Taken (12 page)

“Sunset.”

“How long did I sleep?” I feel like I’m lost in some kind of time warp.

“You slept all afternoon. So did I.” Your thumb rubs across the back of my hand. “I haven’t slept so well in a long, long time.” You slowly lean forward and kiss me. It’s tender, intimate. It lingers. When our lips part, I take a deep breath, reeling. Do I want intimacy with you? I can’t even accept a purely physical relationship. But I always demand the intimacy first. Nothing is only physical with me.

“I’m going to pack us a picnic.” You kiss me again, quickly this time and dash out of the room.

I collapse back onto the couch and attempt to get my head together. Are you insane, or just badly misunderstood? Am I insane for wanting to be with you? One minute I’m ready to dive in with you, and the next I’m standing hesitant on the shore questioning everything.

Ugh, I’m making myself crazy.

I rub the heels of my hands over my eyes, and my cell phone rings. I jolt to the edge of the couch. My heart beats wildly. My wristlet, with my phone tucked inside, sits on the coffee table beside the box.

It rings again.

Do I answer it? What do I say?

A third ring.

I can’t get my hands to move. What if they ask questions? When did I decide to come down here? I’m not a spur-of-the-moment kind of girl. How do I explain it? Do I tell the truth?

Fourth ring.

Shit
. What do I do? My fingers clutch the collar of my t-shirt—your t-shirt. My eyes stare a hole through my wristlet.

No more ringing. The call must’ve gone to voicemail.

I hunch back into the couch, trying not to question why I didn’t answer it. I don’t need anything more to analyze.

Chapter Nine

“This is amazing.” My voice echoes in my ears through my headset. “You can see the whole island from up here.” I grip my seat with sweaty hands as you fly us high over the island in your helicopter. My stomach drops and lurches each time we turn or dip, but my fear of heights has gone right out the window with the stunning view. The sunset is a spectacular sight when you’re right in the midst of it. Orange, pink, and gold streaks stripe the blinding blue sky as it fades to gray.

You stare at me with a smile on your face and the oddest expression in your eyes. It’s almost like reverence. “What?” I ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your reaction makes every year I worked my ass off to be able to own luxuries like this helicopter worth it.” I didn’t think your voice could affect me more, but through the mic it reverberates low and deep in my headphones.

I turn away, pretending to be enraptured with the view more than the look in your eyes. I could get lost in them if I let myself. It’s unsettling. You make an amused sound, like you want to laugh. You know you’re getting under my skin. It’s obvious I’m holding onto my resolve by a thread. A fine, fraying thread.

You fly us around the island, stopping to hover by the boathouse. “Look.” You say in your headset, pointing to the bank where we shoved off into the water in the fishing boat. “See him? I told you there were gators around here.”

Scooting to the edge of my seat, I lean over you to see and rest my hand on your thigh. You lower your hand on top of mine. “I don’t see it.” I squint, but can’t make out any movement or alligator shapes on the shore.

“He’s in the water now, about to go under.”

I give you a sideways glance, and you start laughing. “You made it up.”

Your arm circles my waist, and you tug me closer to you. “I’ll admit it. It was a ploy to get you to slide over here.”

“Sneaky.”

“Strategic.”

“Is it always about winning with you?”

A sly grin hitches across your lips. “No. It’s mostly about sex.” You pat the picnic basket behind us. “And food. It’s mostly about food and sex.”

My chest and neck flush, and I grin back at you. “Is that why you brought a blanket?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well no, but I like where you’re going with this.”

Oh, God. My mind’s in the gutter. Why do you do this to me?

Your smile grows wide, dimples showing. “Your face is blood red. Why are you embarrassed? It’s not like we haven’t shared a moment…or two.”

“I know. I was there.” Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I glance out the side of the helicopter again. I feel like I’m sitting on top of the sun—too close, too hot.

Your fingers stroke up and down my side. “I’ll put us down. I have a special place to show you.”

“This entire island is a special place.”

“This is more special. And secret. I was thinking you might want to keep it that way—secret—just for the two of us.”

“What is this special place?”

Curiosity makes me turn back to look at you. My breath stutters. You can’t keep the wide smile off your face. Your brown eyes glow amber in the setting sunlight. Waves of dark hair blow across your forehead.
 
You exude sexuality. I know it’s helpless. I’ll give in the next time you kiss me. I’m not strong enough to resist.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Your hand runs up through my hair, and you squeeze the back of my neck. “Dinner comes with a free massage. Lucky you.”

“You’re trying to get around the no touching rule.”

“I’m touching you right now.”

I lean my head back as you squeeze. “Not where it counts.”

“Hmm…tell me where it counts.”

“You know where it counts.” God, your fingers feel good.

“I want to hear you say it. What do you call it, Rachael?”

“What do
you
call it, Merrick?”

You chuckle. “Right now I’m calling it The Forbidden Destination and trying like hell to find a map.”

I press my lips together suppressing a laugh. “Keep trying, you’re getting closer.”

You shift in your seat. “You’re making me hard again.”

“Oh, I could take care of that for you, too.” Your eyes meet mine. “If you had that map.”

A deep groan growls from your throat, and you squeeze my neck again. “You’re going to keep me at arm’s length forever. I’m going to die on this island with the bluest set of balls ever found on a man.”

“Don’t you have an assistant for that, too?”

Your hand flinches then freezes on the back of my neck, but you don’t respond.

We start descending back toward the grassy area where you keep the helicopter. I’ve struck a nerve, but I’m not sure why. Are you sleeping with Joan? Were you at one time? Something happened to make you react this way. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Your fingers work into my neck again. “You didn’t.”

But I did. I crossed a line. The thought of Joan arriving tomorrow makes my stomach clench. It’s odd how quickly I’ve gone from wanting off this island to wanting to stay here
alone
with you for a while longer. I don’t want Joan interfering before I get sure footing with you.

The copter bumps down onto the ground. You flip some switches and pull your headset off. I do the same. “Don’t move,” you tell me.

I wait until you come around to my side and help me down. You take the picnic basket in one hand and place the other on top of my head to make sure I bend down with you, clearing the propeller slowly rotating to a stop. “It’s not far from here,” you say.

Unlike the first time you showed me the helicopter, we don’t head through the Mangroves toward the water. This time, we walk the opposite direction through the grass and into the trees. They’re just as dense, but don’t have the cage-like root systems that make it almost impossible to get through. These trees are tall and fat, solid with high, leafy branches. Moss trails down like streamers blowing in the breeze. You approach one and hold the basket out to me. “I’ll lower a hook down for the basket.”

I’m confused until you start climbing a ladder—or rather, wooden planks nailed to the tree trunk. Following the boards up the tree, my eyes land on the underside of a massive tree house. “Oh, wow. How did you find this?”

“I got lost on my way from the helicopter to the hotel the first time I came here. Wandered around for a few hours then leaned against this tree. One of the nails ripped a hole in my shirt.”

“Is it safe?” I grab a board try to wiggle it. It doesn’t budge.

“As far as I can tell.” You take a few more steps up and disappear through the square hole in the floor. A few seconds later, you appear leaning over the side of a railing. “Okay, hook the basket on to this, and I’ll haul it up. Can you make it up the ladder? I can come down and get you.”

“I can climb a ladder, Merrick. You’re the old man here. I’m only twenty-five.”

I can’t see you anymore, but I hear you laugh. As I reach up to grab hold of a board, you yell, “Watch out for snakes.”

I jerk my hand back to my chest. “Very funny. Now you might have to come down and get me.”

“How about I lower the hook? You can stick it in your pants and I’ll pull you up. I’d like to see you with a massive wedgie.”

“And somehow you’ve reverted to the humor of a fifth grader.” I start climbing, grinning hugely.

“I’m saving my fart jokes for later.”

“You’re
sure
you’re Merrick Rocha, the billionaire real estate god? I’m starting to think you’re an impersonator.” I reach the top and grab the floor through the opening. Your hands grasp my wrists, and you pull me up to my knees. You’re kneeling, and we’re face-to-face.

“I’m just Merrick, okay? Nothing else. Just a regular guy.”

I nod, but you’ll never be just a regular guy. Regular guys don’t buy islands with historic hotels on them. Regular guys don’t own helicopters and have their assistants fly in food to stock their kitchen. Regular guys don’t
whisk
women away—if that’s what we’re calling it.

 
We settle onto the red and green plaid blanket, and you open the basket. “Water, pasta salad, olives.” You pull each item out one at a time, taking lids off of plastic containers and setting them in the center between us. “Grilled rosemary chicken and chocolate, raspberry cake for dessert.”

I pop a green olive in my mouth. “When did you put all of this together?”

“I cooked a lot when we first got here.” You frown, busying your hands with napkins and silverware. “You slept for quite a while.” Your eyes find mine. “You slept so long, I was afraid I’d hurt you.”

A wave of anger rolls through me. “You said you’d never done that before—put something in a woman’s drink. How did you get it? How did you know how to use it?”

“A guy in the men’s room offered it to me for twenty bucks. I didn’t even think about it. I paid him, found you and bought you a drink. It seemed like the answer I’d been waiting for.”

I grit my teeth.
“It wasn’t an answer.”

 
“I know that. It was stupid. Dangerous. I could’ve hurt you. If I’d given you too much…” Your hand flies to your head. Your fingers pull at your hair. “I was seconds from taking you to a hospital when you finally woke up.”

I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. “I don’t believe you. How would you have explained what happened to me? You would’ve been arrested.”

Your eyes glaze over, glaring at me. “You think I’d let you die?”

I flinch. “I--”

“I gave you your phone. You can call 911 any time. I offered to take you home. Why would I do that if I was afraid of being arrested?” You jam a bottle of water back into the picnic basket. Plates rattle and clank. “I wouldn’t let you fucking die.” You voice is quiet, steel.

On your feet, you lean your elbows on the railing. Both hands run over your head, fingers gripping and sliding through your hair in frustration. “If I could go back to that night, I’d leave you alone and find a way to forget you. Nobody has ever distrusted me like you do. It’s eating away at me. I can’t fix it. I can’t make you forget. You’ll always think of me as the monster who abducted you.”