Adrift, p.12
Adrift, page 12
part #4 of Serendipity Adventure Romance Series
“Yes!” Meredith cheered as the motorboat turned back to its mother ship.
“This is the French Coast Guard,” Pierre’s voice boomed over the speakers. The friendly tone was gone, replaced by a don’t-fuck-with-me note. “Ordering you to cease and desist.”
He meant the speedboat, not Serendipity, and Tuss exhaled. Maybe Pierre wasn’t such a loser, after all.
“How did you know the French Coast Guard was even here?”
Meredith shook her head. “It’s complicated. Just remind me never to complain about talkative pilots again.”
They both looked up. Pierre buzzed low over the speedboat in an unmistakable message until its crew cut off its pursuit of Serendipity and headed back to Tsareva.
The radio filled with traffic. Tsareva called for assistance. Pierre announced that a French cutter was on its way — though he didn’t specify whether that ship would assist the foundering vessel or arrest the owner. Meredith hailed Pierre, gushing thanks, then turned to Tuss.
“New course,” she said, beaming and pointing right.
“Where to, Captain?” he grinned back. A day that seemed about to come to a horrible end was suddenly looking up.
“How does Martinique sound to you?”
“Perfect.” He nodded. “Just perfect.”
“All right then. Twenty degrees to starboard. Course north by northwest.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” He grinned, turning the wheel right. “Aye-aye.”
Epilogue
One week later…
“Nice,” Meredith whispered, tracing the shadows playing over Tuss’ back.
“Nice,” he echoed quietly.
She laughed. Nice was an understatement. She and Tuss were lying side by side under a palm tree on a picture-perfect white sand beach, watching Serendipity bob at anchor nearby. The sun was high, and palm fronds rustled in the breeze, making the shadows dance and sway.
With his eyes closed and his mouth curled in a satisfied grin, Tuss was the picture of contentment. Meredith figured she had a similar look on her face, now that she’d had a few days to slow down.
“What?” Tuss cracked an eye open when she sighed from sheer happiness.
She waved a hand over the scene. “I had a chocolate croissant for breakfast. The sun is shining. My boat is right there, and it’s completely unhurt.” Tuss knew her well enough not to comment that hurt was for humans and Serendipity was just a boat. He was one of the few people who understood that Serendipity was much more than just a boat. “You’re unhurt, too. We’re both here, in one piece.”
It would have been so easy to imagine an ugly alternative, but Tuss wound his fingers through hers, dispelling those thoughts.
“I like being in one piece. I like being with you,” he murmured. “No, wait. I love being with you.”
She blushed. They’d been pussyfooting around the L-word for the past couple of days while sneaking in subtle hints whenever they could. But she didn’t need to say it to know it. She loved him. And the way Tuss looked at her — the way he followed her with his eyes and held her hand when it wasn’t strictly necessary — well, he didn’t need to say it, either.
He rubbed a foot along her calf, and she closed her eyes to savor the contact. Last night, they’d fallen asleep wrapped around each other in Serendipity’s cozy forward cabin. This morning, they had woken the same way, but she still couldn’t get enough of his touch. She could spend a lifetime with Tuss and never get enough.
But damn, would a lifetime be nice.
“You think you can handle sticking around a while longer?” she ventured at last. They’d left so much unsaid over the past few days. What if she was thinking too far ahead? What if she was assuming too much?
When he cupped her cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb, she had her answer. “I’ll stick around for as long as you’ll have me, Mer.” His voice was hushed. Hopeful. “But if you want to be alone…”
She shook her head so vehemently, he laughed.
“I want you to stick around,” she said quickly. “The longer, the better.”
He ran a hand down her arm, clasped her fingers, and brought her knuckles to his lips. “The longer, the better,” he whispered, kissing her ring finger.
Her heart swelled and soared, and for a moment, she could have believed she was having an out-of-body experience. Was that really her, lying side by side with the perfect man on a perfect beach in the tropics?
Well, yes. Yes, it was.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everyth—”
He groaned, cutting her off. “I should thank you.”
“For what?”
“For finding that cave behind the waterfalls. For being an amazing sailor and outfoxing Tsareva. For letting me sail Serendipity with you.”
Letting him? She’d beg him if she had to.
They’d been through this conversation a few times already, and he always shoved the praise right back on her. So she gave up on reason and went for another form of persuasion. Snuggling closer, she kissed him. Lightly at first, then deeper. Before long, she was wiggling closer, wrapping a leg around his, and—
“Oops,” she murmured, dragging herself away.
Tuss arched an eyebrow. “Oops?” The man could express every possible emotion with the tiniest little gestures.
“We are in public.”
Part of her wished he’d say, To hell with it, and strip her there and then. After all, the beach was deserted, right?
Still, any of the locals could come along at any time, so it was a good thing Tuss was enough of a gentleman to keep her from completely losing her sense of propriety. Well, he was a gentleman most times. When she had him on the boat all to herself… Her body heated as she thought of all the ways he’d made love to her over the past few days.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stayed there a good, long time. Which was perfect, too. Just holding him quietly. Hugging. Knowing he wasn’t rushing off anywhere soon, and knowing she’d found her peace at last.
The morning after they’d arrived in Martinique, Tuss had slept in, but she’d risen early in spite of her weariness. She’d headed to the bow and sat hugging her knees exactly the way she used to on quiet mornings at anchor way back when on summer trips with her grandfather. And though the view was different, the feeling was the same. Peace blanketed everything, including her soul.
She’d sat on the bow for a good hour, thinking of Marco, examining her emotions a dozen times. Shouldn’t she feel guilty for not mourning him the day of the sixteenth? Shouldn’t she feel guilty about falling for another man?
She’d stared at the horizon for a few minutes, then shook her head.
No. The answer was no. She’d been taking her grandfather’s advice to heart.
Life can be beautiful, sweetheart. Make sure you let that joy in.
God, was she ready, not just to echo that message but to live it. The time she’d spent escaping criminals on Grenada, she’d also been letting go of the last threads of the past. The ghosts. The guilt. She was ready — really, truly ready — to live. To love. To trust herself.
And damn, did that feel good.
“How long are we allowed to stay here in Martinique?” she asked, though she knew perfectly well. It was the equivalent of pinching herself to check if anyone could be as lucky as her.
“Up to three months,”
Three months on a Caribbean island paradise overseen by reliable French police — all with a good man at her side. Heaven.
“Not that we have to stay here the entire time,” she hastened to add.
“The point is that we can,” Tuss said.
We. God, she loved the word we.
Tuss was right. They both had the time and enough savings to spend a season in the sun before transitioning to a life back on land.
“Not a care in the world, not a megayacht in sight,” she murmured, still processing her luck.
Tuss laughed. “Sounds like Tsareva’s not going anywhere fast. Neither is Andreiivich.”
According to the coconut grapevine, Andreiivich’s yacht had been impounded in Grenada while his connection to Duarez was investigated. Authorities had also uncovered documents aboard Tsareva related to a money-laundering scheme. Word had it that Andreiivich had fled Grenada by helicopter then caught the first flight back to Moscow.
“Moscow?” Tuss had chuckled when they’d first heard the news. “Not exactly a tropical paradise.”
Not like this, she couldn’t help thinking as a bird chirped overhead. Palms swayed in the breeze, and crystal-clear water lapped at the white sand.
“You sure he won’t come after us?”
Tuss flapped an unconcerned hand. “Andreiivich definitely has other things to worry about. I doubt we’re even a blip on his radar, what with all the incoming flak he has to deal with. No need to worry.” Tuss finger-combed her hair and looked into her eyes. And looked and looked, making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“We did it,” she whispered, shaking her head at their narrow escape.
Tuss shook his head. “You did it.”
There he went again, making her feel like Superwoman when she was just plain old her. She could practically feel the cape swish around her shoulders, sense the power course through her veins. Well, she sure sensed something coursing through her veins, though it might just be another shot of lust for the man who never failed to fascinate her.
Not lust, a little voice corrected her. Love.
And just like that, she worked up the courage to ask the question she hadn’t had the nerve to voice until now.
“After we’re done sailing…” Playing barefoot sailor in the Caribbean was one thing. The big question was afterward. Would Tuss ride off into his sunset while she rode off into hers?
“Come to Miami with me,” he said immediately, as if he’d been waiting for a chance to ask. “Stay with me.”
“Miami?” she asked in a neutral tone, as if her mind hadn’t already played out a thousand scenarios of settling down with him there.
“Miami. I start my new job in the fall. You could find work there, right?”
She nodded, knowing she could find work just about anywhere. That had played a big part in the little fantasies she’d been imagining lately, too. Living with Tuss, working in a small clinic — the kind that served customers who could pay and those who couldn’t — like she’d been dreaming of.
“I could,” she whispered, seeing it all in her mind. “Maybe not too far from where your job will be.”
“We could meet after work…” he added, fully on board with that fantasy, it seemed.
“We could keep Serendipity somewhere nearby and sail on the weekends…”
“You could travel with me when I take business trips to the islands…”
“It would be perfect,” she finished, then caught herself.
“What? Why do you look so guilty all of a sudden?”
She ran a hand down his bare chest. “Because it already is perfect. Because I already have so much.”
He laughed. “Yep. A croissant in your stomach, your boat right over there, the sun shining…”
Okay, so she’d been counting her luck aloud for the past few days — so much that Tuss had most of her little mantra memorized. But he’d left out the most important part.
“You.” She pointed to his chest. “I have you. That’s what counts.”
He hugged her, and the little kiss he popped on her lips grew into another lovefest that had them panting and flushed in two minutes flat.
“Oops,” he murmured, pulling away just when things were getting good. “We’re right back where we started.” Then he laughed that deep, musical laugh of his. “Maybe we ought to head back to the boat.”
“Definitely,” she said, rising slowly to her feet.
He looked up at her for a long minute with eyes that practically glowed — a look that said he couldn’t believe his luck — then took her hand and stood. He brushed the sand off her legs, then his, and walked with her to the water’s edge.
The sea faded from translucent to aquamarine to royal blue and finally to silver in the distance, where the horizon merged with the sky. White froth covered her feet as a wave rolled quietly in, and her skin tingled from its cool touch. She kept walking, holding Tuss’ hand, until she was waist-deep in water, where she stood quietly, taking it all in.
For the first time in her life, she knew exactly what she wanted to do, where she wanted to go, and who she wanted to be with. That rudderless feeling she’d lived with for years had drifted away like the husks of a coconut thrown to the tide. She felt free. Happy. More than alive.
Tuss slipped an arm over her shoulder and stood quietly beside her. “Not bad, eh?”
She shook her head and squeezed his hand. It took all the self-discipline she had not to drift away on thoughts of the wonderful life they could live together someday. Right now, there was no need to overthink things. Just to enjoy and appreciate.
“It’s perfect,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “Perfect.”
“So let’s go,” he said, starting to stroke toward the boat.
She watched him for a few seconds, biting her lip. A good man. A good boat. A promising future. She really had it all.
Tuss stopped to tread water and look back at her. Little drops of water trickled down his face, and the blue of his eyes was sunny and bright.
“Coming?”
“Coming,” she called, starting to swim. The sun shone on her back, and hope drew her forward. To Tuss. To Serendipity. To the future.
“Coming,” she murmured, smiling as she swam.
* * *
Thank you for reading this story! Adrift is the fourth and final Serendipity Adventure Romance – well, at least, for now it is! Make sure you’re signed up for my newsletter so you'll be the first to hear about new releases, exclusive stories, and great deals. And don’t despair – the theme of sailing, love, and tropical islands is echoed in another one of my books: Island Fantasies – click here for a sneak peek!
You’ll also enjoy reading about the inspiration for Adrift in the bonus materials section of my website, so please come and visit today!
Finally, if you enjoyed the story, could you please leave a review? Reviews help independent authors reach a wider audience and guide readers to stories they'll love. Thank you!
A note from the author
I hope you’ve enjoyed your adventure on Grenada, even if it all transpired within the pages of this book and not under the tropical sun. The inspiration for this story came from my own adventures in the Caribbean when I sailed a boat as modest as Serendipity and saw many megayachts as over-the-top as Tsareva – no exaggerations there! All my favorite island locations feature in this story, so if you’re tempted to book a vacation to Grenada, I can definitely recommend checking out Prickly Bay, Gouyave fish night, and the beautiful waterfall. Just don’t spend too much time searching behind the falls for a cave – that part was my imagination. But wouldn’t you love to hole up with a guy like Tuss there?
The only thing about Grenada I embellished for the purposes for this story was the corruption of the police. I’m sure they do their best! Otherwise, you’ll meet lots of proud, friendly, and helpful people, as you will throughout the islands of Caribbean.
I wish you a hearty bon voyage on your next armchair adventure romance or on your next trip to the Caribbean. Oh, wait! How about making that a gorgeous tropical island in the Pacific? I just happen to have a travel romance set on a remote, idyllic lagoon a short sail west of Bora Bora. It features a pretty little sailboat, a great heroine, a hero to die for, and… Well, why don’t you check it out for yourself? Turn the page for a sneak peek of Island Fantasies!
Sneak Peek: Island Fantasies
An Island Escapes Romance
Hannah Klein is living a fantasy in the South Pacific: swaying palms, sunny skies, and an aquamarine lagoon that puts travel posters to shame. In two weeks, she’s scheduled to set sail on the voyage of her dreams – hardly the time to be thinking “forever” about the guy she just met. So what if he happens to be sweet, soulful, and absolutely succulent? The closer they get, the more Hannah suspects that Kyle’s the one. But is any man worth trading in her dreams for?
Kyle Stanton has it all: a stellar career, an exciting life in New York – and a bet to win. He has to endure two weeks on remote Pacific island with no phone, no email, no Internet. He’s looking for distraction, not a long-term relationship. But there’s something special about Hannah, and Kyle can’t hold back. When the time comes to say goodbye, will he really be able to let her sail away?
Click here for more info or read on for a sneak peek of Island Fantasies.
Sneak Peek II
Island Fantasies, Chapter One
Maupiti, island paradise.
“Take Bora Bora, shrink it down, and take away the tourists.” That’s how his friend had described the place. “Just one craggy mountain and the South Pacific lagoon of your dreams.”
Paradise was an understatement, Kyle decided as he looked over the ferry railing and inhaled the view. A rainbow of greens and blues formed a moat around the sheer, volcanic peak that rose out of the island’s center. Maupiti was truly a castle in the sea.
It was gorgeous, like something out of a travel brochure. Hell, the whole poster, in panorama format and beyond. And that was the thing: this wasn’t just a picture, nor did it appear in any brochures or posters. Maupiti was a place fame had yet to visit or spoil. It was perfect.
The perfect place to sit out that silly bet — the one that insisted he could go two weeks without Internet, cell phone, email, or other electronic devices. Or couldn’t, depending whose perspective you took. His or his brother’s.
Okay, it was a little childish for a thirty-plus-year-old, but still. Two weeks in paradise! Kyle had to hand it to himself for finagling a bet that “stuck” him in the South Pacific while his brother held down the fort at the firm. Who was the winner there? Ha!
