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Cold dark water washed over her head and pulled her under. Nicole hugged the extra life preserver against the one she had on, held her breath and started kicking as hard as she could. She was tumbled and rolled in the wave, then, just when she thought she couldn't hold her breath any longer, she was bobbing on the surface and gasping in air. Clutching the life preserver, she fought the churning water, trying to swim.
Soon she realized her efforts were only going to exhaust her. She forced herself to relax and ride the huge waves, imagining her body to be a human cork bobbing on the surface of the water. She didn't know how many times waves broke over her head and she was sucked under the surface. Or how many times she came up coughing, spitting, praying for air only to inhale rain. Whatever happened, she was on her own. It was up to her to stay alive.
After a while she realized" she'd swallowed a lot of salt water. She stuck her finger down her throat and threw it all up. Then she relaxed and rolled and swayed, pitched and sank with the sea. There were times she thought she'd actually fallen asleep only to be awakened by coughing up water.
It was dark, and though the sea was somewhat warm, the rain was cold. She had no idea what time it was or how long she'd been in the water. She only knew she had to stay alive and rational.
Max would come, she a.s.sured herself. He wouldn't let held on to that thou as she could, but when help didn't come and only darkness met her shouts, she began to cry. John had won, after all. The thought made her angry, and once more she made herself throw up and expel the salt water she'd swallowed.
She must have fallen asleep again. When she was unkindly awakened by a watery slap in the face, she opened her eyes, then wished she hadn't. The sky was growing lighter, and the sea had settled down to a nauseating roll, with waves only as big, she judged, as a car. She shook herself awake and looked around, twisting her body in a full circle when she was carded along on the crest of a wave. There was nothing, nothing but water and sky. No boats or land. But with the light came new terrors. Sharks.
She was a river person, never fond of the ocean because she couldn't see what was swimming around her or below her. Now her mind decided to play tricks, and snips and s.n.a.t.c.hes of every doc.u.mentary she'd ever seen on sharks crossed the screen of her mind. Bone-chilling fear was something new to Nicole, and she deeply resented it. She refused to look around any longer, afraid she'd see that distinctive triangular fin cutting through the waves.
Instead, she studied the life preserver she still clutched in her numb fingers. Something caught her eye, and one by one she forced her fingers loose and turned the jacket around. There were some boldly printed black letters. It took a moment to clear her mind enough to read the writing. She was weary and had to read it three times before the meaning sunk in. Her chin touched the top of the life preserver as she studied the words, then the black object. on the shoulder of the jacket. Following the directions, she pulled a cord.
A red light began to blink rhythmically, and a moment later it started emitting a beeping sound. Pulling the life jacket she'd been holding closer, she rested her head on it. This time, instead of crying, she started laughing. Just when she'd been about to give in, there was hope, after all. Now it was up to Max. She thought of him, keeping him close, talking to him in her mind when she felt herself going to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
MAx STOOD on the deck of the yacht, his legs spread wide for balance, his bare feet clinging to the slick surface. Waves smashed against the bow of the boat, sending up fans of water that rained down on him. He didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything but desolation.
After a night of battling the sea and the wind, struggling to keep the yacht afloat and stay alive, they were all exhausted. Morning crept up on them. The sky was gray and still dotted with clouds, though they were light gray, instead of boiling black. He sighed and thanked heaven the wind had died. It had almost been the death of them last night. They'd weathered the hurricane.
Max wiped he spray of water from his face, his gaze on the horizon and the water around them. Nicole was alive. She had to be. He refused to think otherwise. Still, his pain was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was the pain of guilt. If he hadn't been so d.a.m.n obsessed with getting John Gillman, none of it would have happened.
He'd promised her he would take care of her, that she would be safe, and he'd failed. Crossing his arms over the thick life preserver, he s.h.i.+fted his weight with the motion of the s.h.i.+p and watched the waves roll by, He hadn't heard Doug's approach over the SOUnd of the sea battering the bow, but felt the heavy hand on his shoulder.
"She's out there, Doug, waiting for us to find her." "You're going to have to face the truth, Max. Our boat is twice as big, the engine more powerful than what Gillman rented. And we almost didn't make it."
Max shook his head as he continued to search the sea as far as "he could see. "She's alive."
One of Doug's lenses was cracked, and the frame sat c.o.c.keyed on his face. His hair was wet, sticky with salt and stuck to his head like a cap. Still, he adjusted his gla.s.ses and tried to finger-comb his hair. "Jim's managed to get the Coast Guard, and they're going to mount an air-and-sea search as soon as they can." He tightened his grip on Max's shoulder. "That boat couldn't have made it through last night."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But what if they were close to an island? She could have managed. She could have saved herself."
Finally Max looked at Doug with eyes that were dark pools of fear and a face gaunt with strain. Doug swallowed, then bit his lip to keep from inflicting any more pain on his friend. He patted the stiffly held shoulder. "We won't give up."
Max jerked away, not from Doug's pity, but because he'd spotted something bright riding the ridge of a wave before it plunged down and out of sight. He moved to the side of the yacht and stared, waiting for it to resurface on the next wave. When it did, he spun around, pushed Doug out of his way and raised his arm to get Jim's attention on the navigation deck. He pointed to where he'd seen the object, then felt the big Rolls-Royce engines dig into the water as Jim changed Doug grabbed hold of the railing to keep from being knocked over, thankful for the millionth time that he had on a life preserver. "What'd you see?"
Max didn't hear him, didn't even know his friend was standing at his side as he kept watch for the object he'd seen. For ten minutes they circled the area, rolling and rocking with the waves. Finally it was Doug who spotted it again, and Jim steered the big yacht closer.
A destroyed boat bow, the wood crushed and ripped apart, sc.r.a.ped the side of the yacht as it swept by. Max closed his eyes. He knew in his heart it had to be from Gillman's boat. His hands tightened on the railing and his body bent forward as he swayed back and forth with the weight of loss and pain. He'd been so sure he wouldn't lose her. Now, faced with the truth, he was haunted by the agony of his loss, knowing she couldn't possibly have survived.
Jim's shout and the urgency in his voice roused Max from the dark pit of despair. Suddenly Doug was tugging him across the deck and up the steps to the fly deck. He stopped in the doorway, watching as Jim pointed to the radar screen. Hope surged through him. For a second he lifted his gaze toward heaven and said a quick prayer: "I'm getting two blips on radar." Jim turned his back on his bosses, opened the throttle and changed the yacht's course. "It's an emergency homing device with a light that emits a signal. I may be wrong, but I think it's the kind used on life vests."
Max decided to stay on the navigation deck with Jim and Doug. He had a better view of the surrounding water. He was the first to see the red blinking light. Then he caught sight of something orange and knew Jim was right. His heart leaped into his throat. He shouted orders at Jim and Doug, then scrambled down the steps.
Doug was directly behind him and had to bodily tackle Max to keep his friend from diving over the side. "Don't be stupid." Max reared back as if to hit him, then caught himself and waited.
"Get the safety line." When Doug didn't move, Max forced his muscles to relax and said, "Please do it and hurry." He endured the torture of waiting for Doug to return with the safety harness and rope. Waited longer for him to secure the rope to the loop in the harness. As soon as Doug had tested the knot, satisfied it wasn't going to come undone in the water, Max pushed himself over the side of the Yacht. He came up fast out of the darkness. With strong steady strokes he battled the roller-coaster waves and began swimming toward the blinking red light.
Nicole heard Max calling her name. But she ignored it telling herself it was just one more hallucination. She'd become accustomed to the lulling motion of the waves, comfortable with it and longed to go back to sleep. Her limbs were like leaded weights, and she'd long since stopped trying to swim to stay awake and alert. If it wasn't for her life preserver, she would have simply sunk to the bottom of the sea.
Max's voice wouldn't go away. "It was like a pesky fly that refused to let her go back to sleep, and it was getting closer. She struggled to open her eyes, then lifted her head. As the motion of the wave pulled her upward to the crest, she thought she saw a face cutting through the water. But then she rode the motion of the wave down and lost sight of it. She must be dreaming. Then she saw the face again and heard her name.
Max. Her lips were cracked and swollen and her tongue was too big for her mouth, but she strained to call his name. Then she felt his hands on her shoulders, her face, heard his strong voice crack with emotion. She thought she saw tears in his eyes. "I knew ... you'd come," she croaked.
"Hush. Hush, honey. You're safe." He couldn't believe it--she'd survived! He touched her face, her hair, rea.s.suring himself she was real. Filled with wonder and relief, he let his eyes drink in the sight of her. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her so she'd never get away or be scared again. But the bulky life preservers they were wearing kept them at arm's length. Suddenly Doug was in the water beside them, lending his help to get her to the yacht.
The sea didn't want to give her up, and it took all three men to pull her out of the water and on board. Then she was in Max's arms, and he carried her across the deck, through a door and into the beautiful stateroom. The air-conditioned interior made her s.h.i.+ver and shake, but before she could voice her discomfort Max was stripping off her life preserver and wrapping her in blankets. He placed her on the white leather couch, sat beside her, then pulled her into his lap.
She couldn't talk, just watched as Doug brought over a couple of bottles of fresh water and Max helped her drink. It tasted like heaven and she would have emptied it if Max had allowed her.
"Sip, don't chugalug it Montana. You'll get sick." She wanted to laugh, wanted to tell him how many times she'd been sick already. But she was too exhausted to talk. Her smile, when she tried, hurt, and she touched her mouth and winced. Max captured her hand to keep her from exploring further. "Prolonged immersion in salt water ravages the skin, but it's nothing that won't heal with some attention and time. You'll be fine." He gave her a big sloppy grin when she glared back. She was going to be fine. "Of course, right now you look a or like a white shriveled-up prune."
"Thanks." She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she was clear in her thoughts and felt more alert. Her voice no longer sounded like a frog. It resembled a foghorn and made the men laugh.
"Let me do the talking," Max said, "and I'll see if I can answer all your questions before you ask. Jim's calling the island to let Helen and the others know we found you, then he's setting a course for Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas. We'll get you to a doctor and make sure you're okay."
"John?" she asked, knowing she didn't need to say more.
Max shook his head. "We saw some wreckage. I'm not even sure if it was his boat. Was he wearing a life vest?" She shook her head, and after a thoughtful moment he said, "I wouldn't hold out much hope for his chances. The Coast Guard's going to make a thorough search. We'll just have to see what they turn up." He s.h.i.+fted her weight in his lap so he could hold her closer. "I'm sorry, Montana. I almost got you killed."
She should have said something to relieve the pain and guilt she saw in his face, but she was safe, warm and in his arms. She closed her eyes. Surely, whatever their problems were, they would be gone when she opened them again.
NIcot AWO!(on the third day after her rescue with the same feeling of dread and hopelessness that had plagued her since she was taken from the yacht. She spent the first day in a clinic under a doctor's care, then she was transferred to a luxury hotel where everyone from the island was now staying.
Staring at the ceiling, she heaved a long soulful sigh and thought over the past two days of answering endless questions. The authorities wanted to know all about John and what had happened on the yacht before she was washed overboard. At first the island officials had trouble accepting her story, until Max, Doug and Helen gave their statements, filling in all the details of the setup to trap Gillman. Then she had to relate how John had confessed to killing Sandra. It was confusing at times, and when she found herself reduced to un-characteristic tears, Max stepped in and called a halt to the proceedings.
She'd found out the Coast Guard, with the help of Doug and Jim, had conducted an extensive search for John. They found the remains of his yacht washed up on one of the many smaller islands in the chain--but no body.
Nicole turned her head and smiled. Helen seemed to have taken up residence in the chair next to her bed and refused to budge, no matter what. "Hi," she said. "You're awake again?"
"I don't understand why I'm so d.a.m.n fired." Helen stood and stretched. She grasped Nicole's hand. "Shock, the doctor said." She turned when the door opened and waved Max in. "Max, tell her everything will be fine, that she's just suffering from shock."
Nicole fell silent and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were filled with tears. "It's more than that. More like a guilty conscience."
"You have nothing to feel guilty about!" Helen said fiercely.
Max moved to stand on the other side of the bed.
"You did what you had to do, Nicole, to stay alive." "I killed a man, New York."
"A man who was trying to kill you."
"I know that, but..."
"You did what you had to do."
She ignored him. "Methodically. Deliberately. I planned it from the moment I realized where I was. It didn't matter that John was trying to kill me. When I knew for certain that the boat wasn't going to make land anywhere, and if it did, he was going to make sure I wasn't on it I started mapping out my moves to force his hand. I pushed him until he lost control. Not only his temper but the boat. All I could think about was that he'd killed my sister and gotten away with it but he wasn't going to do it a second time."
Helen rested her head on the edge of the bed and cried. Nicole squeezed her hand. "It's over now. You can let go of her."
Helen sat up, pulled a tissue from her skirt pocket and wiped her eyes. "I know she's at peace now. But you're not, are you?"
"No."
Standing, Helen motioned for Max to take her chair. "I'm sorry we got you mixed up in this, Nicky, but I'm not sorry John had to pay with his life. He got what he deserved. Poetic justice, even if it was staged. A greater power than us will be his final judge. Personally I hope he rots in h.e.l.l."
Max waited until the woman had shut the door behind her. "I think I-Ielen'll be okay now," He looked at Nicole. "Well, Montana, it's been a h.e.l.l of a ride, hasn't it?"
"Yes." So this was it she thought. He was going to write her off and walk out of her life. She'd done her job. Now it was all over.
He was rarely at a loss for words. But now he couldn't seem to find where to start or the right thing to say. There were a hundred things he wanted to tell her, but nothing came to mind. His conscience kept reminding him that he'd almost gotten her killed. The guilt was hard to swallow. "I've talked to Charlie every day. He's doing fine but misses you."
"I know. I've talked to him, too." She couldn't bring herself to ask, Where do we go from here? It stuck in her throat like a burr. Instead, she said, "I think it's time I got up, don't you?"
"Try out your land legs?" He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was so d.a.m.n beautiful and fragile. "Only if you're feeling up to it." He got quickly to his feet. "I'll get Helen to help you."
He couldn't wait to leave her, she thought. He'd just walk away after all they'd shared, all they'd had together. Then she reminded herself of something she'd told him--it was only s.e.x. Maybe he realized she was right. Well, it was great while it lasted, but obviously it was over. There was an awful pain in her chest, as if someone was squeezing her heart. She wasn't going to cry. She was strong and tough and not a crybaby.
When Helen opened the door, she found Nicole sobbing and rushed to her side. "What did he do?"
Nicole struggled to control her tears. "Why would you think Max has anything to do with it?"
"Only a woman deeply in love cries like that when a man walks out on her."
"He's nothing to me."
"Sure, and you're nothing to him. That's why he looked like someone had just ripped out his heart and stomped on it."
Nicole accepted a tissue from Helen and attempted 'to wipe away the tears, but they kept dripping like a leaky faucet. "I thought... Oh, never mind."
"You thought he might be in love with you, too?" "No." Nicole sighed. "Yes."
"Now we're getting somewhere." Helen began to pace the small area beside the bed. "He does love you. Maybe he just doesn't know it yet. Like most men he needs a kick in the b.u.t.t to make him think." Helen smiled. "My late husband used to tell me a little story. Do you want to hear it?"
She didn't wait for Nicole to answer. "Well, you see there were these two bulls standing on top of a mountain looking down at a herd of cows. The young bull says, "Why don't we run down there and mount one?" The old bull says, "Why don't we walk down and mount them all?"" Helen started to pace again. "What do bulls have to do with me and Max?" "Oh, nothing. Just that timing is important, and you can get more by taking things slowly than rus.h.i.+ng." She smiled at Nicole. "Maybe Max needs to be forced down the mountain."
She had no idea what Helen was talking about, but the smile and the glint in the older woman's eyes made her uneasy. "I want to get up. I want my boots and jeans, and I want to go home."
"Of course you do. I think the authorities are through questioning you, but I'll find out. Then I'll call my pilot and have him fly you back to Montana today."
HOME. HER HAVEN, her comfort zone. Home. The mere word gave her a warm fuzzy feeling, a sense of oneness with what was familiar.
Home offered peace and shelter, and if her heart hadn't heeled completely, the love freely offered by her father and friends helped make her days bearable. But even her father had finally become sick of her long face, heavy sighs, seesawing moods and ill temper. He kicked her out of the house and told her to go stay on the mountain, and not come back until she could behave like a normally functioning adult. His words stung, but she knew he was right. She had to find some emotional middle ground to deal with what she'd done and the vivid memories.
Nights were the hardest. That was when she allowed herself to think of what had happenedmand, of course, Max. He'd let her leave the island without a word just a brotherly peck on the cheek and some inane comment about taking care of herself. By the time she reached Montana, she was furious with him and herself. Despite her vow, she'd been a fool once more.
Parking the Jeep under the overhang of tree limbs, she climbed out and headed down the trail to her private spot--the warm spring. It had been almost two weeks since she'd left St. Thomas, and no matter how much she worked at forgetting Max, he would pop into her head when she least expected it. The memories had the power to wipe her out and leave her an emotional wreck.
Her boot slipped on the pebble-strewn ledge, and she grabbed the side of the cliff and pressed her face against cool rock, then closed her eyes and waited until her heart stopped hammering against her ribs, She'd never been careless before, no matter how distracted, "Her anger made her careful as she edged along. But she was puzzled by something and stopped to inspect the ledge. She noticed the smattering of small rocks that had been pulled free from the cliff. The wind usually swept the ledge clean of any rubble. She moved on, watching where she stepped and keeping her mind on what she was doing.
More than anything she needed the serenity of her own little paradise. She jumped from the ledge to firm ground, then came to a halt, c.o.c.ked her head and listened. For a moment she could have sworn she heard sounds of movement, but whatever it was it was gone now. She scrambled down the slope, rounded the outcropping of boulders wedged into the cliff, then stopped in shock.
"Did you think I was going to let you just walk out of my life?"
"Max*." She couldn't believe it. He was standing no more than a few feet away. She noticed the blanket spread beside the pool, the picnic basket, the bottle of wine and two gla.s.ses. But her gaze was only for him. "How? Why?"
"The how ... well, I called your father a couple of days ago and told him I was coming, but didn't want you to know until I was here. He's good at keeping secrets."
She smiled. "And lying his head off."
"Yes. But so are JD, Penny and Reed. JD met me at the airport, Penny took care of me at the lodge and packed the picnic, then Reed led me to this place."
Nicole bit her lip to keep from smiling. "How did you know I'd come here? How did you know my father would kick me out of the house?" She wanted to touch him, to be held in his arms, but she was afraid to move, afraid that this was just a figment of her imagination.
"I didn't. All Charlie was supposed to do was send you to the mountain. It was JD and Penny who told me you'd head for your secret place." He studied her carefully as he talked, happy to see that she looked better than the last time he'd seen her. The strain and sadness were gone from her eyes, and there was color in her cheeks She couldn't stand it any longer and asked, "Why are you here, Max?"
"Why? Fd think it was obvious." She scowled at him and he grinned.
"I must be getting dense. The last time I saw you, you were sending me away without a backward glance. You let me leave thinking you didn't care."
"Never that, Montana. I let you leave because I cared too d.a.m.n much." He wanted to take her in his arms, but knew Nicole was likely to be put off by any show of pa.s.sion at the moment. She wanted an explanation. "I was responsible for what happened to you. I almost got you killed. Worst of all, Gillman's death was on your conscience. Things never should have happened like that, Nicky. I know what you must have felt, and knowing, I thought you needed some time alone to heal." He took a step forward. "Doug and Helen told me I was a fool to stay away any longer. Helen's not a woman easily dismissed."
Nicole grinned. "I know. Did she lend you her plane to get here?"
Max laughed. "Yes. Once I'd agreed to come, everything was taken out of my hands. Between Helen and Doug, I didn't have a chance." He could have told her the plans Helen had, but thought Helen would skin him alive if he let Nicky know she was about to become a very rich woman. Helen was making sure that Nicky inherited her sister's portion of the estate. He thought he'd hold off telling her that Doug, Helen and some of the others were on their way to Montana to make sure he didn't mess up again. He took another step closer to her. "I love you, Nicky."
She stared, unsure she'd heard correctly. "What did you say?"
Max rubbed a hand over his face, then back through his hair. She wasn't going to make it easy. "I love you."
"You love me? Why?"
"How the h.e.l.l do I know why?" he snapped. "I just do." Then he realized she was teasing and relaxed. She had that sparkle in her eyes that made his pulse race. It was time he gave her a real shock. "I've gone into a new line of business and taken on a couple of partners. I'll have to do some relocating."
"What does that have to do with What business? You already have a business in New York."
"I still have that, though on a limited interest." He stepped closer. "2Want to know who my new partners are?"
"Yes." She couldn't understand why her heart was suddenly pounding as if it knew something her head had yet to know. Her hands were shaking, and she jammed them into the back pockets of her jeans. One thing she was sure of, Sandra was no longer in the equation. Nicole could see the change in his eyes, the way he looked at her and saw only her, Nicky. "You're not going to be happy until you tell me, are you?"