Sanctuary (21 page)

“She wants them to fight?”

“No, you pinhead.” Laughing, Jo lifted the sizzling hot dog from the fire, anchored the stick in the sand. “She wants them to make up.”

Nathan considered, then lifted his brows as Giff scooped Lexy up, hefted her Rhett Butler-style in his arms, and strode—with her kicking and cursing—down the beach. “If that's how it works, I'm going to have to talk to Ginny about stirring things up for me.”

“I'm a much harder sell than my sister,” Jo said dryly.

“Maybe.” Nathan plucked the hot dog off the stick and tossed it from hand to hand to cool it. “But I've already got you cooking for me.”

 

 

DESPITE the struggling woman in his arms, Giff kept his pace steady until the bonfire was a flicker in the distance. Satisfied that they were as private as they were going to get, he set her on her feet.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” She shoved him hard with both hands.

“Same person I've always been,” he said evenly. “It's time you took a good look.”

“I've looked at you before, and I don't see anybody who's got a right to haul me off when I don't want to go.” No matter how exciting it had been, she told herself. No matter how romantic. “I was having a conversation.”

“No, you weren't. You were coming on to that guy to piss me off. This time it worked.”

“I was being polite and friendly to a man Ginny introduced me to. An attractive man from Charleston. A lawyer who's spending a few days on the island camping with some friends.”

“A Charleston lawyer who was just about to drool on your shoulder.” Giff's normally mild eyes spit fire. “You've had time to sow your oats, Lexy, and I gave you plenty of space to sow them in. Now you're back, and it's time to grow up.”

“Grow up.” She planted her hands on her hips, ignoring the water that foamed up the sand inches from her feet. “I've been grown, and you're just one of the many who hasn't had the sense to see it. I do what I want when I want, and with whom I want.”

She turned on her heel and began to stalk off, her nose in the air. Giff rubbed his chin and told himself he shouldn't have lost his temper, even if Lexy had been sliding herself around some Charleston lawyer. But the damage was done.

He moved fast. By the time she heard him coming and turned, she had time only to squeal before he tackled her.

“Why, you flea-brained idiot, you'll ruin my skirt.” Furious now, she used elbows, knees, teeth, rolling with him while the surf lapped up and soaked them both. “I hate you! I hate every inch of you, Giff Verdon.”

“No, you don't, Lexy. You love me.”

“Hah. You can kiss my ass.”

“I'll be glad to, honey.” He pinned her arms, levered himself up to grin down at her. “But I believe I'll work my way down to it.” He lowered his head, and when she turned hers aside, brushed his lips over the soft skin just below her ear. “This is a fine place to start.”

Shudders coursed through her, liquid and hot. “I hate you. I said I hate you.”

“I know what you said.” He nibbled slowly down to her throat, thrilled with the way her body went lax beneath him. “Kiss me, Lexy. Come on and kiss me.”

On a sob, she turned her head, found his mouth with hers. “Hold me. Touch me. Oh, I hate you for making me want you.”

“I know the feeling.” He stroked her hair, her cheeks, while she trembled and strained beneath him. “Don't fret so. I'd never hurt you.”

Desperate, she gripped his hair, dragged him down harder. “Inside me. I need you inside me. I'm so empty.” She arched up, groaning.

He closed a hand over her breast, filled his palm with her, then giving in to his hunger, tugged the scooped neck of her blouse down so he could take her into his mouth.

The taste of her, hot, damp, pungent, pumped through his blood like whiskey. He wanted it to be slow and sweet, had waited all his life just for that. But she was moving restlessly beneath him, her hands tugging, pulling, reaching. When he closed his mouth over hers again, he couldn't think, could barely breathe. It was all taste and sound.

He was panting as he fought with her wet skirt, yanking at the thin, clinging material until his hand could skim up her thigh, until he found her, already wet. She jerked against his hand and climaxed before he could do more than moan.

“Jesus. Jesus, Lexy.”

“Now. Giff, I'll kill you if you stop. I swear I'll kill you.”

“You won't have to,” he managed. “I'll already be dead. Get these goddamn clothes off.” He tugged at her skirt with one hand, his jeans with the other. “For God's sake, Lexy, help me.”

“I'm trying.” She was laughing now, trapped in a dripping skirt, still flying on the fast, hard orgasm, her blood singing so high she could barely hear the sea. “I feel drunk. I feel wonderful. Oh, hurry.”

“Hell with it.” He tossed his jeans aside, dragged off his shirt and pulled her into the water, skirt and all.

“What are you doing? This is brand-new.”

“I'll buy you a new one. I'll buy you a dozen. Only for God's sake, let me have you.” He dragged the skirt down by the elastic waist and was inside her almost before she could kick her way clear.

She cried out in shock, in delight. She wrapped her legs around him, dug her fingers into his shoulders and watched his face. Dark eyes, never leaving hers, seeing only her.

When the wave swamped her, outside and in, she burrowed against him, and knew he would always bring her back.

“I love you.” He murmured it to her as his body raced toward the edge. “I love you, Lexy.”

He let himself go, shuddering with her until they both went limp. Then he gathered her close and let the waves rock them. It had been perfect, he thought, free and simple and right. Just as he'd always known it would be.

“Hey, out there.”

He glanced over lazily, spotted the figure on the shore waving both arms. Then he snorted, pressed his lips to Lexy's hair. “Hey, Ginny.”

“I see some clothes thrown around here look familiar. Y'all naked out there?”

“Appear to be.” He grinned as he felt Lexy chuckle against him.

“Ginny, he drowned my skirt.”

“About time, too.” She blew them elaborate kisses. “I'm walking a while. Gotta clear my head some. Lexy, Miz Kate got your daddy to drop in down at the bonfire. I'd make sure I had something covering my butt before I went back.”

Weaving more than a little, and chuckling herself, Ginny headed down the beach. It made her heart happy to see the two of them together like that. Why, poor old Giff had been pining away for her for years, and Lexy, well, she'd just been chasing her own tail waiting for Giff to catch hold of her.

She had to stop a moment, waiting for her spinning head to settle back on her shoulders. Shoulda skipped the tequila shooters, she told herself. But then, life was too short to go skipping things.

One day she was going to find the right man to catch hold of her too. And until then, she was going to have a high old time looking for him.

As if she'd conjured him, a man walked across the sand toward her. Ginny cocked a hip, aimed a grin. “Well, hey there, handsome. Whatcha doing out here by yourself?”

“Looking for you, beautiful.”

She shook her hair back. “Ain't that a coincidence?”

“Not really. I prefer to think of it as fate.” He held out a hand and, thinking it was her lucky night, she took it.

Just drunk enough to make it easy, he thought as he led her farther into the dark. And sober enough to make it ... fun.

F
OR the first time in weeks, Jo woke rested and with an appetite. She felt settled, she realized, and very nearly happy. Kate had been right, Jo decided as she gave her hair a quick finger-comb. She'd needed the evening out, the companionship, the music, the night. And a few hours in the company of a man who apparently found her attractive hadn't hurt a thing. In fact, Jo was beginning to think it wouldn't hurt a thing to spend a bit more time in Nathan's company.

She passed her darkroom on the way downstairs and for once didn't think of the envelope filled with pictures that she'd hidden deep in a file drawer. For once, she didn't think of Annabelle.

Instead she thought of wandering down to the river again and the possibility of bumping into Nathan. Accidentally. Casually. She was getting as bad as Ginny, she decided with a laugh. Plotting ways to make a man notice her. But if it worked for Ginny, maybe it would work for her. What was wrong with a little flirtation with a man who interested her? Excited her.

There now. She paused on the stairs, curious enough to take stock. It wasn't so hard to admit that he excited her—the attention paid, the breezy way he would take her hand, the deliberate way his eyes would meet and hold hers. The cool and confident way he'd kissed her. Just moved in, she recalled, sampled, approved, and backed off. As if he'd known there would be ample opportunity for more at a time and place of his choosing.

It should have infuriated her, she mused. The cocky and blatantly male arrogance of it. And yet she found it appealed to her on the most primitive of levels. She wondered how she would play the game, and if she would show any skill at it.

She smiled, continued downstairs. She had a feeling she might just surprise Nathan Delaney. And herself.

“I'd go, Sam, but I have quite a few turnovers here this morning.” Kate glanced over as Jo stepped into the kitchen. Raking a hand through her hair, she sent Jo a distracted smile. “Morning, honey. You're up early.”

“So's everyone, it seems.” Jo glanced at her father as she headed to the coffeepot. He stood by the door, all but leaning out of it. The desire to escape was obvious. “Problem?” Jo asked lightly.

“Just a little one. We've got some campers coming in on the morning ferry, and some going out on the return. I just got a call from a family who's packed up and ready to go, and there's no one to check them out.”

“Ginny's not at the station?”

“She doesn't answer there, or at home. I imagine she overslept.” Kate smiled wanly. “Somewhere. I'm sure the bonfire went on quite late.”

“It was still going strong when I left, about midnight.” Jo sipped her coffee, frowning as she tried to remember if she'd seen Ginny around before she headed back home.

“Girl got a decent night's sleep, in her own bed,” Sam added, “she wouldn't have any trouble getting herself to work.”

“Sam, you know very well this isn't like Ginny. She's as dependable as the sunrise.” With a worried frown, Kate glanced at the clock. “Maybe she isn't feeling well.”

“Hung over, you mean.”

“As some human beings are occasionally in their lives,” Kate snapped back. “And that's neither here nor there. The point is, we have people waiting to check out of camp and others coming in. I can't leave here this morning, and even if I could I don't know anything about pitching tents or Porta-Johns. You'll just have to give up a couple of hours of your valuable time and handle it.”

Sam blinked at her. It was a rare thing for her voice to take on that scathing tone with him. And it seemed he'd been hearing it quite a bit lately. Because he wanted peace more than anything else, he shrugged. “I'll head over.”

“Jo will go with you,” Kate said abruptly, which caused them both to stare. “You might need a hand.” She spoke quickly now, her mind made up. If she could force them into each other's company for a morning, maybe the two of them would hold an actual conversation. “Jo, you can walk over from the campground and check on Ginny. Maybe her phone's just out, or she's really not feeling well. I'll worry about her until we get in touch.”

Jo shifted the camera on her shoulder, watched her tentative morning plans evaporate. “Sure. Fine.”

“Let me know when you get it straightened out.” Kate shooed them to the door and out. “And don't worry about housekeeping detail. Lexy and I will manage well enough.”

Because their backs were turned, Kate smiled broadly, brushed her hands together. There, she thought. Deal with each other.

Jo climbed in the passenger seat of her father's aged Blazer, snapped her seat belt on. It smelled of him, she realized. Sand and sea and forest. The engine turned over smoothly and purred. He'd never let anything that belonged to him suffer from neglect, she mused. Except his children.

Annoyed with herself, she pulled her sunglasses out of the breast pocket of her camp shirt, slid them on. “Nice bonfire last night,” she began.