properly, a beautifully gentle kiss, almost a benediction, that had tears prickle behind her eyelids.

This kiss was so unlike what they'd shared before. There were no demands. This time it was slow, so tender, so sweet and meltingly wonderful. Then he cradled her head in his hands, tipping her back for better access to her warm and willing mouth, and his tongue tangled with hers.

Dear God, she could kiss him, just like this, forever.

He pulled back a little, and stared at her face.

"I love you, Emma," he said as he backed her into her bedroom.

"I know you do."

Oscar smiled, his eyes flashed.

"Say it," he whispered as he slowly moved her towards the bed. "Say it, Emma," he breathed as he lay her down. "Emma," he groaned as he captured her hands in his, pinned them lightly above her head, his fingers twining through hers.

Her heart was beating too hard against her ribs.

She wanted to say the words.

She did.

But they were stuck hard and fast in her throat.

His eyes never left hers, and now they narrowed.

"Marry me."

If he'd tossed a bucket of ice water over her, she'd be less shocked.

She went too hot and then too cold.

Emma shook her head.

"Don't ask me that."

Something like impatience flashed in those eyes now.

"I
am
asking you. And I want an answer."

He rolled away from her.

For an eternal moment he stood next to the bed staring down at her before pacing back and forth.

Her mind was reeling.

One minute they'd been kissing as if they couldn't get enough of each other. And now they were eyeing each other like two rabid dogs trapped in a cage.

Emma moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

He deserved the truth.

"No. I don't want to marry you."

She saw the blow hit him, saw the hurt. And like the warrior she knew him to be, he withstood both. His eyes were on fire now.

"Why?"

"I don't want to get married to anyone," she said as plainly as she could. "I don't want what we've found ruined by a piece of paper."

"Marriage won't ruin us, baby. It will make us stronger."

"How do you know?" she yelled, terrified for him, for herself. "You've never been there. I have. And I'm not going through it again."

It was obvious he was struggling with his temper, she could tell by the way his hands fisted in the pockets of his pants, by the way his jaw clenched.

"Because one son-of-a-bitch hurt you, you truly believe that I'll do the same?" he yelled right back.

Did she?

Emma closed her eyes knowing full well that Oscar would never hit her.

Never.

But that didn't mean she was in any hurry to get married.

Didn't he understand that she needed time?

Tears burned her throat, stung her eyes.

"No, I don't think you'll hurt me..."

She sobbed and immediately he came to her.

Emma found herself sitting on Oscar's knees as he rocked her like a baby.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me to understand." He tilted her face up to kiss away her tears. "Don't cry, baby. It's killing me. I'm sorry I shouted at you."

"Shouting's okay. Shouting clears the air. It's just..." She took a shuddering breath. "I don't want to hurt you. And I can see I've hurt you. Please... can we just not talk about it now?"

"Emma, baby. We need to talk about it now. I love you. I need you in my life."

Miserably, she shook her head.

"I can't do it."

"Why?"

She closed her eyes as she tried to organise her thoughts.

"Because I need to do what's right for me."

His brow creased as he tried to work through what she meant.

"Talk to me," he said.

Now she rose and moved towards the bathroom and turned to face the man she loved more than life.

"All my life I've always followed the rules. Whatever my mother wanted me to do, I did it. Her expectations for me have always been high. Go to the right school. Get the right grades. Put my dreams of writing aside to learn how to run a home. Marry the right man. So I did. I did all of it. And it was hell."

Her legs felt weak, so she sank to sit on edge of a chair.

"When things went wrong, she made it clear that it was my duty to keep my husband happy. I'd made a promise before God and needed to keep that promise. She would accept nothing less. When the arguments started with Richard and I realised that I'd made a pact with the devil, she refused point blank to listen to me. Even accused me of being frigid or why would Richard turn to other woman for affection? When I told her I was getting divorced, she was so cold, so scarily civilized, in the way she said I was no longer her daughter."

"You made a mistake and she punished you for it. That's on her, Emma. Not you."

"Yes, I know that. But I also made myself a promise. Never again to live my life by someone else's rules."

"You were hurt because of something bad that was done to you, not something you did or deserved to happen to you."

He moved when she shook her head, caught her face in his hands. "Let go of the hurt, Emma. Let me in."

"I can't." Now she clamped her hands on his wrists. "You say you love me, so for you the next logical step is marriage because that is what you want... your rules."

"It's got nothing to do with rules," he said as he freed his wrists. Now those hands gripped her shoulders and gave her a shake, forcing her to listen. "It's what's right for us. I want to share my life with you. Love you. Give you my babies. We have a chance to make a wonderful family together."

She shook her head, pushed him away.

He simply refused to understand.

She didn't want a family.

"I'm in control of
my
future. And if that makes me selfish then I'm sorry, Oscar. But marriage and children are not in my plans," she said, and wondered why she felt freezing cold when her body was too hot and her hands were damp. "You either take me as I am, or you don't take me at all."

The ring of the telephone interrupted what he'd been about to say.

Oscar lifted the receiver and listened to Connie tell him the worst was over, that the wave was not as bad as expected and they were safe. Although his cabin had been flooded, it was still standing. The sound of metal shutters rolling had Emma rush to the French doors and open them to a new dawn just breaking over the horizon.

After he informed Emma that they were safe, she turned to him.

He couldn't read the look in her eyes.

What the hell did it matter anyway?

His heart was in pieces, yet again.

"I think you'd better leave now. I have work to do," she said.

"Emma..."

"I need time to finish my book. I need time to think."