Heather Graham - Still Waters

Ben thought Matt might have gone topside already, to fire up the motor. But he hadn’t.

He had remained in the cabin by the computer desk, radio, and Ben had the oddest feeling that the guy was guarding them.

Amanda was still glued to his arm, but Ben had a feeling she, too, was aware that although the saying here seemed to be Make yourself at home, there were certain areas of home that were off-limits.

Why?

His instincts were kicking in again. There was something askew with this picture. But what? For a sick moment he wondered if these guys were involved in a modern piracy ring, if they hadn’t acquired the yacht illegally. Then again, if a vessel like this had gone missing, he would have heard about it. The members of the club had associates all over the world as well, and the theft of a craft like the Sea Serpent wouldn’t have gone unnoted.

So much for his instincts. On the one hand, he was convinced that Keith, back onshore, would never cause the least danger to the people Ben loved. And on the other hand...

“C’mon,” Lee urged. “Come see the fish finder on this beauty. We’ll be hauling in our dinner at turbo speed.”

Amanda disentangled herself from Ben, yawning. “You know, I was thinking maybe I’d take a little snooze.” She laughed softly, looking at Ben. “We were all awakened in the middle of the night,” she reminded them.

“No way,” Lee protested. “We’re striking out to sea, all for one and one for all. Everyone topside!”

Amanda pouted prettily. She would have spoken again, Ben was certain, except that Lee was striding toward them, ready to herd them all up, as if he were a friendly sheepdog keeping the masses together.

He wondered if he was just creating a sense of something that wasn’t there, more spooked by Beth’s unease than he’d realized.

She was worse than he was, worrying about Amber, worrying about him, spending the majority of her time at work. For most young women, the club would be a smorgasbord of rugged, tanned, athletic professional men. But not for Beth, who didn’t date where she worked. It was as if she was oblivious.

Tall, tanned, perfectly fit in a feminine way—stacked—with her dark hair and exotic eyes, she was probably the greatest catch on the island. But even here, she was proving adept at keeping her distance.

“You’re mean,” Amanda teased Lee, and clasping his arm, a pretty moue on her face. “I’m just so sleepy.”

“I’ll set you up on deck. You’ll love it,” Lee assured her.

At that moment Ben knew for a fact that his suspicions were correct.

No one, for any reason, was going to be left in the cabin alone.

So just what were they up to?

* * *

“Shh!”

Beth found the sound absurdly reassuring. Though she couldn’t see the man whose hand was on her mouth, she knew it was Keith Henson. Was it the feel of him? A certain chemistry? It didn’t matter. She just knew.

She felt his other hand spanning the bare flesh of her midriff. He was tense but no longer forceful, and the hand on her mouth eased, then moved away. She could feel the thud of both his heart and her own.

As they stood there, silent, strangely bonded, Brad and Sandy appeared in the clearing.

And Brad was the one wielding the machete.

It was a wicked-looking weapon, and yet...boaters planning to put ashore on an island might readily have one. In fact, he was using it for the exact purpose one might expect in such a circumstance—chopping away at the heavy growth.

“I think it was here,” Sandy said wearily.

“Here is an awfully damn big space,” Brad said irritably.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a small island.”

“Way too small, at the moment. We should have realized. It’s a weekend.”

“Should we just quit moaning and start looking?”

Beth adjusted her footing ever so slightly. Behind her, Keith did likewise. He seemed to have no intention of letting her go, accosting the pair or letting his own presence be known. She could feel the coiled tension in him. He was listening intently.

Were they looking for a skull?

And if Keith Henson didn’t know about the skull, why would he be so worried about a young couple searching a clearing on the island?

She turned slightly, looking up at him as Brad hacked away at overhanging fronds and branches. He shook his head, warning her that she shouldn’t move, shouldn’t give herself away.

A fly buzzed near her nose. She began to wonder just how long she could stand so perfectly still. Yet, her own heart continued to race, and her suspicions were hiked to the limit, every fiber of her being attuned to danger.

“I hear something,” Sandy announced suddenly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brad told her.

“No, no, I hear something. From the beach.”

“They’re fishing.”

“They’re not all fishing.”

“So what? We’re just walking around the island.”

“I don’t like this, Brad. Let’s go back.”

“Are you scared?”

“You bet.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Come on, they all have jobs. They’ll have to get back to work in a couple of days. The island will be all ours again. Please, let’s just get out of here for now.”

Brad let out a long sigh. Then he slipped his arms around her, letting the machete dangle.

“Ooh, nice sword,” Sandy teased.

“You bet, baby.”

He started to kiss her. Then, with his free hand, to fondle her.

Beth held her breath, feeling acutely uncomfortable. She could still feel the hand on her own midriff, and watching these two get more and more intimate...

I thought you were scared, Sandy! she longed to shout.

Then things got worse.

“Want to really fool around?” Brad whispered.

“Maybe.”

“Then you won’t be scared? Worried about getting caught?”

“There’s something kind of exciting about it,” Sandy whispered in return. Her hand slid from his chest.

Lower. Lower.

Beth could feel her cheeks flaming to a bright pink.

“Then again... I should be punishing you,” Sandy said huskily. “You were all over the blonde today.”

“The blonde was all over me today,” Brad protested.

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“Hey...she was determined to let me know she was full-bodied.”

“You and every other guy there.”

“Um, true, but you shouldn’t let her worry you.”

“No,” Sandy agreed. “It’s the other one I’m worried about. You were looking at her.”

“I was looking at her?”

“Yeah, you know. Looking.”

“Well, she is really sexy. Legs that go on forever. Imagine what she could do with those legs.”

Beth could feel the flames deepen in her cheeks, and she imagined that Keith had to be aware of it, too. She couldn’t stand much more of this. Self-preservation had kept her silent so far. Embarrassment might well send her flying from cover.

“Hey,” Sandy protested.

“Am I turning you on yet?” Brad demanded.

“Seriously... I keep hearing something.”

“What happened to the idea of being caught in the act of being so hot and sexy?”

“Those girls are underage.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the last thing we need now is to be arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor,” Sandy said.

“Good point,” Brad agreed seriously. But then he quickly returned to his lighter tone. “Hey...the tent is exotic and hot, you know.”

“So let’s get back to the beach—please! In a couple of days, they’ll all leave. It will be our island again, Brad. Then we can take care of things.”

At last the two of them left, disappearing across the clearing, taking the same trail Beth had used.

Behind her, Keith remained still for what seemed like an aeon. It was all she could do to keep from wrenching away. And yet he was right—they needed to let Sandy and Brad put some distance between them.