Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (69 page)

"I'll just take these inside. Alec gave me instructions on where everything goes." He looked me up and down. "You shouldn't go hungry."

I couldn't tell if that was supposed to be an insult or a compliment. Did that mean I ate like a bird or a pig? Or simply that his buddy had sent enough food for the original reservation of two?

As Eli unlocked the door and let me in, we were greeted with a cool blast from the air conditioning. The house was gently perfumed with the smell of luxury. You know that smell—quality
everything
.

It was only five fifteen in the afternoon, but dusk was fast approaching and the growing dark clouds increasingly filtered the daylight. Eli flipped a light on. It was summer in Seattle and the days were long. We would have at least four more hours of daylight left. But it was winter here and closer to the equator. The days were always about the same length. I hadn't really counted on twelve hours of darkness to deal with by myself.

"Go ahead and look around." He set a cooler on the counter by the fridge and a basket on the center island counter.

Everything in the kitchen gleamed beneath the overhead light, beautifully modern and designed to catch the light.

"I'll give you the official tour when I'm done." He looked nervously out the window at the brewing storm. "Then I'm out of here."

In the choppy water with the wind resisting us, the trip had taken longer than he expected. And used more gas.

I sensed his worry and was concerned, too, as I looked out over the rolling waves. Could the house withstand a strong storm? But going back out in those increasingly raging waters were more frightening to me than staying put. "Is it safe for you to boat back in the dark? The seas look stormy—"

"I'll be fine." He hurriedly crammed things into the fridge.

I came up next to him and pulled a carton of milk from his hand, setting it on the counter. "Leave everything here. I'll unpack things later."

"All right." He looked relieved. "Let me show you around. The house is powered by a generator and solar panels. No need to worry about losing power."

Just then a mega gust of wind slammed into the house with the leading edge of the storm. The house shook from the force of it. I jumped, hand to heart, staring out at the deck as a wave crashed spectacularly over it.

Eli's jaw set.

I recognized that foolhardy look of determination. "You can't leave me here. Alone."

A
bolt
of lightning ran jagged across the sky. I began counting. The thunder crashed when I hit ten. Two miles away.

Eli stared at me. "Are you asking me to stay?"

I nodded, appealing to his hero side to save
him
more than me. I was self-reliant, but out of my element. Which made playing the damsel in distress card not quite as repellent as it might have been. Maybe I
did
want him to stay.

"I think I am. You'd be crazy to go out in that storm in the small boat. You can't." I pointed, shuddering as I did. "You wouldn't leave me all alone in this storm to go on a fool's mission, would you?"

Another clap of thunder. This time closer. Another wave washing across the deck. Without thinking, I stepped closer to him, catching another whiff of the Hott cologne his company was famous for. And now I knew why they called it that. It blended perfectly with his body chemistry and made me think
hero
.

"I have a date on the mainland." He glanced out the window at the swelling waves now pushing regularly over the deck.

"Is she worth your life? Postpone it." I took another step into him. "I'm sure she'll understand. Better to have you alive to date another time than to be permanently stood up by your untimely death. No girl wants death on her conscience. Text her."

Lightning lit the room. The thunder reverberated like it was hellbent on bringing the house down. My hair grew staticky, nearly standing on end. Not a good sign. The lightning was too close for comfort.

"Shit. You're right." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text. "We have to batten down the hatches and shutter this place." He looked around, taking quick stock of the situation.

"I take it this means you're staying," I said, resisting the urge to pat him on the head with a "smart man" comment. "What can I do to help? Tell me what to do?"

The house shook with each blast of wind. My heart raced, egged on by panic and the thought that I really needed a hero about now. And possibly the ability to breathe underwater. Being a real mermaid might come in handy if the waves grew much larger.

"The house is equipped with motorized hurricane shutters. I'll set the switch and get them started. The house is designed to withstand storm surges and waves." He pointed toward the coolers. "We have plenty of bottled water. Just in case. Get the groceries in the fridge. There's an emergency kit in one of the closets. I'll grab it, too."

I must have paled.

He flashed me a sympathetic look. "This house withstood a Category 4 storm just last year. We'll be fine."

But what about a Category 5?

I nodded and started unpacking, keenly aware of him securing the house. He went into the boathouse and closed the door. Activated the motorized shutters. Grabbed the emergency kit as the lightning flashed around us, lighting the house through the dense shutters.

"We're sitting on the water." My teeth were chattering. It had to be from fear because it wasn't from cold. "Water is a conductor—"

"The place is insulated. It's like a Faraday cage, anyway. As long as you don't go for a swim…" He frowned and grabbed a throw blanket, putting it over my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I don't like lightning. Never have. Well, not since I was nearly struck as a kid." I pulled the blanket tight. Maybe I was cold. With fear.

"Neither do I." He actually looked sympathetic. All that boat-bonding kicking in?

By the time we finished securing the house, it was after six. The sun had set. Darkness had fallen. Eli set electric lanterns from the emergency kit around and was reading up on the instructions for the generator. In case it failed. Or we had to use it as a flotation device. Just kidding about that. It didn't float, obviously.

Wind beat at the house. Lightning cracked at regular intervals. And the sound of waves pummeling the house was unnerving.

And yet, surprisingly, I was hungry. I realized with a start that I hadn't eaten all day. The electricity was on. My meals were neatly packed in catering type foil containers marked with heating instructions. I put dinner in the oven and set the table. Might as well live while I was still alive.

"Should I ration the food?" I joked. "Now that there are two of us?"

Eli looked up from his generator study and smiled. I hated to admit it, but his presence
was
reassuring.

I grabbed two wine goblets, opened a bottle of white, and poured us each a glass. I handed him one. "I'm glad you stayed."

"For yourself. Or for my wellbeing?" He took the wine from me and made a wry look. "We don't have anything stronger?"

"We might. But I'm counting on you to man the life raft. Until I see how you hold your liquor, I'm being cautious." I took a long drink of my wine. My hands were still shaking. "We do have a life raft?"

"Darling, we have a boat," he said in a deep, joking voice.

But of course! We did have a boat.

"There's not a chance in hell I want to take a boat ride in that water. Let's hope the house can float." I took a deep breath and another drink of wine.

Another gale-force gust banged against the house until the frame shuddered again. "The damn house is as shaky as I am."

Eli flashed me a concerned look.

I lifted my glass. "Alcohol helps."

The timer on the oven went off. We ate mostly in silence punctuated by odd, awkward attempts at nervous conversation. The food was delicious. The company could have been equally delectable under different circumstances. Like sunny weather.

"I hope your date wasn't
too
upset that you had to cancel."

He shrugged. "It was a first date. My buddy set us up. It's hard to argue with being detained by a hurricane." He glanced up at me with a teasing look that reminded me of the first time we met.

I smiled, remembering how fun he was when he was bar guy. "As far as excuses go, it doesn't sound a bit like the dog ate my homework?" I finished my fourth glass of wine. I was feeling buzzed and bold.

"It's hard to argue with facts. The storm has hit the main islands, too," he said.

I told myself to stop drinking. I might have to swim for my life soon. And I could be a bitchy drunk. "I imagine you left out the part about being marooned in a luxury cabin with a beautiful woman." If he wasn't going to sing my praises, I was just going to have to joke about them myself.

He smiled for the first time, really, since I'd met him. "I may have left that part out."

We fell into silence again.

I couldn't stand it. Why were things so strained and difficult between us? "Are you sure you don't want to talk about business?"

"No."

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh, come on! You're no fun. It has to be better than listening to the wind howl."

"Need I reiterate? I'm on vacation—"

"And you have a strict no-business policy," I finished for him. "What kind of an entrepreneur are you? Why don't you think about business constantly, like the rest of your peers?"

"Because I'm the kind who likes to enjoy life from time to time."

"You have an odd sense of what's enjoyable," I said. "Remind me to invite you to the next natural disaster I host. I can pretty much guarantee you'll be the only one to RSVP yes."

He almost laughed. But not quite. He was a hard nut to crack up.

"This is all my fault." I sighed.

He arched an eyebrow. "You control the weather? I want a piece of that action."

I laughed. I thought I could have liked him. I thought I did once. For an evening, anyway. "I've been dreaming of having you as a captive audience for weeks."

He nodded. "I see."

"But the dream's no fun if I can't talk business."

He shook his head. "Remind me to invite you to my next business meeting. You'll be the life of the party."

I raised my glass to him. "To low blows."

We finished dinner and cleaned up the dishes while the storm built and I kept hoping its crescendo was in sight. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but Eli seemed to grow tenser and tenser. And quieter and quieter. He set his jaw and put on a game face. He studied the ceiling and the way the walls shook. I finally realized he was
too
quiet.

Something thumped against the house, reverberating with the force of an explosion. We jumped. I screamed.

"Shit!" He grabbed my hand with one hand and the basket of food sitting on the counter with the other. "I should have thought of this sooner. We need to go below." He pulled me toward the stairs.

I stumbled, but not because I was drunk. However, I
laughed
because I was drunk. This definitely wasn't funny.

He pulled me onto the stairs to the below-sea level, flipped on the lights, and shoved the food basket into my arms. I watched as he struggled to pull closed a huge metal door at the top of the stairs. He reached up to check something.

"What are you doing?" I almost laughed again. Suddenly everything was scarily funny.

"Checking the seal." He was dead serious. "This door is air- and watertight. If the upper floors blow off, we'll be safe down here."

"Until the oxygen's depleted," I said as he checked vents to make sure they were sealed, too. This was definitely not the vacation I'd imagined.

"There are emergency tanks. We shouldn't need them as long as the generator keeps working."

He took my hand again and led me downstairs into one of the most spectacular and unique rooms I'd ever seen. The entire lower floor of the house was one sumptuous master suite with an adjoining bathroom. It was all completely underwater, and truly, like being in a reverse aquarium—one filled with air and surrounded by water. The joke was on us. We were the pets now.

One wall was floor-to-ceiling domed glass that blended into the ceiling in a kind of alcove. A platform bed was tucked beneath it, facing the glass and the ocean outside, braced against a pillowed wall that doubled as a headboard. The bed was covered with snowy sheets and blankets and the thickest, plushest mattress pad I'd ever seen. Nightstands with modern design lamps flanked it. The floors were polished bamboo, strewn with thick carpets. There was a spa tub in one corner. A curved big-screen TV was mounted on another half wall off to the side of the bed, with two chairs for viewing either TV or ocean.

It was the kind of fantasy room made for love.

Beneath the sea, it was almost eerily quiet, the sounds of the storm cut off by the sealed door. But the ocean was dark and roiling. Angry and agitated.

I set the basket of food on a dresser and walked to the alcove, pressing my hands against the glass, expecting it to be cold. "It's warm." Maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised.

"The water's nearly eighty degrees year-round here."

The water in Puget Sound was more like forty-five on a warm day.

I peered into the deep. The dark water was stirred up and full of shadows of debris. The one thing I didn't see were…

"There are no fish." I frowned. "Where are all the fish?"

Eli came up next to me, staring into the water with me with a look of concentration on his face.

"What?" I said. "What? Is that bad? Are they hiding?"

He frowned. "The water's too dark and murky to see them. Let's watch a movie."

"A movie?" I wasn't really in the mood. But what else was there to do? Maybe it
would
take our minds off the danger we were in. Though it was doubtful. If only I'd thought to bring popcorn.

"Something like
The Perfect Storm
or
Life of Pi
should be cheery," I said. "
The Finest Hours
? Possibly
Into the Storm
or
Twister
, but those are a little landlocked for my tastes, though they go nicely with the storm theme we have going around us."

"At least you have a sense of humor," he said.

"What do you mean,
at least
?" I kicked off my shoes and plopped onto my stomach sideways on the bed to get a good view of the TV, glad to be able to finally collapse. The long day of travel and excitement was taking its toll. I made myself comfortable, thinking he would take one of the chairs.

Instead, he grabbed two bottles of beer from the bar by the spa tub, and the TV controller, and plopped down next to me. He opened a beer, handed it to me, and began flipping through movie selections. The room was cool with the air conditioning going full strength.

I was wearing only a thin cotton sundress. I shivered, resisting the temptation of his body heat next to me. As if my awareness of him wasn't extreme before, it was heightened now. His presence was oddly comforting and the chemistry between us undeniable. Not that his strong arms could save me if this wall of glass shattered. But at least I wouldn't die alone.

I let him choose the movie. He picked a benign sports film about some guy overcoming all odds to win a championship. I sensed a survivor, beat-the-odds thing going on. If he was trying to encourage me, he was failing. But the beer was a nice touch. I drank it, even though I didn't need more alcohol. It settled pleasantly over me, calming my ragged nerves.

As the movie wore on, we sank into the plushness of the bed, sagging closer and closer to each other until our shoulders touched. He watched the movie with rapt attention. Though I didn't find it that thrilling or engaging, I liked being next to him. Way too much.

Halfway through the movie, something thumped against the window with a bang that made me jump. I screamed and covered my eyes, ready to take my last breath. How long could I hold my breath? Where were those oxygen tanks?

Eli jumped up and ran to the window. He let loose a string of curses. "Fuck." He smacked the window with his palms. "Fucking storm."

I opened my eyes to find him staring at the shadow of a large sea creature pressed against the glass.

"It's a manatee." His voice shook. "A
pregnant
manatee. She's dead." He rested his head against the glass.

I set my empty beer bottle on the floor in front of me, switched the TV off, and went to him. I came up behind him and hugged him, leaning my head against his back. It was a bold move, but he looked so sad and upset about the manatee. "Sorry. It's sad."