Page 41 of Suzanna's Surrender
“It does the job.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
Her heart gave a quick jolt. “I really don’t—”
“Let’s go for a ride.”
She blinked. “A ride?”
“In the boat. We’ve got a couple of hours before dark.”
“A ride in the boat,” she said, unaware that she amused him with her long, relieved sigh. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” He took her hand and pulled her to the pier. “You cast off.” When the dog jumped in beside him, Suzanna realized this was an old routine. For a man who didn’t want to appear to have any sentiment, it was a telling thing that he took a dog along for company when he set out to sea.
The engine roared to life. Holt waited only until Suzanna had climbed on board before he headed into the bay.
The wind slapped against her face. Laughing, she clapped a hand to her cap to keep it from flying off. After she’d pulled it on more securely, she joined him at the wheel.
“I haven’t been out on the water in months,” she shouted over the engine.
“What’s the use of living on an island if you never go out on the water?”
“I like to watch it.”
She turned her head and caught the bright glint of window glass from the secluded houses on Bar Island. Overhead gulls wheeled and screamed. Sadie barked at them then settled on the boat cushions with her head on the side so that the wind could send her ears flying.
“Has she ever jumped out?” Suzanna asked him.
He glanced back at the dog. “No. She just looks stupid.”
“You’ll have to bring her by the house again. Fred hasn’t been the same since he met her.”
“Some women do that to a man.” The salt breeze was carrying her scent to him, wrapping it around his senses so that he drew her in with every breath. She was standing close, braced against the boat’s motion. The expression in her eyes was still far off and troubled, and he knew she wasn’t thinking of him. But he thought of her.
He moved expertly through the bay traffic, keeping the speed slow and steady as he maneuvered around other boats, passed a hotel terrace where guests sat under striped umbrellas drinking cocktails or eating an early dinner. Far to starboard, the island’s three-masted schooner streamed into port with its crowd of waving tourists.
Then the bay gave way to the sea and the water became less serene. The cliffs roared up into the sky. Arrogantly, defiantly, The Towers sat on its ridge overlooking village and bay and sea. Its somber gray stone mirrored the tone of the rain clouds out to the west. Its old, wavy glass glinted with fanciful rainbows. Like a mirage, there were streaks and blurs of color that were Suzanna’s garden.
“Sometimes when I went lobstering with my father, I’d look up at it.” And think of you. “Castle Calhoun,” Holt murmured. “That’s what he called it.”
Suzanna smiled, shading her eyes with the flat of her hand as she studied the imposing house on the cliffs. “It’s just home. It’s always been home. When I look up at it, I think of Aunt Coco trying out some new recipe in the kitchen and Lilah napping in the parlor. The children playing in the yard or racing down the stairs. Amanda sitting at her desk and working her meticulous way through the mounds of bills it takes to hold a home together. C.C. diving under the hood of the old station wagon to see if she could make a miracle happen and get one more year out of the engine. Sometimes I see my parents laughing at the kitchen table, so young, so alive, so full of plans.” She turned around to keep the house in sight. “So many things have changed, and will change. But the house is still there. It’s comforting. You understand that or you wouldn’t have chosen to live in Christian’s cottage, with all his memories.”
He understood exactly, and it made him uneasy. “Maybe I just like having a place on the water.”
Suzanna watched Bianca’s tower disappear before she shifted to face him. “Sentiment doesn’t make you weak, Holt.”
He frowned out over the water. “I could never get close to my father. We came at everything from different directions. I never had to explain or justify anything I felt or wanted to my grandfather. He just accepted. I guess I figured there was a reason he left me the place when he died, even though I was only a kid.”
It moved her in a very soft, very lovely way that he had shared even that much with her. “So you came back to it. We always come back to what we love.” She wanted to ask him more, what his life had been like during the span of years he’d been away. Why he had turned his back on police work to repair boat motors and props. Had he been in love, or had his heart broken? But he hit the throttle and sent the boat streaking out over the wide expanse of water.
He hadn’t come out to think deep thoughts, to worry or to wonder. He had come to give her, and himself, an hour of relaxation, a respite from reality. Wind and speed worked that particular miracle for him. It always had. When he heard her laugh, when she tossed her face up into the sun, he knew he’d chosen well.
“Here, take the wheel.”
It was a challenge. She could hear the dare in his voice, see it in his eyes when he grinned at her. Suzanna didn’t hesitate but took his place at the helm.
She gloried in the control, in the power vibrating under her fingertips. The boat sliced through the water like a blade, racing to nowhere. There was only sea and sky and unlimited freedom. The Atlantic roughened, adding a dash of danger. The air took on a bite that shivered along the skin and made each breath a drink of icy wine.
