Tina Wainscott - The Best Of Me

The thought came like a warm breeze across her body. As Chris neared the shore, he scooped her up in his arms, walking toward the boathouse. “You ever made love in a hammock before?”

Lucy looked up thoughtfully, hoping he couldn’t tell her heart was beating so fast. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”

“Well, then, let me initiate you.” He deposited her in the hammock, not even waiting for it to stop swinging before dropping down on top of her.

The sun shone in the window next to them, lighting his green eyes to match the sparkling water outside. She reached up and placed her palms on either side of his face as he worked her wet skirt down.

He nibbled across her skin while his fingers took her right to the edge of ecstasy. She could feel the soft tip of him sliding up and down her thigh, and she was sure she’d never wanted a man the way she wanted Chris.

A sound escaped her mouth as she arched and drowned in waves of pleasure. He made a similar sound when she reached for him, gliding her fingers up and down the length of him in a slow rhythm that coincided with the swinging of the hammock….

Dear Readers,

Readers often wonder where authors get their ideas. The Best of Me was inspired by a news story on the show Inside Edition. Ric O’Barry, the man who trained the original Flipper dolphins, now spends his life fighting for the rights of captive dolphins. In the news story he had gained custody of a dolphin in Brazil and was repatriating him to the wild. I, like many people, am mystified by the dolphin, so a man who sacrifices his own personal happiness and well-being to save them is a hero in my book. Through a series of quirky events, I was able to meet Ric O’Barry. Not only was he fascinating, but his book, Behind the Dolphin Smile was an important resource. I thank him for his invaluable help, and for being a hero in the truest sense of the word.

I must also extend my gratitude to Bill, who spent time with me at Key West Aquarium showing me how an aquarium works, even the back rooms no one usually sees.

Now, for my fictional hero Chris Maddox, I needed a match, a woman who was strong, yet tender enough to touch my jaded hero’s heart. Of course, she’s also his total opposite. But these two people bring out the best in each other and make them question the things they hold dear.

Tina Wainscott

P.S. Please visit my Web site! www.tinawainscott.com

The Best of Me

Tina Wainscott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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My deepest gratitude to Ric O’Barry, founder of the Dolphin Project. This book would not have existed without him. And for all the heroes who work to free captive dolphins. Those heroes include the ones who work in the background, who support the Dolphin Project and similar organizations, and everyone who picks up a pen to write to someone who can make a difference.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

LUCY DONOVAN pulled her luggage beneath the arched, faded sign that read, Sonny’s Marine Park—See Randy the Dolphin! She took a deep breath and stared at the first word because Sonny wouldn’t be there. Her father had died, leaving the daughter he’d hardly spoken with in twelve years his park in Nassau, Bahamas. She felt silly at the sting of tears behind her eyes, at the deep sense of loss. She’d hardly known him.

According to her mother, Sonny was a lazy, good-for-nothing bum. To Lucy, he was a free spirit, an explorer, maybe even a pirate. Though her life reflected her mother’s values, somewhere in Lucy’s soul flowed the blood of the great adventurer she imagined him to be.

She swiped at her eyes and forged on. The ticket booth doubled as a gift shop with displays of key chains and shells. A young man with brown hair nodded as she approached.

“Hi, I’m Lucy Donovan, Sonny’s daughter. I’m supposed to see a Bailey.”

His face broke into a smile that combined relief and welcome. “Boy, are we glad to see you, Lucy, and welcome to Sonny’s. I’m Bill. Bailey’s in the office over there.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

She paused just inside the gate, finding it hard to believe she owned this park right on the ocean. To her left, several in-ground pools sparkled in the sunshine, one with a group of people clustered around it. A sign announced a square tank of water as the Touching Tank. People picked up conch shells and crabs and examined the creatures with wonder. Everyone made her feel overdressed, even though she’d taken off her linen jacket the moment she’d stepped off the plane and succumbed to the muggy heat.

She headed to a small building snugged next to a larger one with a sign over its gaping entrance that read Aquariums. Inside the office, a thin black man stood by a battered desk, rubbing his temples and clutching the phone. The desk and shelves were cluttered with papers and seashells.

The man picked up a letter. “But dere has to be some mistake, mon. Yah, I see the man’s signature, but…so I cannot even shoot him? Okay, okay. No, I won’t shoot him, I promise.” The lyrical way he spoke made her smile despite his annoyance. He dropped the phone into the cradle.

She stepped forward, her hand extended. “You must be Bailey. I’m Lucy Donovan, Sonny’s—”

“A yu, Miss Lucy! Yah, I see Sonny in you, same brown eyes and hair, same length, too.” She touched her shoulder-length hair, but he rambled on. “Am I glad to see you, yes I am. We have a problem, a big problem. The man out dere is tiefing da big fish. A wicked man, dat one. He come dis morning and say he taking our fish. Nobody will come to da park if dere’s no big fish, and without people you got no money, no money means no park, and no park means no job, no job means no food. I got five childrens to feed, an’ t’ree goats.” He took a deep breath. “Miss Lucy, you got to kick the wicked man outta here.”

Cleaning out her father’s place and deciding what to do about the park she now owned was part of her agenda. So was finding out what her father was really like at the risk of her fanciful dreams. Kicking out some wicked man was not on the list of things she wanted to tackle.

“You said a man was tiefing?”

“Tiefing. Stealing. He be taking our main fish, Randy. Come, I show you.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, but he kept walking. “How can someone steal a fish?”

She followed him toward the cluster of people. All she knew about fish was to make sure it was fresh and thoroughly cooked. This knowledge probably wasn’t going to help much. But she did know subordinate workers.

She slipped on her jacket, effecting her boss persona, and asked Bailey, “Does anyone else work here?”

“No, jus’ me, Bill, and Big Sonny, him being in da past tense of course.”

The crowd mumbled and grumbled. “Hey, we paid to see a perr-formin’ dolphin,” a large man drawled. “That guy says we can’t go near him. What kind of deal is this, anyway?”