Her heart gave a quick jolt. “I really don't –” “Let's go for a ride.”
She blinked. “A ride?”
“In the boat. We've got a couple of hours before dark.”
“A ride in the boat,” she said, unaware that she amused him with her long, relieved sigh. “I'd like that.”
“Good.” He took her hand and pulled her to the pier. “You cast off.” When the dog jumped in beside him, Suzanna realized this was an old routine. For a man who didn't want to appear to have any sentiment, it was a telling thing that he took a dog along for company when he set out to sea.
The engine roared to life. Holt waited only until Suzanna had climbed on board before he headed into the bay.
The wind slapped against her face. Laughing, she clapped a hand to her cap to keep it from flying off. After she'd pulled it on more securely, she joined him at the wheel.
“I haven't been out on the water in months,” she shouted over the engine. “What's the use of living on an island if you never go out on the water?” “I like to watch it.”
She turned her head and caught the bright glint of window glass from the secluded houses on Bar Island. Overhead gulls wheeled and screamed. Sadie barked at them, then settled on the boat cushions with her head on the side so that the wind could send her ears flying.
“Has she ever jumped out?” Suzanna asked him.
He glanced back at the dog. “No. She just looks stupid.”
“You'll have to bring her by the house again. Fred hasn't been the same since he met her.”
“Some women do that to a man.” The salt breeze was carrying her scent to him, wrapping it around his senses so that he drew her in with every breath. She was standing close, braced against the boat's motion. The expression in her eyes was still far off and troubled, and he knew she wasn't thinking of him. But he thought of her.
He moved expertly through the bay traffic, keeping the speed slow and steady as he maneuvered around other boats, passed a hotel terrace where guests sat under striped umbrellas drinking cocktails or eating an early dinner. Far to starboard, the island's three – masted schooner streamed into port with its crowd of waving tourists.
Then the bay gave way to the sea and the water became less serene. The cliffs roared up into the sky. Arrogantly, defiantly, The Towers sat on its ridge overlooking village and bay and sea. Its somber gray stone mirrored the tone of the rain clouds out to the west. Its old, wavy glass glinted with fanciful rainbows. Like a mirage, there were streaks and blurs of color that was Suzanna's garden.
“Sometimes when I went lobstering with my father, I'd look up at it.” And think of you. “Castle Calhoun,” Holt murmured. “That's what he called it.”
Suzanna smiled, shading her eyes with the flat of her hand as she studied the imposing house on the cliffs. “It's just home. It's always been home. When I look up at it I think of Aunt Coco trying out some new recipe in the kitchen and Lilah napping in the parlor. The children playing in the yard or racing down the stairs. Amanda sitting at her desk and working her meticulous way through the mounds of bills it takes to hold a home together. C.C. diving under the hood of the old station wagon to see if she could make a miracle happen and get one more year out of the engine. Sometimes I see my parents laughing at the kitchen table, so young, so alive, so full of plans.” She turned around to keep the house in sight. “So many things have changed, and will change. But the house is still there. It's comforting. You'd understand that or you wouldn't have chosen to live in Christian's cottage, with all his memories.”
He understood exactly, and it made him uneasy. “Maybe I just like having a place on the water.”
Suzanna watched Bianca's tower disappear before she shifted to face him. “Sentiment doesn't make you weak. Holt.”
He frowned out over the water. “I could never get close to my father. We came at everything from different directions. I never had to explain or justify anything I felt or wanted to my grandfather. He just accepted. I guess I figured there was a reason he left me the place when he died, even though I was only a kid.”
It moved her in a very soft, very lovely way that he had shared even that much with her. “So you came back to it. We always come back to what we love.” She wanted to ask him more, what his life had been like during the span of years he'd been away. Why he had turned his back on police work to repair boat motors and props. Had he been in love, or had his heart broken? But he hit the throttle and sent the boat streaking out over the wide expanse of water.
He hadn't come out to think deep thoughts, to worry or to wonder. He had come to give her, and himself, an hour of relaxation, a respite from reality. Wind and speed worked that particular miracle for him. It always had. When he heard her laugh, when she tossed her face up into the sun, he knew he'd chosen well.
“Here, take the wheel.”
It was a challenge. She could hear the dare in his voice, see it in his eyes when he grinned at her. Suzanna didn't hesitate, but took his place at the helm.
She gloried in the control, in the power vibrating under her fingertips. The boat sliced through the water like a blade, racing to nowhere. There was only sea and sky and unlimited freedom. The Atlantic roughened, adding a dash of danger. The air took on a bite that shivered along the skin and made each breath a drink of icy wine.
Her hands were firm and competent on the wheel, her body braced and ready. The wistful look in her eyes had been replaced by a bright fearlessness that quickened his blood. Her face was flushed with excitement, dampened by the spray. She didn't look like a princess now, but like a queen who knew her own power and was ready to wield it.
He let her race where she chose, knowing that she would end where he had wanted her for most of his life. He wouldn't wait another day. Not even another hour.
She was breathless and laughing when she gave him the wheel again. “I'd forgotten what it was like. I haven't handled a boat in five years.”
“You did all right.” He kept the speed high as he turned the boat in a wide half circle.
Still laughing, she rubbed her hands over her arms. “Lord, it's freezing.”
He glanced toward her and felt the punch low in his gut. She was glowing – her eyes as blue as the sky and only more vital, the thin cotton pants and blouse plastered against her slender body, her hair streaming out from under the cap.
When his palms grew damp and unsteady on the wheel, he looked away. Not falling in love, he realized. He'd stopped falling and had hit the ground with a fatal smack. “There's a jacket in the cabin.”
“No, it feels wonderful.” She closed her eyes and let the sensations hammer her. The wild wind, the golden evening sun, the smell of salt and sea and the man beside her, the roar of the motor and the churning wake. They might have been alone, completely, with nothing but excitement and speed, with either of them free to take the wheel and spear off into that fabulous aloneness.
She didn't want to go back. Suzanna drank deeply of the tangy air and thought how liberating it would be to race and race in no direction at all, then to drift wherever the current took her.
But the air was already warming. They were no longer alone. She heard the long, droning horn of a tourist boat as Holt cut the speed and glided toward the harbor.
This too was lovely, she thought. Coming home. Knowing your place, certain of your welcome. She let out a little sigh at the simple familiarity. The blue water of Frenchman Bay deepening now with evening, the buildings crowded with people, the clang of buoys. It was all the more comforting after the frantic race to nowhere.
They said nothing as he navigated across the bay and circled around to drift to his pier. But she was relaxed when she jumped out to secure the lines, when she ran her hands over the dog who leaned against her legs, begging for attention.
“You're quite the sailor, aren't you, girl?” She crouched down to give the dog a good rub. “I think she wants to go again.”
Holt stepped nimbly to the dock and stood a foot apart. “There's a storm coming in.”
Suzanna glanced up and saw that the clouds were blowing slowly but determinedly inland. “You're right. We can certainly use the rain.” Foolish, she thought, to feel awkward now and start talking of the weather. She rose, uncertain of her moves now that he was standing here, tension in every line of his body, his eyes dark and intent on hers. “Thanks for the ride. I really enjoyed it.”
“Good.” The pier swayed when he started forward. Suzanna took two steps back and felt better when her
