Tina Wainscott - The Best Of Me

“Yeah, I want my money back,” another chimed in.

“Me, too! I heard about these island rip-off artists.”

“Nooo, no rip artists here, mon.” Bailey turned to give her a woeful look, then raised his palms and turned back to the crowd. “We’re working on da problem, mon. Go play wit’ da conchs and crabs in da Touching Tank, and we get da big show ready. Go, go,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

They moved away, but didn’t leave. Obviously they thought a better show was about to be performed. Lucy’s throat went dry, but anger prickled through her at the thought of some man stealing the main attraction. What nerve. She pushed back her sleeves and stepped up to the knee-high fence that surrounded all the pools.

The man standing in chest-deep water on a platform paid absolutely no attention to anything but the large form circling in the pool with him. He was probably in his early thirties, with blond hair burnished gold by the sun. His curls grazed the tops of strong, tan shoulders. Quite possibly he had one of the nicest chins she’d ever seen, strong and perfectly shaped. Something warm tickled through her. He could be an attraction himself: See Gorgeous Guy in Pool!

Bailey nudged her, and she blinked in disbelief. Good grief, she was supposed to kick the man out, not ogle him!

“Excuse me,” she said, leaning over the fence. “Man in the pool.”

The man pulled a fish out of a bucket. The big fish moved closer and popped its head out of the water. Oh, it was a dolphin like Flipper! Ridges of tiny teeth lined its open mouth, and for a moment she worried about the man’s long fingers. The big fish caught its supper in midair, landing with a graceful splash. The crowd clapped sporadically, but the man didn’t even glance up.

“Excuse me,” she said, louder this time. “Please get out of the pool so we can discuss this.”

He glanced up at her then, insolence in vivid eyes the color of the sparkling ocean beyond him. She felt her stomach twist. Before she could even admonish herself for getting caught up in his eyes, he’d turned back to the dolphin.

The pattern in the concrete made her heels a little shaky, but she stepped over the gate and the sign he’d obviously put up that said Keep Out, and walked to the edge. No one ignored Lucy Donovan. Running her own advertising company had given her an edge of authority, and if she could get past those eyes, she’d have him bowing in acquiescence in no time. The thought of him bowing in front of her also did strange things to her stomach.

She planted her hands on her hips, and in her best bosslike tone, said, “Out of the pool now, mister.”

“Lady, if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up in the pool. Some of the tiles around the edge are loose.”

“You think you can scare me away with a few loose tiles?” She glanced back at the crowd that probably thought this was some kind of skit. “Who are you and what right do you have to be in this pool? This is private property.” Her private property.

The dolphin popped out of the water and caught the fish again. The crowd clapped. Anger surged. Forget his eyes! This guy is wicked, she thought, walking around to the side behind the dolphin.

“I want an answer or I’m calling the authorities.”

“I already explained everything to that guy,” the man said, waving vaguely toward Bailey but not looking at anyone but the big fish.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Since I’m the owner, why don’t you explain it to me?”

The strength from her last statement trickled away when he turned those eyes on her, and she saw disgust. “You’re the owner?”

Her shoulders stiffened. “Yes. And I want to know why you’re molesting my fish.”

Well, now she had his attention. He swam toward her, the sun glistening off his wet shoulders. She sensed a fight brewing and geared her body toward it. In one slick movement he shoved himself out of the pool and stood to face her. Or look down at her, as it were. Water ran in rivulets down a chest sprinkled with fine, golden hair. He wore one of those little swimming trunk things that outlined everything, and she wasn’t going to look anymore. On a black cord around his neck he wore a shark’s tooth. She looked up to meet his eyes, refusing to be intimidated by him, his height, or his eyes. Or what the deep blue trunks revealed. A warm breeze washed over her, making her aware of the fine sheen of perspiration on her face.

He crowded closer into her zone. “First of all, that is not a fish. He’s a mammal like you and me, only not as selfish and greedy and inhumane. That dolphin has been living in a chlorinated pool that has bleached his skin white and has made his eyes nearly close. Dolphins are made to swim out there.” He gestured toward the open ocean. “Not in that little swimming pool. His snout’s beat up from bumping against the sides. This very social creature has lived alone for six years. His only company is some guy who makes him do tricks for a bunch of people who think it’s neat to see a dolphin jump and twirl for his meals, which have, up until today, consisted of frozen mullet. To you and me, that’s like eating dog food. Frozen dog food.”

She didn’t think it was possible, but he moved even closer. “You have stripped from that dolphin everything that makes him a dolphin. His pod and all the hierarchy and social activities that go with it, the thrill of the chase, the feel of the open, endless ocean, the fun of life, and if you want to get right down to it, you’ve robbed his soul. He was going to die in that pool, and you would have been responsible. My name is Chris Maddox. I’m the founder of the Free Dolphin Society, and I’ve been given authority by the Bahamian government to repatriate this dolphin to the wild.”

He touched his finger to her collarbone, sending little shock waves through her chest. “I’m not going anywhere without this dolphin. Got it?”

Anger turned to guilt as his words spiked through her. She shifted away from him—and something moved under her heel. The tile tilted, and she lost her balance. Arms flailing, she fell toward the sparkling water with that huge form moving beneath it. Dignity be damned, she thought, as a scream tore from her throat. Her fingers slid across Chris’s slick skin as she tried to grab for anything. She felt his hands on her arms, but it was too late. Momentum was doing its thing, and they both tumbled into the pool.

She came to the surface with a loud gasp, shoving herself toward the shallow platform. Chris came up a second later, flicking his head back and sending a spray of water behind him. And the big fish…the dolphin swam toward her.

She felt her eyes bulge out in panic. “Get it away from me!”

When she turned to Chris for help, her fear bubbled to anger. He was laughing! Then the sound of more laughter filled the air. She turned toward the clapping crowd. The only person not laughing was Bailey. He looked shell-shocked. She pressed her palm to her forehead, and then realized she was still in the pool with the big fish. Its head was now out of the water, and even it seemed to be grinning at her.

“This is not funny,” she said to no one in particular, pushing wet strands of hair from her face. She hated the tremble that crept through her voice. “Just keep that fish away from me.”

“He’s not a fish, he’s a dolphin,” Chris corrected again, though he still had the same kind of grin on his face the dolphin had.

“Fine, please keep the dolphin away while I get out of here.”

Her linen pants felt leaden as she turned to the side of the pool. Earlier he had pressed down on the edge and lifted himself right out of the water. But he wasn’t wearing wet pants or heels, and she didn’t have the muscles he did.