Full Surrender Page 2

  He could barely remember what he’d been like back then. It surprised him that she wanted to talk about the past. Talk about them. He didn’t know if he could handle a trip down memory lane. Tough enough just keeping a hand at the small of her back without pulling her against him.

  A kid’s cry sounded behind them and she turned to look back at the stragglers still visiting on the pier. He turned, too, sticking right with her. One of the sailor-suit kids had lost his balloon, the spot of red floating higher and higher while the little boy’s lower lip curved into the fiercest frown Danny had ever seen. Stephanie rushed back to hand him her balloon, the magic of a replacement popping the kid’s mouth right back into a smile while the parents thanked her.

  The action drew some attention from lingering sailors on the dock. Single frigging sailors from the way the guys looked her over. Danny wrapped an arm around her waist and shot them the evil eye, torqued off at them when he had no right to be.

  If she was surprised by the sudden close contact, she didn’t show it. She fit against him just as perfectly as he remembered, her hip the ideal height for him to rest his hand on as they walked.

  And in no time, he was thinking about how else they fit together. Memories bombarded him like rogue torpedo fire.

  “So where are we going?” she asked as they left some of the crowd behind. “Is it far?”

  “No.” He could see the Gran Torino already, parked in a private lot behind his favorite local restaurant. “There’s my ride. Looks like my buddy had it washed, too.”

  She murmured appreciatively. “I remember you telling me about this vehicle. You were restoring it yourself.”

  He swallowed hard, recalling that conversation. It had taken place in the huge claw-foot tub in her condo. Her on top of him. Naked. Sated. Covered in bubbles.

  “Yeah. I don’t put many miles on it since I’m hardly ever home.” He’d kept it garaged at his folks’ place up until this past spring. Then he’d moved it to Norfolk so he could use it when he wasn’t at sea.

  “Looks like you outdid yourself.” She hurried a step ahead of him to get a closer view. “Nice wheels.”

  She eyeballed the 1972 classic while he popped the trunk and found a pair of shoes he kept in the back. He could deal with the dress whites, except for the damn shoes that went with them. He set his cap in the trunk, too, and then went for the buttons on the tunic.

  Stephanie’s whistle stopped him cold. She stood there, at the back of the car now, her eyes roaming over him while her lips quirked in that wry smile he recalled from their first meeting long ago.

  “Undressing already, Danny?” She cocked her hip and fanned herself with one hand. “This lunch is going to be more fun than I thought.”

  2

  AS SEDUCTIVE EFFORTS went, it wasn’t much. But Stephanie needed to get the ball rolling and she was mega rusty when it came to flirtation.

  Still, she’d expected more reaction than the frozen stare Danny gave her now. Fingers stilled on the buttons of his white shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. His body was so tense he might as well have been carved from marble.

  Damn it, this had been a bad idea. She was about to withdraw her comment and change the subject when his green eyes went a shade darker. His strong chest rose and fell, his jaw flexing. A handful of subtleties made her realize he felt the same heat as her. He was just a whole lot better at hiding it.

  “Uh, that is, sorry,” she apologized hastily, stepping away from the trunk to admire the vintage Ford instead. She wasn’t sure why he’d want to suppress an attraction, but she hadn’t meant to put him on the spot by assuming any kind of connection still existed between them. “I didn’t mean to invade your space.”

  She forced her gaze to the car’s burgundy-colored paint, admiring the way the metallic flecks caught the light and hoping she hadn’t overstepped too soon and too much. Her skin felt as hot as the sun-warmed metal looked, her pulse throbbing so fast she felt it vibrate right through her skin.

  “I don’t have any sense of personal space after sharing a 500-foot ship with 300 people for 180 days,” he said slowly, the soft swish of fabric assuring her he’d started undressing again. “But if I did, you’d be more than welcome to it.”

  Oh. Warmth smoked through her, chasing away the embarrassment with another kind of heat—the kind she never seemed to feel anymore. Yet Danny Murphy could call forth that delicious response in no time flat.

  Apparently, she’d come to the right person to reawaken her libido. Now, if only she could convince him to sign on for the mission she had in mind.

  “Thank you. I didn’t mean for that comment to slip out, but I guess for a minute it felt like old times.” She couldn’t help the smile that started in her heart and worked its way to the surface. And she couldn’t stop smiling, even as he came over to her side of the car and opened the passenger door. He wore a gray T-shirt and a pair of loafers with his white uniform trousers. “I think I’m probably putting the cart before the horse to flirt with you when I don’t know your official relationship status. Danny, are you seeing anyone?”

  His mom hadn’t mentioned anyone special in his life in their brief phone conversation, but then again, it seemed as though Danny kept some distance from his family these days. A lot could happen in six months while the USS Brady stopped in ports all over the Atlantic.

  He stood in the open door after she got in, his green eyes briefly skimming her legs while she adjusted her skirt around them.

  “I’m unattached.” The way he said it lent the words a slightly ominous quality.

  Or had she imagined that?

  “Me, too,” she admitted, her voice failing her a little at the thought of how very unattached she’d become in the last handful of years. Some days, it seemed that she connected more with the pets she photographed than actual human beings.

  Danny lowered himself so that he was eye-to-eye with her.

  “Do you mind waiting a minute while I run inside and finish changing?” He held a pair of khakis in one hand. “The restaurant doesn’t open to the public until noon, but I know the owner and he’s got something for me.”

  “Sure.” She nodded, hypnotized by the sight of him after so long. With the partial change of clothes, he looked more like she remembered already, except perhaps for his clean-shaven face. When they’d met, he’d worn a dark soul patch trimmed beneath his lower lip and the shadow of short hair at his chin.

  She still remembered exactly what that scruff of bristles felt like against her when he kissed her. What would he feel like now?

  “Good.” Rising, he pressed the old-fashioned lock on the door. “You should keep the doors locked even though this is a good neighborhood, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  She tried not to think about that small protective gesture as he slammed the door shut and jogged up the back steps of a dockside restaurant. The day had started off so well. She didn’t want to lose the pleasantly flirtatious vibe by remembering the time she hadn’t been behind a locked door and a man had grabbed her right off the street, yanking a bag over her head....

  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.
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  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.