Fatal Tide - Iris Johansen [47]
“What are you talking about? You're not like those men at Kafas.”
“No? We have at least one thing in common, and it's damn well not our self-restraint.”
She watched as the door slid forcefully closed behind him. Once again he'd surprised her. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it wasn't Kelby's response. Part sympathy, part anger, part sexual frustration. It had jerked her from the horror of the past to the turbulent present.
But she was also feeling relief, she realized. She had never confided her past to anyone but Carolyn, and it had been strangely cathartic to tell Kelby about Kafas. She felt stronger. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Kelby had no medical training and was just an ordinary person. Maybe she hadn't completely lost that trace of blame Carolyn had worked so hard to eradicate. Kelby had not blamed her. He'd blamed the men who'd victimized her. He'd been protective, angry, and . . . lustful. In a way, that lust had been welcome. Her time at Kafas hadn't lessened his desire for her. It hadn't twisted it or destroyed it. He'd accepted that period of her life as part of her. Even his anger had been comforting, because it showed that he thought she could handle it. Who would have known that the call from Kemal would bring her this sense of greater peace and strength?
Kemal or Kelby? Kemal had given her gentleness and Kelby anger, and she wasn't sure which had been more valuable.
She only knew when that phone rang and Archer came on the line, she'd be more ready to deal with him.
“Halley picked up Dansk and Cobb a few minutes ago,” Nicholas said when Kelby answered the phone. “Do you want me to do anything here in town or come back there?”
“Come back here. I need to get away for a while.”
“You sound uptight. Things not going well?”
“Why shouldn't they? It's such a bright, beautiful world filled with kind, caring people. It's enough to make a man weep with joy.”
Nicholas gave a low whistle. “I'll be back in an hour. Is that soon enough?”
“It will have to be.” Kelby hung up, left the house, and strode down to the pier. Nicholas couldn't get here soon enough for him. He was filled with pity, anger, and frustration and was ready to explode. He needed to get out on the water, tear through the waves, and have the wind blow some of this damn emotion away.
If he couldn't control it, he had to get away from it.
Swim toward the arches. . . .
No, that wouldn't work. He mustn't identify Melis with Marinth. She was the key, not the objective.
So sit down on the pier and wait for Nicholas.
And try not to think of a little golden-haired girl in an organdy dress.
“I know you don't understand,” Melis whispered as she looked down at Pete and Susie in the pens. They were definitely unhappy. The dolphins hated the enclosures that Cal had helped build near the lanai a few days ago. “I wish I could explain it to you.”
“Can't you?” Kelby said from behind her.
She looked up to see him coming toward her. He'd been gone all day, but he'd evidently just showered, because his hair was wet. He was barefoot, without a shirt, and he looked slightly rakish. “What do you mean?”
“I was beginning to think you could talk to them. There's definitely a bond.”
She shook her head. “Though sometimes I feel as if they can read my mind. Maybe they can. Dolphins are strange creatures. The more I learn about them, the more I find I don't know.” She glanced at him. “Did you get the ice-making machine?”
“They're installing it in the jet now.” He grimaced. “The pilot was a little confused about the necessity of it. I had to convince him we weren't planning a giant margarita party.”
“We have to keep the guys cool in the tank. It's absolutely necessary. Cool and wet and supported.”
“Support. That's why you're going to keep the dolphins in those foam-lined slings?”
She nodded. “Dolphins' bodies are built for the buoyancy of water. When you take them out of the water, their own body weight presses down on vital organs and injures them. There's not going to be enough water