She looked at her watch, all business all of a sudden. “Oh, Lord, I’m so sorry. It’s gotten so late. We need to head back-I have to get to work. I ruined your diving day. I’m so, so sorry.” She was sincere and contrite. And she didn’t seem to be really angry with him.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not,” he told her softly. And he did touch her. He touched her cheek, and he met her eyes, and he realized that whatever it was that made a man attracted to one woman and not another, he had just found it in Katie. He wasn’t just attracted. He was entwined.
He stood. “Grab a few of the sandwiches. We’ll eat while we motor back in.”
She nodded; he pulled in the flag and the anchor while she went about pulling food from the ice chest. He chewed on a ham-and-cheese-on-wheat while she stood next to him, facing the wind and the spray while they motored back in to the dock. He slowed his speed and followed the markers until they reached the dock. Katie jumped out with the ties.
“Hey, I’ll start rinsing equipment,” she called to him.
“No, go on. It’s nothing-I’ve got it. Get cleaned up for work,” he told her.
She stood on the dock, looking down at him. Now, she was just in her bikini. It wasn’t a super-string thing or anything like that, just hip-hugging bottoms and a bra top.
Lord, but she was beautifully built. Athletic, curved, lean…
“It’s all right, Katie. You’re working. I’m not. Get going.”
She still stared.
“I’ll see you at O’Hara’s later,” he told her.
She smiled.
It seemed a fire started in his chest. Or his loins. He couldn’t really tell. It was just burning everywhere.
He handed up the rest of her belongings, watched her slide into her oversize shirt and shorts and then turn and start home.
He plowed into the ice chest for a beer, and sat on the chest then for a moment, puzzled, staring after her.
It was still fairly early, afternoon. Daylight. Sun was streaming down on the island.
But he was worried. About Katie.
He forgot the equipment and the boat. Or, they were there, in the back of his mind. But they would wait.
He slid into his deck shoes and leapt to the dock and went racing after her.
The streets were crowded today. Sunday. People were shopping, taking dive-and-snorkel and party boats, Jet Skis and more. They were eating and drinking, and buzzing slowly around on scooters.
He raced from the wharf to Front Street. He could see Katie turning off, right before Two Friends bar and restaurant. He followed.
He reached her in time to see her enter her house and close the door behind her.
He stood still on the street, wondering about her earlier words.
He could see no one who seemed to be paying the least attention to him.
He looked up to the windows in the old Victorian and Deco houses around him. No one seemed to be peeking down from behind shutters or curtains.
And yet, he could swear that he was being watched. He was being watched because…
Katie had been followed.
7
Stella Martin woke in the late afternoon. It was late, and she was startled to have slept so long. She bolted up, looked around and smiled.
The night hadn’t started out well. She’d not been able to resist the temptation to pick a jerk’s pocket up on Duval. She’d seen the commotion that had followed. She’d felt bad for the kid who was accused-so she’d followed him.
She’d seen his brother leave him, taking off with a pathetically sluttish rich girl who’d sauntered out of the Irish bar. So much for heading back to their rooms as they’d been told!
She’d managed to snare the kid-who knew that she’d ripped off the other guy. It was a great joke between them. She laughed with him, got to know him and arranged to meet him back at his hotel room after her shift. The kid had been to the ATM machine and was rich. If not rich, Mommy and Daddy were very well off. The two brothers weren’t even sharing a room.
They’d had a number of drinks. Now he was still sleeping. Snoring. Usually, she hated men who snored. But this kid probably was barely twenty-one. He had long dark hair that fell over his forehead and eyes now as he slept, and he was kind of cute. He’d actually been fun, too. No finesse, but he could fuck like the proverbial bunny. She hadn’t even been tempted to charge him more for going at it again and again. It had been fantastic. Most of the time she was exhausted in an hour, trying to coax a middle-aged drunk asshole into getting it up.
Ah, the kid was cute. Thanks to him and his room, she’d eluded all the cops.