Full Surrender

Panicking, she rolled down the window for fresh summer air. Claustrophobia was more of a problem right now than the likelihood of getting kidnapped two blocks away from a huge U.S. military installation. She dragged in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She refused to end up like her mom—perpetually nervous about everything. And, thinking of her mother’s constant worries, Stephanie checked her cell phone to make sure it was off. Phone calls from a nervous parent were not welcome when she was trying to seduce a man.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called from nearby, sooner than she expected. “Are you okay?”

She watched Danny descend the wooden steps, his white trousers in hand now that he wore a pair of faded khakis that conformed to muscular thighs. He also carried a couple of huge take-out bags, one of which was topped with three baguettes that stuck out of the paper sack. Hauling in one more deep drag of the salty sea breeze off the harbor, Stephanie wiped a little sweat from her forehead and gave him a thumbs-up.

“I’m good to go,” she called back, not wanting to ruin this reunion with stupid stuff from the past that did not rule her life anymore. “And I’m dying for a ride in this baby.”

She patted the side of the Gran Torino through her window. Then, recalling he was still locked out, she leaned over and popped the door on his side.

“Fair enough.” He slid in beside her, tossing the take-out bags and his extra pair of pants in the backseat. Then he dropped a set of dog tags into the console with a bunch of coins. “But will you be disappointed if we eat lunch at my place?” He started the engine and then jerked a thumb toward the bags of food. “I’ve had an order in at this place for six months and I hate to miss out on homemade manicotti.”

By now, the scent of basil-laden tomato sauce wafted her way. She peered back at the huge bags and frowned.

“I don’t know. Are you sure there’s going to be enough food for me in there?”

He laughed and the sound soothed her like a hug. The last of her claustrophobia disappeared, carried away by the warm breeze drifting through the windows as they drove past pawn shops and pizza joints toward the main road.

“Jerry packed enough grub to feed six people, which should be about right for the two of us.”

He cranked the radio and lowered his window. She realized the song playing was one his band used to cover, a ballad with hard-core guitar harmonies and a screechy lead vocal. For a moment, the years rolled away, a weight lifting from her chest. It had been easy to be with him five years ago, too. He could be charming when he wanted, but more often he was quiet. She’d liked that about him because she was the same way with a public personality and a private one. And both sides of her had felt comfortable around Danny.

She lifted her voice to sing along while he drove. On a quiet stretch of access road before they met the highway, he stuck his head all the way out the window, letting the wind whip through his hair. She was tempted to copy him, it looked so fun. When he ducked back into the car, his dark hair stood straight up in the center, as though he’d been through a wind tunnel.

They took turns singing on the way home, maybe because it was easier than talking. Sometimes that public party persona was simpler to deal with than the moodier private one. But she half dreaded asking him to have a fling. Something told her he wasn’t going to jump in with both feet the way he had five years ago. He struck her as more serious now, for one thing. She’d seen it in that powerful stride when he’d walked down the boat ramp, felt it in the way he’d tensed when she’d flirted with him.

Half an hour later, they were on the far side of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, rumbling over coastal roads. They passed a sign welcoming them to Cape Charles.

“It’s beautiful out here.” She’d grown up on Long Island, but it had been easy to forget you lived anywhere near the water with the dense urban sprawl from the city. Here, the scent of the bay hung in the air and patches of beach were occasionally visible through the trees. Blue water sparkled under the early afternoon sunshine.

“When I left Cape Cod, I tried to choose a place that felt like home. My house here is a pretty good compromise.” He hit his turn signal just then, pulling into the driveway of a gray, cedar-sided house that would have been lovely even if wasn’t overlooking the water.

Perched on the beach as it was, she couldn’t imagine what the Nantucket-style home had cost him.

“Oh, wow.” She’d known that his family was wealthy. But she hadn’t really pictured this. “If this is a compromise, I can’t imagine what the house you were raised in looks like.”

He turned off the engine and tugged the bags out of the backseat.

“Before my dad formed Murphy Resorts, he was a real estate developer at a time when property rates were growing exponentially. So yeah, my folks live well these days.” He hit a button on a key-ring remote that lifted a garage door off to one side. Two weathered Adirondack chairs sat on a deck off the room over the garage.

“Do you have someone take care of things while you’re away? It must be hard to leave such a beautiful place.” She followed him into the garage, which was empty except for a bicycle and a scooter as big as a small motorcycle. He’d left his car outside.

“A property manager has it cleaned and watches it while I’m gone.” He used his keys to open an interior door that led them into a modern kitchen full of whitewashed cabinets and stainless-steel appliances.

But her eyes didn’t stay on the kitchen. The open floor plan drew her attention to a huge family room with a wall of windows that overlooked the water.

“This is incredible.” She walked toward the windows, drawn by the view. “I can’t imagine how relaxing it must feel to come home to this.”

The beach was empty even though a few boat ramps were visible down the shoreline, suggesting other houses were nearby through the trees that lined the property.

He dropped the bags onto the counter and shuffled through the take-out lids, so she returned to the kitchen to help.

“After growing up near the water, I get a little stir-crazy if I can’t see it now.” Turning on the oven, he slid some foil containers inside to reheat. “Would you like to take a walk out there while this warms up?”

“That’d be great.” She wanted to feel the sand between her toes, but walking out on that shoreline with Danny would be the ideal time to come clean about what she wanted from him. Her heart rate jumped into a higher gear as an attack of nerves set in.

“This way.” He nodded toward the French doors off the living area and they walked past overstuffed blue couches to reach the patio.

Stephanie took her shoes off and left them on the wooden deck before she followed him down the few steps to the beach. Sea grass bent in the breeze on a couple of low dunes close to the house. Beyond that, a few patches of dried black seaweed clumped in piles while the surf rolled onto the shore with a rhythmic whoosh.

“My dogs would love this.” She tipped her face into the salty air.

“You have pets?” He stretched his arms over his head and arched his shoulders like he was working out some kinks.

She tried not to stare. But then again, how could she not? It had been a long time since looking at a man incited the kind of sensual interest she felt right now. That spark of excitement made her feel alive. Healthy. Whole.

“Yes. A couple of cats.” Her voice cracked, her throat dry. She licked her lips and tried again. “I meant the dogs I photograph would have a blast out here. I love taking pictures in natural settings like parks, or at the owners’ homes. But I’d get some great shots if I had this in my backyard.”

Water really brought out the personality of some dogs. Labs and retrievers. Newfies, Porties … And maybe if she kept thinking about her job, she’d forget about what she really needed to discuss. The oh-so-awkward reason she’d made the three-hour drive from D.C. to Norfolk.

“I’d like to see your work sometime.” He toed off his loafers and socks, then headed into the shallow surf. “But first, I’ve got to ask—”

“Uh-oh.” She waded in after him, gathering her excess skirt material in one hand so that it didn’t blow in the breeze off the water.

“What?”

“I know what you’re going to ask, but I’m still working up the nerve to answer.” She flexed her toes into the squishy sand, which fell away beneath her feet as a wave rolled back out to the bay.

“Are my questions that obvious? We haven’t seen each other in five years and you’re already reading my mind?”

“It doesn’t take a mind reader to guess that you’d be curious about why I popped up out of the blue today.”

He frowned. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask, but now that you mention it, learning that is actually a high priority for me.”

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Why hadn’t she let him just finish his thought? Because she was nervous and antsy and … oh, God. This was a stupid idea.

Nevertheless, she’d been imagining this moment for a whole year and she’d hate herself if she chickened out now.

“Are you familiar with the idea of—” she cleared her throat “—sexual healing? You know, recovering lost mojo by having sex with someone you trust?”

Silence met her question. Can you say … awkward?

Danny looked as if she’d hit him with a two-by-four. But there was no turning back now, so she took a deep breath and summed it up for him.

“Well, my mojo hasn’t been the same since … you and I were together last. I’ve been waiting for you to return from your deployment so I could proposition you. What do you say to re-creating our affair?”

DANNY WASN’T SURE if he stood there for ten seconds or ten minutes after Stephanie posed the question. He couldn’t have been more stunned if a rogue wave rose out of the bay, knocked him on his ass and dragged him out to sea. In fact, he probably would have recovered faster if that was the case.

“Danny?” Her voice sounded far away because of all the thoughts that came rushing into his head. She stepped closer, her hand landing on his wrist.

Her request echoed in his mind on an endless loop. He didn’t know whether to pump his fist in victory or cry that she needed to ask. Yeah, knowing why she wanted that kind of healing ripped him raw. In her public account of her abduction, she’d denied being … assaulted. She’d written a book about the experience afterward, and he’d read the whole thing cover to cover a few times. But he had no way of knowing the deeper damage of what she’d really been through—the things she hadn’t put into print.

If she was brave enough to ask him for something like that, however, he was humbled to be the one she went to. He’d damn well do whatever she wanted. Even if it ripped apart the crappy patch job he’d done on his memories of that whole time.

“Come here.” He would have gone to her, but he was still a little numb. He was also wary of spooking her by showing her how much he wanted this. “Please. Will you just come here?”

Between her uncertain step forward and his arms reaching out, he caught her. Drew her against him. She stumbled a half step, but then she was tucked tight to his chest, the top of her head just below his chin where he could rest his cheek and breathe in the scent of her hair. Her arms went around him and her skirt wrapped around his legs in the sea breeze.

He held her that way for ten steadying beats of his heart before his body reminded his brain what she’d just asked of him. All that numbness evaporated. Like a fireball shot into an oil spill, there was sudden ignition everywhere and a tremendous rush of heat.

“Is this your way of letting me down gently?” Stephanie wiggled free of his arms, backing up a step. The flower that she’d stuck in her hair was starting to wilt, no doubt a little crushed from when he’d held her. “Because if this is just a nice attempt to say no—”

“Yes.” He bit out the word more sharply than he’d intended. “I say hell yes. I have to leave in three weeks for another six-month deployment, so I won’t be in town for long. But if you’re cool with that and don’t mind that this is short-lived … I want to be with you.”

He straightened the red flower, tucking the stem more securely behind her ear and trying like hell to smother the inferno threatening to consume him from the inside out.

Her eyes went wide. A smile started, but she lifted her hands to her face, hiding it.

“Seriously?” She sounded happy. A little breathless. “I hope you’re not saying that just because you feel bad for the awkward girl who sucks at seduction. It’s just that I feel safe with you and—”

Danny kissed her. No hesitation this time. His blood still simmered for wanting her, so it wasn’t exactly a chore to seal her lips with his and cut off that line of thinking in no uncertain terms.

She sank into him, her body pliant and warm. She tasted like cinnamon, her lip gloss as edible as the woman. Her soft, yielding mouth reminded him of other kisses, other times she’d given herself to him. And as much as he loved those past days together, he wanted this kiss to be all about the present for both of them. A moment belonging so fully to the here and now that they’d never confuse it with the past.

Edging back, he whispered, “Not a chance.” He stroked up her spine to thread his fingers through her hair, the water swirling higher around their legs as the tide came in. “This is about me and you and new beginnings.”

“Yes.” She nodded fast, obviously liking that idea. “A do-over.”

“Exactly.” They’d be safer that way, he thought. The more they focused on the present, the easier this would be for both of them. “Are you ready to leave the past behind and enjoy the moment?”

Using her hands, she steadied herself on his shoulders as a wave rolled past them, splashing up to his knees.

“Very ready.” Her affirmation was all the encouragement he needed.

Lifting her against him, he tipped his forehead to hers.

“Here’s to a clean slate,” he said softly.

He twirled her in the surf with him, her damp skirt twining around his legs. Too late he saw a high wave speeding toward them. He turned to shelter her and take the brunt of the water on his back, but the force was too great, pulling them down, submerging them both in the Chesapeake Bay.

3

AS THE WATER CLOSED over his head, Danny kept Stephanie pressed tight to him. He hadn’t meant to haul her into the surf without warning. But Stephanie had always had a sense of adventure and spontaneity, just like him.

Or so he thought until she started to struggle in his arms.

Blasting straight to the surface, he pulled her high out of the water, arms locked around her waist and shoulders.

“Are you okay? I didn’t see that wave coming until it was too late.” He scanned her face, trying to get a read on what was wrong. “Is it too cold?”

Water sluiced down her face and shoulders, her dress straps sagging on her arms. Her flower had disappeared and her dark hair was plastered slick to her head. What scared him most was how pale she’d gone.

“I’m fine.” Her eyelids fluttered. Her heartbeat throbbed fast in the blue vein that stood out sharply against her pale throat. “I just … It was dark and I couldn’t see for a second.”

He frowned. Fear of the dark?

She’d never been freaked out by not being able to see before. So it only made sense something had happened between now and then to give her that kind of phobia. No doubt it had to do with her abduction. In trying to distance them from the past, he’d unwittingly thrown her right back into it. It would kill him thinking about how she might have developed that new fear, but he’d be damned if he’d ask her about it now, when they were supposed to be focused on a fresh start.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered against her forehead. Being with Stephanie was going to be filled with landmines for both of them. “I should have gotten us to the surface faster. I didn’t realize …”

It never occurred to him she might panic. He cursed himself for his insensitivity.

“It’s all right.” Her pupils were wide despite the sun still high in the afternoon sky. She wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering. “I was just surprised.”

“Come on.” He draped an arm across her shoulders and steered her toward the shore. “You can dry off inside.”

“Thanks.” She wrung out a fistful of wet hair as they trudged toward the shore, soaked clothes weighing them down. “I promise I’m not usually spooked that easily. I love the water.”

Yeah. He remembered that about her. They’d taken midnight swims in the pool at her town house those days they’d spent together on Long Island. Sat in the Jacuzzi tub for hours.

“Maybe we can hit the beach sometime when it’s not such a surprise.” He scooped up his shoes as they reached the shore, then guided her back toward the patio and into the house. “Let me get you a towel.”

He saw a blanket on the back of the couch and grabbed that instead. Wrapping her up in blue fleece, he assessed the damage. Her eyes were focused. Clear. Her color seemed better. And he would make damn sure it stayed that way.

“You want a shower while I put the food on the table?” He gestured down the hall while they dripped on the rug near the French doors. “There’s a bathroom off the spare bedroom on the right. It connects to a walk-in closet that has some extra clothes. You can grab a T-shirt or whatever you need out of there.”

“Sounds good.” She gave a firm nod, as if she was as determined as him to put the incident in the water behind them. “Thank you.”

Her gaze roamed over his face, slowing at his mouth, lingering there. Was she thinking about that kiss they’d shared, too? He still couldn’t believe what he’d agreed to out in the bay with her. In a perfect world, they’d take things slow and easy. Not rush into anything. But if she kept up those long looks of hers … he’d find it hard to be the sensible one.

SLIDING INTO ONE of Danny’s T-shirts, Stephanie paused to bury her nose in the cotton at one shoulder. Granted, she probably only smelled laundry detergent. But there was something about wearing a man’s clothes that made her feel sexy and safe at the same time. Like having some of Danny’s strength around her 24/7.

Wouldn’t that be addicting if she wasn’t careful?

She pushed the wicker basket full of clean shirts back into the closet cubby, reminding herself that part of the reason Danny seemed like a safe choice right now was that he’d only be home for a few weeks. She hadn’t known that his stay would be quite that short, but she’d realized it was inevitable he’d go back to sea for his job. No chance of getting in over her head with a guy due to leave before the month’s end.

Pulling through her tangled hair with a wide comb she’d found in a drawer by the sink, Stephanie peered into another wicker basket and found a stack of running shorts. She dug deeper until she spied a gray pair with a drawstring waist that might cinch enough to fit. Her underwear was soaked, so she’d have to go commando. Which might be fine down below, but up top? She stepped from the closet back into the bathroom and checked her reflection. A second T-shirt was definitely in order if she wanted to give the girls halfway decent coverage.

Snagging a second white T-shirt, she pulled it over her head, determined to enjoy her time with Danny from this moment forward. She’d freaked out in the water, but she was done with that now.

Yes, she’d been traumatized when her assignment in Iraq had turned hellish. The family who’d grabbed her and reporter Christina Marcel had been coerced into doing so. Apparently, the family had angered Iraqi insurgents the week before when their oldest son had met with Christina to be interviewed for a story on the effects of the war on the Iraqi people.

Furious that the young man had talked to American reporters, insurgents had killed him and demanded the family use their connections to abduct and hold the reporters or risk seeing another one of their sons gunned down. Her captors hadn’t been as cruel as seasoned rebel soldiers might have been, but Stephanie had still been terrified of them, knowing they would do whatever the insurgents wished.

She hadn’t been raped, although she’d been beaten when she was first taken, to keep her from trying to escape. She’d been scared to death and she still had nightmares about being kept in the dark.

But she’d dealt with it. Put it behind her. And now, years later, she was finally ready for this. For Danny Murphy, the last great memory she had before she went to Iraq. Keeping that in mind, she padded through the hall toward the big, open kitchen.

“It smells fantastic,” she observed lightly, hoping to get this day back on track. She’d survived the worst of her awkward request of Danny, so now she only had to enjoy the fruits of her embarrassment.

He’d said yes, after all. She shivered just thinking about what that meant.

“I hope you brought your appetite.” He stood by the coffee table, arranging plates and glasses on the heavy plank top so they could eat on the sofa. Steam wafted from the plain white dishes loaded with manicotti and red sauce. Salad bowls were heaped with fresh greens and grated cheeses. And a bread basket held several slices of the baguette, some that were plain and some slathered with butter and lightly broiled.

He’d changed into dry shorts and a worn black concert T-shirt for some obscure band, the lettering peeling. His dark hair was still damp and sticking up in a few places as if he’d just used his fingers to shove it out of his eyes.

Her mouth watered for the man as much as the meal.

“I didn’t realize I was hungry until now.” She edged around the sofa to take a spot in front of the low table. “The view is pretty great, too.” Realizing she happened to be staring at him at the moment, she pointed hastily out the window. “I mean, of the bay.”

He sat beside her on the sofa.

“I like the view, too.” He never took his eyes off her. While that comment sank in, he lifted a glass of water and handed it to her, then raised his own. “Here’s to old friends.”

Her heart beat fast. She resisted the urge to tug at the layered T-shirts she wore, knowing her body would be sending obvious signals about how much he affected her. The soft cotton created a pleasurable friction against her breasts.

“Cheers to that.” She clinked her tumbler to his and sipped the water, hoping it would help cool her off. “Don’t let me slow you down, Danny. You must be starving.”

She gestured toward his plate and he grinned.

“I’ll try not to inhale it,” he said as he picked up a fork and dug in.

Following suit, she tasted the manicotti and promptly realized what he liked about the simple dish. The cheese filling was light and amazing. The pasta obviously homemade. And the sauce—yum. She’d polished off half of it before it occurred to her that, delicious as the food was, she wasn’t coming close to fulfilling her real hunger.

Setting her fork down, she wondered how to move things forward with Danny.

“So …” she began, watching him help himself to more of everything. “I don’t mean to sound overly practical about this, but I wondered what you thought of the logistics of … er … you and me?”

He eyed her over a forkful of pasta.

“I may have been out to sea for six months, but I’ve still got a pretty good idea of how the logistics work.”

His wolfish grin stirred her more than the earnest touches of her last—and only—boyfriend after what had happened in Iraq. She had thought something was wrong with her for months while she’d dated Josh, a guy who worked for the agency that had helped with publicity for her book and that vetted the responses she still received on her memoir. She’d thought she wanted to pursue a real relationship with him and had blamed her lack of sensual interest on her ordeal. After all, she had shut down emotionally in a lot of ways afterward.