Knowing Vera (Romantic Suspense, Family Drama) (Chance for Love) (19 page)

“You’re … you’re teasing me.” I wiggle myself against his erection.

He drops to his knees and unbuckles the belt securing his knife sheath. My heart is thudding, and I clutch my elbows as he withdraws the gleaming blade. I’m trying not to freak, but visions of gushing blood across a smooth white neck has me backing away. Narrowed blue eyes, murderous blue eyes, flash in my memory.

Zach’s face is impassive, stony as he sets the knife on the sand. Cupping his hand, he shakes out the sheath and closes his fist.

The sound of the surf collides with the pulse swishing behind my ears. What is going on? A minute ago he was being so romantic, saying all the right things, and now, so serious, with a sharp knife at his feet.

“Is everything okay?” I probe him.

He kisses my fingers and rubs my hand on his scratchy face. “Yes, I want you to marry me. Will you?”

He slips a ring with a diamond the size of rock candy onto the tip of my ring finger.

“Is this real?”

Chuckling, he bumps his forehead playfully on my chin. “Got it out of a cereal box.”

Reflected moonlight glints off its facets, a mesmerizing blue, like the brightest star in the Milky Way.

Zach clears his throat and peers up at me, rocking on his knees. “A simple yes or no would do. My knees are killing me.”

“Oh, sorry.” I grab his elbows to pull him up.

“Vera? Will you?”

“You’re serious.” My mouth is still gaping, and I can barely utter a coherent sentence. It’s not every day a naked man asks me to skinny dip with him on a deserted island and pulls a diamond ring out of his knife sheath.

I lean my forehead to his and sink to the soft sand next to him. Who cares what happens tomorrow? Who cares whose daughter I am? Who cares about the rest of the world? All I want is right here, right now, in this paradise, this man with the golden skin and golden hair. The man who holds my heart in his hand.

“Yes, Zach, I will.” My hands tremble, and I help him slip the ring on all the way. “I will stay with you for a lifetime, and forever after. I’ll love you always.”

The ring sparkling securely on my finger, I turn my face toward him.

Leaning over, he presses his lips gently over mine. “By the power vested to me on this island, I declare us husband and wife.”

How can I doubt this moment? It’s crazy, I know, but so primitively romantic that I giggle.

“What’s so funny, Mrs. Spencer?”

“Is this legally binding?” I doubt Zach is a preacher and has been endowed with power to declare marriages, however well endowed he is in other more important areas.

“Of course. I’m the king of this island.” With a growl, he pulls me down onto his chest and rolls me on the smooth sand.

His lips are tickling mine, and his breath brushes my upper lip. “How do you like our wedding bed? Before the night is over, I’ll have fucked your sweet brains to mush, Vera, mine.”

Oh, I love how dirty he talks.

Pressing down, he covers me and seals my mouth, his tongue dipping and thrusting in rhythm with his grinding hips. I want him, simply want him, like I’ve never wanted anyone before, and when he plunges in, I gasp at the tight fit. Mine, all mine, to have and to hold.

Zach moans and smothers me with kisses, loving me with his strokes. Nothing in this life has prepared me for the rapturous sensation of his girth filling me and pumping his love. I lose all coherency and control, my body taking flights of ecstasy, my legs wide open, completely vulnerable to his urgent demands.

His movements crash like the incoming surf, soothing yet exciting, rolling, one over another, each higher than the last. Grunting, he lifts my legs over his shoulders and impales the sensitive spot inside me, stroking and caressing it with exquisite care. Deftly tickling my nipples, he shows me how incredibly skilled he is.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he urges me. “Rock your butt up, that’s right, you’re so hot, so fuckin’ hot.”

“Zach, I can’t take this.” But no way do I want him to stop. “Oh … oh … harder.”

My fists are clenched under my butt, lifting me to meet each slippery thrust. Incredible waves of heat flare from my lower abdomen and pulse over and over my body, waves rolling over waves of spiraling contractions.

“Zach, Zach, Zach.” I huff to the rhythm of his assault. I want him on top so I slide my legs from his shoulders, and pull him over me, his weight solidly bearing down on me, every inch of me covered by his hard, muscular body, smothering me, crushing into me. My legs hold him tight as he shudders and groans, exhaling his pleasure and shooting his essence into the center of my soul. This is the closest two people can come, but it’s not enough. “I want more. Can’t get close enough, want you to be a part of me.”

“Our souls knit together, tighter than our bodies,” Zach mutters before kissing me, both of us trying to breathe. Outside the cavern, the surf rises and spray splashes over us.

“Sorry, luv,” Zach says after our heartbeats have calmed. “We have to swim back before the tide rises.”

My body is lazy, limp, ready for long slumber. “Carry me. I can’t move.”

“But first, the pool.” He rolls me over the edge into the pool and the shock of water zings through my bloodstream, perking my nipples and arousing me once again. Zach runs his hands up and down my waist and prods between my legs.

“I can’t …” My tongue isn’t even working.

“Can’t what, baby?” He wiggles his eyebrows and nips at the junction between my neck and shoulder.

“Can’t come again, no, no, all worn out.”

“But, you promised me dessert.” Zach licks his lips and sits on an underwater ledge, pulling me onto his lap. Kissing me and exploring my body, he caresses every nerve ending, igniting tendrils of sensation. “By the time I’m through with you, you won’t even remember your name, Mrs. Spencer.”

In a haze of ecstasy, he makes me writhe and moan and then, as the tide rushes over the sandbar, he wraps a hand around my chin and drags me to shore, me with my eyes closed, enjoying the sweet, lapping waves, floating on a bed of bliss, finding my forever.

The persistent thump, thump of a helicopter drags the sleep from my eyes. The chopper circles and hovers closer, its noise drowning out the comforting surf. Zach and I are lying on the soft grass beside the tin shed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Zach!” I shake him. “Someone’s coming. We have to get our clothes on.”

“Huh?” He yawns and rubs his eyes. His hair is standing every which way and he has sand in his three-day old beard.

“Quick, quick.” I throw his shirt at him and check that the camisole is wrapped tightly around his stump. “Think your father called them?”

He gazes toward the rising sun, his hand over his brow. “Looks like the police.”

Relief descends over me at not having to fish for our dinner and boil water to drink. I can use a hot shower and Zach needs his leg checked.

In record time, I wriggle into my jeans and zip up the windbreaker. My bra has fallen victim to Mr. Billy, the goat, and my socks are too encrusted with spines and twigs to wear. I slip on my running shoes and wave both arms at the rescuers while Zach pulls on his shirt and pants.

A bullhorn sounds from the copter. “Come to the beach with your hands up.”

“Hands up?” I finger-comb my hair, a sour feeling upsetting my stomach. “What did we do?”

“Don’t worry, common police protocol,” Zach says. “They don’t know what they’re dealing with.”

He straps his knife and tucks it under his shirt. “I’ll go first.”

“No, we go together.” I grab his arm. “Let me stand in front of you in case they shoot.”

“Aww … sweetie.” He kisses me. “You’re so dramatic, but I love you.”

I linger on the kiss longer, not wanting to relinquish him to civilization. “Last night was real, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m holding you to every word you uttered.” His grin reaches almost to his ears. “You have no idea what you promised in the throes of ecstasy.”

The diamond looks bigger in the daylight, its colorful glints almost blinding me. “Nor do you, husband.”

“Wife.”

He means it? What will my mother say? My father? He means it. Squeee!

We hike toward the sand, but the bullhorn directs us. “The beach with the bay. East side. Keep your hands up.”

“Don’t they know you can’t walk with your hands up?” I’m exasperated that the Australian police would be so uncompassionate. Besides, we’re the victims, aren’t we?

“I’ll do the best I can,” Zach says. “It’s not like I have a hand-held missile or anything.”

“Hmmm…” My gaze zips to his crotch. “Aim yours at me anytime.”

His laughter is drowned out by the helicopter buzzing above us. Slowly, we traverse the ridge and zigzag down the rocky trail toward the bay. Zach props himself between me and the crutch. Pebbles slide and he loses his footing several times, but I wrap his arm tighter around me, and thanks to my lower center of gravity we make it to the beach.

A police boat is anchored in the bay. Two policemen drop into a motorized raft and speed toward the shore.

“Lie on your stomachs,” the bullhorn blares. “Hands behind your head and wait.”

“Geez, they’re treating us like criminals.” I kick the sand and trudge toward the center of the beach.

“It’ll be okay, luv,” Zach says. “Let’s cooperate with them and get this over with.”

He bends lower and kisses me, his lips gently sucking mine, and then rubs my cheeks with his fuzzy whiskers. “Remember our anniversary.”

“I will.” I kiss him one last time, and we kneel on the sand and raise our hands. The rubber raft skids onto the beach, and the two officers charge with their clubs raised.

“Zach Spencer, on your face.” The first officer to reach us pushes Zach down and cuffs him roughly.

“Why are you arresting him?” I protest. “He hasn’t done anything.”

The second officer lowers his sunglasses and peers at me. “Come with me, miss. We need your statement.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” My throat dries and panic grips my heart. “Is it my brothers? Have you found them?”

“They’ve been located.” The policeman grips me firmly and guides me to the raft. “Let’s get you safely on the boat.”

“Are they all right?”

The policeman does not respond. He guides me into the raft, and I look back at Zach. He’s on his stomach, but he looks at me with such piercing love that my heart feels like it’s being ripped to pieces.

“Zach, it’ll be okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I have to let the police know, so they can clear up the misunderstanding.

The officer starts the motor, and in a few minutes we’re at the side of the boat. He helps me up the ladder while a policewoman pulls me on board.

“Vera!” Cliff rushes to my side. “Look at you. What did he do to you?”

Oh no. Not him.
He acts like I’m hurt, and brushes sand from my hair, his face a mask of concern.

“Why are they arresting Zach?” I push away from Cliff and peer toward the beach. The raft approaches the shoreline, and the officer who cuffed Zach yanks him roughly to one foot. The second officer jumps from the raft and together, they prop Zach between them and drag him toward the raft. I wince when Zach stumbles and one officer kicks his back. Zach’s stump scrapes the sand. He’s unable to break his fall because he’s handcuffed.

Cliff tightens his fingers on my arms. “He deserves it. Set you up, darling. Then comes out here to play hero. You know what happened to Ben and Dex?”

“What happened?” I keep one eye on Zach, but clutch my chest where I feel a constriction around my heart.

“Beaten and left for dead on one of these islands. Fortunately a group of kayakers found them.”

“Are they hurt badly?”

“Concussion, lacerations, broken ribs, and severe dehydration. They’ll live, thank God.” Cliff grits his teeth. “Zach’s behind all of it.”

I shove away from him. “No, it was Zach’s father. Not Zach.”

The rubber raft speeds toward us, and the policewoman leads me to the back of the boat. “We need your statement. Would you like some water?”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I take a bottle from her. “Zach didn’t do anything wrong.”

The two officers shove Zach onboard. He has to use his knee to climb, his face contorted with pain. I head his way, but the female officer blocks me. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. I was thrown in the water by Vic and Tom. I was drowning when Zach saved me.”

“Did Vic and Tom say who they work for?”

The boat rolls and yaws, and my stomach lurches. “No, but I think it’s Zach’s father.”

“It was Zach.” Cliff solicitously puts his arms around me.

“No, he wouldn’t hurt me.” I shrug Cliff off and collapse on the padded bench between the rail and the policewoman. She’s busy typing on her tablet and doesn’t move when Cliff asks her to. Thank God for small favors.

The motor speeds up. Nausea kicks in and I lean over the side, trying to get the wind on my face. What’s going to happen to Zach? And where the hell is his father?

The island is a tiny dot, receding fast into the horizon. By the time we reach a harbor, the sun is already high overhead. The policewoman escorts me into a squad car, and Cliff slides in after me.

“We’ll take you to medical, miss,” the driver says. “Get you checked out.”

“What about Zach? I’m a nurse. Can I stay with him while you check his injuries?”

“They’ll take him to medical after booking him.” The policewoman is firm.

“Everything will be okay,” Cliff says. “After you’re clear to go, we have a flight back to San Francisco. They extradited your father already.”

“He should have turned himself in earlier. Then none of this would have happened.”

“He’s your father. Don’t you care?” Cliff jiggles my shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” I cross my arms and stare out the window. “He killed Zach’s mom and took on that phony name. He should face justice for what he did.”

“You’re a traitor to your family.” He speaks as if through gritted teeth. “What kind of Filipina are you?”

“I’m Mrs. Spencer now.” I twirl the ring on my finger. “Zach is all the family I need.”

“No way! Did he compromise you? Rape you?” Cliff shouts.

“Shhh… Of course he didn’t.” I’m afraid he’s going to get Zach in more trouble.

The two officers turn around and stare at us through the grill.

“Is there a problem?” the policewoman asks.

“Yes, leave this man at the roadside.” I glare at Cliff. “He’s harassing me.”

“We’ll be at the station soon,” the driver says, clearly not about to stop and drop off Cliff.

My lower lip trembles, but I refuse to give Cliff the satisfaction of seeing me worried. There has to be an explanation. Zach’s father had better be there to set the record straight.

***

It’s afternoon, and other than my interview with the police in which I tried to convince them of Zach’s innocence, I haven’t been able to talk to anyone. They leave me in the waiting room in my sandy jeans and the oversized windbreaker. I ask to make a phone call, but international numbers are not allowed. Finally, I call the US Embassy, but their only advice is to get on an airplane and go home. They ask me if I’ve lost my passport or wallet but the local police had retrieved my purse from Dex’s jeep, so they were satisfied I needed no assistance.

The policewoman stops in front of me. “Here’s your purse. Your mobile’s still charging in my office, so I’ll get that for you before I leave. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Thanks. I’d like to see Zach. Is he okay?”

“He’s been cleared by medical.” She looks me up and down, then gestures. “Come with me. I can lend you some clothes. I have my gym bag here.”

I take my purse and follow her down a busy corridor. She pushes through a swinging door, and we enter a locker room. “Here you go: sweatpants, a tank top and a warm-up jacket.”

“I appreciate it.” I eye the stalls. “Think I can take a shower?”

“Sure, help yourself. Here’s some soap and shampoo. We’ll get you prettified before I take you to the men’s prison.”

“I’ll get to see Zach? Oh, thank you!”

She winks. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. I figure it’s the least I can do. But I can’t talk about the case officially, you understand.”

“The whole situation is too strange. I can’t believe his father would let him hang.”

She makes a clucking sound. “You’d be surprised. I’ve seen everything. Go ahead and shower. I have to stay here to escort you, so don’t mind me.”

I peel off my salt-crusted clothes and throw them in the trash. “This is embarrassing. I don’t even have underwear.”

She smiles. “Zach doesn’t have to know unless you tell him.”

The shower is refreshing. It takes three shampoo rinses before my hair stops feeling grimy and sandy. I dry myself and don the sweatpants and tank top and cover my braless torso with the warm-up jacket. Thankfully the policewoman’s sweatpants are capris and short enough for me. When I take out my wallet to give her some cash, she waves me off.

She drives me to the men’s prison and escorts me through the barbed wired gate. Through the fence, wild-eyed men hoot and whistle at me. Their biceps bulge with fierce tattoos, and they spit and kick the dirt like wild beasts. There’s no way they should keep Zach here, especially when he can’t fight. I keep close to the policewoman and follow her.

The heavy metal doors close behind us with an air of finality, and a curl of dread rises in my lower abdomen. The only time I’ve been to a jail cell was on a fifth-grade field trip to the local police station. Back then we thought it was funny when the officer brought us in and slammed the heavy gate, pretending to throw away the key.

The policewoman takes my purse and jacket before letting me into the visiting room. Zach is sitting on a bench, wearing an orange jumpsuit. The lower pant on his left leg is clipped. A reinforced Plexiglas window separates us, but there’s a circular pin-point perforated metal grate where our voices can travel through without using the phone receivers seen on TV.

“Fifteen minutes,” she says and retires, leaving Zach and me alone.

We stare at each other for several seconds, speechless. I swallow a series of lumps. How had our rescue come to this? My palm flattens against the glass and Zach raises his hand to mirror mine.

“Hey, how are you doing?” His smile is pained.

“Worried about you. When are they going to let you out?”

“I spoke to my lawyer. He says things should be cleared up soon. Vic and Tom lied about me. Remember the prepaid cell phone you left in my bag?”

“Yes.” I nod, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“The police claim it was used to contact Vic and Tom. They subpoenaed the messages and are combing through it.”

“It’s obvious your father got ahold of the phone.” I tap the glass. “They’ll figure it out, won’t they?”

“I guess. There’s also money transfers from an account I’d forgotten about.”

“Again, your father could have done that. Where is he? Has he come forward?”

“My lawyer says he went to America.”

“What? When?” I stand and knock my forehead against the plastic.

“Yesterday, as soon as your father was detained. He might still be in the air, which is why I haven’t gotten a call back.” He hangs his head and shrugs. “I’m charged with conspiracy to extort Mr. Ping’s winery, kidnapping, and aggravated assault.”

“This is horrible. I don’t see how they can pin this on you.”

“My lawyer’s going to go after them for wrongful arrest.”

“How can I help you? Let me speak with your lawyer.”

He presses his nose against the glass. “Tomorrow. You’re tired. Aunt Addy’s coming to take you to home with her.”

“But, she hates me. I heard her talking about me and my father.”

“That was before I told her I married you in secret.”

“You told her?” My jaw drops, and I suck in a sliver of saliva. “How did she respond?”

“Shocked, but thrilled. She’s a real romantic. You’ll be safe with her.” His smile beams at the thought of a woman he clearly thinks of as his mother.

My stomach gurgles and I’m not so sure I should be imposing on her hospitality. I must have a confused look on my face, because Zach studies me, his lips pressed in a thin line.