White Ginger (10 page)

“Do you want to tell me about it?” She needed to talk this through. He waited patiently.

She was silent for several moments before drawing in a deep breath. “It’s always the same. It started after–after a diver was taken on the reef when I was on holiday with…on holiday up in North Queensland. The police divers found a body part in the area and the journalists were only interested in the gruesome details.” She shuddered.

“While we were waiting…I was on the search boat at the time…well, while the police were diving, I was leaning over the side and a shark, probably not even the same one but it seemed huge, glided past just below me. It’s so prehistoric. I mean, there’s nothing like it. All I could see was this killer. Anytime I get stressed, I dream of it.”

“What do you dream, Amelie?” He rocked her in his arms, stroking her hair to soothe her.

“I dream I’m sitting astride this brick wall surrounded by sea. My feet only just clear the waves. They’re getting higher and higher, but never quite reach my feet. Then the sharks circle, just looking at me out of their beady black eyes. I always wake in a sweat.”

“They won’t get you. I’ll look after you. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. Sshh.” He rocked her as he would a child on his lap. “There’s my darling girl. It will be okay.”

Gently he kissed her eyes, forehead, hair, stroking her, offering whispered reassurance. She wound her arms around his neck, the blanket falling as she leaned in to nuzzle his ear. Trailing kisses down her neck to her bare shoulders, he tasted salt, sharp but sweet on her warm skin. She shifted on his lap, and his body reacted predictably. His thigh muscles tensed and his breath hissed out. Carefully, he shifted her bottom back to ease his growing discomfort but his hand, as though with a mind of its own, continued stroking her neck and shoulder, unintentionally dislodging the one good strap of her swim suit.

He bent and kissed the bared skin of her collarbone. She drew in a sharp breath then released an almost inaudible sigh. Her hands slid down his bare torso, grazing his nipples. Fire raced along every nerve in his body and his erection throbbed against her thigh. Did she know what she was doing to him? Then she lowered her head to nibble his neck and the pressure against his erection became a sweet torture.

Stay still, Melie. Don’t move or else.

She wriggled and the tightening of her bottom and thigh muscles in his lap shot an electric current through him.

He dragged in and held a ragged breath. For one eternal moment, he was still. Then, like a dam wall bursting, his restraint exploded. Frantically, he pulled her around to straddle his lap. She wound her legs around his back, pressing her body tightly against his. Reason flew out the window. Running his hands down her curves, he slid her swimsuit down to her waist and pulled her hips against his. Amelie’s fingers slid through his curls and turned his head until he kissed her lips.

Frantic to make love to her, his kiss demanded entry. Her mouth opened invitingly and his tongue shafted in and out.

She dug her fingers into the tense muscles of his neck, over his shoulders. His muscles flexed when her hands roved across his back. Kissing hungrily down her neck, he tasted warm woman–Amelie–bare skin. Paradise. And then he encountered the gentle swell of her breasts. And groaned.

He should stop. Now.

Raising his head he met her dreamy, unfocussed gaze. One of them had to be sensible.

“Amelie. No. You’re hurt.”

“Only if you stop now.” Her whisper was like a command before she tugged his head back down to one breast. How could he resist her?

Warm breath fanned across his ear as his mouth found her rosy nipple. She arched toward him, her head tipped back.

His arousal nestled between her legs, thrusting up between their bellies as damp heat spread between them. Wriggling, she pressed harder against him until only thin material separated them. His arousal throbbed, demanding release. He suckled her breast and her breathing quickened to tiny panting gasps. Sensing she was close to climax, he fought to hold back his own need.

Leilani
lurched heavily. The thump broke his hold on her breast. He moved his legs to avoid tumbling the two of them to the cabin floor. Dimly, he became aware of their intimate hold on one another.

With an iron will, Arne raised his head, the effort of pulling away from her almost more than he could bear. He groaned as she reached for him. Grasping her wrists gently between their bodies, he created space between them. “You’ve had a bad shock, Amelie. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I wasn’t fair.”

With shaky fingers he raised the sole intact strap of her swimsuit to her shoulder and carefully covered her with the blanket. “I’m so sorry.”

“What’s the matter?” Her voice was husky.

With desire? Fatigue?

“Didn’t you like that?”

“Yes, of course I did. But you’re hurt. You’re in shock and I took advantage of you. Amelie, I’m sorry.”

He drew a ragged breath and eased her off his lap. “I’d better radio a report in. Why don’t you shower and get dressed?” He turned on his heel and headed up to the deck.

Chapter 8

Why had he stopped? Her anxiety about a reef fish was ridiculous, she knew that, but she couldn’t help it. Was their mutual attraction enough to overcome her response to the shark?

Did I blow it with my stupid reaction?

Amelie headed for the shower closet, preoccupied with Arne’s reaction to their lovemaking. Had she imagined the whole scene? The throbbing between her legs assured her she wasn’t hallucinating. Had she consciously thrown herself at his head, she couldn’t have felt more embarrassed. How would she face him again?

She turned the hot water on hard, and then scrubbed her skin with a sponge until she tingled all over.

After emerging from the shower, she pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. A cool wind indicating the coming storm snuck under the cabin door and she shivered. She rummaged through the hatch under the bunk and found a deep blue fisherman’s jumper The wide neck slipped off her shoulder, the jumper hung below her hips like a miniskirt and the sleeves needed to be rolled up several times. With her arms folded protectively over her stomach, she stepped onto the deck.

Bare-chested, Arne kneeled hunched over the motor, tinkering with the engine.

“The fuel line’s been cut, and the radio was smashed. Someone doesn’t want us to get back home.” A muscle flicked in his cheek. At least he wasn’t angry with her.

“Can we use signal flares to attract attention?”

“We can try, but I doubt whether anyone will see it tonight. Look at the clouds.” He pointed with the wrench to the east. Storm clouds had built up into towering mountains. A strange light surrounded them. Lightning zapped through their center, beautiful and elemental and menacing to a craft as defenseless as theirs.

“I think we’re in for a rough night.”

Great. A storm at sea is
 
all we need
.

She turned back. “Should we be battening down or something?”

Arne sat back, his shoulders slumped and rested his arm on his knee, the wrench hanging from his white-knuckled grip. He shook his head.

“I don’t think I can fix this fuel line. Amelie…” With the back of his hand, he wiped away a line of sweat, leaving an oil smudge along his cheek.

Her heart went out to him. In spite of his pulling away from their lovemaking, she knew there was a connection between them. She hadn’t imagined it. Maybe he just needed time to get used to her? Would he come back to her arms?

When we’re out of danger–I’ll try again. Because you’re a good man, Arne Keloki. And I want you.

The light faded and a flurry of rain blew across the deck.

“I’ll make us something to eat while there’s still some light. It’ll be all right.”

Her words were a promise to him. And to herself.

* * * *

The wind was rising, swinging
Leilani
awkwardly into crashing waves. Arne set off a flare which rocketed high, its downward trajectory lost in clouds laden with squally rain. They worked feverishly in the waning light, lashing everything down until there was little more they could do without daylight.

Their attacker had left them without fuel or radio. Their power supply was dead, the sole source of light coming from an oil lamp Arne kept for emergency use.

Starlight had long since been extinguished by the dense, overhead cloud cover. The oil lamp was nearly burned out, the light so low he could barely make out Amelie’s features. Groping his way to the bunk where she sat swathed in a blanket, he perched on the edge. How he wished he could read her expression. Self-disgust ate away at him.

He raked his hands through his hair, trying to find the right words.

“I’m sorry about how I treated you this afternoon. I didn’t mean it to get out of hand like that.”

She pulled the blanket tighter under her chin and huddled into an even smaller space. God, she didn’t want him touching her. How could he have lost control so badly? A flash of lightning spotlighted her wide, stricken eyes, her hunched shoulders.

His stomach roiled.

“You probably think me a brute but I swear–I’m not going to touch you again. Please, put it down to the intoxicating mix of your vulnerability and my fear. When I think what might have happened if I hadn’t turned back when I did. I thought I’d lost you.” Bleakness filled him. If he’d lost her…

Arne forced himself to move to the far side of the cabin.

Amelie lowered the blanket. He strained to hear her over the crashing waves and roaring wind.

“Did I hear you right? Tell me, Arne. Why did you stop making love to me?”

“You were in shock. I was so thankful you weren’t badly hurt I let myself forget. But it was wrong. Can you forgive me?”

“Maybe you were in shock too. I was so absorbed in my little world of woe I didn’t think how you were feeling. You had to care for me, repair the boat and deal with the storm. I should be apologizing to you.”

She thrust back the blanket and stood, falling onto him as the boat heaved. Instinctively, he steadied her. She grabbed his jacket as she knocked into the edge of the counter. “Ouch! Let’s sit on the bunk. It’s safer.”

They staggered back, half-falling on top of each other as they regained the security of the bunk.

“Arne, I wanted to tell you…to thank you for saving my life today. It seems you’re always rescuing me from something. And kissing me–made me forget what had happened.”

He shook his head and drew away. What a generous heart she had. But it was his fault. He shouldn’t have made love to her in her state of mind. Nothing she said could change that.

She grabbed his arms.

“Look at me, Arne.”

In the last of the lamplight, he looked into her eyes. Twin points of light reflected in their depths. She was beautiful. He squashed the desire to hold her close, fisting his hands in his lap.

“You know, I really wanted you to keep–kissing me this afternoon. I…liked it…a lot.” She touched his cheek. “I’d like to…would you like to…Arne, please hold me?”

“Amelie. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He had to be hallucinating. Had she just asked him to kiss her again?

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t join you in this afternoon. It’s just your misguided sense of honor. Anyway, I’m not in shock now. And I know what I’m doing.”

He enfolded her, carefully, his thoughts spinning at the miracle of her generous and loving spirit. She wasn’t in shock now and she
wanted
him.
Him.

“I feel safe right here.” She nestled into his chest, her head resting just above his thudding heart. He breathed out, a slow, disbelieving, thankful sigh.

The light gave out. They lay in the darkness, pulling the blanket over their entwined bodies, sharing their warmth. Somehow, she made everything perfect. The seas roiled and the storm raged outside. Within the cabin, they created their own island of calm.

* * * *

Gray morning light filtered through the salt grimed windows. Amelie lay on her side with her eyes closed, savoring Arne’s warm body curled around hers, the weight of his arm lying across her waist. Nothing happened under their shared blanket, yet everything had changed. He wanted her, he cared for her, he’d been fearful that he had nearly lost
her
.
She
was important to him.

Whatever it was that constrained him, she was certain it wasn’t another woman. She had no physical rival. So what was stopping him? Somehow, she’d find out and break through his reserve. She could so easily fall in love with him.

Whiskers scraped the soft skin of her neck. Goose bumps started down her arms. Since when had morning stubble turned her on?

Since waking up beside one gorgeous sailor.
 

He nuzzled her ear.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Fancy some breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs?” She rolled over to face him. He looked more like the pirate Jimi had called him with the beard shadowing his cheeks and chin. “Or would rolled oats be more appropriate?” She rubbed a hand over his rough cheek.