At the Brink (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Lily

When I came back from the restroom, Josh was talking on his phone and pacing the veranda, firing instructions at someone, then listening, although not attentively. Shielding the speaker with one hand, he asked. “What took you so long?”

“I’m not Houdini,” I said. “I had to undo all of those knots you put in the bikini.”

“Christ, Lily, you should have told me. I could have picked something else for you to wear. Or, better yet, you could’ve stayed naked. Yes, Thomas,” he said into the phone. “I’m listening.” He paused. “The numbers look promising but I want to run some more projections.” Another pause. “I conferenced with them earlier today. I’m working on the letter of intent.”

He pointed at the coffee table. A glass of white wine stood next to a tray where layers of fruit were organized into a precise, alternating pattern. A block of cheddar had been cut into neat one inch squares.

“I made you a snack,” he mouthed. “Eat.”

The crisp Sauvignon Blanc quenched my thirst. The cheddar tasted sharp and delicious. I grinned. He’d made me a snack that included all the things I loved. It was sweet, even if it was done with such chilling precision. As he spewed commands into the phone, I grabbed a toothpick and played around with the fruit and the cheese.

“No, Thomas, I’m not flying back tonight,” Josh said.

That was news to me.

“I know the meeting is scheduled for tonight,” Josh said, “but you’re going to have to handle the Brazilians on your own.” Pause. “I know it’s important,” he said testily. “I’ll fly in tomorrow. Reschedule the meeting for first thing Monday.” Pause. “Because I’m busy,” he snapped. “Just do it. Okay?”

So Josh Lane was extending his stay on the island. By the reaction on the other side of the phone, it was a very big deal. A shiver of anticipation coursed through me. Or was it a shiver of terror? Another night with Josh Lane could destroy me. Or change me for good.

“Why did you do that?” Josh was off the phone and looming over me like a thunderhead.

“Do what?”

“That.” He gestured with his chin toward the tray, where I’d mixed all the fruit together and rearranged the remains of the cheese to form a happy face.

“Perhaps I’m trying to amuse Mr. Workaholic.” I speared a cheddar cube with a toothpick, dropped it into my mouth and swallowed it in one gulp. “Maybe I want to surprise Mr. Neat freak. Or I could just be trying to rile Mr. Obsessive-compulsive.”

“You already do all of that.” He swooped down and kissed me, a kiss so fierce it left my lips smarting. “You do it really well.”

His eyes’ intensity burned through me. Inevitably, I melted inside. Holy smokes. In his stare, I saw not just his desire but mine, like a preview of things to come.

“I’ll get your shoes,” he said.

“Shoes?”

“We’ve got to get out of here.” He strode to the stairs. “Otherwise, I’m going to fuck you again, and again, until you can’t walk anymore and I can’t function any longer. They’ll find our bodies with my cock buried in you and, even though you’ll be just skin and bones and I’ll be dead, I’ll still be trying to fuck you.”

He left me alone in the balcony, with the wicked visual burned into my mind, thinking—much to my shock—that if I had to die, dying with Josh Lane firmly entrenched in my sex wasn’t such a bad way to go.

He came back with my shoes and insisted on putting them on.

“Where are we going?” I said as he double-knotted my laces as if I were a toddler.

“We’re going to get dinner.”

He insisted on rubbing sunscreen all over my body. How we got through that, I’m not sure, considering that we were connected to each other by a violent physical attraction and a pervasive urge to copulate. We both had to make a huge effort not to end up naked again on the couch.

He handed me a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before we stopped by a cellar built into the hillside beneath the main house. It was filled with all kinds of sports equipment. From Jet Skis to windsurf boards, from scuba diving tanks to masks and flippers, anything anybody could wish for was neatly stored on custom shelves.

I checked out the paddle boats. “I saw one of these in a magazine once. It looked fun.”

“Not now.” He picked out a backpack and a couple of fishing rods from the selection on the wall. “We want to get there before sunset. You don’t mind a little walk, do you?”

Josh’s “little walk” was an hour-long hike up a goat trail zigzagging on a steep ridge at a brutal pace. I would have given him a piece of my mind if I’d been able to catch up with him. However, when we got to the top, the view was pretty spectacular. The ridge overlooked a luminous blue-green lagoon surrounded by knots of tangled mangroves.

“Best afternoon fishing in the area,” he said.

With my lungs still burning from the climb, I looked down and spotted a flat trail at the base of the hill, connecting the cove with the lagoon.

“Is that a trail down there?” I bent over my knees and gasped for air. “It looks a heck of a lot easier than this one. Why didn’t we go that way?”

“We went this way because it was harder,” Josh said, beginning his descent.

Ah. Pure Josh. Harder was always his first and only choice. That’s how he drove himself, with one challenge after the other. His life was about testing himself, physically, emotionally, at work and at play. He tested me now as surely as he tested himself with me.

When we arrived on the lagoon, Josh taught me how to string the hook and cast, but I spent more time disentangling my neglected line than fishing. Josh, on the other hand, caught an explosive, good sized red snapper, which he stored in his backpack’s insulated compartment.

“One more and we’ll be golden.” He reset his hook and cast off into a small opening deep among the mangrove roots. He was as relaxed as I’d ever seen him, engrossed in something he no doubt enjoyed. When I got thirsty, he had water in his pack. When I started to develop a headache from the sun’s glare, he handed me sunglasses and two ibuprofen he just happened to have on hand.

“Do you always think of everything?” I asked.

He gave me the oddest look. “I try.”

It was unexpected and nice, me sitting on the ground, making small talk, pretending I cared about my rod and he, adjusting his casts, pretending to listen.

“I’m curious,” I said. “How long did it take you to build the house at the cove?”

“A year, give or take.”

“And you lived here, all of that time, even though you didn’t have the house yet?”

“I camped out at first.” He reeled in his line and cast again. “Then I built my rack. After that, everything else was easy.”

“Easy?” I scoffed. “I doubt it. Didn’t you have to bring all the materials here?”

“I leased a barge and got organized,” he said. “It wasn’t too bad.”

“I have a feeling that your definition of ‘bad’ is grossly understated.”

“You’re probably right.”

I met his eyes. He met mine. We both burst out laughing at the same time. I loved it when he laughed like that and I relished this new, instant way of connecting with him that warmed my belly and satisfied something deeper in me.

“So,” I said, still savoring his smile. “When did you come here?”

“A while back.”

“Was it before or after you graduated from the Naval Academy?”

“After.”

“What was your major at the academy?”

“Engineering.”

“What was your favorite class?”

“You mean other than my ‘Honors Advanced Engineering Math’ seminar?” He had to think about that. “I liked my ancient history class.”

From math to ancient history. His interests were more complex and diverse than he led on.

“What did you do for the Navy?” I asked.

“Stuff,” he said cryptically.

“Did you come to the cove before or after you were done in the Navy?”

“After.”

“Was it before you went to work with Phoenix Prime?”

He flashed me a glance askance. “According to the Geneva convention, I only have to give you name, rank and service number.”

“Oh, come on, it’s just conversation.”

He shook his head. “Then why do I feel like I’m undergoing an interrogation?”

“I’m guessing you don’t like to talk about the past.”

“I don’t like boring, useless, unnecessary conversation.”

“It’s better than silence.”

“I like silence.”

“Well,” I said, exasperated. “You might use sex to connect, but I prefer conversation.”

His eyebrows rose. “You think I use sex to connect?”

“I do.”

“And you don’t like sex?”

“I didn’t say that,” I said. “I like sex fine.”

“Not sex with Martin you don’t.”

“Josh!”

“What about sex with me?”

I cocked a brow. “What do you think?”

He smirked. “You seem to be doing okay.”

“Is Mr. Lane looking for praise?”

“I just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page.”

“‘Cause if you were looking for praise, that would be fine, you know. Perhaps I could give it...at least a little.”

He smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

“I, on the other hand, need a bit of human interaction in between banging sessions, and since you’re the only other person on this side of the island, and coincidentally also the person banging me, I think you should humor me.”

“You think so, eh?” He reeled in his line. “I suppose I can give it a try. So go ahead. What would you like to talk about?”

“Did your father give you the money to build your island hideaway?”

He looked at me sharply. “Do you think I’m a spoiled brat? And why do you think my house is a hideaway?”

I shrugged. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

“I built this house with my own money,” he said. “I saved a lot when I was in the Navy and I had a lump sum there at the end.”

“Did you go to war in Iraq or Afghanistan?”

“Both.”

Wow. “What was it like there?”

“It was war,” he said, tugging on his line.

“Was it difficult?”

“Stop it, Lily,” he said. “You’re trying to bait me like I’m trying to bait these fish.”

“Bait you?” I frowned. “How?”

“If I tell you that I was happy working with my unit, you’ll think I’m some kind of warmonger.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, yes, you would,” he said. “But if I tell you that I hated my time over there, then you’ll think I’m looking for pity.”

“It was just a question.”

“For the record, I loved being in the Navy.”

“Why did you leave then?”

“My military career had run its course.”

“It seems a little strange that you walked away from something you loved doing,” I said, trying to fish for additional information. “I saw all those medals in that case in your office.”

“Lily, I think you should give up.”

“All right, if we can’t talk about your time in the Navy, can we talk about Phoenix Prime?”

“Why?”

I flashed him my widest smile. “Because you’re being magnanimous and making a huge effort at putting up with me?”

He snickered. “I’d much rather be fucking you.”

“Yes, I was also wondering why you weren’t doing that.”

“I want you to be able to walk straight,” he said. “I’m trying to be considerate.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Because you don’t think I can be considerate?”

“Because you told me the truth,” I said. “I appreciate your consideration, and really, all your efforts. I think it’s nice to be here with you, just talking. I find it relaxing.”

His lips pulled slightly to one side of his face in an expression that could pass for irritation, but was probably more like bafflement. He didn’t know how to deal with me when he wasn’t barking commands or when I wasn’t naked.

“Have you always been wealthy?” I asked.

“Me?” He laughed. “No, we were pretty tight financially when I was growing up. Even though Dad put in his papers as a major general, it took a lifetime for him to get there. Besides, he set aside a lot of money to fund Phoenix Prime when he was on active duty. Those first few years after he left the Marines were lean for us. The only reason I went to college was because I got accepted into the Naval Academy. Ask my mother and sisters.”

“You have sisters?”

“Two.”

“Do they have names?”

“Why would you want to know their names?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, playing with my fishing rod. “I guess I just wanted to know they weren’t numerical designations in your mind. And don’t worry. I don’t ever plan to meet them. I mean, what would I say to them? Hey, oh-three-two and oh-three-three, I’m your kinky brother’s sex toy, let’s talk about his favorite ‘accessories.’”

“That’s not funny, Lily.”

“I kind of think it is.” I giggled a little. “In a very perverted kind of way.”

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“What?”

“This sex toy thing.”

“I’m getting over it.” I tried dodging his stare. “Okay, I’m getting over it
slowly
.”

“Emma and Janice,” he said. “Those are my sister’s names. My mother is Evelyn.”

“And your father?”

“He’s The General.”

“Oh.” It was a little odd, to call your father
The General
, but to each his own. “Martin said that he founded the company, but it was you who grew it exponentially in only five years.”

“Let’s not talk about Martin.”

I was suddenly worried. “Has he done something wrong?”

“He somehow conned you into marrying him,” he said. “I don’t know how, but I’m sure he did. Besides, I don’t like the way your eyes darken when his name is mentioned.”

My eyes darkened when I spoke of Martin? Was it that obvious?

“I really can’t understand how you ended up with him,” he said.

“It’s complicated.”

“Explain it to me.”

“It’s none of your business.”

He whistled aloud. “Who’s the one who doesn’t want to talk anymore?”

“Look,” I said. “I made a mistake.”

“You must have been brain dead.”

“Josh!”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Okay, well, maybe, but you shouldn’t just say it like that.”

“Why not?”