“The main thing to remember is that here at Moon Bay, we consider our dolphins our guests. When you’re swimming with them, don’t turn and stalk them, because, for one thing, they’re faster than you can begin to imagine, and they’ll disappear on you in seconds flat. And also, they hate it. Let them come to you—and they will. They’re here because they’re social creatures. We never force them to interact with people—they want to. Any animal in the lagoon knows how to leave the playing arena. And when they choose to leave, we respect their desire to do so. When they come to you naturally, you’re free to stroke them as they pass. Try to keep your hands forward of the dorsal fin. And just stroke—don’t pound or scratch, okay?”
Alex McCord’s voice was smooth and normal—or so she hoped—as she spoke with the group of eight gathered before her. She had done a lot of smiling, while she first assured the two preteen girls and the teenage boy, who looked like a troublemaker, that she wasn’t angry but they would follow the rules. A few of her other smiles had been genuine and directed at two of the five adults rounding out the dive, the father of the boy and the mother of the girls.
Then there were her forced smiles. Her face was beginning to hurt, those smiles were so forced.
Because she just couldn’t believe who was here.
The world was filled with islands. And these days the world was even filled with islands that offered a dozen variations of the dolphin experience.
So what on earth was David Denhem doing here, on her island, suddenly showing an extraordinary curiosity regarding her dolphins? Especially when his experiences must reduce her swims to a mom-and-pop outing, since he’d been swimming with great whites at the Great Barrier Reef, photographed whales in the Pacific, fed lemon sharks off Aruba and filmed ray encounters in Grand Cayman. So why was he here? It had been months since she’d seen him, heard from him or even bothered to read any of the news articles regarding him.
But here he was, the ultimate ocean man. Diver, photographer and salvage entrepreneur extraordinaire. Six-two, broad shoulders bronzed, perfect features weathered, deep blue gaze focused on her as if he were fascinated by her every word, even though his questions made it clear he knew as much about dolphins as she did.
She might not have minded so much, except that for once she had been looking forward to the company of another man—an arresting and attractive man who apparently found her attractive, as well.
John Seymore, an ex–navy SEAL, was looking to set up a dive business in the Keys. Physically, he was like a blond version of David. And his eyes were green, a pleasant, easygoing, light green. Despite his credentials, he’d gone on her morning dive tour the day before, and she’d chatted with him at the Tiki Hut last night and found out that he’d signed on for the dolphin swim, as well. He’d admitted that he knew almost nothing about the creatures but loved them.
She’d had a couple of drinks…she’d danced. She’d gone so far as to imagine sex.
And now…here was David. Distorting the image of a barely formed mirage before it could even begin to find focus. They were divorced. She had every right to envision a life with another man, so the concept of a simple date shouldn’t make her feel squeamish. After all, she sincerely doubted that her ex-husband had been sitting around idle for a year.
“They’re really the most extraordinary creatures in the world,” Laurie Smith, one of Alex’s four assistants, piped up. Had she simply stopped speaking, Alex wondered, forcing Laurie to chime in. Actually, Alex was glad Laurie had spoken up. Alex had been afraid that she was beginning to look like a bored tour guide, which wasn’t the case at all. She had worked with a number of animals during her career. She had never found any as intelligent, clever and personable as dolphins. Dogs were great; and so were chimps, but dolphins were magical.
“You never feel guilty, as if the dolphins are scientific rats in a lab—except, of course, that entertaining tourists isn’t exactly medical research.”
That came from the last member of the group, the man to whom she needed to be giving the most serious attention. Hank Adamson. He wasn’t as muscled or bronzed as David and John, but he was tall and lithe, wiry, sandy-haired, and wearing the most stylish sunglasses available. He was handsome in a smooth, sleek, electric way and could be the most polite human being on earth. He could also be cruel. He was a local columnist, and he also contributed to travel magazines and tour guides about the area. He could, if he thought it was justified, be savage, ripping apart motels, hotels, restaurants, theme parks and clubs. There was something humorous about his acidic style, which led to his articles being syndicated across the country. Alex found him an irritating bastard, but Jay Galway, manager of the entire Moon Bay facility, was desperate to get a good review from the man.
Adamson had seemed to enjoy the dive-boat activities the day before. She’d been waiting for some kind of an assault, though, since he’d set foot on the island. And here it was.
“The lagoon offers the animals many choices, Mr. Adamson. They can play, or they can retire to their private area. Additionally, our dolphins were all born in captivity, except for Shania, and she was hurt so badly by a boat propeller that she wouldn’t have survived in the open sea. We made one attempt to release her, and she came right back. Dolphins are incredibly intelligent creatures, and I believe that they’re as interested in learning about our behavior as we are in theirs.” She shifted focus to address the group at large. “Let’s begin. Is there any particular behavior you’ve seen or experienced with the dolphins you’d like to try again.”
“I want to ride a dolphin,” the boy, Zach, said.
“The fin ride. Sure, we can start with that. Would you like to go first?”
“Yeah, can I?”
She smiled. Maybe the kid wasn’t a demon after all. Dolphins had a wonderful effect on people. Once, she’d been given a group of “incorrigibles” from a local “special” school. They’d teased and acted like idiots at first. Then they’d gotten into the water and become model citizens.
“Absolutely. One dolphin or two?”
“Two is really cool,” David said quietly, offering a slight grin to the boy.
“Two.”
“Okay, in the water, front and center. Fins on, no masks or snorkels right now,” Alex said.
The others waited as the boy went out into the lagoon and extended his arms as Alex indicated. She signaled to Katy and Sabra, and the two dolphins sleekly obeyed the command, like silver streaks of light sliding beneath the water’s surface.
Zach was great, taking a firm hold of each fin and smiling like a two-year-old with an oversize lollipop as the mammals swam him through the water, finishing up by the floating dock, where they were rewarded as they dropped their passenger. Zach was still beaming.
“Better than any ride I’ve ever been on in my life!” he exclaimed.
“Can I go next?” one of the girls asked. Tess. Cute little thing, bright eyes, dark hair. Zach had been trying to impress her earlier. Tess opted for one dolphin, and Alex chose Jamie-Boy.
One by one, everyone got to try the fin ride. John Seymore was quieter than the kids, but obviously pleased. Even Hank Adamson—for all his skepticism and the fact that he seemed to be looking for something to condemn—enjoyed his swim.
Alex was afraid that David would either demur—this was pretty tame stuff for him—or do something spectacular. God knew what he might whisper to a dolphin, and what a well-trained, social animal might do in response. But David was well-behaved, looking as smooth and sleek as the creatures themselves as he came out of the water. The only irritating thing was that he and John Seymore seemed to find a tremendous amount to talk about whenever she was busy with the others. Then, during the circle swim, David disappeared beneath the surface for so long that the two parents in the group began to worry that he had drowned.
“Are you sure he’s all right?” Ally Conroy, Zach’s mother,