Sterling's Reasons (4 page)
This took her by surprise. Granted, she didn’t know much about him yet, but she didn’t figure him for a quitter. “I don’t like that answer.”
“Why, because it puts a short end to your story?”
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Joey Light
She was slowing down because she realized he was tiring. “No, I just didn’t figure you for it.”
He stopped and jerked her around by the ann. “Just what did you figure me for? Why do you act like you know everything there is to know about me? Talk, or we go back and you stay away from me altogether.”
She bent over and took a few long breaths. “Not supposed to stop dead.
Slow down first and then walk until your pulse and breathing are normal.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and straightened her up. “You’re making me mad. You don’t want to do that.”
The feel of his hands biting into her flesh was not all unpleasant. His eyes were cold and barely controlled as he looked deep into hers.
“I’m no threat to you, Joe MacDaniels. So stop acting like I am. Are you going to be suspicious of everyone you come in contact with, or just me?”
He continued staring as his breathing became normal. He searched her face for an answer. Found none. “I don’t believe you. You were sent here by somebody to do a story or to dig for more information…or simply to keep an eye on me.”
She shook her head. “Consider yourself that important, do you? Look, I recognized you the minute I saw you. That’s all. I’m tired of defending my being here. I’m here and I’m staying. Get used to it.”
He released her then, slowly. “I’ll find out what your game is, lady. I was a cop, a good cop, for a long time.”
She turned and headed back toward the cottages. “And you’re going to let it all go for nothing? Oh, look, this shell is perfect.”
She bent to pick it up and examine it in the failing light.
His voice softened involuntarily. She took such great pleasure from such small things. “It’s from my personal collection,” he teased automatically. “I keep 28
Sterling’s Reasons
them scattered out here so everyone can enjoy them.” His dark, troubled eyes found hers as she smiled easily up at him.
“Can I have this one, Mr. MacDaniels?” She held it toward him for his approval and played out the game.
He looked down at her hand and then back to her eyes. He merely folded her fingers over the shell with his own and let their hands stay linked for a moment.
“You can have it.” If he’d been burned he could have stood the touch much easier. He shoved his hand in his pocket and turned away.
As they began the walk back she couldn’t help but think about the sensation that traveled from their joined hands in her heart. She knew this man needed a friend, and she was going to be that friend, no matter what he wanted.
Hands linked behind her, Sterling ventured, “I love old movies, you know, Bogart and Bacall, Tracy and Hepburn. I brought along
Casablanca
and
Key Largo.
My cottage is equipped with a TV and a VCR. Feel like watching them with me?”
“I don’t watch television.”
“This isn’t television. This is art.”
“It’s that stupid romantic stuff.” They were nearing the cottages now and they could see the lights they left burning. He looked up at his and then over toward hers.
“You think romance is stupid?” she questioned incredibly. “Oh, well, maybe it is,” she shrugged, “but there’s a lot of adventure in the films, too.”
“Don’t need adventure. I need sleep and vodka. And quiet.”
“All right. Maybe tomorrow night. We could go to that place for dinner again. I really loved it, Mr. MacDaniels. Thank you.”
He was standing close. She could feel the very maleness of him. Sterling wanted to reach out and stroke his hair and promise him everything would be
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Joey Light
okay, but she knew he would shake off her touch and she wasn’t at all sure it would be.
“The name’s Joe.” Sometimes it took less energy to give up or in or whatever.
Anything to stop this senseless chatter. “I suppose it’s going to be a lot easier on me if I just say, fine, dinner tomorrow night…but I pay, we make it only long enough to fill our stomachs and be done with it.”
She clapped her hands together happily. “Okay, we can switch off nights.
But I can cook when I want to. One night I’ll fix something for us here. We can sit on the deck and watch the sea gulls fly and the sun go down. I like to play poker.
Surely you do that.”
He still had that maddening, sulky look on his face.
She wanted to see the smile again. “You really think you can come in here and alter my life? You’re trying to tell me my solitude has just been sabotaged. I don’t think so.”
“Oh, no. I like my alone times, too. I just hope they coincide with yours. For lunch tomorrow I could fix a tuna casserole and we could go swimming afterward.”
“Why do I feel like a kid at camp being given directions by the counselor? I still don’t buy your flimsy story. But it’s enough for tonight.” When she turned to go, he caught her hand. “Don’t trust me. Don’t drop that innocent look on me and
don’t
push me too far.”
She returned his direct stare. She pretended to think a minute and then touched her finger to his cheek for a quick second. “Thanks for the warning.” She ran toward her cabin and up the stairs.
He was plucking at her heartstrings and he wasn’t even trying. Oh, she hoped she wasn’t going to start liking this guy too much. Sometimes she got very attached to the people she worked with and it made it so hard to go back to New York.
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Inside the cottage she changed to a nightgown and took one doughnut on a paper plate to the couch. A flip of the switch and she was into
Key Largo.
Glad for the diversion, she stretched out and got lost in the plot.
When she woke up, the picture on the TV was lines and fuzz. Glancing at the clock, she found that it was midnight. Groaning because she had missed the last part of the movie, Sterling tramped over and clicked off the TV and VCR.
Turning out the last of the lights, she went to the deck and leaned on the railing, breathing deeply of the sweet sea air. The breeze had picked up and it was cooler now, but it felt good. She stood and watched the moonbeams dance off the ocean crest.
Ten minutes later she saw movement on the beach. She heard the faint click of the lighter and saw the glow at the end of the cigarette. In the flash of light, she could make out his face. Lord, what was he doing walking around this late at night? He had been exhausted when she left him.
Fear struck her heart. Could he be thinking of doing something harmful to himself? She was sure a man in his position would think of it and in the short time she had spent with him she figured him to be the type of man who could follow through with anything he decided on. Without thinking about how she was dressed, she hailed him.
“Joe. Hey, Joe. A midnight stroll is just the thing. Wait.”
She heard his groan but ran down the steps anyway. Mr. Ramsburg would throttle her if anything happened to this guy before she had time to help him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? It’s the middle of the night, you’re not dressed, and you’re with a stranger at the edge of nowhere.”
“Oh, yes, well, it’s dark. I get restless sometimes, too, you know. Besides, you might be a stranger, but I don’t consider you dangerous.”
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Joey Light
In one quick movement he had her in his arms. “Consider me dangerous.”
Her breath was jerked from her. In the age-old movement, he lowered his mouth to hers in a crushing kiss. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t want to. His mouth was warm and demanding and taking without asking. She had never been kissed like that before. She could have struggled. She could have tried to stop him. She could have. But she didn’t. She leaned into him and, pulling her trapped arms free, wrapped them around his neck.
It was all flash and color. The bones left her body and she gave in to the dizzying effect his lips had on hers. There was no sound, no ocean, no breeze.
Only him. She felt so fragile in his strong arms, then powerful and then weak. He tasted of salt and tobacco, and too much vodka. Only the touch of his lips did this to her? Only the play of his mouth on hers? The moan she heard was her own as he broke the kiss.
“Damn you.” He didn’t usually act like this. What was she doing to him? It was her fault, he decided. “It’s only because I’ve wondered what it would be like to do that since you burst into my living room. I didn’t ask you to come here.
Now get back up those steps and go to bed before I take you to mine. And about tomorrow. Forget it.” He pointed with the fingers that held the cigarette. “Stay away from me.” He didn’t need to know who she was or what she was up to. He didn’t need her around to make him feel worse than he already did.
He disappeared into the night and she heard the soft creak of the wood as he jogged up the stairs.
A sudden wind came off the ocean and chilled her thoroughly. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself and headed for the warmth of her cottage.
Her mind was whirling and her heart felt strangely empty. She couldn’t sort out her feelings. She wanted to follow him and tell him to do it again so she could analyze this. But she knew he wasn’t to be played with so lightly. He was alone.
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He was a virile man. She was a woman, and he had needs. This wasn’t exactly the type of thing she had envisioned happening, but now she had to admit, she, too, had wondered what it would be like to be in his arms. Now that she knew, she wasn’t at all sure she should have found out.
Maybe she was going about this all wrong. She shouldn’t let her emotions wander. Of course that was easier said than done when it had been a habit all her life to go with what pleased her the most. She had figured it would get her into trouble now and again. She looked out to sea, brushing the long hair up off her neck to let the breeze play on her skin. She was cold but had no desire to go indoors. Sometimes she thought best on her feet, and it was so quiet here and yet so loud. The noise of the ocean was in stark contrast to the silence on the beach. It played around her ears.
She had to get him to relax, to trust her. He had to open up with his feelings and his desires for her to inform Mr. Ramsburg what would be the best thing for him. She let her hair float down around her shoulders. It would be morning soon, and she wanted to watch the sunrise. She had to get some sleep. Turning to go back up the stairs to her deck, she thought she saw the faintest glow of a cigarette from his deck. She looked again but saw nothing.
In the short time she knew Joe MacDaniels, she didn’t figure him for the type that would stand in the darkness and watch a woman who thought she was alone. Why not? she thought. Bogart would have. Tracy would have. She took the steps two at a time and ran into the house. She was suddenly cold.
Joe hunkered against the chill night air. He watched her sprint into the house and then turned his gaze to the dark abyss of the sea. There was nothing out there…it was lifeless, it was empty, it was endless.
He pitched the cigarette over the deck and into the darkness. Casting one more look toward her cottage, he whirled on his heel and walked back into his
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Joey Light
house. It was just as lonely, just as bleak in there. Joe walked to the refrigerator, through the darkness from memory, and took the bottle of Tanqueray Sterling from the freezer. He poured a shot, watched the frost form on the glass, knocked it back, and tossed the empty glass on the counter. It rolled, balanced, and then fell on the floor.
34
Chapter Three
It was the middle of September and the war of hot and cold air produced some hellish thunderstorms. When Sterling woke to thunder and lightning, she dressed quickly and ran to the deck. The water was rolling and pitching and smashing on the beach, very close to her steps. She loved it.
The heck with the sunrise. This was better. Much better. Feeling the chill in the air, Sterling turned back into the cottage to pull on a flannel shirt and jeans.
Barefoot, she raced down the steps to stand dangerously close to the foaming sea. It was barely light, the time of day when morning and night battled for release. The icy spray of the water showered her. Lightning streaked across the sky, low and bright. A few seconds later the thunder rolled and cracked. The wind was fierce. Smiling, she stretched her arms up, turning her face to the oncoming storm.
“That’s right. Stand out there like some damn lightning rod. Hope for a direct hit.” Joe shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
Though his voice was buffeted around by the wind, she heard him and laughed. Turning to look at him, she shouted back, wondering why he would care, “Isn’t this wonderful?”
She watched him stomp down the steps, a frown drawing his brows together. The instant he reached her, he jerked her by the arm and dragged her back up the stairs into his cottage. This woman was not only infuriating, she was addlepated.
Joey Light
“That’s really stupid. Only a fool would stand on the beach during a thunderstorm. You need someone to protect you from yourself. Watch the damn storm from in here. At least that way I’ll know you haven’t decided to take a boogie board out and ride the waves.” He flicked his cigarette hard enough to send it out the doors and over the deck.
“I’ve only seen this once before.” She stood by the sliding-glass door and watched as she talked. “I was a child and I was with my parents. Farther south, though, I think. I’d forgotten how beautiful it could be. And frightening.”
“If it’s frightening why were you standing out there, right on the edge of it?”
