My Greek SEAL (11 page)

Margie frowns and treads water, gripping her stomach.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m not feeling the best. I’ve got a cramp in my belly. I think I ate a bit too much at lunch.”

“Maybe you should get out and rest for a while,” says Eros.

“Yes, I think I’d better,” says Margie.

Eros and I swim alongside her until she safely touches the ladder.

“I hope you feel better,” I say.

“You might want to stay inside the cabin. You’re getting sunburned,” says Eros.

“Thanks, I’ll do that.” She takes a step up the ladder and then glances back to look at us. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Eros and I tread water until Dmitri says it’s okay for us to continue.

“It looks like we’ll be alone the rest of the swim, “ says Eros. One of his thick dark brows arcs up.

What he’s just said is so obvious, it sounds almost silly, but my face flushes and my heart beats faster. “Yep. I guess so.” To disguise my discomfort I cover my eyes with my goggles. “Ready?”

“I’m always ready.”

I’ve always hated that phrase, said too often by men who rubbed me the wrong way. “Oh, God, now men say that in Greece?”

“Do Americans own the language?”

“Don’t get yourself all in a huff. That just wasn’t something I expected you to say.”

“I learned many useful American phrases when I was doing my BUD/S Navy SEAL training in San Diego. Now let’s get back to swimming. The boat is ahead of us and Dmitri’s waving his arms like a maniac.”

“Okay.” I swivel around and bury my head back in the water, stroking through the water and breathing every three strokes. The
Ionian Goddess
is at least thirty feet ahead of us. Within a few minutes, Dimitri has slowed the boat enough that it’s beside us and shielding us from boats that might not expect to encounter swimmers out here in the middle of nowhere.

Soon Eros’ lean body is beside me once again, stroking it’s way through the water. The sun shining through the clear water casts shadows and brilliant undulating patterns across his muscular, slightly hairy chest and arms. I could never get enough of looking at Eros’ body. The way his muscles in his shoulders, chest and back move and flex as he swims with smooth, athletic grace is such a turn-on. The way his broad torso tapers in to taut, tight abdominal muscles is the most distracting sight I’ve ever seen. I follow his thigh muscles and calves down to his large feet, which thrust through the water, leaving a trail of turbulent water behind him. Studying his powerful body and the smooth motions of his stroke torment my heart.

I’ve never even dated a guy who liked to swim. I’ve fantasized about it, though. We’d train in the pool together and sometimes we’d talk at least as much as we’d swim. We’d venture to exotic places for vacations like this or drive to southern Cal to hang out at the beach or catch waves on a boogey board.

I look at Eros swimming and feel another warm surge inside my chest. I can’t believe this. I’ve barely known him for two days and already I’m falling for him. First the angst and attraction. Then the sex. Now I’m getting all turned on watching him swim at close range. Am I a complete nutcase or do other women get their hearts tied up in knots over such things? No, I have to be the only one. This sudden burst of feelings is completely irrational. But still...This is the most romantic experience I’ve had for years. Swimming just inches away from a handsome man, my body prickling with excitement while the sensual fingers of the seawater tantalize my bare skin.

Mmm. The sensual water brings back so many delicious flashbacks of last night. That water flowing over my skin could be his hands skimming across my naked flesh. My heart rate races at the thought. I have to have more of him. Swimming along with Eros is not only arousing, it also makes me feel more connected to him. Does he feel what I’m feeling?

As if he’s answering my thought, a smile raises the corners of his thick, sexy lips before a stream of bubbles flow out from them.

I laugh out loud and my deep laugh bursts through the water. The attraction, the connection, the sheer joy I’m feeling at this moment; it’s all so amazing. I’m overpowered by the urge to shout I love life, I love the sea and, Oh, my, God, I think I’m even a little in love with Eros.

Swimming along in the sea, I can forget about bills, my lost job and what I’m going to do next. Out here, I feel free. Like I can do whatever I damn please.

I’m never going back to the States. Okay, so maybe it’s an absurd idea, but I have no one or nothing tying me down. My old life was empty. I don’t want to go back to it so I won’t.

I’ll relish living where there’s less stress and fewer people. Honking horns or beeping phones won’t distract me anymore. I won’t worry about what time it is or get in a rush for stupid reasons.

Tonight I’ll write about what it feels like to swim in the Ionian Sea. And then submit it to some magazine editors. I imagine my name in print in a travel magazine, the article title typed up in a bold font surrounded by brilliantly colored photos of Greece that appeal to readers, but can’t do justice to this actual place. I’ll describe the sensual sensation of the water, the tickle of sea breeze on my wet skin, the mingled scent of pine and ocean that tinges my nostrils whenever I swim near the shore.

I raise my head at the sound of Eros’ voice. He points toward a cave just inland of where we’re swimming. “You want to swim in and take a look?”

“Sure. Let’s go for it.” I stroke behind him toward the cave. I take a few breaststroke kicks as I enter the mouth of the cave, keeping my gaze down so I can soak up the view of the majestic white rocks that are angled in neat layers, powdery white or pockmarked with holes.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me shifts, stirring up sediment and transforming the clear water below me into a murky cloud. Eros must have brushed the bottom.

I raise my head, looking for Eros. But all I hear is the hollow echo of water dripping from the ceiling of the cave and my ragged breathing. Where is he? A faint rumbling breaks into my thoughts. It sounds like a distant plane taking off. How can that be? We’re in the middle of nowhere.

Chunks of limestone from the cave’s roof splash into the water. “Ouch,” I cry as a small piece of rock hits my head. The waist-deep seawater around me is surging, sloshing, and splashing me in the face. Alarm bells clang loud inside my head. I’ve never lived in a seismic zone, but I don’t need any more evidence to convince me shaking ground and falling rocks mean earthquake. Dmitri’s words about plate boundaries and buckled limestone layers race through my mind. Shit. I have to get out of here. Fast.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I swim with frantic speed toward the cave mouth. Once I emerge in the safety of the bright sunshine again, I turn my head right and left, looking for the
Ionian Goddess
. I see only a wide expanse of empty ocean. Shit. Panic constricts my throat. Where is it? What am I going to do out here all alone? I start to hyperventilate. Minutes ago, I felt safe and free and alive. Now, my mind is as turgid as the sea around me. I suck in another ragged breath and start talking my way through the problem.

“The earthquake might cause a tidal wave. I should swim to shore and get to a higher place,” I say to myself between gasps. “Oh, my God. Oh, my, God. Stop. It will be okay. You have to stay calm.” I don’t think I’ve ever had a panic attack before, but this sure feels like one. My mind races as I think about whether the boat will come back and if there’s anyone on this island or it’s completely deserted. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” I suck in a strained breath and exhale. I suddenly realize I’ve been treading water and haven’t moved an inch. “Come on, Maya. You have to get out of the water.”

I swim toward a rocky beach on one side of the cave. Once the water shallows, I wade toward shore. I walk up the stony beach and step my way up the white limestone slope. “Ouch,” I cry out as the sharp limestone bites into the bottom of my bare feet. I grimace and take another tentative step. “I can deal with this.”

The whole situation still feels like a nightmare. If only I could just wake up. But pain continues to knife through the soles of my feet. I raise a foot and my thigh muscles tremble as I struggle to stand on one leg. Blood drips from my foot onto the white limestone. Damn it. I want to sit down, place my head on my knees and cry. Women like me don’t do emergencies. Comfort and predictability work much better for me. There’s no way I can deal with this. What choice do I have? I take a deep breath and try to console myself. “It’ll be okay, Maya. Just take this situation one step at a time and you’ll be fine.”

“Wait. Don’t move. Your foot’s a mess.”

I whirl around and see Eros standing in chest deep water below me. Without thinking, I leap down from the rocky prominence where I’m standing onto the stretch of sand and dash through the water toward him.

“What are you do—“

Worries about the awkwardness of last night fly from my mind. I’m not alone out here! I throw myself into his arms and cling to him. “Thank God, you’re here.”

“Now that’s the kind of greeting I like.” He pulls me in closer and threads his fingers through my wet hair.

My fingers dig deeper into Eros’ broad muscular back. I don’t care that he knows how desperate I was to be rescued. All I care about is feeling safe. And I feel amazingly safe nestled in his arms. He’s so close, I can feel every hard contour of his body; the taut mounds of his chest and abdomen, the firm muscles of his thighs. “That was so scary. The rocks were falling and the ground was shaking. And you weren’t there. When I saw the boat was gone, I really panicked.”

His thick lips brush over my cheek and then my mouth. I taste the seawater on his lips. I close my eyes with every intention of getting a better taste of him, of nibbling on every millimeter of those sexy full lips, but his lips shift away. “We have to get to a high place fast.” He gazes at me so intently. His dark eyes radiate as much deep emotion as his words. “I’m so sorry, Maya. I never should have left you. I swam off to see if I could find the boat. By the time I came back, you were gone.”

I know now, he does care for me. And we’re together now. I’m not alone out here and now this whole thing doesn’t seem so scary. “It’s okay, Eros. You’re here now.”

He grasps my hand and leads me toward the shore.

I limp a little when sand pushes into one of my injured feet.

“We need to cover your feet.” His voice sounds so tender. “He unclips a small waist pack and holds it in one hand.

“That limestone is brutal. I only took a couple of steps and it cut the hell out of my feet.”

He grips my arm tightly. “Sit down and I’ll take a look.” With his support, I lower myself to the ground. He sits beside me and I raise a bleeding foot.

“That doesn’t look good at all.” He unzips the backpack. He pulls out a first aid kit and flips open the lid. With precision and skill, he cleanses my wounded feet and then bandages them. Then he meets my gaze and says, “That should help a little. I wish we had time for other things.” His gaze wanders over me and his tongue slides over his lips.

God, those lips. So full and almost pouty and sexy. I crave the sensation of those amazing lips on my mouth. I see a gold flash in his dark eyes, the tightness in his jaw. The man wants me. Even in the middle of this crisis, he finds me distracting. I find him all too distracting, too. My heart thunders inside my chest. I fight to restrain myself from reaching for him. “Yeah, me, too.”

He reaches for my face, strokes a hand over it.

I close my eyes. A sigh escapes my lips. His touch feels so good on my skin. Why is he doing this? We need to get moving.

I hear the sound of a zipper.

I open my eyes. Eros holds a pair of reef shoes in his hand.

“I had these stashed in my bag in case of an emergency.”

His voice sounds stern and he’s wearing a business meeting expression. It didn’t take him long to go from distracted to back on task again. Now I need to think about something other than all the hot tingles lingering on my cheeks. “That’s great.”

“Right now I need to get you someplace safe.”

“Okay then,” I say stiffly. I take the shoes from his hands and slip them on my feet, wiggling my toes in the empty space at their tips.

“I know they’re too large for you, but they will protect your feet.”

“I’m sure they will.” I bite my lips. If only I could regain my focus. Instead, I’m obsessing about all sorts of crazy shit. Like whether he finds my body a major turn on or just okay. I want him to like it. I want him to like it a lot. I don’t think my body’s half bad. I’m lean and toned from swimming. And most men tend to notice my C cup breasts. On the downside, I don’t have much of a waist. And my butt and abdomen have expanded enough recently that I have to hold my breath and lay on my back to get my size eight pants on since I adopted the ice cream and wine diet. I jump up when I see that Eros is already standing, his backpack slung on his back. “What about your feet? You’re not wearing shoes.”

“That won’t cause me any difficulty. I walk everywhere barefoot so I’ve got thick calluses on my feet. But yours are so tender.” I imagine I hear a hint of desire in his voice. He glances at me and then his gaze darts away. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time.” He climbs up on the shelf of rock above us and reaches for my hand.

I grasp his hand and hobble up on the limestone, grimacing. Even with the shoes on, my feet are still tender.

“Are you okay, Maya?” Eros’ eyes are wide with concern.

I know we’re in danger and that Eros is accustomed to putting others’ safety ahead of his own. If I don’t move my butt a tidal wave could wash us away. Even if it did, he would probably still talk in that calm voice he’s been using. He doesn’t seem to panic under stress like me. Just having him near has dropped my stress level from a ten to maybe a five. I take another step up to where he is standing and the empty toe box of the reef shoes slaps against the stone. “I can make it, don’t worry.”