Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope) (23 page)

As she straightened, she glanced around with interest. The lantern in the middle was unlit, but the glass prisms of the Fresnel lens shone like polished crystal. The windows, too, were perfectly clear, without a handprint or speck of dirt. Even the metal floor was scrubbed clean.

Outside, the foaming ocean waves crashed on one side and the sandy hills with beach grass covered the other. The long grass was dry and yellowing from the hot summer and was bent nearly to the ground by the wind.

“I’ve always loved being up in a lighthouse tower,” she said. “There aren’t too many other places quite as beautiful.”

He took in the landscape too, his features softening with satisfaction. Then he reached for a brass nautical spyglass on a tall table that sat next to the galley door. He lengthened the mechanism and peered through the glass at the narrowed end. He was quiet and intent for a moment before speaking. “They’re still there.”

He passed the spyglass to her, and she held it to her eye, pointing it in the same direction he’d looked just seconds ago. She held it steady, but all she saw were the daunting waves with their foamy caps.

“Here.” He moved behind her so that his chest touched her back. He reached around and put his hand over hers on the spyglass. His fingers were both strong and gentle, and he tilted her to the north.

“Do you see anything now?” His voice rumbled near her ear. For a second she was too distracted by his nearness to pay attention to what she was viewing on the other end of the spyglass. She could only think about the contours of his chest pushed against her, his arm brushing hers, and his breath tickling her neck.

She tried to focus again. “What am I looking for?”

He took the spyglass from her, looked into it for a minute, and then carefully, without moving his aim, lowered it to her eye.

She attempted to be just as careful and focused as best she could. After a few seconds she saw a whale burst from the water and splash down on its back into the waves. “Oh, my!” Before she could say anything else, another whale, this one slightly smaller, arched out of the water and twisted, with its long flippers extended, exposing its white underside.

“Incredible,” she whispered, awestruck.

“They’re humpbacks.” His voice was laced with awe too.

As she watched, one of the whales lifted its fluked tail out of the water and splashed it back down. “They’re beautiful.”

“Some say they’re being hunted to the brink of extinction,” he said.

She lost sight of the majestic creatures and handed the spyglass back. He didn’t move but relaxed against her, putting the spyglass to his eye and watching the distance.

“Did you know they only eat in the summer?” he asked.

She settled back into his hold. “How can they survive the winter?”

“They feed off their stores of fat.”

She couldn’t see the whales anymore but was content to rest in his arms and listen to him talk about the whales, their feeding habits, migration patterns, and the singing done by male whales and the fact that the songs could last for ten to twenty minutes.

“Have you ever heard them sing?” she asked.

“Plenty of times.”

“Then sing one of their songs for me.”

“No.”

“Oh, please.” She craned her head and smiled up at him. “I’m curious to know what a whale song sounds like.”

He took the spyglass away from his eye and cocked his brow. “Do I look like a whale?”

She pretended to study him. “Maybe a little.”

The corners of his mouth twitched with the beginning of a smile. “In what way?”

“You’re big and strong.”

His grin broke free. “I’m still not singing.”

“Please. Please. Please.” She twisted so that she was facing him.

“Never.”

“Then you’ll force me to take drastic measures.”

Again he lifted one of his brows, revealing the humor in his eyes. “I’d like to see what you think is drastic.”

She smiled. Then before he could stop her, she tickled his stomach. He didn’t budge. She tried his sides, but he stood unmoving, completely unaffected.

“You’re not ticklish?” she asked.

“Not in the least.”

“No fair.” She pretended to pout. But before she could complete the face, his hands came up to her waist and his fingers found the sensitive area there. She jumped with a gasp.

“I see that you are.” He tickled her again, his eyes alight with humor.

She couldn’t contain her laughter. As he tickled, she wiggled and shrieked. Finally, breathless, she called, “Stop! I surrender. I won’t ask you to sing the whale song.”

His hands slid away from her sensitive sides and wrapped around her back. “Promise?”

“For today.” She fell against him. “But I make no guarantees for the future.”

He grinned down at her, and she couldn’t keep from admiring the strong chiseled lines and the dark handsomeness of his features.

He languidly studied her face too, and as he did so, his mirth faded. He lifted a hand to her cheek, hesitated only a moment before grazing her skin and making her knees weak. For just an instant his eyes cleared, giving her a glimpse of his feelings for her—the intensity, the passion, and yes, even the love.

As the truth of how much he cared about her sank in, a tremble started in her stomach and rippled to her legs. It wasn’t a tremble of joy. It was one of fear—the same kind of fear she’d felt on her wedding day when she’d been walking out to the carriage and the reality of getting married to Nathaniel had become entirely too imminent.

She turned back to the window, praying that Tom wouldn’t see the fear that haunted her, the fear that she tried never to think about. She forced her mind away from it with practiced ease, pushing any unwelcome thoughts into a closet where they would be contained and chained and forgotten.

“Thanks for letting me see the world from up here.” She peered out the window again.

He didn’t move or say anything for a moment.

“The waves are so majestic and powerful,” she continued. “And the ocean is so endless.”

Still he was quiet.

“I don’t think I’d ever tire of this view.” She was rambling but she couldn’t stop.

He touched her side. Then she felt his body with all its warmth and solidness move behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into his chest. She breathed out the tightness in her lungs and relaxed against him. For a minute, they stood wordlessly watching the ocean, the waves rising and falling, and the dark clouds on the horizon blowing across the sky.

When he brushed a strand of hair back from her neck, she released another sigh, this one of contentment. She’d silenced her fears, and now she basked in the satisfaction of being in his arms. He drew the rest of her hair behind her ear so that her neck and ear were laid bare.

He dipped down, his chin brushing her cheekbone, the scruffy stubble a strange but pleasant sensation. His arms tightened around her, and he lowered his head until his lips skimmed her ear. The touch was feathery light, sending tingles across her skin.

She crossed her arms over his and tilted her head to the side. It was an invitation to linger.

Accepting her offer, his lips dropped to the hollow of her ear. He pressed a kissed there, his breath echoing loudly. It stirred her belly into a swirling whirlpool. After a long tantalizing moment, his lips moved to her earlobe and then grazed her neck.

At the contact, she almost cried aloud. Even though she managed to bite back most of the cry, a small squeak slipped out.

The heat of his ragged breath and the moisture of his lips moved to the arch between her neck and shoulder. This time she couldn’t hold back a gasp. Her small noises only seemed to inflame him. He released a soft moan before turning her and taking possession of her mouth. His lips settled over hers with the fervor she’d been dreaming about since his last kiss.

If she was honest with herself, she’d waited for this moment all week. She’d longed to be connected with him again in this way, to feel his passion, to know that she stirred him the same way he did her.

His kiss deepened, and she arched upward. His hands at her waist splayed as though he wanted all of her. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, had only heard whispers from her friends, especially from Theresa, who had always been bolder than others.

Victoria’s body seemed to turn to fire wherever he touched. And as his kiss raged, she didn’t care if she was consumed. She wanted to go wherever the kiss meant to lead. And she could sense he wanted that too.

“I’m coming up!” James called from the stairwell.

Tom broke away and released her.

“Make sure you’re decent,” James called again, his voice echoing in the hollow passageway and clearly full of humor.

Tom ran one hand across his mouth and jaw and with the other tucked in his shirt, which had somehow come loose.

Had she pulled it out?

Her face burned at the thought, but she quickly wiped at her own face and hair and bodice, her fingers shaking too much to bring about any semblance of order.

“You ready?” James voice came from the landing just below the hatch.

Tom cleared his throat. “All set.”

The ping of boots against the ladder was followed by James’s head popping through the hatch. At the sight of them, he paused. His grin was wide and his eyes sparkled. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

Tom’s face was a shade darker than usual, and he combed his fingers through his hair. “We were just about done.”

“I don’t know about that, son.” James chuckled. “From what I could see, it looked like you were just getting started.”

Mortification washed over Victoria. Had James witnessed their moment of passion? She glanced back in the direction of the house and realized that if he’d been walking from the house to the tower, he would have had a clear view of the tower room. He would have seen them kissing like there was no tomorrow.

The muscles in Tom’s jaw worked up and down, as if he too realized all his dad had witnessed.

James climbed the rest of the way up. Even though his eyes were warm with affection in addition to his humor, Victoria avoided his gaze. “Your mom told me not to disturb you. I tried to hold off as long as I could, but the storm is gaining momentum.” He cocked his head to the window.

Sure enough, the dark clouds were drawing closer. They were heaped upon the horizon and stretching tall, exposing their angry underbellies. Lightning flashed deep within and seemed to incite the waves to join in the tumult.

“I wanted to let you finish,” James said. “Your mom and I have lots of happy memories of our times together in lighthouse towers—”

“Dad.” Tom cut James off with a pointed, slightly tortured look.

James laughed heartily before checking the wind direction and turning to adjust the vents. While his back was turned, Tom reached for her hand, his eyes radiating apology. Was he sorry for kissing her? Or sorry about his dad’s interruption?

She hoped it was the later and smiled at him in reassurance. She squeezed his hand, hoping to send him the message that she wasn’t in the least sorry for this, any more than she was for the last time they kissed.

“I need to get the lantern lit before it gets too dark,” James said as he worked. “It’s just a precaution.”

“I’ll help you,” Tom offered.

“I’ll be fine. You go finish your business with your wife somewhere else.”

Even though James’s bluntness was becoming more familiar, Victoria still heated at his insinuation. Tom shook his head, but a surge of wind rattled the tower windows with such force that the metal tube attached to the glass chimney of the lantern popped away from the wall and slammed against the window with such force that Victoria expected the glass to crack. Wind roared through the vent opening, and both Tom and James lunged to grab the dangling tube before it could do damage. For a moment they struggled to lift and position it back in place against the incoming gust.

As they worked and shouted instructions to each other, she realized her moment with Tom was over, especially when the wind broke the vent off again. This time it almost knocked into Tom.

“Go back to the house,” he called to her. “It isn’t safe up here now.”

She nodded as the wind roared into the small room, swirling her skirt and hair and making conversation virtually impossible. She descended, and on her walk back to the house, she fought the swelling gusts and blowing sand.

All the while, she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. How far would the kiss have led this time if James hadn’t interrupted? Tom wanted to take things slowly. Wanted to focus on their friendship first. Wanted to take the rest of their month at Race Point to test their relationship. She wasn’t helping matters by throwing herself in his arms every time she saw him.

She had the feeling that once again, he would be frustrated at himself for failing to keep the boundaries he’d established. He would beat himself up and perhaps even pull away from her. Surely she could be more careful and help him preserve his sense of integrity.

“Zelma?” she called once she’d entered and shaken the sand from her skirt.

“I’m still in here, dear.” The sweet voice came from the art room.

“Can I get you anything?” Victoria asked as she made her way to the little room at the rear of the house.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Zelma said. “James lit a lantern before he left.”

Victoria stepped into the cozy room, the walls of which were covered in paintings from floor to ceiling. Zelma still sat in her chair in front of her easel with the lantern buzzing on the pedestal beside her. She had a blanket draped over her lap and a fresh cup of tea and biscuit.

“James is so sweet,” Victoria said, thinking of all the ways he doted on Zelma.

“He’s a very good man.” Zelma concentrated on the canvas in front of her. “And Tom takes after him.”

Yes, Tom was a good man. Victoria smiled thinking about his desire to show her the humpback whales and the fun that they’d had.

“I take it you had a lovely time?” Zelma dragged her attention away from the canvas to glance at Victoria with the kind of look that made Victoria pluck at the edge of her sleeve with renewed embarrassment. Zelma knew exactly what they’d been doing in the tower.