Heather Graham - Still Waters

Because he frightened her in too many ways?

“Excuse me. I think I’ll get a beer,” she murmured, slipping past him, but she intended a smooth exit. She stepped a little too quickly and a little too close. She felt the tension in his muscles, then nearly careened sideways into him.

“Excuse me,” she murmured again, afraid she was blushing. She hurried away and walked right past the cooler, then remembered she had said she was going for a beer. She quickly secured one, then went to stand by her brother’s side.

Sandy and Brad were telling stories about diving the Great Barrier Reef. She had to admit that she’d never been.

Amanda, however, could agree with them on the beauty of the dive.

“Such a long flight, though,” Sandy said.

“Oh, it was really a lovely jaunt for me,” Amanda gushed. “We went with some of Father’s associates, sailed for months and saw zillions of islands, and then went on to Australia. The week in Fiji was my favorite, I think. Though Tahiti was fabulous, too. We had such a darling little place there. While the yacht was being cleaned, we had charming and very private rooms right on the beach. The sunrises were exquisite, the sunsets even more so.”

“Hey, all we have to do is step out of our tents tomorrow morning for the same effect,” Keith said, arriving with a large plate of grilled fish. “There are some fantastic sunrises right here.” He offered Amanda a broad smile. Flirtatious? Or intended to take some of the sting out of his reminder that their own home offered a world-class beauty.

“Oh, yes, this area is fabulous, as well.” Amanda smiled meaningfully at Beth. “Especially when you really can’t go anywhere else.”

Beth smiled back, all the while envisioning dumping the ice in the cooler over the woman’s head.

“Soup’s on!” Matt announced cheerfully.

There were a few camp chairs, and Matt had spread blankets out on the sand. A looped palm offered a few seats perfectly created by nature, and with her plate filled with fish and potato salad, Beth found herself claiming the tree as a chair. Hank took the seat next to her, but when Amanda called to him, begging him to get her something to drink, he left, and she found herself being joined by Keith. She wondered if he was seeking her out on purpose. And then she wondered why. She didn’t have a lack of confidence, it was just that...well, Amanda Mason was there, and she was the far better flirt, on top of being an undeniably alluring woman.

“So you work for a yacht club?” Keith asked.

“Yes.” She waved a hand in the air. “I work for it. They belong to it.”

He laughed. “Are you supposed to be the poor little rich girl or something?”

She shook her head, looking at him. “I like working there. It’s fun.” She hesitated, wondering why she kept feeling compelled to explain things to him. “My brother is a member, so if I weren’t working there, I’d have all his privileges. Working there pays well, and I get free dockage, which Ben uses, since employees get that perk and members don’t, and he owns a boat and I don’t. I see some of the most luxurious and beautiful yachts in the world. And meet some of the nicest people. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” He offered her a slow, wry smile.

“Mostly,” she repeated, refusing to say more. Had the tension in her relationship with Amanda been so evident to a stranger?

“It’s always interesting when you get around boats,” he said. “Some people are as rich as Croesus and you’d never know it, they’re just so down to earth. Some are as poor as church mice, putting everything they have into staying on the water. And they’re just as nice. But don’t ever kid yourself. The sea can breed demons.”

She looked up at him, startled, but he was rising, looking toward the group that had drawn around the fire.

Had he been warning her about something?

Maybe himself?

The light had faded in earnest. No more deep blues, purples, streaks of gold or any other color. Night had come.

In the far distance, a faint glow could be seen, coming from the lights along the heavily populated coast of south Florida. But on the island, there was nothing except for the glow from the fire. Around them, the foliage of the inner island had become blanketed in shadows.

The wind stirred, creating a rustle.

“The girls want to hear some ghost stories,” Lee called out to Keith.

“I said pirate stories,” Amber said, laughing.

“Pirates would be ghosts, by now,” Ben told his daughter, amused.

“Most of the time,” Keith said, moving toward the fire. “Except that there are modern-day pirates. All over the world.”

“Too real,” Amanda protested with a shiver. Of course, she was still clad in nothing but the skinny bathing suit. Sure, they were on a semitropical island. But the sea breezes at night could be cool.

Keith noticed her discomfort. He slipped off his shirt and draped it around her shoulders. She flashed him a beautiful smile. He smiled back.

It was a simple gesture of courtesy, but it made Beth lower her head, wondering how she could allow someone like Amanda to irritate her so much.

“Okay, so we want an old-fashioned pirate ghost story, right?” Keith asked. He didn’t remain behind Amanda but strode toward the center of the group, closer to the fire. He hunkered down by the flames, forcing Beth to wonder if he was aware that the flames added a haunting quality to his classic features.

“I’ll tell you the tale of the Sea Star and La Doña. Both were proud ships with billowing white sails! But one was English, and the other sailed under the flag of Spain. The Sea Star sailed from London in the year of our Lord 1725. Her captain was a fierce man, loyal to the core to the king. England and Spain were hardly on the best of terms, and Jonathan Pierce, the captain, was eager to seize a Spanish ship full of gold from the New World.

“Captain Pierce, however, wasn’t sailing alone. Along with his crew, he was carrying a party of nobility. One of them was the Lady Marianne Howe, daughter of the governor of one of the small islands, and he was unaware that a year earlier, her ship had run aground on coral shoals and she’d been saved by a handsome young Spaniard, Alonzo Jimenez. Of course, under the circumstances, despite the fact that the young Spaniard and his crew had simply returned the Englishmen and women he had rescued to the governor in Virginia—asking no ransom, no reward, and ignoring the hostilities between the countries—there could be no happy ending for Marianne and Alonzo. Not only was he a Spaniard, but an untitled one, at that.

“Still, Marianne had managed to keep in contact with him, smuggling out love letters. She was ready to cast aside her title, her fortune and her family, all for Alonzo. He had arranged to hide his ship here, around the curve of Calliope Key—”

“Calliope Key?” Kim interrupted. “Where we are now?”

“Of course. What good would a ghost story be if it weren’t about this island?” Keith asked, smiling slightly.

His voice was perfect for the tale, Beth thought. It was a rich, deep voice. She had to admit that she was as seduced as the others.

“Oh, right,” Amber murmured.

Beth looked at her niece with a certain amusement. Amber was—and always had been—capable of sitting through the scariest horror movie. Now, however, her eyes were very wide.

Keith Henson—whatever he was really up to—had a talent for storytelling. With the strange fire glow on his face and the deep, intense rasp of his voice, he held them all enthralled.

“Go on,” Ben said, his profound interest surprising Beth.

“Well, the young lovers never intended harm toward anyone. Marianne was a strong swimmer. She simply meant to get close enough to her lover’s ship to escape into the sea, then find refuge on the island until he could come to her. With any luck, the Sea Star would have been long gone before anyone noticed she wasn’t aboard.