Chapter 4: Part 6

With ten steps to go the rain let loose, soaking both Delanie and her companion. Lightning turned the sky bright as thundered rumbled over the land. Wind lashed Delanie's hair, pulling at her ponytail.



They ran into the house through the French doors bringing palm leaves with them. She looked at the mess on the floor and then turned to the man with her. Why couldn't she remember his name? Maybe it was the stress. It would come to her.



"I need to close all the windows."



"You got shutters?" He asked.



"I didn't even think of those."



"It's raining hard. Wind too. I'll take care of them," he said.



"You'll get too wet."



"But you might lose a window."



"Damn, it's too much to ask. You'll get soaked."



The guy shrugged. "Only with water."



"Okay, I'll get the windows, you get the shutters."



Delanie raced through the rooms, making sure all the windows were closed. In the spare bedroom she pulled a pair of shorts and a t-shirt out of the dresser. They might be a bit big, but they should fit her mystery guest.



A shutter banged loud against the side of the house. She looked up and screamed. It was only her sopping wet helper. If only she could remember his name. She'd have to ask. This wasn't a situation where she could just plug away and pretend to know the guys name just to ask her assistant later. Not that she hadn't been listening when he told her his name, she had. But why couldn't she recall what he said.



Delanie grabbed a change of clothes for herself and four towels. Just as she entered the den the man burst into the room. His clothes looked spray painted on, detailing every sculpted angle and bulging muscle.



"I only closed the shutters on the side where the wind was the worst."



Delanie moved towards the guy, aware of every movement of his body. He grabbed a towel from her and started scrubbing at his hair. She swallowed over the lump forming in her throat.



Shake out of it. He's just a guy.



"Thanks, bit wet out there."



She tore her gaze away from his chest, "I'm sorry, but I forgot your name."



He looked up, catching her off guard with the intensity of his glare. "Haven't had that happen too many times. I'm Samuel Taylor. Call me Sam."



Delanie felt heat creeping up her neck. She busied herself with throwing the extra towels down on the floor and moping up the mess.



Sam bent to his knees, his head level with hers. "Here, let me help."



For a moment, Delanie felt as though she were in the middle of a bad romantic drama. They only needed to have the sweeping music cued up. She felt ridiculous.



A crack of thunder made Delanie jump and bump into Sam sending him tumbling to the ground. His hand snaked out, grasping for a hold. It latched onto her shirt and pulled her with him.



Suddenly she was on top of him, her breasts squished against his chest. Their eyes locked for a moment, just long enough to transmit some primitive desire that two wet bodies couldn't help but send out. Maybe it was the rain, or the beach, or maybe it was the fact that she hadn't slept with a man in almost a year.



Sure, she'd dated Rhye Hamilton and everyone thought they were in the sack from day one, but not true. Delanie had been willing but Rhye held her off. Then when he was ready, she'd decided waiting was best.



Ultimately he couldn't put off raging hormones, his description of how he ended up in bed with another. For a nano-second Delanie felt like boffing this practical stranger would be the best revenge, but her brain went into overdrive weighing all the potential problems. Besides, she wasn't like that.



She pushed off his rock hard chest, noticing the way his eyes followed her every move. Her breath hitched and his gaze shot up to hers. If this were a movie, Delanie knew that the next cut scene would be the two of them in bed. Real life was different. She barely knew the guy. He could be some deranged lunatic for all she knew.



"I have clothes for you." Delanie turned to the chair where she had tossed the shirt and shorts. "They should come close to fitting."



"Husband's stuff?"



Delanie swung back around, wondering if they guy knew whom she was? "No, I'm not married."



His right eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly. "Got a bathroom to change in."



Her throat was dry, stealing her voice. "Sure, down the hall, first door on the left."



Delanie finished mopping up the floor and took the towels back to the washing machine. She had yet to run the thing and wondered if starting a load in the middle a storm was a wise idea. After too many seconds thinking about Sam and how solid his muscles had felt under her, she tossed the towels onto the top of the machine and vowed to do laundry in the morning.



"They fit." Sam stood in the hallway, his face in the shadows, his hulking form taking up most of the space. The house was lovely, but the hall leading back to the washroom could best be described as tiny. Sam almost had to duck so he didn't rub his head against the ceiling.



"I'll wash your clothes once the storm stops. I'm not sure there is enough power to run them now." He gave her a quizzical look, and she felt the need to explain. "Solar power."



"Ahh, so you live out here long?"



"What? No, I don't live here. Just needed a break from real life."



"Know what you mean."



"Really?" Delanie knew the man's body was hot, but she'd never seen him in any of the ads or on a catwalk. He didn't have that insecure, yet false confidence male actors and models wore like a second skin.



"So, I can pay you back, but I would love to have some beef."



"No need to pay. Let me see what I've got."



Sam followed her into the kitchen and stood off to the side. "Could you check the pantry for rice? I think I have a sirloin."



He looked a little uncomfortable, like he hadn't been in a kitchen for a while. She stared as he read the back of the rice box.



"You cook much?"



"Not until recently. Now I cook everything for myself. But everything is really just fish I catch off the back of my boat."



"Fish is good. I've tried to learn cooking. I don't get much of a chance to practice though. This week has been fun. I do have to admit to burning a few dishes."



"I've had to throw a few overly chard fish back into the sea. Got the hang of it now."



"Want to help?"



"Sure, though don't expect miracles."



"No problem."



Delanie felt a companionship with this stranger that she'd never felt with Rhye. They moved around the kitchen in harmony. She needed the salt and he was there, saltshaker in hand. Their movements were graceful, no bumping into each other, but there were moments when he slid close to her and his arm rubbed up against hers. Or she had to squeeze by and her body pressed into his, leaving her wondering if she should go lock herself in her room for his safety and not come out until he was gone.



* * * *



Sam sat at the table, surveying the remains of their late dinner. He'd been amazed at the amount of food they had both consumed. Of course he ate twice as much as she, but she hadn't been shy. He liked that. The steak, rice, and potatoes had been such a welcome difference from fish caught from the sea that he'd stuffed his belly.



"Ahh, I made a pig of myself," he said.



"No more than I."



"I almost forgot that the storm raged outside."



"It sounds like it's almost over."



"Yeah, I guess I should help you clean the place up and then go down to my boat. If you don't mind, I'll spend the night in the lagoon."



"No." Her face turned a beautiful shade of pink. "I mean–- it's okay if you sleep with me." Her face went from pink to red. "Goodness, that's not what I meant. I would like for you to stay here. It's still raining out, and I haven't cleaned your clothes." She jumped up from the table and began stacking dishes.



"It's too much to ask. I don't want you to feel obligated."



"Okay, stay for me please. I'm used to having people around. I wanted to have a fun vacation where I could relax. Don't get me wrong, I like the privacy, but I need to talk to someone, especially tonight."



"Really?"



"The storm and all."



"I guess I can't say no."



Delanie ran a sink of water and washed the dishes in silence. She dipped the last plate into the soapy water, rinsing all the bubbles away. She spent a long time rinsing the last dish, glancing up at him as she worked. "I'm surprised you haven't said anything."



"About what?"



"You really don't know who I am?"



"No, and you don't know who I am?"



She squinted, sizing him up. No recognition showed on her face. "No clue."



He smiled, this might just be the best experience he had with a woman since he started making money at the age of twelve. "How about you keep your identity secret, and I'll do the same with mine."



"You already know my name, and my identity isn't a total secret, but I'm game if you are."



"Well, Ms. Delanie, I would love to spend the evening with you, as long as we don't talk about who we were or who knows us."



She giggled, "This could be the best date I've ever had."



"How about cards. You play cards, right?"



"I know poker."



Thoughts of her stripping off her clothes as she lost made his blood strike hot. "What are we playing for?"



"Pretzels."



A second of disappointment shocked his system. "That would be safe."



"Ha, don't think I didn't know what you were thinking."



"I'm not thinking anything inappropriate."



"Sure. Help me find the cards. Just open any drawers in here. If we don't find any cards I'm sure we'll find something else interesting to do."



Sam watched her open one drawer after another. She was thinking about sex too. He wouldn't push it though. It was refreshing to find a woman who didn't want to jump in the sack with him the moment they met.



Copyright Sara Thacker 2011