Seek and Destroy (16 page)

    She let out a shaky breath and he braced himself. Please God don't let her cry. He'd be able to shut her down as long as she didn't cry. "I get that you are trying the whole 'chivalry' approach. Let's just get that out of the way."

    She had it wrong. So wrong. He shook his head, placed his hands on his hips, and then looked to the sky. "No, you don't-"

    "I want you, David Snyder. I want to have sex with you. I want to wake up in the morning barely able to walk. I want to go back to Seattle tomorrow with the memory of you loving me, if only for a night. Now if you don't plan to follow through with your promise, then go away."

    He spun around. She blinked after her admission, seemingly surprised at her own words. After that she looked away and started walking along the surf again.

    Jesus Christ, he was a glutton for punishment. Now would have been the perfect opportunity to simply walk away. Instead, he fell in along side her, his hands still safely tucked into his pockets. "It isn't that I don't want to."

    "We are through having this conversation."

    "Please, Charis. I never intended for it to get this far. I was only trying to scare you."

    "By sleeping with me? Hmm. Interesting way to scare a girl. Just how many girls do you scare this way?" She shook her head and raised her eyes to the sky. "No. Never mind. I don't want to know the answer to that."

    He looked at the expression on her face and almost dropped to his knees. Her eyes sparkled with tears, even in the light of the cloud-hazed moon.

    He felt like an ass and reached for her. "Charis,"

    "No," she ordered and stepped sideways out of his range. She blinked back the tears threatening to fall. "God, I feel like such an idiot. You never had any intention of sleeping with me, did you?"

    
Yes, seven ways from Sunday.
If only he could. "No."

    "It was all an act?"

    "It wasn't like that."

    "Just answer the question."

    God
damn
it. "Yes."

    Nodding, she visibly swallowed. "Well, I guess that's that."

    "Please."

    "Go," she ordered, the kindness in her voice gone. She was obviously pissed and trying her damnedest to keep her emotions in check.

    "Charis,"

    "I said go." She met his gaze, her blazing eyes on fire. His chest caved under the weight. "I'd rather you not be anywhere near me right now."

    Her words fell right into the hole that used to be his heart. Most women would try to cover up their emotions with a slap across his face-like Gabrielle. But not this one, and it made him want her even more. "I don't want you hating me."

    "Really?" She spiked her brow. "I don't believe you."

    "You already hate me." As he said the words, it crushed him to know he'd ruined any chance at them being anything more than awkward acquaintances, if she'd even give him that much now.

    And then she smiled, even laughed. What the hell? He stood there, stunned, waiting for her to let him in on the big joke.

    "You don't know much about women, do you?"

    On the contrary, he considered himself to be quite experienced on the topic. He knew better than to say anything.

    "The illustrious woman's man, David Snyder. Super Spy of NASSD. Who knew a year off would turn you chicken."

    Something flashed in his midsection, tightening to accept the challenge. He felt his groin twitch, urging him along. "I'm not a chicken."

    "Then prove it."

    "Do you honestly want a one-night stand with me, Charis? Because you don't seem the type."

    "And what type am I?" she asked, thrusting out her chin.

    He didn't answer.

    "I thought so."

    "What is
that
supposed to mean?"

    She shrugged and turned from him. "Nothing."

    He swung her around by the shoulder and almost pulled her into his arms, almost crushed his lips down on hers. "What is it you really want, Angel?"

    For several seconds she simply looked up at him. When he didn't think she planned to answer, she drew in a quick breath. "I just wanted a little excitement. Something to take back with me, like you said."

    Her voice quivered as she went on. "I've never done anything out of my comfort zone. I just thought you'd be the one to take me there."

    He found himself really attracted to her honesty. He liked that about her. "And are you out of your comfort zone?"

    "You have no idea."

    His laugh came from the pit of his stomach, releasing so much tension he had to smile. It felt so damn good to feel this light again after a year of feeling the weight of his decision to leave the agency on his conscience.

    "Can we just start over?"

    God, how he wished they could. But, knowing what they knew about each other, he knew they couldn't. "I think we should call it a night."

    "But-" She paused and turned toward the water. "I want to stay and play in the water."

    "You don't want to do that," he answered and gave another look at the sky. The clouds had moved in and settled down for a nice drenching. He'd give it another ten minutes before the rain started. The waves had already picked up from where they'd shattered onto the beach half an hour ago. "The surf here has a pretty good undertow. It's dark. The swells are four to six feet right now. No one would see you if you went under."

    "But I don't live near a beach. This is the first time I've seen the ocean in years. This is paradise." She forced a smile. "Besides, I know how to swim. I'm like a bird in the water."

    "A bird? Don't you mean a fish?"

    "Right. That's what I said."

    David blew out a breath. If she wanted to play in the water, he couldn't stop her. He also refused to leave her alone to do it. "Just don't go in over your knees." He turned to leave, hoping she'd follow him out of the water.

    "Yes, Dad," she sang back, having already made her way into the water up to her knees. It crashed against her and made her giggle.

    Damn if that sound didn't have an impact on him. A slight one, he told himself, but an impact nonetheless. He turned back to see she'd gone in farther than she should have. "Okay. That's far enough," he called out to her as she waded out to her thighs. A few waves rolled in and picked her up, floating her farther and farther out.

    "You're ruining your dress."

    "I don't care," she yelled back.

    "You should come back in." She ignored him and waved. "Charis. Now."

    She stood up, the water up to her waist, soaking the little blue number. Who swims in eveningwear? And why then didn't this surprise him that she would? "What's the big deal? It isn't like-"

    Before she finished her thought, he widened his eyes as his heart painfully stopped at the sight sneaking up behind her. A wave larger than life crashed down and she disappeared beneath its frothy surface.

    "Oh shit," he muttered and ran into the water. "Charis? Charis!" He turned in all directions looking for her to emerge out of the water, but as the water pulled back out, no Charis.

    Not good.

    He kept hearing her voice, over and over.
I don't live near a beach. This is the first time I've seen the ocean in years.
If he didn't find her, it would be the last thing she ever saw.

    A shudder moved through him, sharpening his senses.

    Another wave crashed against him and nearly knocked him over. The storm must have decided to make an early appearance. He widened his stance and waded out further. "Charis!"

    Still nothing.

    Oh Christ. This was not the way he wanted their time to end. No doubt she had to be scared now. Hell, this scared him. He couldn't see shit. The moon barely glowed to give him enough light. More clouds oozed in, signaling the brewing storm, which would explain the crispness in the air and the six-foot swells.

    Six foot? Hell, the wave that pulled her out had to have been at least ten.

    Pulled her out? Shit.

    He heard a slight gasp and cough, and hurried toward the sound. "Charis," he choked on her name as he spotted her. She struggled against the surf and just as she brought her head completely out of the water, another wave crashed down and she disappeared again.

    His heart raced as he pushed against the wave. Panic rioted within him, kicking up his pace. He spotted another wave about to crash and dove into it. He surfaced and looked off in the direction he last spotted Charis.

    She wasn't there. Oh shit. This was
not
good. He no longer had traction against the bottom. His toes were now floating in the water with the rest of him. "Charis!"

    Even worse, the pounding waves had forced him a good twenty feet from shore.

    They'd be lucky if either one of them made it back to shore now.

    

    

    She couldn't breathe. Her lungs burned, ached, begged to take a breath. The all too familiar feeling of not being able to drag in any air sent her into a panic. At once she was thrust back on that field, something warm trickling down her temple as she stared up at the sky. When the force of the explosion had thrown her to the ground, she couldn't draw a breath.

    She couldn't
breathe
.

    Like now.

    Oh dear God. Surrounded by complete blackness, the ocean robbed her of any control. Thrashing, she felt completely, utterly helpless against the powerful waves. The water pushed her. It pulled her. Wanting to cry out, knowing she was going to die, she fought to break through the water.

    "David!" Charis screamed as she surfaced. The world spun in chaos as she fought the ocean. Hyperventilation tried to rob her of what little oxygen she had in her lungs. The water felt icy against her flesh as it enveloped her, capturing her in its unyielding, deadly clutches.

    "Charis!" The distant, yet distinct voice called out.

    "David!" Her heart thudded in her ears. Blinking her makeup out of her eyes, she tried to turn in the water until she spotted the lights from shore. She tried to kick, but the dress tangled around her legs and worked against her. Finally forcing herself around, the sight made her breath hitch on a painful, realistic sob.

    
No
. She had to be a good thirty feet out. Even on her best day and wearing something that didn't bind up her legs, rendering them useless, she couldn't swim thirty feet against a strong current.

    The harsh realization gripped her, painfully halting her heart. No way would she survive this.

    Another wave came up and pulled her under, sucking her back down into its liquid, relentless darkness. The water rolled her over and over. Panic, cruel and stunning as the blackness swallowing her whole, kept her from taking in a full breath even when she surfaced.

    The dress wrapped her legs together, binding her, sealing her fate. She wanted to cry, to scream for help. She wanted to take a breath. Her lungs suffered, felt like collapsing in her chest. If she didn't take a breath soon, she'd lose consciousness. Her arms flailed madly. She had to get back up to the surface, had to take a breath.

    This was not how she wanted to get David Snyder's attention. Stroking with her arms and swimming the way she assumed a mermaid would swim, she pushed herself out of the water just long enough to scream out.

    "David!" she cried, choking on saltwater and a sob. Gasping, gagging, she couldn't breathe. The black abyss robbed her of her vision. Not only did the salt in the water burn her eyes, it also popped out both her contacts. And she didn't have another pair with her, which meant she'd have to wear her glasses once she got back to shore.

    
If
she got back to shore.

    
Why are you worried about how you look in your glasses? Come on, Charis. How about worrying about how to get back to shore? You will die out here if you don't find your way.

    That thought gave her new strength. She pulled herself, pushed herself, fought against the current, against the painful burn in her arms and legs. Still, the waves made it impossible to swim any closer to shore. On top of that, she started to grow more and more exhausted. The wine in her blood worked against her. Her limbs felt heavy, useless against the tide. Her dress acted as restraints, restricting her limbs. Resting, unable to fight, she felt herself slowly, lazily descending deeper into the dark water.

    She didn't want to die. She wanted to live, damn it! As the water took her deeper, capturing her as its prey, its reward, she decided now was as good a time as any to start praying.

    
Okay, God. I'll make you a deal. If you spare my life, I promise to finally live it. I'll stop living my father's idea of my life. Just please, don't let me die!

    She felt something grab her and pull her clean out of the water. It didn't matter whom God had sent as her angel, she reached out and wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on for dear life. Gasping for air, coughing up the water that had invaded her lungs, she closed her eyes and buried her face against his back.

    Her lifeguard pulled her toward the shore until they could both touch. The waves still grew, angrily crashing down in protest as they tried to pull them both out to sea, not willing to give up its prize without a fight.

    She started to shake uncontrollably and tightened her hold, too scared to do anything more than gasp and cough. She expected relief to wash over her, but as long as water still surrounded them, she wouldn't be able to take a stable breath.

    "Hang on. We're almost there."

    Oh thank God. David's velvety baritone voice sounded through the heavy pounding in her ears. He held her head above water and swam toward shore. She kicked until her legs felt like useless, dead weight.