Falling For A Stranger Page 2

  "I'm not looking for trouble."

  "There's a light in your eyes that says that's exactly what you're looking for."

  She caught her breath, thinking he might actually be right about that.

  Drew tipped his head and walked away.

  She watched him all the way to the exit. When the door closed behind him, she let out a breath, wondering how she could possibly already miss him.

  He was just another guy—only he wasn't, and she couldn't put her finger on why.

  Maybe it was the seriousness that lurked just behind his smile. He wasn't like most of the guys who hit on her. Those she could handle. She knew they'd move on to the next woman before she could finish saying no. But Drew had left. He'd thrown down his invitation and walked out the door.

  He was going to wait for her. He was pretty confident she'd show up, but he was going to be waiting a long time.

  She turned her focus back on work. For the next hour, she served drinks, picked up empty glasses, and watched the minutes tick off the clock. Shortly before closing Drew's friend left with two women flanking him on either side. Apparently, he wasn't going to be alone tonight.

  At two a.m., she wiped down the bar and closed out the register. She said goodnight to Martin and walked outside, the scent of flowers and sea all around her. She paused for a moment and drew in a deep breath of sweet and salty air. The heat of the night echoed the passionate need burning through her body, a need that had been lit by the sexy smile of a stranger.

  She lived in a furnished rental three blocks away from the resort. The cottage where Drew was staying was only a hundred yards away.

  Indecision made her hesitate for a long minute. She hadn't been lying when she told Drew she wasn't into hookups, but tonight she was feeling restless and reckless. She wasn't going to sleep anyway. She was too worried about the morning, and the reality of what she was about to do.

  In six hours she could be dead.

  She wasn't being a pessimist, just a realist.

  Maybe she should spend those hours doing something that would make her happy, something that she never ever did. It had been a very long time since she'd thought of anything but the plan, the goal. Nothing else mattered but fulfilling the promise she'd made to her sister. But tonight, Drew had reminded her that she was a woman, and she was lonely and scared, defiant and determined—all at the same time.

  It was the worst possible time to get involved with anyone.

  On the other hand…

  She pulled the band out of her hair and let the long waves flow loosely around her shoulders. Then she walked down the path to the cottages, her nerves tingling and tightening with each step.

  She knocked on his door, turned the knob and stepped inside. The cottage was one big room, a small sitting area and a king-sized bed.

  Drew sat on the couch. He was reading a book when she walked in. It looked like some sort of mystery novel. It was silly, but the sight of that book pushed her over the edge. She'd always found intelligence to be a turn-on, and this man was smart, maybe too smart. He'd read her pretty accurately so far.

  But in a lot of ways, she liked his honesty. He hadn't set the scene with candles. There was no wine or champagne chilling. He wasn't trying to seduce her. He was just waiting…

  After a moment he set the book down and stood up, his gaze meeting hers. Then slowly he walked over to her. He made no move to touch her or kiss her. He simply looked at her with his shadowy dark eyes, and she felt an incredible pull. All her nerve endings tingled. There was electricity between them—a dark, dangerous attraction.

  "I'm glad you came, Ria. Why did you?"

  Such a simple question—such a complicated answer. She settled for the basic truth. "I want you."

  The fire in his eyes flared. He put his hands on her waist. "I know the feeling."

  "For tonight," she added. "That's all I can give you. I need you to know exactly where I stand."

  "All I care about is that you're standing here in front of me. You're beautiful, Ria. And I want you, too."

  Her stomach clenched at the desire in his gaze. And then he was done looking. He pulled her in for a kiss.

  He tasted as intoxicating as the vodka she'd served him, and he kissed like a man who hadn't had a woman in a long time. She met his demanding mouth with the same sense of urgency and need.

  A part of her called for caution, but she couldn't listen to that voice anymore. For a few hours she was going to just be a woman, the woman she used to be, the woman she hoped to be again some day.

  They knew nothing about each other, and yet there was a connection between them that went far deeper than the touch of their mouths. Something inside of her recognized something inside of him. What that was, she had no idea.

  But she didn’t want to analyze or worry. That's all she'd been doing for months. She just wanted to lose herself in Drew, to be a woman with no past, to reach that elusive moment of complete and utter freedom. Because there was a good chance in a few hours, her future would be over, too.

  * * *

  Drew woke up just before dawn to the feel of a warm breeze coming through the open window and the sound of the birds singing in the trees outside. For the first time in a long time he'd slept a dreamless sleep. The nightmares from the past eight years had receded in his mind. There were no explosions, bloody scenes, screams of pain and anguish—no more horror or grief.

  Instead, he felt a hazy, happy feeling, as if everything was suddenly right with the world. He was completely relaxed with an ease that came after great sex and a hard, deep sleep. He almost didn't want to wake up, to face the day, to have to think about the decisions he'd made regarding his past and his future. He just wanted to stay in this warm, wonderful place, the place Ria had created.

  God! What a woman. So beautiful with her shoulder length silky blonde hair, brown eyes, sunburned nose, and a mouth just made for kissing. She'd brought a light into his life, a beauty that he hadn't seen in a while. She'd been passionate, generous and fun. They hadn't just made love; they'd laughed, and they'd talked, and the sound of her voice had warmed him.

  He'd come to the island to relax, to recharge, to find his smile again, and he'd found it in her arms. She'd smelled like orange blossoms, like the flowers surrounding his beachside cottage, and he'd felt like he could breathe in her scent forever, and forever wouldn't be long enough.

  That thought jolted him awake. He didn't think of women in terms of forever. Having just himself to worry about was a lot easier than having to worry about anyone else. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the time they had together.

  He rolled over on to his side, reaching for the soft curves he'd explored for the better part of the night.

  Ria wasn't there.

  He sat up abruptly, realizing how quiet the cottage was. The bathroom was empty, and while his clothes were still tossed on the floor, Ria's were gone. There was no sign of her white shorts or pink tank top. No sign of the lacy pink bra and matching thong he'd peeled off her body just a few hours earlier.

  He felt a wave of disappointment. He was leaving this afternoon, but he'd thought they'd have a few more hours together. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to talk to her, at least to say goodbye. What a strange feeling that was. He was used to leaving first, to avoiding morning-after conversations, but this time Ria had beat him to the door, and he didn't like it.

  He flopped back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. Memories of the night before flashed through his mind. The heat between them had burned all night long. It had been a long time since he'd felt—swept away. He'd always been one to over-think, over-analyze, but last night his body had completely taken over. He hadn't given one thought to what would happen next, until now.

  Now, it was obvious nothing would happen. Ria was gone. He should be happy about that. No goodbyes, no messy emotional scenes, no promises to call or keep in touch. It was in actuality the perfect morning after a one-night stand. The only probl
em was that he didn't want it to be over yet.

  He told himself it was better this way. He was starting his new job on Tuesday, a job thousands of miles away from this island. The next phase of his life was about to begin, and he needed to be looking forward instead of backward.

  Getting up, he headed to the bathroom and took a long shower, trying to drive Ria out of his head. But as he soaped up, all he could think about was the way she'd touched him, kissed him, smiled at him, and cried out his name as they'd climaxed together.

  Damn! He turned the water temperature to cold and stayed under the spray until he was freezing. Then he stepped out of the shower, dried off and got dressed. He threw the rest of his clothes into the duffel bag and glanced around the cottage to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind.

  He couldn't shake the feeling that what he was leaving behind was the one and only woman who'd touched his soul, and he didn't even know her last name.

  Was he just going to walk away?

  The question ran around and around in his head.

  He finally came up with an answer—no.

  He had a few hours before his plane left. He would find her, talk to her, maybe get her phone number. Walking outside, he paused, realizing he didn't know where she lived, and the bar/restaurant where she worked didn't open until lunchtime.

  Then he remembered that she'd told him she was taking out a boat charter in the morning. He felt marginally better realizing that she'd left early to go to work. Someone at the marina would be able to help him find her, or at least tell him when she'd be back.

  The dock was only a short walk away. Colorful sailboats and well-worn fishing boats filled the slips. In the distance was an enormous luxury yacht. He wondered who that belonged to—someone with a lot of money. Probably one of the people who lived in the mountain top mansions that he'd noticed while bodysurfing the previous day. It would be nice to have enough money to have a home on an island. He didn't see that in his future.

  Near the entrance to the pier was a small building with a sign that read Sea Charters.

  He entered the building and stepped up to the counter. A young Hispanic man with a nametag that read Juan greeted him with a friendly smile.

  "Hola, Señor. How can I help you?" Juan asked.

  "I'm looking for a woman. Her name is Ria. Do you know her?"

  "Si," Juan said with a nod. "Ria is a beautiful girl, very popular with the customers."

  "Do you know when she'll be back?"

  Juan glanced down at the large calendar on the counter. "A few hours. I have other guides available if you want to go out."

  "No," he said, tapping his fingers restlessly on the counter.

  So that was that. Ria was out on the ocean and probably wouldn't be back before he had to catch his plane.

  "Do you want me to give her a message for you?" Juan asked, a curious gleam in his eyes.

  Drew thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. What the hell was he doing? It was a hook-up. That's all. He needed to let it be.

  "No, thanks."

  As he walked out of the office, a thunderous boom lit up the air, rocking the ground under his feet. He heard a gasp from a group of tourists on the pier. Then the door opened behind him, and Juan rushed out. Together, they looked toward the sea. Over the curve of the nearby hill, they could see smoke racing toward the sky.

  "What was that?" Drew asked.

  "I don't know," Juan said. He ran down the pier toward the Harbormaster's office, and Drew decided to follow.

  A crowd of people gathered outside the office. Rumors were flying, all centering around a boat explosion.

  Drew's stomach turned. It was crazy to think the explosion had anything to do with Ria, but he had a really bad feeling in his gut.

  "Juan, I've changed my mind," he said. "I need to rent a boat."

  The other man looked reluctant. "Better to wait. We should stay out of the way."

  "I do search and rescue for the U.S. Coast Guard." He pulled out his wallet and all the cash he had. "I need a boat."

  Juan's greed won out. "I'll take you."

  It took several minutes for them to launch a boat and maneuver their way through the harbor, as more than a few people had had the same idea and desire to help. It seemed to take forever to get past the breakwater, the reef and then around the island hills.

  A good thirty minutes had passed by the time they reached the burning vessel, or what was left of it. It had been completely blown apart, with nothing but fiery debris floating in the water while divers began to search the ocean for survivors.

  Drew's chest was so tight he could barely get the words out. "It's not the boat Ria was on, is it?"

  Juan's somber gaze said it all. Drew stripped off his shirt.

  "What are you doing?" Juan asked.

  "I'm going to find her."

  "There's nothing left of the boat."

  "She could have jumped off before the explosion. How many other people were on the boat?"

  Juan shook his head. "I don't know. She made the reservation—probably one or two. I didn't see them board. They left before I got to work."

  Drew looked at the debris field and couldn't imagine how anyone could have survived, but he wasn't going to give up without a fight. This is what he did—he saved people. And he was going to save Ria.

  He kicked off his shoes and dove into the water. It was a strange feeling to be the one in the water when he was usually the one flying the helicopter that launched rescue swimmers into the sea. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't hovering above the scene, he was right in the thick of it.

  For almost two hours, he searched for Ria, but he couldn't find her. He couldn't find anyone.

  When a shiny piece of gold floated by him, Drew could no longer deny reality. It was Ria's necklace, the one he'd tugged at with his teeth as it lay in the valley of her breasts. He grabbed it and swam back to the boat. He felt completely exhausted and overwhelmed by unexpected emotion and a terrible certainty.

  He stared at the gold heart with the emerald stone and knew that Ria was gone. Beautiful, sexy Ria was dead. He was never going to see her again. One night was all they would ever have.

  Chapter Two

  Fifteen months later

  The distress call came in just before seven o'clock in the morning, a few minutes before his shift was supposed to end. A fire in a fishing boat threatened the lives of two people just off the coast of San Francisco. Drew Callaway and a Coast Guard crew that included fellow pilot, Tim Roberts, flight mechanic Connor Holmes and rescue swimmer, Michael Packer, took off five minutes later, with Drew at the controls of the MH65C Dolphin Helicopter.

  As they lifted off, the usual burst of adrenaline ran through his veins. Today's mission would be challenging. The wind was gusting at twenty knots with a steady stream of rain. Even worse there was a layer of low fog blanketing the Pacific Ocean, which would make visibility more difficult. But there were two people aboard the stranded fishing boat, who were counting on Drew and his crew to come through, and he was going to make damn sure that happened.

  His crew was a well-oiled machine, each person at the top of their game, and Drew was honored to be working alongside each of the men. His friend, Tim, could party as hard as he worked, but on the job, Tim was an excellent pilot, and they both trusted each other with their lives.

  Only one time had Tim led him astray and that was their trip to the island, not that Tim had anticipated Drew would fall for a woman who would end up dead the next day. But if they'd never made that trip, then Drew wouldn't be haunted each and every night by the vision of a beautiful blonde with sweet lips and reckless eyes.

  His focus faltered as he thought about Ria. She'd come into his life like a burst of sunlight and had made him feel like he was looking at a future that was much brighter and warmer than his past. But that warmth and light had only lasted a night. In the morning reality had returned, and even now he could feel the thunderous boom that had taken h
er from his life.

  As the months went by, he'd started to get over her, and then five months ago he'd seen a woman on Fisherman's Wharf, and something about her had caught his attention. Her hair had been brown, not blonde, and longer than he remembered, but her body, her walk had reminded him of Ria. She'd seemed so real and alive he'd actually jumped out of his chair at the outdoor café where he was having lunch with friends and bolted down the street after her.

  Unfortunately, he'd lost that woman in the crowd, and he'd been shaken by the glimpse of her ever since. But Ria was dead—wasn't she?

  Drew's gut tightened as he looked down at the ocean below him. They were thousands of miles away from the spot where Ria had lost her life. But the waves still reminded him of the hours he'd spent searching for her in the water.

  The memory also reminded him that in minutes he'd be sending a rescue swimmer down into a turbulent sea to do exactly what he had tried to do—save a life. Hopefully, this mission would be successful.

  No hopefully about it, he told himself firmly. Failure was not an option.

  Within minutes they reached the distressed vessel. It was taking on water fast, and two people were clinging to the side, as the boat was tossed up and down on the stormy waves. Flames lit up the interior cabin and thick smoke mixed with the rain.

  Drew sucked in a deep breath. Was this the same scene Ria had faced in her final minutes? It was more likely she hadn't realized she was in trouble until it was too late. There had been no radio call for help, just one powerful explosion that had blown her boat to pieces.

  Drew hovered over the scene as the flight mechanic opened the door and launched the rescue swimmer. For the next few intense minutes, Drew had to battle to keep the helicopter stable as the winds gusted. Flying helicopters was both thrilling and terrifying at times. When he'd first decided to switch from planes to helos, his instructor had looked him dead in the eye and said, "One thing you have to know. Planes want to fly. Helicopters want to crash."

  He'd taken the old adage as motivation to conquer the wily bird. He liked being able to fly in and out of tight spots. In the Navy, he'd had to deal with extreme heat and dangerous mountain ranges. He'd flown soldiers into enemy strongholds in the dead of night and rescued the injured. With the Coast Guard, he was able to pluck people out of the sea just before they took their last breath.