Message From Viola Mari (14 page)

“So you’re like a scientist and the grim reaper rolled into one,” said John.

“I certainly hope not,” I answered. “Studying the earth’s history may help us ward off disaster.”
If I told them the truth and they believed me, the world could turn to chaos in no time.

“Can I get another drink?” Mary held up her glass.

Raoul refilled her glass and made eye contact with John. What’s up with that, I thought, before another long swallow of spiked pineapple juice made me forget my concern. Minutes later, John said he needed to use the restroom and Raoul walked across the deck, moving empty tanks below deck before disappearing from sight.

As the sun descended, I smelled the aroma of simmering fish. Michael’s call of “come and get it” sent us rushing into the galley where we were rewarded with generous portions of lightly breaded filets of conch and tuna. Our plates were nearly scraped clean by the time Raoul and John rejoined us. Hardly anyone said a word during the meal. The day in the water had made us too ravenous to expend energy on anything except eating.

Chapter Fifteen

After another blissful day of diving, I sipped a glass of Chardonnay while the
Henrietta
bobbed over Belizean waves. Justin sat beside me, his golden curls ignited orange by the setting sun. Once the sun disappeared in a flash of neon green, only a faint glow marked the horizon, below which coal waves danced a tango. If I touched the ocean, my skin would have melted into it. Instead, I touched his arm and his flesh became a continuation of mine. The wine, the sea, and Justin illuminated my senses until my senses became me.

“This trip was such a great idea,” I said. “I’m enjoying your company so much.” Destined for our cabin, we strolled hand in hand across the deck and down the stairs. Justin turned to face me as he opened the cabin door and we stepped inside. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, love.” He brushed his lips over my cheek and lips until butterfly tingles fluttered over my skin. “The week started off rather tenuous, though. That whole out-of-air incident made me wonder if we should have stayed on the mainland.”

“Lucky for her, you were there to save her. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll play the victim, then you can drape me over that gorgeous body of yours and carry me safely to the surface.” I mock collapsed on his shoulder and then placed my hands affectionately on his shoulders.

“I might need to be rescued after another day looking at your gorgeous body underwater. Your butt twenty percent magnified is almost more than I can take. I could pass out any time.” He arched a brow and zeroed his gaze in on my breasts, which were abundantly revealed in my low-cut string bikini. “And looking at those…” He slid his hands under the suit and placed his hands on my breasts. “Is enough to give me cardiac arrest. Just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water.” He hummed the Jaws theme while continuing to massage my breasts.

“Very funny.” I laughed, tilting my head toward his until our foreheads met. “I know you only love me for my body. And because I have this way of finding the best underwater sites to explore.”

“Well I’ll admit the underwater scenery was fascinating, but it’s the scenery in front of me that I’m really excited about.”

Justin reached over and plucked the glass from my fingers. “We can get back to the Chardonnay later.” He set my glass down with a gentle
clink
onto the nightstand where I’d placed my journal earlier. But it wasn’t there.
What could have happened to it?
He reached around the back of my neck to untie my bikini top and then kneeled to untie my bottoms. “This is the wine I’d like to taste now,” he said. He licked his lips and gazed hungrily between my legs. My slit ached for his probing tongue. Slippery wetness surged between my thighs. I must have slid the journal into the drawer without remembering, I thought, through my haze of lust.

His hands slid down my belly and between my thighs. His fingers probed in and out of me, making me drip with wanting and then the smirk that crossed his face told me he knew the intensity of my need for him. “Sit in that chair and spread your legs,” Justin commanded.

He couldn’t wait for me sit. He gripped my arms roughly and pushed me into the chair before I had a chance to get there myself. He licked his lips and his gaze roamed over my body so seductively, I knew in his mind, he was already penetrating me. “I want you to be my sexual slave tonight.” He unfastened the golden loops from my ears with surgical precision before kissing my inner thighs and then swirling his tongue all around them. He pushed my legs wider apart. My pussy pulsed with aching need. I couldn’t get enough of him. Then he buried his face inside of me, licking the perimeter of my slit before focusing in on my clitoris. His blond curls tickled my hips and thighs, making me giggle. As he plunged two fingers in and out of my dripping wetness, licking me at the same time, waves of pleasure overtook me and I cried out in pleasure, clinging to him as if to permanently capture this dream man that brought me so much hedonistic bliss.

Moisture drizzled from between my thighs as I lay against Justin’s chest after another round of lovemaking. He wound his fingertips through my hair and whispered, “I love you, Marissa.” I loved him too. Even more than hearing my name on his lips, which came in a close second. He drew out the two
esses
in a poetic way, like my name still lingered on his lips even after he finished speaking. He paused only briefly before he said another word. “Forever.” He pulled me tightly into his chest until I heard his heart beating. I should have said
I love you too
. Instead, feeling safer than ever before, I pressed my face deeper into his chest. He lay asleep beside me, his fingertips entangled in my hair. It was so comforting to be held by the arms of the man I loved, embraced by his smell of the ocean mingled with sweat and pure masculinity. I drew in a last scent of ocean mingled with Justin and his cinnamon aftershave before I drifted into blissful sleep.

In my dream, a locomotive slammed into my car, a man spoke urgently in Spanish and a familiar voice moaned, “Marissa.” All at once, I realized I wasn’t dreaming. Something was terribly wrong. Blood warmed my forehead and water swirled around me. I’m in Belize with Justin, I remembered. The waxing crescent moon illuminated my surroundings through a gash in our outside wall. Our cabin plunged at a precarious angle. Justin and I slid down the bed toward the water.
We’re sinking.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” I screamed.

“My leg,” said Justin weakly. “You go on. Those men…they’ll hurt you.” I could have climbed on top of the mattress to reach a perch above the desperate grasp of the water. But I refused to let go of his hand. Instead, I gripped it tighter than ever. “No, I won’t let you go,” I shouted. “Not now, not ever.” I smelled smoke and glowing flames illuminated the room.

“Oh no, Marissa.” His eyes mirrored the terror I felt at the thought of losing him. The rushing water sucked us under. My scream of terror was muffled by watery obscurity. A powerful surge of water pulled our hands apart. Through the dark water, I still saw his eyes. They flashed from green to amber and then flickered like a dying flame until I could no longer see them.
Oh no, please don’t leave me
. For an instant, I saw a pale, greenish glow and then my world turned black like the night.

Chapter Sixteen

I awoke coughing on saltwater. I lifted my head, struggling to breathe. Waves tossed me against the sand and crashed over me repeatedly. Gasping for breath, I tried to move my legs and arms to escape the influx of waves. The surf tumbled and rolled my body over and over on the sand, scratching my skin, exposing raw flesh. My muscles twitched in agony as each successive wave crashed over me. As I crawled on my elbows through the sand, the effort made me cry out until I dropped my chin back into the sand. My body felt as broken and battered as my mind, which reeled from the possibility that Justin might be dead. He’d been injured when we were pulled apart. I wanted to brush my fingertips over his skin, to breathe in his fresh aftershave scent, to kiss every contour of his beloved face.

“Please don’t leave me here alone!” I croaked.

Only the pounding surf responded.
Crippled by crushing pain, I felt as if every bone in my body had been broken, every tendon and muscle torn. I groaned like a bound prisoner as I struggled to roll myself across the sand. My mind finally rescued me from the pain, plunging me back into unconscious night.

The sound of voices roused me back into consciousness. The low tide had left me sprawled out in the sand like a beached seal. As a deep male voice called to me, I lifted my head and struggled to focus on the group of approaching figures whose darkly clad bodies wobbled through waves of heat that rose from the sand.

“Justin, is that you?” I clawed my way through the sand and tried to stand, but couldn’t. I crumpled into a heap. Men clad in olive uniforms and officer’s caps rushed toward me, offering me a stretcher instead of the man I desperately wanted to see. There were no familiar eyes to adore me or lips to kiss away the suffering that chewed at my insides. I beat my fists against the sand and against their arms as they lifted me from the ground. I tasted salt in my mouth, not knowing whether it was from the ocean or my tears.

A man who introduced himself as Alex Castillo leaned over and spoke to me. They were officers from the Belize military, he said, before explaining that they’d been notified of a missing watercraft after the dive company headquarters had been unable to contact the boat’s captain. Castillo asked me if I had been aboard the
Henrietta
. I nodded. When I inquired about Justin, he cast his eyes downward.

“So far, you are the first person we’ve rescued. But we’re remaining optimistic. We just started the search an hour ago,” said Alex. His dark eyes welled over with sincerity and I couldn’t bring myself to say what I feared most—that I’d never see Justin alive again.

My vocal cords felt like vibrating sandpaper when I pleaded with them to search for Justin. Alex told me to relax. Another man pressed a cup of electrolyte drink against my lips, but I shook my head. Instead, I pointed toward the open ocean and spewed out a description of Justin. Chunks of debris and a slick black cloud of oil floated in the water. A wave lifted a broken mask and a striped chunk of fiberglass. A battered and torn mattress rose and fell over a series of swells. I wondered if it had been our mattress, the one where we’d made love and held each other close.

While three of the men continued to walk the beach, Alex and his companion, Carlos, carried me aboard their boat and laid me on a cabin bed. “Since you’re not taking liquids by mouth, we’re going to need to insert an IV to get fluids into you,” Alex said. He grasped a syringe with rough muscular fingers before I could protest and I looked away when he plunged the needle into my vein.

I vowed not to sleep until they found Justin but my eyelids grew heavy and I found myself drifting in and out of sleep, in and out of remembering.

Chapter Seventeen

As Alex raised my head and pushed a pillow under my head, I jerked up onto my elbows.

“Did you find him yet?”

“We’re still looking.”

“Did you find a journal in the wreckage? I lost a notebook which contained highly confidential information.”

The last time I’d seen the notebook had been the previous morning. I’d been sprawled out on the bed sketching when Justin plopped down beside me. His blond curls had dripped with cool water from his recent shower, his skin smelled of soap and masculinity. As he pulled me roughly against his chest and engulfed my lips in a seductive kiss, I dropped the notebook and melted into his arms.

“We didn’t find an entire notebook but we found pages torn from one,” said Alex.

Tears threatened to burst from my eyes as I imagined the comfort of Justin’s embrace—the press of his muscular pectorals, the tickle of his wiry chest hairs against my cheek.
Why didn’t I tell him I loved him?
When I failed to respond, Alex asked, “Ma’am, are you alright?”

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

After repeating himself he asked Carlos to show me the pages they’d found.

The man nodded and stepped from the room.

“Your husband is missing and you’re worried about a notebook?” Alex frowned. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Not really,” I said.
What can I say? That a comet shower is going to bombard the earth and blast us all to smithereens.
“I’m not trying to be difficult, but this situation is really complicated. Justin matters much more to me than the notebook. But I’m involved in a scientific research project at the Scripps Institute of Oceanography and those notes contained highly confidential information.”

“I see. So you work for the CIA or the FBI something. Well, we don’t want any trouble from them. We’ll merely scan the pages for evidence we need for our investigation and then release them to you before you return to the States. Does that sound reasonable?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” I answered. “But I don’t work for the FBI.”

“I would release those papers to you now, except we found some evidence of foul play,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I recalled the two suspicious men I’d seen on the plane and how John and Raoul had disappeared after I’d mentioned my research.
Was it all just a coincidence?

Carlos stepped back into the room and closed the door behind him, holding a piece of paper in a gloved hand.

“Can you tell her what you’ve learned so far?” asked Alex.

“Someone intentionally blew up the boat and we found bloody fingerprints.”

“Have you identified them?” I asked.

“We have,” he answered. “They belong to one Justin Lincoln.”

“Oh no,” I whispered. “He seemed injured when I awoke during the crash. I wanted him to climb up the mattress with me so we could escape the water, but he couldn’t. But he warned me about some men, which seemed strange. We were together all night.”

“Unfortunately, the evidence contradicts that. The fingerprints we found appear to be outside your cabin. Are you sure he didn’t step out for a nightcap?”