“I’m fine.” Her eyelids fluttered. Her heartbeat throbbed fast in the blue vein that stood out sharply against her pale throat. “I just … It was dark and I couldn’t see for a second.”
He frowned. Fear of the dark?
She’d never been freaked out by not being able to see before. So it only made sense something had happened between now and then to give her that kind of phobia. No doubt it had to do with her abduction. In trying to distance them from the past, he’d unwittingly thrown her right back into it. It would kill him thinking about how she might have developed that new fear, but he’d be damned if he’d ask her about it now, when they were supposed to be focused on a fresh start.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered against her forehead. Being with Stephanie was going to be filled with landmines for both of them. “I should have gotten us to the surface faster. I didn’t realize …”
It never occurred to him she might panic. He cursed himself for his insensitivity.
“It’s all right.” Her pupils were wide despite the sun still high in the afternoon sky. She wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering. “I was just surprised.”
“Come on.” He draped an arm across her shoulders and steered her toward the shore. “You can dry off inside.”
“Thanks.” She wrung out a fistful of wet hair as they trudged toward the shore, soaked clothes weighing them down. “I promise I’m not usually spooked that easily. I love the water.”
Yeah. He remembered that about her. They’d taken midnight swims in the pool at her town house those days they’d spent together on Long Island. Sat in the Jacuzzi tub for hours.
“Maybe we can hit the beach sometime when it’s not such a surprise.” He scooped up his shoes as they reached the shore, then guided her back toward the patio and into the house. “Let me get you a towel.”
He saw a blanket on the back of the couch and grabbed that instead. Wrapping her up in blue fleece, he assessed the damage. Her eyes were focused. Clear. Her color seemed better. And he would make damn sure it stayed that way.
“You want a shower while I put the food on the table?” He gestured down the hall while they dripped on the rug near the French doors. “There’s a bathroom off the spare bedroom on the right. It connects to a walk-in closet that has some extra clothes. You can grab a T-shirt or whatever you need out of there.”
“Sounds good.” She gave a firm nod, as if she was as determined as him to put the incident in the water behind them. “Thank you.”
Her gaze roamed over his face, slowing at his mouth, lingering there. Was she thinking about that kiss they’d shared, too? He still couldn’t believe what he’d agreed to out in the bay with her. In a perfect world, they’d take things slow and easy. Not rush into anything. But if she kept up those long looks of hers … he’d find it hard to be the sensible one.
SLIDING INTO ONE of Danny’s T-shirts, Stephanie paused to bury her nose in the cotton at one shoulder. Granted, she probably only smelled laundry detergent. But there was something about wearing a man’s clothes that made her feel sexy and safe at the same time. Like having some of Danny’s strength around her 24/7.
Wouldn’t that be addicting if she wasn’t careful?
She pushed the wicker basket full of clean shirts back into the closet cubby, reminding herself that part of the reason Danny seemed like a safe choice right now was that he’d only be home for a few weeks. She hadn’t known that his stay would be quite that short, but she’d realized it was inevitable he’d go back to sea for his job. No chance of getting in over her head with a guy due to leave before the month’s end.
Pulling through her tangled hair with a wide comb she’d found in a drawer by the sink, Stephanie peered into another wicker basket and found a stack of running shorts. She dug deeper until she spied a gray pair with a drawstring waist that might cinch enough to fit. Her underwear was soaked, so she’d have to go commando. Which might be fine down below, but up top? She stepped from the closet back into the bathroom and checked her reflection. A second T-shirt was definitely in order if she wanted to give the girls halfway decent coverage.
Snagging a second white T-shirt, she pulled it over her head, determined to enjoy her time with Danny from this moment forward. She’d freaked out in the water, but she was done with that now.
Yes, she’d been traumatized when her assignment in Iraq had turned hellish. The family who’d grabbed her and reporter Christina Marcel had been coerced into doing so. Apparently, the family had angered Iraqi insurgents the week before when their oldest son had met with Christina to be interviewed for a story on the effects of the war on the Iraqi people.
Furious that the young man had talked to American reporters, insurgents had killed him and demanded the family use their connections to abduct and hold the reporters or risk seeing another one of their sons gunned down. Her captors hadn’t been as cruel as seasoned rebel soldiers might have been, but Stephanie had still been terrified of them, knowing they would do whatever the insurgents wished.
She hadn’t been raped, although she’d been beaten when she was first taken, to keep her from trying to escape. She’d been scared to death and she still had nightmares about being kept in the dark.
But she’d dealt with it. Put it behind her. And now, years later, she was finally ready for this. For Danny Murphy, the last great memory she had before she went to Iraq. Keeping that in mind, she padded through the hall toward the big, open kitchen.
“It smells fantastic,” she observed lightly, hoping to get this day back on track. She’d survived the worst of her awkward request of Danny, so now she only had to enjoy the fruits of her embarrassment.
He’d said yes, after all. She shivered just thinking about what that meant.
“I hope you brought your appetite.” He stood by the coffee table, arranging plates and glasses on the heavy plank top so they could eat on the sofa. Steam wafted from the plain white dishes loaded with manicotti and red sauce. Salad bowls were heaped with fresh greens and grated cheeses. And a bread basket held several slices of the baguette, some that were plain and some slathered with butter and lightly broiled.
He’d changed into dry shorts and a worn black concert T-shirt for some obscure band, the lettering peeling. His dark hair was still damp and sticking up in a few places as if he’d just used his fingers to shove it out of his eyes.
Her mouth watered for the man as much as the meal.
“I didn’t realize I was hungry until now.” She edged around the sofa to take a spot in front of the low table. “The view is pretty great, too.” Realizing she happened to be staring at him at the moment, she pointed hastily out the window. “I mean, of the bay.”
He sat beside her on the sofa.
“I like the view, too.” He never took his eyes off her. While that comment sank in, he lifted a glass of water and handed it to her, then raised his own. “Here’s to old friends.”
Her heart beat fast. She resisted the urge to tug at the layered T-shirts she wore, knowing her body would be sending obvious signals about how much he affected her. The soft cotton created a pleasurable friction against her breasts.
“Cheers to that.” She clinked her tumbler to his and sipped the water, hoping it would help cool her off. “Don’t let me slow you down, Danny. You must be starving.”
She gestured toward his plate and he grinned.
“I’ll try not to inhale it,” he said as he picked up a fork and dug in.
Following suit, she tasted the manicotti and promptly realized what he liked about the simple dish. The cheese filling was light and amazing. The pasta obviously homemade. And the sauce—yum. She’d polished off half of it before it occurred to her that, delicious as the food was, she wasn’t coming close to fulfilling her real hunger.