Cara Lockwood - Shelter In The Tropics

“You’d better let go of me or we’re going to drown,” she cautioned him.

“It would be worth it,” he said, the flirting tone unmistakable.

Cate grinned, but then splashed him once more. He let go and she swam away, laughing. She realized she was actually having fun.

Swimming next to Tack, she wondered if a little fling would be good for her, after all. He was a tourist, so it’s not like there could be anything serious. A week at most? What was the harm in that?

Plus, there was something about the man that made her feel both at ease and anxious at the same time. He was built like a Renaissance statue, complete with chiseled abs. His muscles simply couldn’t be real. That’s what Cate told herself over and over again as they swam together in the fish-filled cove. She tried not to stare, but everywhere she looked, she saw his muscles working. His broad shoulder muscles tensed as he swam along the surface, and she wondered how easily he might be able to lift her up. Or carry me to his bed.

The thought popped up in her mind completely unwelcomed, and she squashed it down instantly. I can’t have a fling. I’ve got Avery to think about. And Tack’s a perfect stranger. Can’t be trusted.

For all she knew, he could be on Rick’s payroll.

The thought was paranoid and probably not true. She wondered when she’d stop thinking every stranger worked for Rick Allen. Maybe never.

Besides, if he were working for her husband, he’d have called in the cavalry by now, and Rick would be banging down her door. Right? He wouldn’t take a morning off to go snorkeling.

He dived down to the silty bottom and brought up a small shiny piece of metal. Trash from a fishing boat, most likely. He broke the surface of the water and Cate followed. He spat out his snorkel as he held out the hook and line.

“This doesn’t belong there,” he said, and grinned.

“You’ve probably done enough cleaning,” Cate said, nodding with approval to Tack’s small mesh bag, which he’d filled with trash. “Ready for a break?”

Tack nodded, and the two of them swam back to the boat. The wind kicked up, and as the boat rocked back and forth, it was a little bit harder to get the ladder, especially with the swells about three feet instead of one.

Tack nodded to the rocking boat.

“Ladies first,” he said. Cate felt like arguing. After all, he was her guest, but somehow, she knew she wouldn’t win. She swam for the ladder, which was bucking up and down, and she managed to get hold of it. The wind blew harder and the boat dipped dangerously to the right, and she slipped, bumping her head hard against the second rung. Stars blurred her vision and for a paralyzing second, she thought she’d black out...go under...drown.

Suddenly, though, Tack was there, keeping her from falling off the ladder, pressing his body against hers, his strong arms cinched around her, holding her in place. Cate felt the hardness of his muscles, the safety of his thick arms. They felt so...right. She leaned into him, her vision returning. She glanced up at him and saw the salt water dripping from his chin, his eyes trained on hers, worried.

“You okay?”

“Uh...yeah,” she managed to say as she worked on climbing awkwardly up the ladder—fins still on, wondering why she turned into the world’s biggest klutz anytime Tack was near her. Normally, she wasn’t so clumsy or careless. But how come every time Tack was around she found herself in peril? First the near car accident and now this. Honestly, he was going to think she was the clumsiest woman on earth. Tack eased himself on board, kicking off his fins on deck.

“You should sit down,” he said, taking her by the shoulder and maneuvering her to the nearest cushioned bench. She sat, still feeling a little bit dazed. Tack knelt in front of her, and she was more than aware the man was half naked, wearing only swim trunks. She glanced down at his navel, and immediately realized her mistake. The expanse of bare, tanned skin, with that tantalizing V running down like a welcoming arrow to his lap, made her want to reach out and touch it, feel just how taut the muscles were beneath the skin. “Let me take a look.”

“I’m fine.” Cate covered her forehead with her palm, the sting of the hit only just beginning to fade. She pulled her attention reluctantly from his chest and met his gaze. He ran a hand over his dark hair, wet from snorkeling.

“This is getting embarrassing. You rescuing me all the time.” Cate tried to sound playful but instead just sounded grumpy. “I really am not usually this accident prone.”

“Really?” Tack made a disgruntled sound in his throat to show her how little he believed that. “Let me look.” He gently peeled her hand away, assessing her forehead for damage. “You’re going to have a serious knot there, by the looks of things. But...” He trailed off, meeting her eyes once more. How did he get so close to her? There was an intensity there in his gaze, so powerful that she felt the need to break the stare, but then realized her mistake. Now she was focused on his lips, slightly parted, almost as if asking her to kiss him as he knelt in front of her.

And then, her brain simply shut off. She forgot to be anxious or worried, or overthink anything. She forgot why it was she avoided men, why she worked so hard all the time to keep herself carefully removed from anyone who might find out her dark secret. In that moment, instinct took over. She inched a little closer, their lips nearly touching.

She paused suddenly, right before they touched, suddenly frozen by second thoughts. What am I doing? Am I really going to kiss this man? But before she could back away, retreat, his lips covered hers, and she felt the rest of the world melt away. She could taste the salty sea and felt the gentle exploration of his mouth on hers. It had been a long time since she’d kissed anyone, and yet her mouth remembered exactly what to do.

He began gently, a tentative touch, his expert lips on hers in a perfect dance. She’d forgotten how intimate a kiss was, how amazing it could be, closing her eyes and letting the warm, delicious sensation overtake her. She pressed her lips against his, wrapping her hands around the back of his strong neck. Want ran through her body, hot and searing, as the kiss turned deeper. Her lips parted as she felt the delicious warm wetness of his tongue. She felt like a switch had been thrown, and her body came alive, wanting more, ever more.

He pulled her down to him, and she went, their chests pressing against one another as they knelt together on the boat. Wet from the water, his muscled chest slid against hers. She felt desire rise in her, a strong need she hadn’t felt in months. All she wanted to do was devour him, inch by inch.

Suddenly, a loud blast of a horn sounded, wrecking the moment. Cate pulled back, a little dazed, her eyes blinking back the bright sun. The horn sounded again, and she saw it came from a huge, white boat, blaring music and crowded with tourists, that had inched up to them, parking nearly right next to her smaller boat. She could hear the eighties hairband music blasting across the water.

Tack glared at the intrusion. Cate groaned.

“Great,” she murmured.

“You know that boat?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” Reluctantly, Cate pulled herself to her feet. Tack did the same. “Terry Blake owns that boat.”

His tour excursion service had beaten out hers—and many others—to deal exclusively with two of the major cruise lines. He was also probably the most obnoxious and full of himself man on the island. Terry, with his sleek bald head, ample gut and furry gray chest, didn’t care about anything but having a good time—and making sure all of his guests were usually hammered. He’d nearly clipped her boat more than once in these narrow coves. He was reckless and dangerous.