Course of the Heart (10 page)

“You take the urn and wait for me on the beach,” Drew said, then ran his hand over his mouth. “I’m going to bury this guy.”

Sam sat on the beach while he completed his task, feeling very nervous. The urn sat in the sand next to her as she continually scanned the distance for any signs of approaching boats.
Sail Out
listed peacefully in the breeze out from the beach its strong lines portraying anything but the stress and weakness Sam felt.

The azure skies and aqua water held less appeal to her now, tainted by the ugliness of death. The trip so far had been anything but restful or peaceful, even considering the one night of passion with Drew. Those few hours with him had been like a dream in a nightmare. She tried hard not to think about that time with him, mainly because she found it hard to describe what she was feeling. The physical part had been beyond her wildest dreams. But had that been what it was all about? She found it hard to describe how she felt about him. It was so much more than a physical act, and yet doubts crept in to suggest that was all it was. Other than to say he was crazy about her, there had been no words of love spoken by either of them—only silent hunger, bordering on lust. During one moment it was if she’d known him all her life, then the next moment he was a stranger. Had the reality of their near-death experiences sparked the passion? Had the acts been more of a celebration of life than expression of love?

The confusion continued to spin around in her mind as a noise from behind startled her. She whirled defensively and looked up at him. For a moment she didn’t recognize him, until she realized he had his hand over his nose and mouth, still holding the shell he’d used to dig with. His normally rich, tanned face looked sick and pallid.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess so. Just a little jumpy.” She stood and picked up the urn. “What about you? You don’t look so good.”

He took it from her hands but didn’t answer. “Let’s get back to the boat.”

Drew waded out to the damaged boat and placed the urn inside. Uprooting the anchor, he set it in the boat. Standing in waist deep water he motioned for her to jump in, then followed. Their weight tested the buoyancy of the dinghy, but the outboard motor was still above water. Drew pulled on the start chord, and after several attempts the engine sputtered to life. He steered the dinghy toward the sailboat and pulled the stern plug, ridding the boat of water. With three sections of the vessel unharmed, it provided plenty of buoyancy to keep the inside dry.

After arriving at
Sail Out,
Drew hoisted the engine from the transom and placed it gently on a tarp inside the cockpit. She helped him drag the dinghy on deck.

“I’ve got a patch kit below. Are you up to doing some mending?”

She nodded. “Can we get out of here?”

“My thoughts exactly.” He hesitated for a moment.

“What?”

“I know you had your heart set on flying out to Miami. But I don’t think it’s a good idea now to go back to Andros. I don’t have any idea where Bynum got this dinghy, there’re no markings on it. But sooner or later, somebody’s going to realize it’s missing. I think we ought to be as far gone from here as possible by the time they come looking.”

“That’s fine.” She realized she had no idea how that made her feel. Part of her wanted to run as far from Drew Richey as she could, and the rest of her wanted to stay.

“Are you sure?” He searched her face. “Three days tops and we’ll be at Georgetown, Great Exuma. Nice airport there, but not one anyone might think you’d use.”

Do you want me to stay?
She studied him and wondered what he was thinking. He wasn’t giving any hints of an opinion of any sort.

“Doesn’t look like there’s much of a choice,” she said coldly. He hesitated, turned, and made his way down the ladder into the cabin.

Silence prevailed over the next couple of hours as Sam went about patching the dinghy. Drew set sail on a southeastern reach, stopping by periodically to guide her in the task. By mid-afternoon he declared the glue on the patch dry and Sam began filling the repaired section with air, using a foot pump. A short time later Drew looked over from the wheel and nodded.

“Looks good. Great job. Looks as good as new.” He motioned to the bow of the boat. “That’s Waderwich Wells Cay coming up. The charts show a few nice secluded looking coves. We’ll see if we can find a good place to drop anchor before dark.”

Between thinking about pirates and thoughts of her time with Drew, Sam wondered if she would ever sleep again.

“How about a drink?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow. Patchwork was harder than she had imagined.

“Scotch sounds good,” he said, again flashing that sexy smile.

The sun chased across the sky as Sam brought dinner up to the deck. Drew appeared on the transom with fins and snorkel after securing the boat anchors for the night. She handed him a fresh drink.

“Thanks,” he said, winded. “Something smells good.”

“Tuna, ala tuna. It’s a good thing you like tuna.”

“Don’t know how you find ways to make it so good.” He took a sip of the Scotch.

The rum drinks she had made for herself were doing the trick in relaxing her. Another by-product of life with Drew Richey? After her experience with Brad’s drinking, she would have never thought she would be taking up the habit herself. One thing she had learned though, some men could hold their liquor without losing their cool. Drew dried off and put on a fresh shirt, taking a seat at the table across from her. She figured now was as good a time as any to clear the air.

“We need to talk.” She took another sip of courage.

“Okay.” He looked uncomfortable, and put his fork down, placing his hands on the table.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“What do you mean? We’re on our way to Great Exuma to get you on a flight to start your new life.”

“Is that what you want, Drew?”

“Does it matter what I want? This isn’t about me, is it?”

“I think you know where I’m going, so don’t toy with me.”

He hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Samantha. I really don’t have much choice in the matter. I’ve never been one to have much to offer you, or anybody else for that matter.”

“So that’s it?” She pushed back from the table. “That’s all you have to say?”

He shook his head. “Look, maybe answers come easy to you, but for me, I’ve backed myself into a corner. You know what you want, and apparently you have the means to go after that.

“Who would I be to pretend to offer you a better way out of the life you’ve been living? Hell, my choices are few and far between. I was lucky enough to get thrown a bone through the Will of a woman I barely know, and I took it. Now it appears even that could go sour. It’s pretty clear I’ve ruined things with my father. The thought of going back to Auburn to finish school makes me want to puke. Everything hinges on my delivering that urn. And apparently there are a lot of people out there who don’t want that to happen. And if I can’t make that delivery, my options fall to zero. Then where am I? I can’t go back to Fairhope. There’s certainly nothing for me there. I’ve pretty much burned all those bridges. I can’t go back to living like there’s no tomorrow, jumping from bed to bed, wandering around and trying to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life.

“And then you come along and show me that there might be more to life, more than waking up and wondering where the hell I am and who the hell it is next to me, and not having a clue how she got there. You think what happened the other night is only another in a line of my meaningless flings? Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Tears fell from her eyes. “And I don’t know what
you
think. You must consider me like all the others—I certainly didn’t put up much of a fight, now did I?”

“It’s not like that,” he denied, averting his gaze.

“Then what is it like?”

“I don’t
know
.” He stood and slammed his fist on the table. “You tell me. And don’t tell me that we can just magically make it all work out. This isn’t a fairy tale. No matter how I look at it, I can’t see this having a happy ending. Even if I do get that pay-off, I don’t have a clue where to go from there. And you seem like someone who needs a little more certainty than that.”

“You really
don’t
know me, do you?” She forced a smile and wiped the tears from her cheek. What he said hurt, and she felt like such a fool. “I think we had better go back to being . . . whatever it was we were before the other night.”

“So you can do that, huh?”

“Yeah. I
have
to do that. You’re obviously not capable of much more, and quite honestly, I don’t know if I am either.”

“What’s wrong with the way it is now?” he asked, sitting. “Can’t we just see where this goes from here? Do we have to know exactly where things stand right now?”

She thought about that for a moment and then realized the stakes were too high. She had never felt this way about a man. She had to have at least some assurance that it wasn’t another passing thing for him—and that it was real for her. “I’m not made that way, Drew.”

He seemed confused, unable to decide what he wanted to do or say. For a moment she thought she saw tears in his eyes as he quickly looked away.

“Fine.” He placed his napkins on the table. “Thanks for dinner. I better check out the charts for tomorrow.”

He disappeared below, into the light of the cabin, as the sun sizzled into the waters of the Atlantic.

Samantha wanted to cry.

Chapter 8

Drew tossed and turned through the long night. It wasn’t fear that drove his insomnia—the anchorage was ideal, providing much needed protection. Someone would have to be following them closely to know where they were, and he hadn’t noticed any other boats during the entire day. Hopefully the small band of pirates that had attacked days before were long gone. There was no proof that this gang was the one that killed Bynum, but chances were they were one and the same. Even though piracy was alive and well, all over the world, it was rare in an area so frequently patrolled by drug enforcement agencies. Hopefully they had seen the last of the pirates.

Even so, he couldn’t let his guard down. Samantha’s warning about her ex lingered in his mind. Not to mention that it would be unlikely that the bank would sit idly by and ignore the fact that he had defaulted on the loan. He wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t involve the local law enforcement, given his father had reported the boat as stolen. Now Drew understood why he had insisted on co-signing the loan. The bank was out enough money to at least pay for efforts to track the boat down, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where the boat was heading and what route they would take to get there. Under sail, the best way to get from point A to point B is a straight line, even considering the possibility of having to tack. And unlike a motor boat, there was pretty much one speed for the trip—slow.

At first light, Drew threw the covers back and jumped from bed, tugging on his shorts, tee and boat shoes. He shook his head, realizing how stupid he had been to think Samantha might come into his stateroom during the night. He found himself in uncharted territory. She wasn’t the type to fall victim to his prowess in bed. There was so much more to her than the women he had been with in the past. This in itself made him uncomfortable. Instead of wanting to put distance between them, he found he wanted to stay around her. Go figure.

She was in the galley, pouring coffee. She smiled benignly at him and handed him a mug. He may as well have been her customer at a coffee shop.

“Thanks. Think I’ll skip the breakfast bar this morning and get up top, get us going. I know you’re probably anxious to shove off.”

“I’ll be right up to help.” She wiped the counter and began securing the galley.

Halfway up the ladder, Drew turned toward her. “I’m sorry.”

Samantha nodded, turning away.

The day was quiet and the winds cooperative. A cold front had swept across the Gulf Stream, surrounding them with cooler air that helped push the boat down the Exuma Cays at a good clip. At an hour before sunset,
Sail Out
was dead on Great Guana Cay, nearly halfway to Great Exuma. Drew watched as Samantha went below and returned in the familiar black sweats, hugging her body against the drop in temperature. She stretched out on the bow and began reading a paperback, facing the last rays of the setting sun. Except for bringing him a sandwich and soda for lunch, she had spoken little to him. As the western profile of the long island came into view, she closed her book and joined him in the cockpit.

“Made good time today.” He watched as she folded her legs and hugged her knees. “There’s a blanket in the port locker.”

“I’m fine. You want me to take over while you grab warmer clothes?”

He shook his head.

She nodded toward the galley. “I think there’s enough of that luncheon meat we iced down to make a sandwich. I know you must be tired of tuna.”

“Anything’s fine. Not very hungry.” He motioned off the port side of the boat as he turned the wheel in that direction and adjusted the sails. “Should have us tucked in that cove within twenty minutes.”

Samantha brought sandwiches, chips and sectioned oranges up to the cockpit, as Drew secured the sloop firmly against a couple of anchors he had thrown overboard and set. She was surprised to see a couple of other boats across the cove, tied up to each other. Another motor sailor was positioning close to the mouth of the cove.

“First boats I’ve seen all day.” She spread the food on the starboard settee and turned to go below for the drinks.

“Yeah, we’re getting back toward civilization now. We’ll have company all the way to Exuma, probably, despite the chill. Getting right into the middle of the season soon. All up and down the eastern seaboard, everything that floats with any kind of range at all will be headed this way.”

She couldn’t hide her uneasiness, as she returned with the drinks. She handed Drew his and attempted to disarm her fear with a smile. He seemed to read her anxiety.

“Don’t worry, with traffic comes a degree of safety. We won’t stick out so much. We’ll only blend in more. Just another boat, running from the cold.”

She hugged herself against the air, which was getting cooler as the last light of day faded. Although her body needed something warm to drink, her mind needed numbing. She took a long sip of the rum. Watching him sail all day had done little to help her forget the comfort and pleasure that trim hard body had given her not so long ago. She yearned to be close to him again, but blocked the thought quickly, realizing that in a couple of days she would be leaving, maybe never seeing him again. She fought tears. Leaving him was the last thing she wanted. All day long she had dealt with the uncertainty of having to go and start a new life without him. She cursed Brad for turning her world upside down, taking away any possibility of her ever having a normal life again. Yet it was because of him that she had met Drew. Or was it because of Janet? Confusing thoughts swirled through her mind.

She would always be looking over her shoulder, ever mindful that she needed to stay one step ahead of Brad. She knew him well enough to know that as long as he could draw a breath, he would never stop looking for her. What kind of life would that be? If that was the new life she was looking at, she wasn’t sure it was worth it. And then on top of all that, she had to go and fall for a man that could never be hers. She shook her head slightly, as she realized she had admitted the feelings she had for Drew.

“Are you all right?”

She flinched and looked at him as he sat sipping his drink.

“I’m fine.” She looked away as she gathered the plates. “I’m just a little tired. I’m going to clean this up and head to bed.”

He stood. “Let me get this, you go on below and turn in. There are extra blankets in the guest stateroom locker. Looks like it might be a little chilly tonight.”

She yawned and went her way below. Despite being tired, she doubted she could sleep.

She woke, having no memory of preparing for bed after quickly brushing her teeth and washing her face. Still in the black sweats, she shivered against the cold. Braving the frigid air she found the extra blankets and quickly spread them over the berth and fell under them. It was no use, she couldn’t get warm. In less than a minute she made her decision. With blankets wrapped around her she moved from the stateroom, through the galley and into the master stateroom. Not bothering to shed the blankets, she slipped under the thin blanket and moved across the berth toward him, causing him to stir.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and spooned against his warm back. Sam tried not to think about what he might be wearing. As she moved closer to his warm body, she could tell it wasn’t much. Maybe a T-shirt and briefs? “I’m freezing.”

“It’s okay.” His voice was husky with sleep. “Turn over.”

She complied as he turned to face her and pushed an arm under her neck, reversing the spoon. He pulled her against him with his other arm, until his body fully engulfed her, blankets and all. Within seconds her shivers stopped and even though his primal male presence permeated the air, she drifted quickly into a warm cocoon of sleep.

Within minutes, after drawing her close, she stopped shivering and the cadence of her breathing told him she had fallen into sleep. He fought to relax and turn off his mind, willing his body to behave, as sweet girl scents invaded his nostrils. She smelled of flowers and mint, bringing his senses to full alert. He tried all the tricks, counting sheep, thinking of baseball, the whole nine yards. Nothing worked. Not to mention trying to ignore the listing of the boat as the winds from the cold front pitched the boat seductively.

In the end, it was the sad thought of her leaving that brought him down enough to find sleep. As he drifted off, he pulled her close, drinking in her scent and dim outline in the dark, wishing he never had to let her go.

He woke with no idea of how long he had slept, to the soft repeat tickle of her sweet breath on his cheek. Her shroud of blankets was gone and he could feel the fabric of her sweats against his bare legs, as she had wrapped a leg over his thigh. With the sudden realization of her nearness, there was no chance in stopping the reaction from his body. The heat from between her legs drew his erection to her, throbbing and pressing against her pelvic bone. At the change in her breathing, he tensed, retreating. She arched her body toward him, pushing gently against his arousal.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, her lips moving toward his mouth, and brushing against his chin. She found his mouth in the darkness and lightly kissed his lips. He could feel her heartbeat increase as she pressed her breasts against his chest.

“Samantha,” he pleaded, feeling embarrassed at his lack of body control.

“It’s okay,” she croaked and slowly moved her hand toward the top of his briefs. She found the elastic and moved her warm hand inside.

“Samantha, what are you doing?” Drew’s breath hitched as she wrapped her hand around his shaft and pulled his erection upright.

“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think. Make love to me, Drew.”

He pushed her onto her back and pulled her sweat pants over her delicate feet. She sat up and allowed him to strip the sweat top over her head and long soft hair, as she pulled his tee over his head.

He slid off his briefs, then moved on top of her, smothering his mouth against hers. For a long while he kissed her, lightly biting her lower lip as he relished the taste of her. She pushed his shoulders back and over onto the berth with equal urgency and lay on top of him with her breasts against his chest, pushing her tongue into his mouth, spreading her legs over his belly. He was instantly aware of the warm wet heat from her, as she ground her pelvis against his stomach. She moved her legs together, pinching his erection against the warm soft skin of her inner thighs.

With his hands he spread her thighs and scooted her downward, her steamy opening finding the tip of him. He continued moving her body slowly down, until the length of him was buried deep inside of her. She issued a long course moan and her warm wetness surrounded his pulsing erection. Despite the chill in the stateroom, the perspiration built on his chest and created lubrication for enough movement to slide her up and down his body with each thrust. Soon, he felt her tautness on the top of his shaft as she peaked.

“Oh, Drew.” She increased her grip on his shoulders during her release. The soft whisper of her breath in his ear sent him over the top and he filled her with each spasm of his orgasm. As he continued to move, she reached another peak, punctuating her orgasm with a high shrill sound.

As she struggled to catch her breath, she fell to his side, snuggled up close against his neck, and laid her leg across his thighs. After a long silence, her breathing slowed and returned to a calm sleep cadence. He held her close and soon found himself back at the edge of sleep. His mind soon drifted away, the air of the cabin warmed by the scent of sweet girl and lovemaking.

By noon, the day had warmed to a delicious seventy-five degrees. With the northwest wind directly behind them, the sloop seemed only to drift in the docile waves, although Samantha could see that the knot meter registered an impressive speed.

The night had eased the tension from the day before. The morning had been quiet. It was a comfortable silence, defying the impending proposed events of the next forty-eight hours. When she had asked, he had informed her they should arrive at Great Exuma by the middle of the following day. If the wind held, she could be boarding a plane in less than thirty-six hours.

Apparently neither wanted to talk about it.

By dusk the winds had shifted around to the southwest, bringing much warmer air. She helped tuck the sloop into an isolated cove of a tiny island just north of Exuma. There were no other boats around. Drew stood on the transom after setting the anchors and Sam watched as he stripped his swimsuit off, unaware of her perspective as she stood at the top of the ladder. He did a double take as he glanced around and noticed her.

“Thought you were below.” He stood naked on the transom with a bar of soap in his hands. Sam’s eyes feasted on the sight and her body responded. He reached for his trunks.

“Don’t.” She reached behind and unclasped her bikini top. She dropped it on the deck and pealed the bottoms from her hips and stepped out of them. Slowly she made her way across the cockpit to him and into his arms as he lifted her onto his erection. With her arms around his neck and his hands supporting her upper thighs he thrust into her repeatedly, until she climaxed in sync with his release. Drew moved over to the port settee and sat, still inside of her. She kissed him for a long while, aware of his new arousal. Feeling him fill her once again with his erection, she began to move.

“No, be still,” he whispered, and kissed her deeply, pulling her breasts against his salty, wet chest. “Don’t move.”

She found it difficult to be still with his hot shaft pulsating inside of her. She fought back by contracting her vaginal muscles around the base of his shaft.

“Not fair, not fair.”

“You started it, now you be still.” Her wet increased and flooded down around him as he got harder and bigger. The urge to move was intense but she resisted. Without warning his breathing deepened and he moaned softly as he climaxed. The warmth of his release sent spasms through her body and she experienced one of the most intensive orgasms she would have ever believed possible. The flood of desire that this brought got the better of her and she finished her release by moving back and forth on top of him.