Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [81]
"Not even an extra toe. I'm disappointed."
He flopped down on one side, letting the sand trickle through his fingers. "It's cool," he said. "Moist. Does the tide cover the sand completely when it comes in?"
"Only with a storm."
"No chance of that today. Not a cloud in sight."
"A perfect day," she agreed, and for a moment they both watched the water lap against the protected beach in small, rippling currents. "It's amazing how fast it can change, though. One minute there's nothing but blue sky and the next minute it's totally black and threatening."
"You're remembering, aren't you?" he said after a moment, watching the play of emotions across her face. "Some day in particular?"
She didn't answer for a moment. "Yes."
"It's a bad memory. It makes you sad."
"How do you know that?" she asked, turning to look at him.
"The shadows in your eyes, the way your voice drops down a notch when you talk about the sea." He reached out and stroked the side of her cheek. "Your mouth draws into a grim line as if whatever you're going to say is so distasteful you can barely spit it out."
"You're very observant."
"That's how I make my living."
She caught his wrist and pulled his hand away from her face, but she didn't let go. Instead, she interlaced her fingers with his. "You have strong, capable hands. I like that about you."
"I'm glad there's something you like about me, but I think you're changing the subject. We were talking about storms."
She looked away from him at the water, at the horizon, at the past -- he wasn't quite sure what she was seeing. He just knew that her fingers had tightened around his.
"I was washed overboard during the storm," she said finally.
"You were?" He was shocked. "I never heard that. I don't remember reading anything about it."
"My father pulled me back in. There was no official rescue or anything."
"So no need for a report," he said slowly, his mind wrestling with the implications.
"I wasn't the first, the last, or the only person to go overboard during that race. It actually happened fairly frequently."
"I thought you wore safety harnesses."
"We did, but I had taken mine off for a minute. It was stupid," she continued rapidly. "A mistake. Anyway, it took me a long time to forget the feeling of water rushing over my head."
Tyler sensed there were still pieces of the story that were missing. But at least she was talking. "That must have been terrifying, Kate."
She tilted her head as she considered his words. "I was dazed at first. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming. It was an odd feeling. Was the boat underwater, or was I? Then I saw the boat drifting away from me. That's when the fear hit. The waves were so high it would completely disappear from my view. I tried to swim, but I got disoriented." She paused, drawing in a long breath and slowly letting it out. He could see the fear in her eyes and knew that her words had taken her back to that place. He was almost sorry he'd asked. "Then my dad managed to get a line out to me, and he pulled me in. He saved my life."
"Is that why you're still saving his?"
She met his gaze, and the truth passed between them. "I guess I am trying to do that. It might be a lost cause, though. I keep throwing lines to him, but he doesn't grab on to them. He doesn't want me to pull him in."
"Maybe he needs to rescue himself."
"Maybe." She drew in a breath and slowly let it out. "Well, this conversation has gotten heavy. How about some food?"
"If you let go of my hand, I might get you some. That is, once the blood starts flowing back to my fingers," he said, flexing his hand as she let go.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize. So, what's for lunch?"
"Everything you said. Fried chicken, potato salad, Brie, wine, and chocolate." He sat up, opened the basket, and began pulling out containers.
"Very good, but I don't think I said wine. I'm not a drinker.