Friendly Fire (The Echo Platoon Series, Book 3) (8 page)

His clever reasoning put a crack in her argument. If she weren't careful, she would lower her guard and let limerence persuade her that what they felt was real. Even worse, Jeremiah himself wanted to convince her that love was an inspiring and enduring force.

Confusion assaulted her. "I'm sorry, I don't know if this is a good idea."

"What?" He cocked his head. "This?" He gestured at the cruise ship under their feet and the ocean spread out before them. "Or this?" He gently stroked his thumb across her lips, teasing her with the promise of more to follow.

She turned her head away to avoid his tempting touch. "I need to think about what I'm doing." Her voice wavered with uncertainty. "I'll see you." Pivoting on her sandals, she hurried to the steps, all the while hoping that he would chase after her and reassure her that it was safe to feel this way.

How pathetic was that?

Love wasn't safe. Love wasn't even real. Plus, he was a Navy SEAL. Hadn't she read somewhere that ninety percent of SEAL marriages ended in divorce? And why was she even thinking of marriage when all she'd had in mind was a bit of fun? Knowing Jeremiah's effect on her, she ought to have kept as far away from him as possible.

Hurrying down the stairs, she sent one last glance back at him. He stood exactly where she'd left him, arms folded over his chest, his expression contemplative but not in the least bit discouraged.

* * *

At Emma's disappearance, Jeremiah swung around and faced the wind. She must have picked up that nonsense about limerence from a self-help book when her failed marriage had left her looking for a reason.

Well, damn him for a fool. On top of trying to keep her safe, now he wanted to prove to her she was wrong.

But first he needed to know what the hell was going to happen on this ship. Gripping the rail hard, he focused his energies on trying to see what lay ahead. Envisioning their navigational route, he remote-viewed the Island of Roatan, Honduras, rising from the sea—mountainous and quilted by a tropical rainforest. Was that where the hostile forces would board the ship or were they already here, waiting for just the right moment in which to strike?

The previous night, following a disappointing conversation with the tight-lipped security officer, Jeremiah had searched the ship from stem to stern, poking his nose into places seen only by the staff, looking for the source of his disquiet.

There were a number of Middle Easterners working as part of the crew—mostly Syrian immigrants, part of the recent exodus out of war-torn Syria. But their country of origin didn't, in itself, make them suspect. There were also a number of Africans with Muslim ties on board. But was the mayhem he'd envisioned an act of terrorism born out of an aggressive militant jihad? Or was it a different entity all together?

If he wanted to insist that Tristan, Emma, and her family abort this trip, he needed to have proof that something would go wrong. Oddly, the more he attempted to see what happened next, the dimmer his visions became.

What the hell? Emma's bizarre lecture on the nature of love seemed to have shut down his receptivity. Suddenly, he couldn't pick up any energy—good or bad—coming toward them.

Opening his eyes, he rubbed his tight forehead and muttered a rare curse word.

At this rate, they would be set upon by trigger-happy terrorists, and he would be too late to save anyone.

Chapter 5

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Emma huffed as she peered into the treetops at the zip line fifty feet over their heads. Her thighs still burned from the long climb up to the first staging platform.

"You'll be fine." Juliet, who worked out regularly, didn't sound the least bit winded. Sammy had put them both to shame, bounding up the steps that zig-zagged to the top of a cliff.

Emma caught her sister's arm and squeezed it. "You know, I'm still not fond of heights."

"That's exactly why you need to do this. First you're going to overcome your fear, and then you're going to enjoy it," Juliet predicted.

Emma didn't see how anyone could enjoy herself dangling seventy feet in the air with nothing but a safety harness strapped around her upper thighs. A cold sweat enveloped her. "I wanted to relax on this cruise, not jumpstart my adrenal system."

"You need to jumpstart something," Juliet muttered.

Emma thought at once of Jeremiah and whether she ought to jumpstart her sex life. But how could she do that and not succumb to the illusions associated with limerence?

Jeremiah and Tristan had gone scuba diving in the glorious reef of Mahogany Bay. She suffered a moment's envy—until she remembered there were sharks.

At last, they reached the wooden shelter perched on the edge of the cliff. This would be their launching pad.

"Look, Mom!" Sammy stood on tiptoes at the edge of the platform, leaning her slender body out as far as she could to peer down into the verdant forest below.

"Honey, be careful!"

They had climbed up and over the tops of the trees. A sea of green leaves rolled away from them, edged in the distance by a turquoise ocean. Emma had to admit, the climb was worth the view. A pair of yellow parrots ascended from a gumbalimba tree, flew a short distance, and dived out of sight again. Jeremiah would probably recite a poem if he were there.

As one of the dark-skinned guides explained how the zip line worked, Emma's stomach roiled and her mouth turned dry. Resolving to view the world through her excited daughter's eyes, she watched in silent dread as Sammy, in full harness, stepped free of the ledge and started her smooth descent down the wires, laughing in delight.

Verses from one of Blake's
Songs of Innocence
poems trickled in bits and pieces through Emma's mind.

'When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy /And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; /'
...She couldn't remember the next few lines until,
'Come live, and be merry, and join with me, / To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he!'

Juliet went next. And then it was Emma's turn. Terror ambushed her, turning her queasy. White-knuckling the harness, she fought the urge to scream as the guide gave her a gentle shove off the platform.

She dropped. Air rushed up to greet her, cool and sweet with the scent of frangipani.

The line went taut and the harness caught her, carrying her in a rapid descent over leafy tree tops. The wind caressed her face. Leaves brushed the tips of her sandals. A tentative sense of security returned.

Down the line ahead of her, she could see Sammy leaning way back, angling her face to the sun and arching her back as she surrendered to the feeling of total freedom.

Emma relaxed her grip. Slightly. With a deep exhale, she released her fears and opened her senses to the brilliant greens and the exhilarating freedom that came from being airborne.

Juliet was right. She needed this.

Some experiences are worth the risk
,
she realized. She imagined Jeremiah risking his life day in and day out for his country's sake. No one could accuse him of not living life to its fullest. So what if her heart was at risk of falling prey to an illusion of love? If she let herself spend time with Jeremiah, she would have memories to cherish forever, just like this one.

* * *

"Dude, the reef was incredible. You feel any better?"

At Tristan's sudden entrance into their cabin, Jeremiah shoved the blueprints of the ship under his pillow, but he wasn't fast enough.

His colleague dropped a disbelieving gaze at the printouts. His diving mask had left a pale oval around his eyes and nose.

"What are you doing? I thought you were sick. Don't tell me you're studying for a class!"

Jeremiah chuckled. "You make studying sound like the vilest pastime imaginable." He showed him what he'd been trying to hide. "These are blueprints, not class notes. I'm doing research."

Silence
. "On what?" Tristan drawled out the question.

"I've been getting some hits," Jeremiah confessed.

His teammate groaned. "Seriously? Here, on this ship?"

"Yes. The day we boarded, I saw something."

"What did you see?" Tristan asked on a note of trepidation.

"Men with AK-47s gunning people down. I haven't seen anything lately, though."

Tristan brightened. "That's good, right?" He went to put away his underwater camera. "You've said yourself your visions aren't fixed in stone. Maybe the threat's gone."

Jeremiah considered the possibility and dismissed it. "No, I can still feel it." He glanced down at the blueprints. "And if the shit hits the fan, I want to know the safest place to direct people."

Tristan turned back to face him. "Don't say that, brother," he pleaded. "There's no way any semi-automatic rifles could have been brought on board. Everything went through metal detectors."

"Right, even the crew's possessions." He had found that out from his talk with the security officer. "But I still think there's a way to sneak them in."

"How?"

"I don't know yet. I'm working on it."

"So this is what you did all day? You said you were feeling
queasy
."

Jeremiah looked up at him and stared, feeling a little guilty for lying to his teammate.

"And I can't remember the last time you got seasick," Tristan added, on a note of self-disgust. "Listen, forget that stuff. We're safe, brother. Plus we have a date with two hot women tonight which we'll be late for if we don't hurry."

Jeremiah's heart sank. "Women?" They'd better not be meeting strangers.

"Juliet and Emma. Who else?"

"Oh." His apprehension eased. "Well, why didn't you say so?" Leaping off his bed, he sprinted to the bathroom, beating Tristan to it.

"You prick!" his friend shouted.

* * *

Half an hour later, Jeremiah and Tristan entered a disco-themed bar chock-full of baby boomers. A mirrored ball strobed the parquet dance floor and threw colorful glitters of light on the live band playing the theme song from
Grease
. The lead singer sported a foot-tall Afro, but the rest of the band was Caucasian.

Tristan started across the room. "There they are."

Exultation hit Jeremiah's bloodstream as he spotted Emma.
She'd come
. What's more, her welcoming smile seemed to imply a change of heart.

"Ladies." Tristan pecked both women on the cheek, causing Juliet to stiffen and Emma to brighten in surprise.

Jeremiah wished he had Tristan's confidence. Occupying the only seat left, he stared at Emma's dress—a skimpy coral number that matched the color riding her cheekbones. In the glittering light, her skin resembled the mother-of-pearl lining in a clamshell. A vision hit him without warning—he was undressing her, exposing her creamy breasts to his hungry gaze.

Well, hot damn, what a way to get his visions back!

"How was the scuba diving?" Emma asked them.

"Good," Tristan said, guarding the fact that Jeremiah had stayed behind. "It's not the Great Barrier Reef, but the coral was still impressive."

"You've been to Australia?" Juliet guessed.

"Good on you, mate." Tristan leaned toward Jeremiah with a grin and added, "Nothing gets past her. I love it."

The frenetic notes coming from an electronic synthesizer arrested Jeremiah's attention. He glanced toward the band, eyes riveted to the keyboard player, a lanky man with shifty eyes. The synthesizer drew Jeremiah's thoughtful gaze. Large and made of sturdy plastic and steel, the frame looked capable of housing several AK-47s. The casing would conceal them from metal scanners, which would light up anyway.

Was he getting an intuitive hit or making a wild guess? Either way, the band bore closer scrutiny. But not right now. He'd envisioned himself sliding that dress off of Emma. One way or another, he hoped to make that happen tonight. The devil-may-care lift at the corners of her mouth informed him that something inside of her had yielded to the inevitability of their coming together. Why question the reason when the reward promised to make this night the best one of his life?

* * *

Jeremiah spoke into Emma's ear. "Care to dance?"

The snappy disco beat had just given way to a sultry Lionel Richie song.