The Reef Roamer (The Roamer Series Book 1) (14 page)

She chuckled, scooped up her bathing suit, and silently let herself out the open door.

Out in the reception area, Jayme looked for and found a writing pad. She picked up a bright orange pen from the desk, knowing it had to be Naomi’s, and wrote Mark a note:

Dr. Steele, Thank you for taking care of me. I went back to the resort by taxi. Please send me your bill there.

Ms. Haller

She read the over, then crossed out “Ms. Haller” and wrote “Jayme.” Sipping back into the ward, she left the note on her rumpled bed and left.

***

The hot sun had made its way across the blue afternoon sky in lazy slowness, which was fine with Jayme. She sipped on her iced tea in the shade of a palm tree outside her room. She had arranged two chairs facing each other so she could prop her feet up and had her wounded arm cradled on a pillow. In front of her on the wicker table was her laptop, state of the art equipment with a more than state of the art program.

Alan had taken after his father in more ways than looks. He was exceptional with computer programming and now was an E-5 Sergeant with an MOS of Information Technology Specialist in the Army. He had spent many after work hours devising the software she was now using. It included multiple yet easy steps, where she could download her videos, edit them, and then burn them to a disc, all from her laptop and from anywhere she was.

Jayme had downloaded the memory cards she used, saving the files to a thumb drive that would be a permanent record in her personal files. She had just finished viewing and editing the footage of the Thomas’ dive, adding comments via an attached microphone, and it was ready to burn when a now-familiar voice encroached on her thoughts.

“Well, now, that’s an interesting set-up,” Dr. Steele commented as he sat down in a third chair angled across from her.

“Jeez! You scared me half to death!” Jayme was clearly startled by his approach but not so shaken that she didn’t have enough presence of mind to save her recent work and close the computer.

Mark stared at her a long moment, then switched topics. “Why did you leave this morning? You gave me quite a panic when I saw you gone. I didn’t find your note until I looked under the bed to see if you’d found your clothes.” To her quizzical look, he added, “The note was on the floor.”

“I left it on the bed in plain sight. A breeze must have blown it off. I didn’t mean to cause you concern, not any more. Heaven knows I’ve already done enough of that.” It was easy to pick up the banter they so recently shared, and it felt good, maybe too good.

“I should hope not. You haven’t paid me back yet for keeping me awake all night. As I recall, I had mentioned dinner…”

“Ah, yes, that’s when the world’s newest citizen decided to make an appearance. Boy or girl?”

“Actually, one of each. We knew there would be twins, and Lana was two weeks over what I anticipated, though two weeks early for a normal delivery. Both babies are fine. The extra time helped their birth weight a great deal. Mother and children went home,” he glanced at his watch, “a half hour ago.”

“So soon? Isn’t that unusually fast?”

“Not for island people. The only reason she came to me for the delivery was because the twins might need extra care that would be available only at the clinic. Otherwise, she would have delivered at home with a local midwife.” Mark yawned, the lack of sleep catching up to him at last. “However, I didn’t expect you to leave so soon.”

“I wasn’t ill, Dr. Steele, only a minor injury, and a major sedative.” She tried to add ice to her voice and found she couldn’t. He was too damned handsome, and his profound effect on her left her bewildered and defenseless.

“Ouch! Okay, I deserved that. You’re right, you’re not ill. However as your current physician,” he smiled brightly, “I would like to examine my patient. Your arm will do for now.” His voice had softened and his eyes seemed to want to say more.

Jayme felt a warm feeling overtake her lower body. Her heart quickened. Was he flirting with her?
God, I hope so,
her mind added, and then she admonished herself, knowing she couldn’t involve herself with anyone. Still, it was a nice feeling. She held out her arm for him, and when he laughed, she realized she had picked up the wrong arm. Recovering, she quipped, “Just checking to see if you’re alert enough to conduct this physical…I mean examination.” Mark opened a black bag Jayme hadn’t noticed he brought and produced a pair of scissors. He cut the gauze and tape from her arm, unwrapping it gently. As he exposed the pink stitches, he checked for swelling and redness, his fingers probing gently along her tender skin, lingering much, much longer than necessary.

Jayme couldn’t take her eyes off the head of dark, silky hair bent so intently over her arm. As he traced his fingers up and down her skin, she began to feel lightheaded with a growing desire. She swallowed hard. “Am I going to live?” Her voice, deepened with the desire, startled her.

Mark looked up into pools of liquid green flames, flustered. “Most definitely.” He did not want to let go of her. He sighed deeply and set her arm down, reaching again for his black bag. He wrapped and taped her wound after applying an antibiotic salve, trying to keep his hands busy. His breathing was much too rapid.

Mark let his gaze come up to Jayme’s face, taking in every detail he could. When he reached her mouth, he longed to claim it, to taste every lovely inch. Breathing hard, he continued up, their eyes locked. The desire revealed in gray eyes and green was deep and passionate. Jayme broke away first. Her breathing was as erratic as his.

“Dinner, you said. Ah, yes, well, as a matter of fact I had a late breakfast and I’ve been working all afternoon. I’m starved!”

“Working?”

Working!

Jayme hadn’t realized she had admitted that. Now she was truly flustered. She longed to tell him the truth but knew she couldn’t so instead settled for in between. “I’m sort of a photographer. I take pictures when I’m on vacation and occasionally sell one or two.” She hoped he didn’t see her crossed fingers. “Where would you recommend for dinner?”

“Someplace quiet, remote, with atmosphere and good food. Let me think for a moment.” He grinned devilishly. “I’ll be right back.”

Mark left so quickly, Jayme didn’t have the opportunity to question. All she realized was that as soon as he left, the space felt empty and she wanted him back.

Moments later, he returned with two over-sized glasses of red swirling liquid. “Bahama Mamas,” he announced, placing a glass down in front of Jayme.

“Thanks, but it’s only,” she glanced at the watch on her thin wrist, “gosh! It’s after 6pm! I don’t drink before dinner,” she said, pushing the glass an inch away.

“I wouldn’t want you to drink right now, anyway. These are virgin…no liquor. You need to take these.” He handed her a vial of pills.

“What is it?” she asked warily.

“Antibiotics. Specifically erythromycin. We don’t want your wound getting infected, do we?”

She shook her head, sending her soft auburn waves swaying. Mark looked down to stifle the groan. Jayme shook two pills out into her hand, popped them into her mouth, and took a swallow of the sweet red liquid, and grinned at the handsome doctor. Why did he make her feel the way he did? She was too old to have a school girl crush! Good grief, he couldn’t be more than thirty-five and she was forty-three. That felt like a big gap.

“So, Dr. Steele, have you—”

“Mark.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Mark, Jayme. Yesterday you insisted I call you Jayme, so I want you to call me Mark. Fair’s fair, okay?”

“Sure. So, Mark, have you decided where to have dinner?” No sooner had she spoken than one of the waiters from the resort restaurant showed up carrying a large tray loaded with food. Much to Jayme’s surprise and delight, the waiter proceeded to clear the outside table and set it with linens and china. Mark had taken Jayme’s equipment and set it in her room on a chair without so much as a comment.

With candles lit and wine poured, Mark gazed across the table at Jayme and raised his crystal goblet in a toast. “To candlelit dinners on sandy beaches at sunset.” His eyes clouded with an unmistakable longing.

“How could I refuse?” Jayme responded, raising her own wine glass.

“I hope you can’t.” Mark’s comment was definitely cloaked in double meaning. Silence fell between them.

Jayme cleared her throat. “So what have you ordered? I’ve tried about everything on the menu here.”

Mark smiled. “Something that’s
not
on the menu. You have Holm Chicken, and I have Anna’s Cucumber Fish. I have special influence with the cook.” He winked at her.

Jayme lifted the silver dome off her plate and set it aside, the delicate aromas wafting up to meet her. She closed her eyes briefly in pleasure at the scent, an action that turned Mark’s insides to mush and other parts of him into something much harder. Holm Chicken was strips of chicken breast roasted in pineapple and orange juice, thickened into a sauce, served with fried bananas and fried pineapple rings on a bed of cooked grains. Jayme speared a bite-sized piece of pineapple and chicken together and put them in her mouth with anticipation.

“This is ambrosia! Why isn’t it on the menu?” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with delight.

“Don’t know. Ask Anna. Here, try some of my fish.” Without asking, Mark scooped up a fork full of fresh-caught white fish, hot minced cucumbers, orange slices, and dill and held it out, an offering to Jayme. She met his eyes, smiled, and opened her mouth to let him feed her. As he performed this simple yet intimate gesture, an electric shock ran up his spine. Mark could feel his arousal for her grow, and it surfaced in his eyes.

“That is incredible!” Jayme murmured, running her tongue over her sauce-wet lips. “I think I
will
ask Anna why she hides these delectable dishes from the guests! Everyone would surely order these if they were available,” she said between mouthfuls. She had seen the unmistakable longing in Mark’s gray eyes, surely matching her own.

“Maybe that’s why it isn’t on the menu,” Mark said thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be special anymore. Something that’s too easily attained is often not as appreciated as it should be.”

Jayme let the innuendo slide. If she responded to all his veiled comments and double-entendre, she’d never get to finish eating. As it was, her mind was kept busy trying to figure out if he was just being pleasant, or was he really flirting with her? She found she much hoped he was flirting, but she had so little experience with this. Was she ready for a little diversion? For diversion was all it could be.

Watching him through lowered lashes, Jayme had time to notice again the fine, chiseled lines of Mark’s tanned face. He had a strong jaw and high cheekbones, with a straight, short nose that flared slightly when he talked. Dark brown hair that was almost black waved long over his ears and down the back of his neck. Laugh lines crinkled around the corners of his smoky gray eyes, eyes she already knew deepened in color when he was intense. His mouth was wide and easily curved into a smile. And his lips looked velvety soft. Jayme wondered how they would feel against hers. She again felt warm desire surge through her abdomen…and lower.

“Jayme?”

“Huh?” Jayme didn’t realize he’d been talking to her.

“Where have you been?” he teased. “You looked like you were a thousand miles away. Or is your arm hurting? Are you in pain?”

Jayme grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “I was right here, believe me. And my arm is only a little uncomfortable, thanks to the great medical care I’ve been getting.”

Mark stared at her for a long moment, wondering what she had been thinking about. He had a feeling it had been him, and that pleased him tremendously. “Well, now that I know you’re still here, I’ll say again, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” The wine was making her amiable, and he was such good company, she felt she’d tell him anything.

“About you, your family, your work, where you’re from, things like that. You know, your life story.” He grinned mischievously.

“I’m not a very interesting person, Mark. I’d rather talk about you and your work here in the islands.” Jayme hoped to change the subject away from her, though Mark was not so easily derailed.

“Me later, you first. Where are you from? You have any brothers or sisters?” He urged her on, leaning forward on his elbows, the candlelight dancing in his eyes.

Jayme leaned back, getting comfortable. She picked up her wine glass, swirled it, took a sip. “Okay, Doc, you want my life story? It’s yours.”

For the next half hour, Jayme told Mark about growing up in Michigan with her one sister, the daughters of a big city cop. She filled him in on how she met Donald in high school, married him a year later, and had her only child, a son, a year after that. How Donald had gotten them into scuba diving to bring them closer together and how instead it had taken him from her. She told him of her love of photography and how she blended it with her love of diving. Leaving out her real work was difficult. She found she didn’t want to deceive Mark in any way, but some things had to remain a secret. It felt strangely therapeutic to purge herself, and Jayme smiled, letting out a sigh. “Anything else, doctor?”