The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (24 page)

          Meghan screwed up her face. “And he gets that funny look on his face when he does that, too.”

          Intrigued, she asked. “Look? What kind?”

          Covering her mouth with her hands, Meghan giggled. “You know that look when the prince is getting ready to kiss the princess. That’s the kind!” Then, she pointed at her. “And you get it, too!”

         Giving an uncomfortable laugh, she grabbed the teacup from the table. Not even caring that it was warm and distasteful, she downed it.

      Was her attraction for her mysterious fiancé that transparent?

       “Got any left for me?”

       Starting, she nearly capsized the tiny table.

       Face reddened, she turned to find Jarrod standing in the doorway. Now dressed in khaki shorts and a light blue Henley top, he seemed relaxed as he poised in the door.

       “Daddy!” Meghan squealed, jumping up, and then ran to him.

       His lips curled in a smile. “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked, sweeping her up in his arms. Winking, he tapped her chin playfully. “Did I miss the party?”

       “Yes, Daddy, you were late---that’s why you missed it,” Meghan whined before a wide smile beamed across her face. “But, the party’s not over.”

       Smiling, watching them, Olivia stayed silent as father and daughter made their exchange. There was just something so special about them, she mulled, picking a doll from the floor.

       And if she’d had a father, would he have loved her just as much?

       Hugging the doll to her, she turned her attention back to them. Over Meghan’s head, their gazes clashed, and again, she struggled against the feelings stirring within her.

     “How do you and Meghan feel about going to the mainland for awhile?” he asked, studying her closely. “I’m dropping Rosa off, and then, heading to the market to pick up some things.”

        Meghan clapped her hands together excitedly. “Yay! Daddy’s going to be captain, and we’re going to Canyon Islands!”

        “Yes, I’d love to go,” she nodded, then, looked down at her haltered dress. It resembled one that an islander would rare. Bright pink and red floral, thin, a flowing comfortable style, and it reached her bare feet.

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll change---”

         His tone was deep and husky. “There’s no need for that. You look beautiful.”

        “Thank you,” she said, blushing, and stood. “I’m going to grab my shoes.”

        “You may want to pack a few things in case there’s an emergency or we get tied up or something,” he replied, staring at her thoughtfully.

       “Ok,” she nodded.

        Watching them, Megan covered her mouth with her hands before giggling. Then, she addressed her. “I told you that Daddy had that funny look. He’s doing it right now.”

         “Are we leaving now?” she asked hurriedly, trying to throw him off Meghan’s statement.

          Jarrod placed a squirming Meghan on the floor. He nodded, “We leave in about ten minutes. Rosa and I will be waiting for the both of you at the dock.”

         Nodding, giving her a final look, he strode away.

         When he was out of earshot, she squatted down. “Come on, let’s get you out of this,” she murmured, pulling the over-sized shirt off of Meghan. “And then, we’ll join them.”

          “Why do grown ups get ‘barrassed when they like each other?” Meghan pondered, grabbing up a doll after the shirt had been taken off. She shook her head in amazement. “That’s nothing to be ‘barassed about. Princesses never get ‘barassed cause they like the princes.”

            She pressed her lips together firmly. “Sometimes we, grownups, are just like kids, and we don’t want to talk about stuff. And in that moment, like you said, your father and I were
embarrassed
,” she said, tapping her nose. “Now, come on.”

            Moments later, when they departed the house, she was taken back by the beauty of the home. Cropping up like a majestic temple, the white villa-style mansion was a sight to behold. Together, she and Meghan strode for the dock. A smiling Rosa waved at them from the motor yacht as they approached. The waves lapped against the motor yacht as it rocked to and fro.

        When Jarrod noticed their approach, he hurried across the boat’s deck. “Come here, squirt,” he teased, grabbing hold of Meghan as he hauled her from her arms, and when he was sure that she was safely on, he extended his hand to her, “Here, let me help you.”

      As his large hand closed around hers, she lost her breath.

      Under the sunlight, his green eyes seemed like the deep green sea, and within them so many emotions swirled. Within them, she saw her own torment and need to embrace the deep hunger.

      Breathless, she said nothing as she stepped onto the deck, and he released her immediately before hurrying back to the helm.

      “Come on, Livvy!” Meghan said impatiently, tugging on her hand. “Rosa’s making all my favorites!”

      “Ok, lead the way,” she smiled, following behind her, and then they took the steps leading below deck.

       A few seconds later, they were in the salon.

        Her gaze traveled around.

      Impressive in size and impeccable in structure, the motor yacht was well adorned. A plush white sectional sofa introduced the fine palette, and the flat screen satellite TV was an added accessory. The pair of sleek modern lamps sat on the matching side tables, and a metallic coffee table rested before the sofa. An oblong dinette table that seated eight added to the décor.

      Ahead of the salon, the galley stretched out. Containing upscale stainless steel appliances and mahogany wood cabinetry, the space was even more impressive. The matching round stools were lined before the counter and a flora arrangement of gardenias and roses stood at its center. A nook stood at the far corner, complete with the dressings. Just ahead, a door was opened partially, evidently the master stateroom and head, she mulled, noticing the full sized bed. As her gaze swung around, she noticed an additional door which probably led to the guest staterooms.

      “Ms. Lange,” Rosa smiled, stepping to the counter. “Would you care for carne azada?” The woman held out the plate laden with flour tortillas, steak, tomatoes, lettuce, and other garnishments. “I’m assuming that you like food of the Spanish culture.”

       “Of course, I’d love some. It smells delicious.”

        Rosa’s smile was kind. “Then, chica, take a seat along with Meggie.”

        A joyful Meghan already had her mouth stuffed full when she joined her at the counter. And then, she was closing her eyes in contentment as she devoured the Spanish dish.

       And after they finished, Rosa hummed under her breath softly as she cleaned, and Meghan was chattering incessantly as she followed in the woman’s wake.

        She glanced around the salon.

        A pile of magazines rested on the side table. Bored, she grabbed one before flipping it open, but after thumbing through it, she realized that it was useless. Standing, she looked at Rosa and Meghan again, and as she suspected, they were still heavily preoccupied and enjoying one another’s company.

       She trailed towards the opening.

       Taking the short stairs, she left the cabin and reached the deck. The smell of the azure waters met her as she stepped on the deck. Her gaze shot to the helm, and again, her heartbeat tripled.

        Deep in thought, hand curled along the steering wheel, Jarrod steered the boat. A pair of dark sunglasses shielded his eyes, and again, she was reminded of how devastatingly handsome he was. Before her riddled nerves could get the best of her, she ambled forward. “Hi!” she said loudly, taking the lounge seat beside him.

       Though the sunglasses shielded his green eyes, she still felt their intensity. “Hi,” he nodded, glancing her way fast before turning away.

       An uncomfortable silence lingered.

       Curious, she stared at him.

       Why was he being so closed off?

       Was this his way of keeping some distance between them?

       Not knowing how or why, the bravery overcame her. “Why have you been avoiding me? You’ve been doing it for days.”

       That got his attention.

       “Is that what I’ve been doing?” Jarrod muttered, and again, the cool mask slipped into place. “What gives you that idea?”

      Over the rushing waters, she said, “The fact that we really haven’t talked or anything since the night at the bungalow is telling to me. Was it something that I’ve said or done?”

      He glanced over at her. “Now, what reason would I have to avoid you, Olivia?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t know, Jarrod. Why don’t you tell me why?”

      “It’s obvious that you’ve conjured something in that little head of yours,” he muttered, turning away.

      “I’m not imagining things.”

      She centered her gaze on the side of his face. Already the sun had turned his skin a golden brown, and his dark brown hair seemed to have gold flecks under the sun’s rays.

       Jarrod blew a breath. “Listen, Olivia. You’re right. I have been avoiding you. It’s just that I’ve had some things on my mind. But, they have nothing to do with you, alright. I don’t want to fight about it. So, let’s just drop it. Agreed?”

       “Agreed,” she said, resigned, realizing that she didn’t want to continue to fight as well.

        Satisfied, she leaned back in the lounge chair, allowing herself to relax. As the minutes passed, she realized that he was good at captaining. And as they passed various landmarks, he was careful to point them out, giving specific in depth details as he did.

        “See that right there?” he asked, pointing to the wide boulders protruding from the waters. “Legend says that a great battle took place between opposing Mayan clans, and the supposed victor claimed his victory by showing the remains of those that he’d beheaded.”

         “Really?” she said, fascinated by the strange tale, and studied him with interest. “You seem to know a lot about the history of the Mayans and this particular location.”

         “I do,” he nodded. “Believe it or not, I’m a history buff, and there’s something profound about getting a rare glimpse of the legacy left behind by those before us.” He glanced at her again. “Most of my knowledge comes from the fact that I studied here.”

         “You studied abroad---here?” she asked, pulling her legs under as she turned on the lounge seat. “The history---is that what propelled you to buy a home here?”

         “Laramie Rock, you mean?” Lifting a brow, he shook his head. “Hardly. It’s a beautiful piece of property. A friend of mine had originally intended to buy, but changed his mind at the last minute. He passed the information about it to me, I came out, saw the property, and I fell in love with it upon sight.”

        “It is beautiful,” she agreed, staring at the crashing waves. “And it’s so peaceful and quiet there---like its worlds apart from anywhere else.” She paused. “How long will it take us to make it to the mainland?”

        “At 32 knots, about 8 hours.” With a close eye, he inspected the radar and other controls. “Luckily for us, there aren’t any bad conditions, and it should be smooth sailing from here on out. Four hours in, I’m dropping anchor.”

        Mesmerized, she watched his lips move.

        What would it feel like to touch her lips to his? Would it be as devastatingly erotic as her fantasy? Blushing, she looked away before stammering, “How did you become such an accomplished captain?”

         “I come from a family of avid captains,” he said, giving a crooked grin. “Papa thinks that he’s the best there is, and I have to say that he’s probably right.”

         That gave her pause. “And how does your family feel about me? Do we get along?”

         Cool, distant, his words were detached. “You’ve never met them.”

         “Why?” she asked, shocked. “How is it that we are engaged, and I’ve never met your family?”      
          “It’s complicated,” he said in defense.

          “And why is it so complicated?” she demanded angrily. “You claim that we are so much in love, but yet, your family knows nothing about me. First Meghan, and now, your parents.”

         “Olivia, you’re making this more than what it is,” he said stiffly. “There are things that you’d never be able to accept about me or my family. It’s best that you keep your distance from them.”

           The tears burned in her eyes. “You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you? Just knowing what I do about my past, I know that my beginnings aren’t something that you want to share with the world. On top of that, I’m a struggling artist.” Sniffling, she brushed the stray tear away. “But, I refuse to be ashamed of who I am. While I’m struggling to remember even the vaguest parts about myself, I sense that I’m strong enough to stand on my own.”

       “Olivia,” he said, whipping the sunglasses from his face, and then reached out with his free hand. “You’re misconstruing the situation---”