Chapter Four

 

Moving onto the second dining hall after striking out in the Oceanic Restaurant, Brent paced through the rows of tables with the tact of an elephant. He didn’t care about the curious glances. He read the faces, and if he didn’t recognize them, he moved on. But at one table he did identify a face, only it wasn’t Jill. It was the blond woman who sat next to her at the casino. A quick scan of the woman’s features revealed a resemblance to Jill, but it was when she turned her head in profile that the likeness was cinched. In that regal side view, he could estimate what Jill would look like in thirty years.

Now what?

There was no time to argue decorum. Jill was not here and he needed to locate her. When he would have swooped in with a polite introduction, Jill’s mother picked that moment to look up, anticipating her waiter. Recognition widened her eyes−eyes that were brown, but with the same near almond shape of Jill’s. Her mouth opened in surprise and then she managed a level, “Hello.”

“Good morning,” he began, fumbling for his next words. “My name is Brent. I met your lovely daughter yesterday and I−” You what? “And I owe her a pair of sunglasses,” Lame. “Do you know where she’s at?”

An exchange of glances volleyed between Jill’s mother and the stout dark-haired woman with glasses beside her.

“She told me that you had a date with someone else on the ship. I don’t appreciate a lothario chasing after my daughter.”

It occurred to Brent that there were more than just physical similarities between mother and daughter. They were both very headstrong and neither was reluctant to voice the first thing that came to mind. Jill’s mother looked polished in her aqua blouse and white button earrings, but her stare was shrewd and her mouth was unsmiling.

“My date,” he emphasized, “was with a business acquaintance−something I could not get out of. And now I’ve been searching for your daughter ever since.”

With the window behind her, sunlight radiated off of her blond hair, blinding him to the judgment on her face.

“Mrs. Perry,” he hesitated, not certain she bore the same last name, but her brief nod confirmed it. “My name is Brent Coales. I design boats for a living and I have a house in Tampa−not on the water, but two blocks away. I graduated from the University of Florida, and I drive a Jeep. I’m not married and I don’t have a girlfriend because the work schedule has been very demanding. I don’t even have a dog. A friend convinced me to go on this cruise, and I met your charming daughter, and accidentally knocked her sunglasses overboard. Before I got the chance to repay her, business called me away as it usually does.” He paused to draw a breath and found that her implacable expression had not altered.

“When you see her, if you could just−” his voice faded because he honestly did not know how to complete the sentence.

The woman continued to study him and then said, “Jill Ann is a Gator.”

Jill Ann. A University of Florida alum as well. For him it was nearly fifteen years ago. He wondered when she graduated.

“I honestly can’t tell you where she is, Mr. Coales. She said she was going to find a beach on the island and that she would meet us for dinner. You are welcome to join us later.”

Some of the tension between his shoulders receded. Brent smiled and nodded, wondering what it would be like to have a woman like Jill in his life, and a mother in-law as well.

“Thank you, Mrs. Perry. It was nice to meet you.” He extended his smile towards her guest and added, “You ladies have a wonderful breakfast.”

Brent walked away feeling their eyes bore a hole in the back of his head. For several steps the smile still tugged on his lips, but the thought of reaching Jill and making sure Luis had not touched her sobered him. He exited the dining room and started downstairs for the gangway.

***

 

 

Grand Turk Cruise Center was breathtaking. Jill stepped out of the shadows of the Neptune Majesty onto a pier where just a three hundred foot walk away laid turquoise water and a white sand beach. At the end of the pier sat Margaritaville Restaurant, wrapped by a lavish pool already filled with bodies−and it was not even 9:00am. The beach, with the stately cruise ship towering over it was also jammed with an influx of tourists. After a polite inquiry to a nearby sun-hat kiosk owner, Jill learned that South Beach was much quieter, and set off on foot after being assured it wasn’t a long walk.

The hike along the beach was worth it, as she passed by a thatch-roofed bar and a series of single-story pastel-colored villas. Stopping only when her knee acted up, Jill was relieved to settle down atop her rainbow towel and dig her toes into the warm sand. It was still early enough that the sand didn’t scorch her feet, and early enough to lay back in the sun without worrying about getting burned. Shading her eyes with her hand, Jill saw the Neptune Majesty moored offshore only a half mile away and smiled.

Alright Mom, she conceded, this isn’t so bad.

One last peripheral glimpse revealed the closest humans were a young couple donning snorkeling gear several hundred yards away. Behind her, the string of villas were either unoccupied or the residents had not yet woken. Jill sank back against the towel, still in her sundress, waiting till the heat offset the trade winds.

Nearing a state of nirvana with the smell of the ocean and the distant sound of activity, Jill didn’t hear the tread approaching, but she felt it. A thump thump in the sand that grew closer until she sensed a shadow−as if a cloud obstructed the sun.

Jill opened her eyes and saw a silhouette standing over her. She sucked in a gulp of air and started to cough when a speck of sand lodged at the back of her throat. Propping up on her elbows she gasped out, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

Brent didn’t wait for an invitation and dropped down in the sand beside her. His sunglasses were on and obscured his eyes, but the grin was enough to make her start coughing again. When the fit finally subsided she took in his navy shorts now dusted with white granules, and the loose cotton shirt billowing in the breeze, exposing a glimpse of his chest.

“If I recall,” she said, “when last we left off, you gave me the boot, Mr. Coales.”

Brent did not answer and kept his gaze on the ocean, affording her the opportunity to study his profile. His was a pensive silhouette, the muscles along his jaw clenching as the auburn hair tickled some of the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. The scar was visible to her now and it stood out like a thin line of chalk written on a tan sidewalk.

“We’re back to Mr. Coales,” he murmured, still not looking at her. “You’re right, Jill. I was upset because you were insinuating yourself into something that you shouldn’t have.”

Jill mulled that over. “Regardless, I don’t appreciate being chastised by someone I don’t know. I was naïve. I had no idea you were shady.”

The scar disappeared and his cheek curved into a smile. “I’m not shady.”
“What are you doing here? You made yourself pretty clear.” She glanced past him at the vacant beach trying to locate aid if she required it. “And if you could find me here, how did you have so much trouble with him?”

“Well, your mother gave me a clue as far as where you were.”

“My mother!” Jill hefted off her elbows and sat up straight, searching the path back to the cruise center, expecting her mother and Betsy to appear at any moment. “You talked to my mother?”

“I was looking for you, but I found her instead.” Brent turned and grinned. “And she has a lot of your traits, I must say.”

“I am nothing like my mother,” she huffed. “So, what was so damn important that you had to track me down here? Did you lose him again and need my help?”

Brent forced a laugh. “No. I−”

His arms rested atop his knees and he gazed out towards the moored cruise ship. The pose made the span of his back all the more evident. It was wide and tapered down to a narrow waist, and it looked forged by a great artist. For a long time he remained silent and Jill decided she was in no rush. She was almost tempted to lie back down.

“Luis is a corrupt and dangerous man, and I was worried about you.”

Perhaps it was the gravity with which it was uttered, but for the first time the implication of his statement set in.

“Because I saw him, you think I’m in danger? And now you’re here to keep an eye on me.”

His silence made goose bumps spring up on her arms. To this point she never perceived any danger with Brent Coales. Heck, it was a Caribbean cruise. What type of danger could there be? Now she realized how ignorant she was. Still, she seriously doubted someone who looked like Brent could be involved in any unsavory business dealings. And Luis, as he had addressed him, seemed a caricature, not a legitimate antagonist.

“If that’s the case,” she continued. “By being with me, you’re not ensuring my safety, you’re jeopardizing it.”

He turned his head and took off his sunglasses and she saw torment there.

“Yesterday I was jeopardizing your safety by being with you. Now we’re beyond that.”

Jill absorbed the statement and wanted to grab her belongings and throw them into her big purse and sprint back to the ship.

“Jill.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes and looked pained. “I’m not a criminal if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“What are you, then?”

He looked out at the ocean and she detected a sense of longing in him.

“I’m a marine structural engineer. I design boats for my parent’s boating company.”

“You mentioned that. It sounds routine, so where does the drama come into play?”

He was silent for a long time, but again she wasn’t going to push. She listened to the seagulls circling overhead and the crackle of the palms behind her and tried to quell her nerves.

“I have a childhood friend who is pretty affluent,” he started. “And now someone is trying to blackmail him.”

Jill sat forward, alert now. “So, he can call the authorities and have it taken care of.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes,” she argued. “Yes it is.”

Brent smirked. “Look, I can’t get into it all. Just know that I’ll stay out of your way so you can enjoy your cruise, but I won’t stay far away. Luis has no interest in you, and I want to make sure that doesn’t change.”

Jill curled her knees up under her chin, and clasped her palm over her scar.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” Brent turned towards her. “But I also felt that you needed an explanation.”

She nodded at the words that came to her in echoes. “I’m no fool. I know you’ve told me about 10% of the story, but it’s also none of my business.” Acknowledging that, she still plodded forward. “So is this Luis guy doing the blackmailing?”

Brent shook his head. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“You said it yourself−that I needed an explanation.”

“Not that much of one. But okay, yes, he is the man doing the blackmailing.’

“You can get the ship’s security to help you.”

“Jill,” he sighed. “I can’t.”

She sensed his futility and asked, “What can you possibly do by yourself?”

“Whatever I have to.”

Jill could see a muscle spasm at the top of his jaw. “It must be one damn good friend,” she remarked.

Brent barked a quick laugh. “Yeah, that he is.”

As the sun inched up in the sky, so did the temperature. Only a few yards away the allure of tranquil azure water beckoned Jill with a siren’s song. Brent confused her and his predicament made her anxious, and yet she hated the cloak of torment that surrounded him. If what he said was true, his greatest weakness was loyalty, and loyalty was one of the strongest traits to attract her. Not to mention loyalty packaged in one incredibly hot man. She would give this man a cautious berth, but she was not ready to run…yet.

“I’m going to cool off a little bit.” Jill rose and kept her back towards him as she stepped out of the sundress.

She sought to conceal two features−the slash on her knee, and the bruise on her stomach. Without looking back, she marched into the tepid water until both atrocities were obscured. She soon perceived the soft laps of his approach behind her.

***

Brent heard her walk away, her feet making a soft crush against the sand. His head hurt with the effort to leave, but the haunting implications of Luis’s letter commanded that he stay. As Brent looked up and saw her backside in the royal blue bikini, and the well-toned tan legs slicing through the water, something else commanded him to stay. As if he was the sun and she was the horizon, Brent was drawn towards Jill and followed her into the sea.

She stood with her back towards him, the water lapping just below the knotted string of her bikini top. Her arms drew soft patterns in the ocean and her head was tilted back towards the sun.

“You’re still here?” she asked in hushed reverence to the tranquility around them.

Drops of water glistened on her shoulders. He longed to place his hands there, but she did not belong to him.

“Some things are hard to stay away from.”

That statement might have been a little too earnest because Jill swirled around in the water. The quick motion and the sun’s heat combined to make her unstable as he heard her cry out in pain. With no more than a breath, his hands were on those shoulders, righting her, his head dipped to look into her eyes.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I stepped on a shell, I think. Something cut my foot.” She smacked the water in frustration and the spray settled on his chest.

Though the water was translucent enough to see the white sand on the bottom, it was like looking through saran wrap. At least no cloud of blood marred the milky foundation. In his grasp he could feel Jill favoring one foot. Without considering the action, he reached down and swiped an arm behind her knees to haul her up into his grasp.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Jill screeched. One of her arms hooked around him while the other scrambled for freedom.

“Easy,” he said, drawing her closer. “Let’s get you back on the towel and have a look at it. Nothing like walking through sand on an open wound.”

Her expression indicated that his rationalization did not pacify her. With eyebrows knitted in a frown and her lips pressed together, Jill’s bottom lip stuck out. He was fascinated with her mouth, and he was hypnotized by the racing beat of her heart against his chest. Wet flesh caressed wet flesh, the sensation sinful enough to almost make him growl. He felt her thigh rub his abdomen and indulged in the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest. Eyes that reflected the turquoise ocean watched him, as her frown slowly receded. Her free hand stopped flailing and came to rest atop her knee rather than clutch his shoulder for support.

He would have been fine. He could have started walking towards shore with this weightless woman in his arms, but he caught her gaze drop to his mouth. He felt her eyes on his lips and it was all he could do not to dip his head the few inches that separated his mouth from hers. In fact, he was losing the battle and he stared at her lips, now parted on a breath.

“Jill.” The word spilled without thought.

Everything−Luis, Al, the Neptune Majesty−everything ceased to exist and his mind was consumed with one notion. Touch those lips. Kiss them. Dive in and immerse yourself in that heat.

“Brent−”

The focus of his attention opened to speak. It jarred him. She watched as if each of them awaited the next move. Clarity returned and Brent resumed his stride towards shore. With each step, the water receded and he could feel the weight of her in his arms. This time she had to loop her arm across his shoulder for support which splayed her breasts tighter against his chest. Mercy.

He reached dry sand and set her down on top of the rainbow-colored towel. Jill curled up immediately with her knees tucked under her chin.

“How am I supposed to look at your foot?”

“I didn’t ask you to.” She sounded petulant and seemed to realize it. She extended her leg.

Brent traced the curve of her calf with his hand and tried to lift her foot for inspection, but her defensive posture left him little slack.

“Can you please lie back so I can get a better look?”

Brent couldn’t understand the challenge in her eyes.

After a huffed, “Fine”, she reclined against the towel. He lowered his head to inspect the cut on her heel. It wasn’t too bad. The saltwater had cleaned it out, and as long as she kept her foot out of the sand until it had time to dry up, she would be fine. He set her leg down on the towel and rolled back on his heels.

“You’ll be okay. Just stay off it−”

His glance scaled her leg and landed on the scar running vertically across her knee. From the raised surface of the score he suspected it was from recent surgery. Prepared to ask her about it, he caught sight of the discolored patch of skin on her stomach.

“Oh God.” He wiped a hand over his face to erase the image.

“I know it’s hideous.” Jill threw her sundress over her knee.

She shuffled on her elbows, hoisting herself up, but Brent placed his palm flat on her abdomen, stilling her.

“Lay back down,” he commanded in a gentle voice.

Beneath his hand, the heat of Jill’s skin and erratic pattern of her breath tempted him. Her glance fought against his but she relinquished and settled back onto her elbows.

He brushed his palm aside to expose the bruise, but he would not leave contact with her flesh.

“I did that to you,” he whispered.

Jill glanced down at her stomach. “It really doesn’t hurt that much.”

The contusion was a purple strip scoring her stomach−a stamp of impact from the railing. The sight of it staggered Brent. He had done this to her. An innocent woman, minding her own business and he had slammed the craziness of his life upon her. Not only was there this visible exclamation mark for all of his stupidity, but there was the fact that she was in danger now due to him. Luis knew her face.

Luis was just a grunt, and Brent was certain that the peril lie ahead for him once he reached Alfredo’s parents. But Luis could not be discounted. He could still inflict harm or worse. The sight of that bruise across soft, sun-kissed skin tormented Brent. So much so, that he was powerless as he stooped over to brush his lips against the tarnished flesh.

Beneath him, Jill jumped. His splayed hand kept her still for another pass of his lips until finally he retreated to meet her confused gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Her voice was hoarse. “Sorry for the bruise, or for−” She glanced from his lips to her stomach and back to his lips before finally looking him in the eye.

He wasn’t sorry for that kiss, but damn it took all amounts of control not to slide her back against the towel and resume what he had started. From the moment he had lifted her into his arms, he was beguiled by her lips and wanted to feel their texture−to part them with his own and taste the pleasure he was certain awaited there.

“I’m sorry to have met you like this−” Brent hesitated, “−because if it had been any other time, in any other manner, I could have never stopped myself from kissing you.”

***

Jill struggled to breathe. Since the moment she felt his lips on her stomach, oxygen had fled her. Brent’s husky declaration did not help. Even now his intense glance bore into her and she felt light-headed with a need that she could not put a name to. She wanted to sit up so that she could touch his face and slide his mouth towards hers, having already felt how gentle his lips could stroke her skin.

Brent cleared his throat and sat back out of range so that once again the sun consumed him as she had to squint to distinguish anything more than a shady profile.

“What happened to your knee?”

She could feel his eyes bore through the sundress resting atop the scar. Damn, the two unsightly blemishes she didn’t want him to see−although he had kissed one of those ugly flaws as if it were something beautiful. Only now was Jill conscious of how hot it had become. The cloudless sky provided no respite from the orb directly overhead. She formed a shield over her eyes with her hand so that she could better see Brent. Concern sharpened his features, not revulsion. Perhaps the revulsion only belonged to her, and the rest of the world simply saw a scar.

“I had surgery five and a half months ago. ACL. The patellar tendon.”

Brent’s frown grew. “What happened?”

Why was she embarrassed to answer? Everyone reminded her that she was not behind the wheel. But, it was the fact that she wasn’t behind the wheel that was the source of her shame.

“A car accident,” she mumbled.

She felt his shadow cross over her as he moved in closer. Her body stiffened in anticipation.

“My God, are you okay?”

His eyes traced over every visible patch of skin and she wished she still wore the sundress instead of exposing so much in the bikini.

“Yes, please, can we just move on to something else? Like, why aren’t you back on the ship searching for your guy?”

He winced. At least she had deflected him, but he didn’t seem to want to respond so she pulled her foot up and analyzed the damage. Brent had startled her when he approached her from behind in the water. Spinning around, her knee had buckled and she jumped with her other foot to stabilize herself…and landed directly on a shell. Looking at the small slash now, she nearly laughed at the absurdity of it compared to some of the rehabilitation she had to go through.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

Jill’s head jerked up. “Excuse me?”

“I want to−”

There was something about the expression on his face. His eyes eluded her and the lack of any sort of smile made his fishtail scar more prominent. She could see it clearly because his head was in profile, his gaze still locked on her bruise to the point that she felt it best to yank the sundress off her knee and throw it across her stomach.

Sensations assaulted her as she recalled being hoisted into his arms in the ocean. She could still feel his wet muscles caress her body, and later, the heated course of his lips just above her belly button. The prospect of a romantic dinner with this man made her dizzy, but there was no romance in the eyes that avoided hers. There was no hand-holding or traditional dating signals here. There was implacable resolve.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “You−” she struggled to put the pieces in place. “You think I’m not safe. That Luis guy saw me and you think I’m not safe now. You’re here to keep an eye on me.” The more she spoke the more sense it made, and the more riled she became. “You want dinner tonight so that you can kill two birds with one stone. Keep an eye on Luis and keep an eye on me.”

Jill no longer cared about what was awkward or not. She grabbed the sundress and hoisted it over her head, thrusting her arms through and yanking the material down over her hips. She pulled her sandals on and rose with her towel in hand, ready to shake out the excess sand. She started at Brent’s quick ascent. Before she knew what was happening he had a grip on her arms and he was pulling her in tight against him so that his mouth was close enough for her to feel the breath born from his words.

“I want you to have dinner with me−” his voice was hoarse, “−because I am having a tough time keeping my hands off of you and I need to torture myself some more.”

Jill shivered at his declaration. Her pulse beat in double-time, but she delved into his eyes, searching their shadows for the truth. She whispered, “You are protecting me.” Her head shook and she managed a step of retreat. “I don’t need to be protected. Go chase your blackmailer. Stay safe, because yes, I will still be concerned. But I will go on and enjoy my cruise as you’ve instructed time and time again.”