In Too Deep (39 page)

Hand in hand, they raced up the beach toward the protection of the trees.

"Go. Go. Go," Michael yelled, running hard and fast through the soft sand, pulling Tally with him. Breathless, she clung to his hand and damn near flew across the beach. Sand clung to their wet feet and ankles like cement shoes.

BOOM!

The first explosion shook the ground. The percussion reverberated across the sand and water in waves. Even though she was expecting it, Tally shrieked and instinctively tried to look over her shoulder. Michael kept her running.

Just the appetizer.

Fifteen seconds to the big one.

His heels bit into the soft, dry sand, his long legs eating up the distance to safety. Tally's feet barely made contact as sand rooster-tailed in their wake.

A barrage of debris followed them. Rocks, boulders, sand, and vegetation rained down in a dangerous hail.

Fourteen.

Michael played dodge 'em, dragging Tally with him in a mad dash across the beach. "Move. Move. Move!"

Thirteen.

Almost carrying her because his legs were longer and stronger, he staggered as something heavy slammed into his shoulder. He almost fell, and this time it was Tally who jerked him upright. "Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Twelve.

Eleven.

He veered to the left, toward the tree line.
Ten
. His arm wrapped around Tally's waist, lifting her, propelling her along ahead of him.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Their feet hit the shrubs and sea grasses.
Six
. Michael threw her to the ground behind a ridge of dunes and rocks.
Five
. He flung his body over hers, and covered her head with his arms.

Four.

Three.

Two.

BOOM!

The earth shuddered. Sand danced on the beach like fleas.

He buried his face against Tally's neck. Rocks and debris flew over them as if in the grip of a tornado. Her body trembled beneath his from the exertion of running flat out, and from his suffocating weight. Michael pressed down, covering as much of her body as he could.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

He absorbed the sound, relished the percussion, as the mountainside blew up. The cacophony of destruction was music to his ears. And despite the falling crap bulleting into his back, Michael grinned in satisfaction.

When he was pretty sure the chance of shrapnel was gone, he enjoyed the silence, punctuated now and then with a loud crash, as more cliff broke free and fell with a tremendous splash into the ocean below.

As quickly as it had started, it was over.

Silence.

Blessed, triumphant silence.

"Omph," Tally said from beneath him.

Jubilant, feeling no pain, Michael rolled off her and jumped to his feet, pulling her up beside him. Sand, rocks, and bits of plant life dropped off his body. "Hoo-yah!"

"Is it over?" She brushed leaves and dirt out of her hair and stared at the raw scar on the cliff side.

He grinned. "Hell, no. It's just beginning."

"Crud," she said, dismayed. "What's left to blow up?"

Michael laughed, and wrapped his arms around her. "No more big bangs. Not that kind, anyway." He pulled her tightly against him, loving the tensile strength of her slender body in his arms.

He couldn't stop touching her. Her face, her throat, her hair. He brushed his mouth across her forehead, then just stood there, her body pressed to his, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. "Jesus, Tally," he said thickly. "I was scared I'd be too late."

"And I was afraid Trevor would kill you." She slid her arms around his waist, her small hands on the small of his back holding tightly to his shirt. "I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you. I wasn't sure—I didn't think—"

"That I'd go in the water?"

She nodded. "I didn't expect you to. For me." She shivered, despite the tropical heat.

"The thought of losing you"—Michael buried his face in her hair, inhaled her scent, and closed his eye on a prayer of gratitude that was soul deep—"I would've walked through hell and back to find you."

She pulled back, looked up at him, and smiled as she cupped his battered face. "You
did
, Michael."

Yeah, he thought, he'd fought his own private hell. But had he won heaven? "Let's head back to Auntie's and get you patched up and into dry clothes. It's been a hell of a day."

"Good idea." But she didn't move; she just stroked her thumbs across his cheekbones with a gentle touch. He saw pain and sadness in her eyes. "You conquered your dragon to save me," she said.

"I didn't have a choice." He reached up and caught one of her hands in his. "You were my touchstone."

Her lashes came down and shut him out. She released his shirt and stepped back, and his fingers lost contact with her skin. He felt bereft.

"Nice to know that I proved useful after all. Not quite what you had in mind, I know. But, hey"—she wrapped her arms around her waist—"it's unfortunate that Trevor didn't give a rat's ass about me. Think how much more fun it would have been if he'd given a damn."

Michael shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his wet jeans so he didn't reach for her. He kept his gaze steady. "Just because
he
was an ass doesn't diminish in any way who
you
are, Tally."

"I know." She looked… lost.

No matter what kind of man Trevor Church was, and no matter that Tally
knew
it, Trevor Church had been her father. And Michael had killed him.
Hell
. He'd known this moment would have to come. He just hadn't been looking forward to it.

"I came here to kill him, Tally. No apologies. He was responsible for killing Hugo, for the loss of my eye, and consequently my navy career. And that was just the personal stuff. He was one of the seriously bad guys. Hell, I don't have to tell you what kind of man he was.

"You weren't supposed to be here. So, yeah, when I realized who you were, using you was in the cards."

"Understandable," she said reasonably as she watched him, head tilted. Waiting? For an explanation? A logical rationale? For him to walk away? To grab her and kiss her?

Shit. He was lousy at this man-woman stuff. Was she pissed? Hurt? Indifferent? "I didn't know you then," he said. The truth, no frills. Just the facts, ma'am.

"If you had?"

He hesitated. "I don't know," Michael admitted. "Getting Church was the only thing that kept me alive for so long—I don't know if I could have given that up. Even for you."

She plucked her wet and sand-crusted shirt away from her skin with a small grimace as she watched him. "If I'd known then what I know now, I wouldn't have asked you to."

"I couldn't take that chance. I did what I came to do."

"I'm glad you killed him. He was a sick, twisted son of a bitch." She started to walk down the beach toward Auntie's.

That had gone pretty well, Michael thought as he followed her.

There was probably a square inch on her body that didn't hurt, but Tally was hard-pressed to figure out where that might be. But the outside was nothing compared with how badly her heart ached. She'd learned a lot about herself in a short time. And one of those things was that she had a tendency to love where it wasn't wanted. She'd better learn to stop doing that.

"What now?" Michael asked, close but not touching.

What now
? How like a man, after all they'd been through. Tally couldn't look at him. If she did, everything she felt would be right there on her face for him to see. Eyes front, one foot in front of the other. She refused to look at him. She refused to beg. And, damn it, she thought blinking rapidly, she refused to cry. "I'm going to do the only thing left to do. Call the charter company and see how soon I can get a flight out."

Michael put a hand on her arm. She stopped dead and tried not to react to his touch. Right. Like telling a match not to react to being struck.

"Come with me, Tally," Michael said urgently. "Come with me and be my first mate on the
Nemesis
. Let's sail across the world together."

Narrowed-eyed, she looked up at him. "What does being a first mate entail?" How had he gotten so close? Tally refused to step back, and stood her ground while her heart did a loop-de-loop in her chest, her palms suddenly sweaty. "What are you offering me? A job? Or an affair with sightseeing privileges?"

He smiled. "Not a job. Not just an affair." A sea wind ruffled his drying hair. "We'll be lovers. Friends. Partners."

Her heart thudded. Disappointment warred with anticipation. "And when it's over?"

"It won't be."

"Why not?" She held her breath.
Don't get your hopes up, Tallulah. Pump that balloon too high and it's a long drop down to reality
.

His eye locked on her face. "Because I'm in love with you."

There it was. The brass ring. The words she'd waited most of her life to hear someone say to her. And the fact that it was Michael doing the talking only made them sweeter
. Still, darn it, she wanted,
needed
, more.

The pulse at the base of her throat sped up. Her eyes scanned his features as if she were reading the secret of the universe in his face. "We haven't even known each other a week."

"So? In Paradise Island time, that counts for about twenty years."

Tally couldn't help but laugh. It was shaky, and hopeful. But still a laugh. "Is that like dog years?"

His lips twitched. "You have to admit, it's been a hell of a few days." He took his hands out of his front pockets and reached out to stroke her bruised and battered cheek. "I learned you this week, Tally Cruise. Learned you enough to know that I love you. Enough to know I can't imagine my future without you."

She grabbed his hand and held on to it with both of hers. From somewhere in the distance, she heard the shouts of the island people, probably running for the beach to check out the commotion. But it didn't matter. The only person in the world who mattered was standing right in front of her, looking less confident than he had since the moment she'd met him.

"Hmm," Tally said, watching him. He needed a haircut, his jaw was shadowed and prickly, and he looked as though he'd been in a war. Which he had. He was being so sincere, and earnest, she wanted to tumble him onto the beach and ravish him right there on the spot. Her thumbs moved over the back of his hand, and she saw hope spark to life in his one gorgeous eye.

"No kidding, it's been a hell of a week." She looked up at him so he could read in her gaze how she felt. "I came to Paradise looking for… family. A connection. And if nothing else—closure. I found you when I didn't even know I was looking for you."

"Tally—"

"I'm not finished—"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "Let me say this. I love your strength, your straightforward approach to life. I love your bravery, your willingness to see the good in everyone. I love your confidence in yourself, and your ability to cut any problem down to bite-size pieces."

"Michael—"

"I understand your need to be sure I'll keep your heart safe. And I will. But I'm willing to give you all the time you need to be sure I'm what you want. We can take as long as we like to head Stateside. We ca—"

Tally shook her head and laughed.

Stunned, he just stared at her. "You're laughing? I'm pouring my heart out here, and you're laughing?"

"You're preaching to the choir, Michael."

"Huh?"

Tally wrapped her arms around him and held on, knowing she'd finally found the one place where she belonged. A strong sea breeze buffeted them, but they stayed strong, locked together. Just as they always would.

"I love you," she said simply, honestly. "I love that you're a man of honor in a world with too little of it. I love that you love me exactly as I am. I love that I feel safe in your arms. And I want you to know that you'll always be safe in mine."

"Are you sure?" he asked, studying her features.

"Michael? Have I ever given you the impression I'm a woman who doesn't know what she wants?"

He exhaled, and a brilliant, blinding smile lit his face. "Nope."

Tally stood on her tiptoes. "Then kiss me, sailor, and let's take the long way home."

Chapter Twenty-two

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Six Months Later

"Lucky, leave Duchess alone," Tally laughingly told the cat. "Look at him being territorial. Trying to oust a Great Dane, of all things. Silly cat, pick on someone your own size."

The huge dog shot her a grateful look, but the cat, with his ears back, snarled at Tally and went back to staring at the small pink bundle in her bassinet on the floor beside the dining room table. The baby cooed and smacked Lucky on the head with a little starfish hand. Lucky closed his eyes in ecstasy. He fell over, tail swishing back and forth, and purred loudly enough to be heard in the next room. Everyone at the table laughed.

Marnie, Michael's sister, smiled. "Duchess takes her babysitting duties seriously." The enormous dog did her best to guard her daughter from the furry intruder. Unfortunately, Lucky tried to scratch the dog's nose every time she came too close to her charge. The Great Dane lay as close as she dared, nose on her paws, brown eyes ever vigilant. "I think Lucky wants his own baby to look after."

"Lucky's going to have to wait," Michael said firmly, sharing a look with Tally, who gave him that sparkly eyed look he loved and, with studied innocence, wound her fingers between the long strand of lustrous black pearls around her neck while holding his gaze.

His own look promised retribution. Amazing that just a
glance
from Tally made his pulse race and his body hum.

Thanksgiving at his father's house in San Jose. And God knew, Michael was thankful. The people he cherished most in the world were right here. He let his gaze travel slowly down the table, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude.