Breaker's Passion (7 page)

The woman looked at it, her eyes going dark. “Elizabeth Collins, vacationer.” They shook hands.

Elizabeth didn’t say what she did for a living, instead stating her current situation. She could be anything. She had a confidence and sophistication that would easily make her comfortable in a boardroom. Colby’s curiosity was piqued but she didn’t push it. It didn’t really matter what she did for a living. She was here and Colby wanted to know for how long.

“Are you a guest at the Carlyle?” She caught the eye of the waitress who had been hovering nearby and indicated two more drinks.

“Yes.”

“How long are you staying on my beautiful island?”

“Your island?” she asked, looking toward the crashing waves.

Colby chuckled. “Well, it’s not really my island.” She liked Elizabeth’s sense of humor.

“Did you just lie to me, Colby Taylor, surf instructor?” Elizabeth asked with fake outrage.

“Not at all. I was born not far from here. I tend to be a bit territorial about my homeland.” It was true. She did think of Maui as her island. It was where she grew up, learned how to swim, rode her first wave, and kissed her first girl. Now, twenty years later, it was where she came to find peace.

Elizabeth saw the way the waitress looked at Colby, then her, when she returned with their drinks. She was familiar with that look, which said she wanted more of what she’d already had and Elizabeth was in her way. She had noticed that expression on the faces of several women on the beach and around the resort when Colby was near. And why not? With her trim body, tight muscles, and confident swagger she was more than attractive and certainly could have any woman in the place. And she probably had. What in the hell was she thinking last night?

Elizabeth shook her head. She wasn’t thinking. And she was headed down that same one-way road right now. Before she got into any more trouble, she stood.

“I have to go,” she said quickly. By Colby’s surprised expression she either hadn’t expected it or wasn’t accustomed to being shut down.

“But we’ve just met. Can I interest you in dinner?” Colby rose.

“Yes, you can,” she wanted to say. In fact, she was interested in much more than dinner but instead replied, “Thanks, but I have plans.” She stepped away for some breathing room. “Thank you for the drink. It was a pleasure meeting you, Colby Taylor.” Before she could change her mind, she walked away.

“What the hell?” Stunned, Colby watched Elizabeth practically glide down the sidewalk toward the resort lobby. All the signs had been pointing to a continuation of where they left off last night. So why was she sitting here alone? One minute Elizabeth was comfortably flirting with her, the next she had doused the obvious flame burning between them. Colby shook her head. The waitress returned but this time stopped closer than she had when Elizabeth was with her. Even in her confused state she couldn’t miss her intent.

“Hey, Colby,” the waitress said after Elizabeth was out of earshot. “Wanna get together later? I’m off at eight.”

The waitress was looking at her with absolutely no shyness. Colby had gone out with her a few times. Actually, stayed in with her, and she didn’t expect anything other than a mutually good time. She had given Colby exactly what she needed at the time with no strings, unless you counted the braided rope they used the last time they were together. But when she looked at the waitress this time it was different. The familiar tingle of physical need she had followed directly into the woman’s bed had vanished. No stir of arousal, no tingle of anticipation, and definitely no throb between her legs. At least not for her.

“Sorry. Maybe some other time.” They most likely wouldn’t hook up again. She was tempted to follow Elizabeth but instead took her remaining drink and returned to the beach.

The angle of the sun was all she needed to know it was close to six o’clock. She rarely looked at her Ironman watch and never did when she was on her board. She should be hungry, having skipped lunch trying to find Elizabeth in the throngs of resort guests and sunbathers. And what was up with that? Colby never went looking for a woman, especially one she didn’t know. She couldn’t remember the last time she needed to do anything other than say yes to get a woman in bed, or naked in the sand.

Maybe that’s what surprised her about Elizabeth. She was obviously interested last night, hadn’t hesitated when Colby took her hand and led her into the trees. And the way Elizabeth pulled her mouth tighter against her breast didn’t signal a woman who needed any persuasion. She had no fucking clue what had changed during their fifteen minutes together this afternoon. Even less of a clue why she cared.

Elizabeth could see Colby from where she stood on her patio. She didn’t remember getting back to her room, her head full of their conversation and images of Colby lying stretched out on the chaise. Her legs shook as she watched the majestic figure standing so tall in the setting sun, as if she were surveying her kingdom, all that was hers.

She’d said this was her island, and even without the clarification Elizabeth knew it to be true. She saw it in the way she rode the waves, the way she taught kids to surf, the way she moved so effortlessly in the sand. She’d watched Colby so much in these first few days she felt like she knew her. Maybe that was why she had flirted with her so shamelessly. Had let her take her in her arms without a single word between them.

God, what had gotten into her? Her eyes were still on the unmoving figure in the chair by the pool, her hands burning as she remembered how strong the muscles in Colby’s back were, how soft her skin was under her fingertips. And, God, how she tasted. A combination of salt, sweat, and passion that was almost her undoing. Who was she kidding, it was her undoing, and if they hadn’t been interrupted there would have been a lot more undoing before it was over.

Colby’s voice echoed in her ears. “That’s where I was headed.” When Colby had blatantly implied that her head would be between her legs, Elizabeth wanted to drag her inside and make her prove it. She didn’t doubt Colby would be very good. But as much as she wanted to find out just how good, her common sense had returned from wherever it had flown off to.

She wasn’t like this. Not at all. Elizabeth Collins was a well-respected, relatively conservative academic with her libido completely under control. Her sexual appetite never got her in trouble. Hell, it never even got her a warning, let alone a speeding ticket. But something about Colby made her ignore everything she ever knew about herself. Maybe it was her surroundings, being in a place where nobody knew her and would never see her again. Maybe it was the sound of the water, like a demanding caress. Maybe she was just horny. Whatever, she was acting so out of character she hardly recognized herself.

Look at her now. Standing in the shadows staring at a woman she knew nothing about except her name and her need to find out if the skin on her legs was as smooth as it looked. Would the muscles in her stomach quiver when she touched them? Would her mouth drive her even crazier than it did when they kissed? And her hands. Her flesh was still on fire where Colby had touched her.

She continued to watch as Colby turned and seemed to look directly at her. She couldn’t be seen from here, but her head still buzzed and her pulse ran faster. Colby seemed to stare for several more moments before she turned away and walked down the beach. Elizabeth suddenly felt cool, as if Colby’s body heat had been stripped away from her.

She didn’t know what to do about this intense craving. She was here to work and relax, and only for a couple of months at that. Would she have a summer fling, then return to her routine as if nothing happened? A summer with Colby would not be nearly enough. She wanted her, no doubt about it, but having her was not an option. Now if she could only convince her body. “It’s going to be a long, hot summer,” Elizabeth murmured as she returned inside.

Colby had hardly slept. The nightmare was back, but this time Elizabeth’s face had replaced the one that had haunted her dreams for three years. Wide-awake, she glanced at the clock. Four thirty. In an hour it would be light and another day would begin. She tossed back the sheets, damp from her tortured dreams. She might as well get up. She couldn’t possibly go back to sleep and didn’t even want to try. The dream usually came just before dawn. Exactly like the reality of what had happened.

At one time she had almost killed herself from lack of sleep. When the nightmares began, she hadn’t slept more than an hour or two at a time. She set her alarm to prevent herself from falling into a deep sleep, which is when the dreams appeared. One night on the way home she drove off the road. Luckily, she skidded into a ditch instead of a redwood.

Time heals all wounds, and in her case that was mostly true. The nightmares no longer occurred nightly, only when she was stressed or the calendar reminded her what day it was. She was finally beginning to feel human again.

After she put the coffee on, she showered and was dressed in a few minutes in what little she wore every day. In her previous life she could wake from a deep sleep, shower, and be out the door in ten minutes, sometimes less. Since then, she had tried to consciously take more time and enjoy the warm water cascading over her, the luxurious scented soap, but it was hard to change habits that years of necessity had imposed.

Her hands were still shaking when she poured her first cup of coffee. It always took a while for her nerves to settle; however, this morning her hands shook more noticeably than usual after the nightmare. She had made the mistake of glancing at the calendar as she entered the kitchen and noticed the date. June 5. Three years, three months, and twelve days ago her selfishness had changed her life. One thousand, one hundred seventy-six days since that awful night when her lover jumped off the I-90 bridge right before her eyes.

No one knew the complete story except the Seattle police. She had explained everything, every moment in the days and weeks leading up to that night in excruciating detail until they were satisfied that she was not to blame. If it were only that simple.

Too jittery to sit in her kitchen, she went downstairs to her store. When she returned to the island she had bought it from an old man for much less than it was worth now and rebuilt both the shop and her life. It was her refuge.

The Top Side Surf Shop did a brisk business, and she employed several other locals to staff and manage it. She preferred to be in the water rather than behind the counter. Only Simi, the manager, knew she was the boss. Everyone else thought she was simply another hired hand. She signed the checks but Simi ran the place. She didn’t want any responsibility other than the lessons that gave her spirit the freedom it needed. And she liked it that way.

As she looked around the shop, familiar names and logos jumped out at her. Bing, Surftech, and Hobe surfboards; Body Glove and Rip Curl wet suits; Billabong board shorts and bikinis filled the racks. Boxes of flip-flops were stacked neatly by the dressing rooms, and Oakley sunglasses flanked the cash register. She was comfortable here. Having grown up in the water with a board tether practically glued around her ankle, this was where she felt most alive.

The place she had called home before she returned to the island was very different. Cold, sterile, bright lights adorned the rooms. Blips and beeps systematically indicating life and death, hurried voices speaking in hushed tones filled her ears. What she had now had replaced all that.

In the beginning the silence in her apartment was nerve-racking, almost overwhelming. She kept a radio on continually, tuned to the island’s only talk station to give her the illusion of having other people around. She waxed boards to the chatter of the afternoon hosts and tallied the day’s sales with the night crew. More often than not she fell asleep to the overnight show. Once she hired Simi, she was able to escape the manufactured ambience and relish the reassuring sound of the ocean.

Locking the door behind her, she headed toward the beach. An early morning swim always cleared her head and often erased her nightmares. She hoped this morning would be the same.

As she pulled into the deserted parking lot, she forced herself not to look in the direction of the Carlyle. She kept her back to the sprawling resort as she donned her wet suit. She didn’t want to give in to the temptation to search for Elizabeth in one of the lighted windows. She had no idea where her room was and to look would be ridiculous.

Dawn was just peeking over the horizon when she slid into the water as silently as an eel. She was a strong swimmer, even stronger since returning, but she remained cautious. Stroke after stroke took her farther from shore. The tides weren’t terribly strong this time of the day, but once she had got caught in a riptide that scared the shit out of her. When she was no more than fifty yards from shore she shifted her stroke and started swimming parallel to the beach. Judging from the lights of the resorts along the beach, Elizabeth’s was far behind her. She finally relaxed and swam for another half hour, then turned in the direction she had just come. The sun was fully above the waterline when she stepped out of the surf.

Elizabeth couldn’t believe it. Of all the minutes in the morning she could walk outside, she chose the exact moment Colby emerged from the ocean. She froze, her coffee cup not quite to her lips. The sight of Colby uncoiling her body, rising from the water like a sea goddess, took her breath. The world stopped. No waves crashing to the shore, no birds welcoming the morning, no low hum of the world around her. Her vision blurred for an instant before she focused on Colby. She saw nothing else.

Colby shook her head like Elizabeth had seen her do every time she came out of the water. She flung water from her short locks in every direction before she smoothed the dark hair away from her face. The wet suit was like a second skin, leaving very little to Elizabeth’s imagination. She had seen Colby in much less, but the form-fitting blue neoprene covering her from neck to ankle was the sexiest thing she had ever witnessed.

She continued to stare, unmoving, as Colby strolled across the sand in the opposite direction. She felt every beat of her heart as her blood raced through her veins. She heard every molecule of breath enter and exit her lungs. Her knees grew weak and she was suddenly dizzy. Her fingers tingled and her hands shook so bad her coffee dribbled over the rim of the almost-full cup. Her nervous system was on overload.