Heather Graham - Protector, Lover...Husband?

“You really are a man of many talents.”

Turning, he saw Alex’s assistant, the pretty young blonde. She was leaning against the edge of the rustic wood bar.

“Thanks.”

“Do you cha-cha?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes, I do,” he said.

“Well, will you ask me? Or are you making me ask you?”

“Laurie, I would love to dance with you,” he said gallantly.

As they moved, she asked him frankly, “Why on earth did you two ever split up?”

“Actually, I don’t really know,” he told her.

“I bet I do,” she told him. “You must be pretty high maintenance.”

“High maintenance? I’m great at taking care of myself. I may not be a gourmet, but I can cook. I know every button on a washing machine. I usually even remember to put down the toilet seat.”

She laughed. “Well, there you go.”

“Excuse me? How is that high maintenance?”

“You don’t need anybody,” she said. “So it’s high maintenance for someone to figure out what they can do for you.”

She wasn’t making any sense, but she was sincere, and she made him smile.

Then the music came to an end, and he regretted that he had been so determined on proving his mettle with Alex, because he found himself being asked to dance by almost every woman in the Tiki Hut.

And somewhere, in the middle of a mambo, he realized that Alex had slipped away—and so had John Seymore.

Somehow, just when things had begun looking a little brighter, David had walked back into her life, and now he was ruining everything.

John’s arm sat casually around her shoulders as they strolled toward her cottage. “Hate to admit it,” he said casually, “but you two looked great out there. Did you spend a lot of time out dancing while you were married?”

“No. We didn’t spend much time together doing anything—other than diving for treasure or facing great whites or experiencing some other thrill.”

“Strange,” he said.

“What?”

“The way you sound. You love the sea so much, too.”

“Actually? I’m not into sharks. I was terrified every time I went into the water with them, but with the crew of hard-core fanatics that always seemed to be around, I didn’t want to look like a coward. I love the sea, yes. But I’m into warm-blooded, friendly creatures, myself.”

“You really love your dolphins, huh?”

She shrugged, liking the way his arm felt around her, but feeling a sense of discomfort, as well.

David. Telling her that they were still married. But they weren’t; they hadn’t been for a year. Not in any way that mattered. All he was talking about was legality. His words shouldn’t mean a thing.

Except that…

She was traditional. She’d been raised Catholic.

Damn David. He would know her thought process, that she would feel that she shouldn’t be with another man, that it wouldn’t be right, and…

Just how many women had he been with in the last year? What was wrong with her that she couldn’t see how ridiculous it was for her to be concerned over anything he had to say? Why had seeing him again made her uncertain, when she knew that an easy confidence and charm were just a part of his nature?

“I do love my dolphins,” she said, realizing she had been silent for too long after his question. “They are the most incredible animals. What I like most is that they seem to study us just as we study them, and just as we learn their behavior, they learn what our behavior is going to be. Sometimes their affinity for man, especially in the wild, can be dangerous for them, but still, the communication we can share is just amazing.”

“They are incredible,” he agreed. “I’ve seen them used in the navy in the most remarkable ways. Never worked with them myself,” he added quickly. “But I’ve seen what they can do.”

They had reached her porch. Strange, her thoughts had been filled with David’s behavior—she wished she could begin to understand the male of her own species half as well as she understood her dolphins—and then with John’s company, which, she had to admit, she had found all the more intoxicating just because she knew that it disturbed David.

Now, despite the light burning on her back porch, it seemed that the shadows of night were all around her, and she remembered the body on the beach. It wasn’t that she had ever forgotten, but despite her determination, the doubts of others had crept into her mind.

Was she insane, thinking the woman had been dead?

Or was she more insane now, trying to do what Jay had demanded, keep silent about the possibility of a body on the beach?

John had escorted her up the two wooden steps to her little back porch, with its charming, gingerbread railing. They were standing by her back door.

He was probably waiting to be invited in.

And just this morning, she had thought that if this moment came, she would invite him in.

She mentally damned her ex-husband again. Her almost-ex-husband.

She smiled up at John Seymore. His dimple was showing as he offered her a rueful smile.

“You’re really something,” he said.

“So are you,” she murmured. Blond hair, handsome face, shoulders to die for, arms that were wonderfully secure…

She slipped into them. He lowered his mouth to hers, and she allowed herself the kiss, but she couldn’t stop herself from analyzing it. Firm mouth, coercive, not demanding, fingers gently suggestive in her hair, tongue teasing at her lips, slipping into her mouth, warm, very warm, definitely seductive…

On a physical level, he was incredible.

So if she could just forget about David…

She couldn’t. Not when he was here, on the island, so irritatingly in-her-face.

She stepped back, stroking John’s cheek.

“You’re around for a little while longer, right?” she inquired softly, hoping he understood her signals. I’m interested, but it’s been a very long and strange day…

“I can arrange to be around for a very, very long time,” he told her. Then he grinned. “I’d like to come in. But I understand perfectly. Okay, well, not perfectly, and I am disappointed, wishing I could be sleeping with you tonight.”

She felt a flush touch her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to…lead you on, to suggest…”

“You didn’t. You’re just the most fascinating woman I’ve met in aeons, and…hell, good night. I’ll be around.”

“I—well, I know you’ve been talking to David. We are divorced. There’s just some ridiculous technicality.”

“I’m not worried about a technicality,” he told her.

“Neither am I.”

“But I will step back if the technicality isn’t just on paper, if it’s something a lot deeper.”

His words made her like him all the more. He wasn’t about to step into the middle of a triangle, or be secondstring to any other man.

“It’s only a technicality—really.” She meant to sound sincere. She wasn’t sure if she really was or not. And she wasn’t sure what he heard in her denial.

“Well…” he murmured.

He drew her to him, kissed her forehead. Then he walked down the steps, and started back along the foliage-bordered path.

She watched him disappear, realized she hadn’t opened her door, and felt the pressure of the night and the shadows again. She quickly slid her key into the bolt for the glass doors, then stepped inside, feeling a rise of anger. She had never felt afraid here before, ever.

And now…

Though the image had faded for a moment due to skepticism and doubt, she could now vividly recall the corpse on the beach. A corpse that had disappeared.

She locked the door, making certain it was secure; then, still feeling an almost panicky unease, she walked through the little Florida room, kitchen and living room, assuring herself that windows were tightly closed and the front door was locked.