Where It Began. Kathleen Pickering
and urges until she understood why they existed. There certainly were enough canvases in the guest cabin to accomplish the goal.
Satisfied with this decision, she felt confident she could remain in Del Rio’s company as a passenger on her father’s yacht.
Perfect.
Center ship, the engine rumbled to life. She closed her eyes, saying a prayer for strength. The thought of strength drew her mind to Poppa. The doctor had given her the okay to sail with the promise that Elias was strong. She wouldn’t have set foot on the Honora if she hadn’t gotten that guarantee.
After years of battling with diabetes, Elias was living on borrowed time. Diabetes was no simple disease. Her father had already progressed into advanced stages. His ankle joints had dissolved, although his feisty nature always had one believing he’d jump from his wheelchair at any moment. She suspected he had been seeking a way to keep her from witnessing his deterioration, especially his weakened heart. She would not have taken this trip if she did not believe she could recoup her memory and be fully present to help Poppa. If he worsened while she was away, there would be hell to pay.
She pushed the thought from her mind. Besides, a more immediate danger loomed. Captain Daniel Murphy Del Rio. How she’d manage keeping her distance from him on fifty feet of teak and mahogany presented a challenge. She’d pretend he didn’t exist. After all, she suspected he was only doing her father’s bidding. Arm’s length was easy with hired help. That should roast Del Rio’s pride until she could finish this voyage.
She’d push him to make Little Harbour in three days. The sooner this fiasco was finished, the better.
Settling herself at the small working table, she pulled out a sketch pad and some charcoals. Her sketches would keep her in the cabin until dawn. Daniel Del Rio could sail alone at that helm for the rest of the trip.
NOT EVEN A HALF HOUR outside the inlet, Maria bolted onto the deck, eyes wide. She clutched her stomach and lunged across the cushions wedging herself between the lifelines, her slim figure wrenching with dry heaves.
Daniel winced at her discomfort. “Didn’t eat any dinner, eh?”
She shook her head. “I’m sooo sick.”
Mal de mer brought the best men to their knees. He reached for his bottle of Gatorade and tossed it onto the seat beside her.
“Don’t worry, Princess. In a day or two, it’ll pass. In the meantime, sip that. It’ll keep you hydrated.”
She settled herself onto the cushion, sucking air deep into her lungs, too weak to object to his nickname for her.
“I could die.”
Daniel chuckled. “And to think, a short while ago, you wanted that to happen to me.”
She groaned. “Can you stop? Just for a moment?”
“The Honora?”
“No. The taunts. Pretend I’m not here. Okay?”
Like he could pretend not to breathe.
“Sure thing. I’ll imagine it’s just me and the sea on this amazing starlit night. No vomiting hottie leaning over the side, dirtying my teak while offering me a divine view of her stern.”
She shot him a venomous glare, but it lasted only a second. Like a rag doll she crumpled onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm.
“Oh, God. Can you stop this boat from rocking?”
His heart went out to her. This was not the sea-loving woman who would stay up with him during night crossings, turning her face into the wind while humming haunting songs or regaling him with childhood stories. His chest tightened. Would she ever change from the fragile, frightened woman she’d become? Would it help if he told her everything she was seeking so they could turn the ship around and not have to deal with her discomfort?
No. He’d promised Elias he’d hold his tongue and let her find her way. But this was taking things too far.
He leaned toward her. “Would it help to know you never got seasick before?”
It took only a moment to register what he meant by before. She glanced at him warily from under her arm.
“How do you know?” Accusation laced her words.
Oh, man. Maybe Elias was right. She wasn’t ready to hear anything he knew.
He shrugged a careless shoulder. “There’s a lot I know. Hang around. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
“I may have lost my memory, but there’s nothing I want to learn from you.” Her voice sounded bitter.
He shrugged again. “Probably right.”
She leaned on one elbow to sip the Gatorade. “I’m going to make this trip. Even if it kills me.”
Even if it kills me. Her words struck like a rogue wave. His hands gripped the wheel at the memory of her unconscious body floating facedown among the debris of a splintered speedboat while her twin and mother floated lifelessly nearby. A shudder ran through him. He could puke right beside her at the thought.
Reaching over her to trim the sails, he met her dark, challenging eyes and said, “I have an idea, Maria. Why don’t you just stop talking?”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE LATE-MORNING SUN splashed clear to the sea bottom as Daniel negotiated the Honora through the shallow water of the Bahamas’ West End and into the harbor without a hitch.
Maria had awakened and still lingered against the cockpit pillow, sipping coffee, her tanned feet peeking out from beneath the sheet. He’d suggested she sleep topside to keep the queasiness away. She’d slept within an arm’s length of him through the night, like a talisman.
It hadn’t taken long for Daniel to finally relax into sailing mode, aligning his body to the movement of the ocean, riding with the wind while his self-doubt disappeared behind the wake of the Honora. The sailboat skimming along alone in the night while Maria slept erased the last vestiges of fear he harbored about his ability to sail. While the seven-hour journey left him tired, he felt stronger than he had in a long time.
Earlier he had put the Honora on autopilot, hoisted the yellow quarantine flag for customs entry, brewed coffee in a thermos and buttered rolls to have waiting when Maria awoke. She wouldn’t be seasick for long, but until her sea legs kicked in, he wanted to pamper her. Hell, nothing had changed for him. He wasn’t the one who forgot they were lovers.
She yawned. “I’m feeling drowsy from the seasickness pill.”
“It’ll pass.”
She slid her sunglasses on. “So, this is West End.”
She spoke the words with open curiosity. West End boasted little more than an updated marina. The yellow, pink and turquoise buildings with aluminum roofs and white porches were recent additions.
Daniel pointed to the sun-drenched buildings along the beach. “That’s the resort. If the Honora isn’t comfortable for you, I can book you a room.”
She shielded her eyes from the sun. “Looks sweet, but I’m fine on board.”
Score one for the home team. “Well, then, other than a few packaged goods and supply stores, there’s not much here.”
Except for the large number of boats in the marina, West End seemed basically vacant. The flat sandy terrain, easy view of the water and the intense light of the Bahamian sun made this remote spit of land an oasis for weary sailors.
A smile creased those pouty lips. “I could paint this.”
While Daniel docked the boat, secured the lines and jumped off to tip the dock attendant for his help, Maria had watched from the cockpit, looking distracted. Daniel wondered if the docking routine had seemed familiar to her.