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Burn: A Novel Page 28
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Soon. This would be over soon. Then he and Jenner would have themselves a long talk.
JENNER TRIED TO DISMISS all her worries and enjoy the snorkeling, but it was difficult when Cael was always so close. What did he think she was going to do, swim to safety? She gave herself a stern talking to. No, he wasn’t hovering over her, not today, he was staying nearby for safety. She should be accustomed to him being constantly close at hand, so his closeness shouldn’t affect her at all. But it did, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Like it or not, the condom she’d hidden in her underwear drawer was on her mind. How could it not be? It made the possibility of what might happen, what could happen, very, very real.
She floated on the water as colorful fish darted past, under her body, right before her eyes. She loved the feel of the ocean against her skin as she pushed through the water, propelled forward by her arms and the gentle kick of her feet. It was like swimming in a huge tank of tropical fish, like being a part of the ocean instead of an observer. Eventually she almost forgot that Cael was with her. She couldn’t entirely dismiss him, but she almost forgot that she’d been sleeping handcuffed, held prisoner, made to play a role as Syd’s life was threatened, too. The water flowing over her skin, the abundant fish all around, was too soothing. If only she could stay here …
She lifted her head, and glanced behind her to see that she’d drifted farther from shore than she’d imagined. Still, when she straightened, her feet touched the sandy bay floor. Cael was close by—naturally—and when she stood, so did he. She pulled off her mask, deeply inhaling the fresh air.
They were far away from everything, truly alone in the world, and she was tired of guessing, tired of playing games. Her life was not a game; neither was Syd’s. They needed some truth between them.
“I’m not stupid,” she said.
Cael removed his mask and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying. He was a head taller than she, wet, and in better physical shape than any man she’d ever seen in the flesh. She loved the way he looked right now, more bare than not and soaking wet. He wiped away the water that dripped down his face. “I’ve pretty much figured that out for myself.”
“You can trust me,” she said. “Stop treating me like I’m a prisoner.”
“But that’s what you are, like it or not.”
“Don’t be a bonehead,” she muttered, exasperated. She was trying to make a gesture, call a truce. “You’re the good guys, all right? I can see that. I can put a puzzle together. Larkin’s slime, and he’s involved in something dirty. You’re trying to get the goods on him. I get it.”
His expression was so controlled she couldn’t read a thing from it. “I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change anything.”
She thought she might explode from frustration. He had to make everything so damn difficult. “Why don’t you go swim over there?” she said between gritted teeth, flinging her arm out and waving.
“I like it here.”
“I can make things easier for you, or I can make things difficult.”
“Ditto.”
He was maddening. She shouted “Numb-nuts,” then put her mask back on, turned her back on Cael, and gently reentered the water. Even with the water around her ears, she heard him laugh right before the muted splash that told her he was joining her.
She floated on top of the water, not working, not paddling, just there. She wanted to trust Cael; she wanted to be trusted. Was that too much to ask? Floating in the water, reaching toward a brightly colored fish that darted away from her, she let herself let go and just drifted. She did her best to stop worrying, to stop thinking. The problem was, when she let her guard down, old memories always shot to the surface and she got lost in another time, another breach of trust.
It surprised her, that her mind went back so quickly and easily. She hadn’t realized how she’d carried the betrayals of the past so strongly within her, all these years. She was always waiting to be hurt, to be used, and that had kept her from forming close bonds with any but the most trusted, who were Syd and Al. She didn’t allow anyone else to get close, didn’t allow herself to let down her guard long enough for anyone to break her heart. Not a man, not a friend.
She didn’t mourn the loss of Dylan, or even her own father, but Michelle was a different story. Jenner doubted the woman she’d become and the woman Michelle was now would have anything in common, but suddenly she missed her old friend as much as if they had had their falling out just yesterday.
With all the stress of the past week, suddenly it seemed unimportant to carry a grudge for long ago indiscretions. Michelle had been an important part of her life for a very long time, and even if those days were long gone, even if she couldn’t get back what she’d once had, her life had been richer for having Michelle in it. She wouldn’t take back a single day even if she had the chance.
Years ago she’d walked away from Michelle and she’d never looked back. When this was over—and with every day that passed she was more certain that it would end with her and Syd unharmed and together again—would she walk away from Cael as easily as she had walked away from her old life? Would she cut him out of her mind and, yes damn it, her heart?
Would she even have the chance? The choice? She’d probably wake up one morning and he’d just be gone, leaving her life as abruptly as he’d entered it.
She thought of Michelle again, their celebrations and conversations and arguments, and she smiled. There had been more good times than bad, and though she’d denied them, she hadn’t forgotten. They were a part of who she was, even though she’d changed so much since those days. Even Dylan and Jerry had served their purposes in making her who she was today. She didn’t have any desire to see either of them ever again, but in her own way, she forgave them as she swam in this place that was like another world.
When she came up out of the water, Cael was, as always, close by. There was no one else in the cove, though that might not last.
She walked toward him, her movements slow and easy as she worked against the water, which lapped around her breasts. She pulled off her mask, shook the water out of her hair.
“The first night we were onboard, you made me kiss you.”
He pulled off his mask, too, watching her with hooded eyes. “People were watching,” he said flatly. “It was necessary.”
“No one’s watching now,” she said as she came to a stop, so close she was almost touching him. She tilted her head back and looked up at him. She pushed away her anger, her frustration, her hurt, and tried to let herself look at Cael as nothing more than a man. From the beginning she’d been attracted to him, drawn to him in an instinctive way, but she’d fought her response to him—as would any right-minded woman who found herself in the same situation.
But everything wasn’t as it had initially seemed, she knew that now. And she didn’t want to lose him. What a kick in the ass that was!
“Kiss me again,” she said. “Not because anyone’s watching and you have to, not because it’s necessary but just … because.”
He blew out a breath. “That’s not a good idea.” His smooth voice had a rough edge to it, one that made everything in her tighten in response.
“Agreed,” she said. “Do it anyway.”
He didn’t move. She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the crispness of hair, the warmth of his skin, the pound of his heart.
“Kiss me,” she said again, and her own heart was thudding so hard and fast she could barely breathe. “With no one to sell it to but the fishes.”
She took the half-step forward that brought her against him, he put his arm around her and pulled her close, and he closed his mouth over hers.
There was no fear this time, no panic. She leaned into him, got lost in the sensations of his mouth on hers, his wet body against hers. His heat was a sharp contrast to the coolness of the water, of her wet skin, and she drank it in.
The isolation, the water, the feel of Cael’s skin against hers and