Safe In His Arms. Christine Scott
onto unsteady feet, she walked slowly to the door. Her hand on the doorknob, she hesitated. Once again her heart jackhammered in her chest, telling her she wasn’t in complete control.
Unexpected anger surged deep inside her. All day long she’d backed down from one challenge after another. First she’d allowed the man on the highway to take advantage of her helplessness. Then, the women in the store. Because of her own timidity, she’d passed up an opportunity to find out more about her birth mother. She’d had enough of playing the part of a wilted Southern flower.
Forcing herself to face her fear, she threw open the door and stepped inside. While she didn’t suffer another panic attack, she wasn’t comfortable, either. Her appetite had fled, right along with her composure.
It had been a long day, she told herself. Perhaps the best thing would be to unpack her groceries and suitcases, then call it an early night. Right now all she wanted was a hot shower and a soft bed. Then she’d try to forget about what promised to be one of the worst days of her life.
“She’s dead,” a deep, male voice called out.
“No, she can’t be,” Samuel growled, refusing to accept the verdict. Stubbornly he turned the ignition one more time. Once again his attempt to start the engine of his shrimp boat was met with complete silence.
In the pilot house, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel. The sun was just a promise in the sky and already this morning he’d overslept his alarm clock, nor had he had time for his morning cup of coffee, and now the engine wasn’t working.
Dammit, what else could go wrong today?
“Give it up, Samuel.” A thin, wiry man clambered out of the hold, hoisting himself onto the deck. Scratching his salt-and-pepper beard, he shook his head in disgust. “The engine’s busted. Looks like we won’t be trawling for shrimp anytime soon.”
“Thanks, Jacob. Tell me something I don’t know,” Samuel said sharply.
Jacob held up both hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m only doing my job.”
Samuel sighed. There was no use alienating one of the few men on his crew he could always count on. Jacob was loyal and hardworking. More than that, he was a friend. In a town where memories were long and acceptance was short, friendships were hard to come by. Jacob didn’t deserve any unnecessary grief dumped on his shoulders.
“Sorry,” Samuel said. “Ignore me. I’m just in a bad mood.”
Jacob eyed him curiously.
Self-consciously Samuel rubbed a hand along the stubble of his unshaved beard. Maybe he could have taken a little more time combing his hair, too. But all the primping in the world wouldn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes.
Finally Jacob said, “Looks like you could have caught a few more zees last night.”
“Nothing a little coffee can’t fix,” Samuel growled.
“I can take a hint.” Jacob chuckled as he headed for the crew’s quarters. “I’ll fix us a pot of java before we tackle the engine.”
“Thanks,” Samuel called after him. Rising to his feet, he pushed himself from the pilothouse and stood outside on the empty deck. The boat swayed beneath his weight. Above him the heavy iron outriggers creaked in the morning breeze. Their raised arms formed a black vee, pointing toward the heavens. He lifted his face and let the growing sunlight warm the chill from his heart.
He blamed all of his troubles on Jessie Pierce.
Ever since he’d bumped into her yesterday, nothing seemed to be going right. As much as he hated to admit it, he hadn’t been able to keep his mind on anything but her. Last night, when he’d tried to shut his eyes and sleep, her image had haunted him.
It was as though she were there with him in his bedroom. Her hair black and shiny. Her dark-blue eyes glittering with an inner light. Her skin so creamy and smooth he’d wanted to brush his fingers along it. Even the thought of her full red lips, curving slightly, as though she were ready to laugh at his foolish infatuation, only fanned the heat of his ill-advised fascination.
Samuel blew out a breath, releasing some of the pent-up tension building inside him. What was wrong with him? He had more important things to consider than his beguilement with a woman. Not just any woman, he reminded himself sternly, but Jessie Pierce, of all people.
He had to focus on his future. If he wanted to make the mortgage payments on his boat, he couldn’t afford to lose another day’s work. He had to get the engine fixed—now.
With a sigh he turned toward the hold, ready to tackle the engine. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught an approaching jogger on the beach.
At this time of day, there was always an occasional walker or jogger passing by. Summertime on the island brought the tourists out of the woodwork. They all seemed fascinated by the sight of shrimp boats, thinking of them as a novelty, not as a man’s work, his lifeblood.
But this time there was something about the way the jogger moved—with a delicate, sure-footed grace—that held his attention. As she neared, he saw the dark hair and slender body in a red T-shirt and white shorts and knew it was the woman of his dreams.
Earlier he’d wondered if his day could get any worse. He’d just gotten his answer.
Jessie Pierce was headed his way.
Crossing paths with the woman who’d had such a devastating effect on his life twice in as many days was more than a man’s patience could bear. He felt an unwarranted anger stirring deep inside him. She had no business being here. No business invading his private sanctuary.
This was his part of the island.
Her pace slowed as she neared the docks. Raising a hand against the brightening sun, she scanned the pier, her gaze traveling from one boat to the next. Her expression was rapt, curious.
The tension in Samuel’s gut increased, tightening like a string on a bow, as her gaze closed in on him. He told himself to turn away before it was too late. But like a man caught in the path of an out-of-control vehicle, he couldn’t move. All he could do was stand there and let it happen.
Her gaze faltered then stopped as she locked onto his face. Her lips parted; whether she was surprised or about to say something, he wasn’t sure. Either way, her expression altered, the bloom fading from her eyes. Closing her mouth with a click, she stood staring at him, frozen by the chill of his gaze.
Slowly Samuel felt a tide of heat rise up inside him. A heat that had nothing to do with the sun or the warm summer morning. Heat that was born not only of an undeniable sensual awareness for the woman standing before him, but also of humiliation and anger…the very emotions he’d tried to put behind him all these years. That, and the hot frustration of knowing there wasn’t a damned thing that he could do to stop the past from coming back to haunt him, once again.
Heavy footfalls sounded on the floor of the deck as Jacob neared. “Here’s your coffee, Samuel.”
Startled, Samuel glanced at the approaching man. In his hand, Jacob held two steaming mugs of coffee. Murmuring his thanks, Samuel accepted the offering.
By the time he turned his gaze back to the beach, Jessie was gone.
He stepped forward, moving starboard on the deck. It took him only a moment to single her out among the passersby. Spotting the red T-shirt and the white shorts, he watched as she disappeared from sight.
Jacob stood beside him, following the direction of his gaze. He whistled his approval. “Not bad for a tourist.”
“She isn’t a tourist,” Samuel said without thinking, a lingering burr of irritation getting the better of his judgment.
Jacob glanced at him curiously. “You know her?”
“We ran into each other yesterday,” he said with a shrug, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
Jacob