Moonlight and Margaritas Page 8

  A school of jacks swished past him as he descended toward his group. Wielding absolutely no control over his desire to ignore Elena, he searched for her black and purple wetsuit and found her amongst the crowd. He forced his gaze away. He needed to stop looking at her, stop thinking about her, and most of all, stop wanting her.

  The first thing he'd do after this excursion would be to take an ice cold shower, and the second would be to go to Mojitos and find another sweet-looking woman to erase Elena's fingerprints from his body.

  He had no doubt he'd be able to accomplish this task. He just had to survive until then.

  The group had split into two, with Mercedes and three guys dropping down to the ocean floor next to the wreck, while Elena's group swam on a little farther around the side of the vessel. He opted for the closest party, avoiding temptation.

  After letting his group explore the area surrounding the wreck, he pointed out a small opening on the side of the ship that had probably cracked open as the fishing boat hit the ocean floor. The small group gathered around with interest. He removed the dive light he kept attached to his belt and turned it on, shining the beam into the interior of the decrepit vessel. Mercedes squeezed in next to him, peering inside the hole. Just as she was about to fully stick her head inside the opening, a school of black and white moorish idols cruised out. Mercedes stumbled backward, obviously surprised. She glanced at him and nodded with delight.

  He swept his hand in front of the opening to the boat, indicating to Mercedes she and the others could explore inside. She moved forward as though to enter and then whipped her head to the left, her eyes behind her goggles going wide.

  Joe turned to see what had startled her.

  He spotted Elena already a good fifteen feet above him, kicking for the surface, ascending much too fast for his comfort. He immediately followed her, cursing the fact that they were under water and he couldn't yell at her to slow down and be careful.

  Luckily, she was smart enough to stop near the twenty foot level to decompress. Not only did it protect her from the bends, it gave him a chance to catch up.

  He grasped her shoulder, and she turned to him, urgency flashing in her eyes. He made a hand gesture to ask her if she was okay. She shook her head "no" and held out her palm. He tried to take hold of it, but she jerked it away, shook her head again. She gestured down her arm with a frantic wave of her hand.

  The water diminished the sunlight from above, making it hard to clearly see her arm. Before he could make another attempt to figure out the problem, she kicked upward. He reached out to stop her, but missed.

  Shit. He checked his gauges, then looked upward toward Elena who had almost reached the surface. Even though they hadn't descended too deep with this dive, they both needed more time to decompress. Shit. Shit. Shit. With as often as he dove, he couldn't afford to ignore the safety limits. He already had an elevated nitrogen level from his dive the previous day, and he and Elena had both consumed alcohol the night before. All of which warned him he needed to use extreme caution to avoid decompression sickness. He needed, at a minimum, another ten minutes at this depth, or he'd likely be bubbling. He could only guess at how Elena's rapid ascent would affect her, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be good.

  He inhaled through his regulator and tried to slow his heart rate, but he couldn't get the look of her panic out of his mind. What the hell could have set her off like that?

  He simmered for another minute before he cracked. Screw it. He couldn't stay down here, under water, not knowing if she was okay or not. He kicked for the surface, praying that he wouldn't get a serious case of the bends.

  He broke free from the false serenity of the waters of the Sea of Cortez and hauled himself on deck. Elena, still clad in her diving gear, leaned forward on a bench while Paul inspected her arm.

  Joe ripped off his goggles and strode forward, ditching his air tank on the way. "What the hell?" Paul and Elena both glanced up at the same time.

  * * *

  Elena held back the tears that were determined to surface as she bit down on the burning pain searing the exposed flesh on her left arm and hand. The last thing she needed to hear right now was Joe scolding her.

  "Jellies." Paul set her hand on her lap and stood. "I'll get the first aid kit."

  "Shit," Joe mumbled beneath his breath as he dropped to the deck, kneeling in front of her. He ignored her hand and arm, focusing on her face. "How's your breathing?"

  "What?" It was hard to focus on breathing when it felt like she'd just been stung by a thousand wasps. She inhaled a slow breath, then exhaled. "It's okay."

  Joe cursed again, before sending a weighty sigh her way. "Have you ever heard of a little thing called decompression sickness? I thought you said you were certified for open water. Are you experiencing any tingling or numbness? Dizziness or joint pain?" He paused his rant long enough for her to shake her head. "What the hell were you thinking?"

  She closed her eyes, trying to focus through the pain and form a coherent response. "I know about the bends. I was watching my gauges."

  "Not well enough from my perspective. You could have damn-well landed yourself in the hospital."

  She glared at him. She didn't need a lecture. "Right now, I couldn't care less about your perspective." Her arm began to itch, and it was all she could do not to rip off her skin. "Just go away and leave me alone." She ran her nails up her arm, experiencing a flash of relief followed by more pain.

  Joe grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Don't scratch. If you still have stingers in you, it will release more poison."

  Thomas picked that unfortunate moment to climb aboard and hurry to her side. "Jellyfish got her. I saw them. Little iridescent bastards."

  Joe stood, facing him. "We've got it handled, Thomas. The best thing you can do is take a seat."

  "Shouldn't you pee on her or something?"

  Elena jerked her head up, focusing first on Joe, then Thomas. "Do it and die." Excitement faded from Thomas's eyes.

  "We don't need urine. We're equipped with something a little more sanitary." Joe put a hand on Thomas's shoulder and gave him a little shove. "As captain of this boat, I'm asking you to take a seat and let me and my staff handle the situation."

  "Fine. Whatever." Thomas gave a jerky nod and went to sit on a nearby bench where he began removing his gear, still eyeing them.

  "Thank God," Elena mumbled when Paul returned with a white metal box. She didn't need two men posturing over her. A little medical attention would suffice.

  Paul dropped the first aid kit to the deck with a clatter and started rummaging through it. "Don't worry, ma'am, we've got some stuff that will help."

  "Please, hurry," she whispered through gritted teeth. The raised red welts across the exposed area on her hands and lower arms burned like nothing she'd ever experienced.

  Joe gently slipped off her air tank before facing her again. He tilted her chin up, searching her face. Worry creased his forehead. "You'll be fine."

  She couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

  Mercedes was next to board the boat, followed by the rest of the gang. Her friend rushed forward. "Oh, my God, Elena. Are you all right?"

  "I'm okay," she answered, but when Joe stepped between them, another wave of gratitude for his intuitive kindness washed over her. She couldn't deal with Mercedes and her drama right now.

  "Elena's going to be fine." Joe took Mercedes's arm and tried to turn her away.

  "What happened to her?" Mercedes squirmed in his grasp as the others gathered for a better look.

  Paul sprayed some heavenly fluid over Elena's arm that smelled like vinegar and eased her pain considerably. A lengthy sigh escaped her lips as some of the tension eeked from her body. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Joe drew his arms wide and stepped toward the group, forcing them all to take a step back. "Stung by jellyfish. Now, please, give us some room."

  Mercedes gripped his arm. "Dios mio. Aren't they deadly?"

>   "Is this helping?" Paul whispered to Elena as he sprayed her once again, and she nodded, unbelievably grateful for his help. Her arm still burned, but it was much more tolerable now. He sprinkled some powder over all the stings and sprayed it once more, leaving a pasty mess on her skin. He followed up by creating more paste in the palm of his hand and dabbing more on her worst welts.

  "No, this type's not deadly," Joe answered Mercedes. "Painful, but not deadly." When her friend tried to step around him, he gently took her arm and led her toward Liam. "The best thing you can do is give us some space so we can help her. You could also start stowing your gear. Since you've all resurfaced from your dive, I recommend that we call it a day."

  When the group backed away, Joe knelt on the deck, pushing wet strands of hair away from Elena's face. "Doing okay?"

  Elena released a shaky breath. His concern touched her and made her nervous at the same time. "A little better."

  "I hear ya. I've had my own personal encounters with the damn beasts."

  She relaxed a little more, feeling like she might actually survive. "I didn't see them until they were right in front of me. I tried to avoid them, but then they were around me, and…"

  "It happens." He turned to Paul. "I'm going to take Elena into the wheelhouse to finish this. Why don't you help the guests with their gear, and then we'll get underway."

  Joe lifted the first aid kit and then held out an elbow to her. She gripped his biceps and pulled herself to her feet. Holding on to his warm flesh made her feel safe, and she didn't let go until they were inside.

  The wheelhouse was shaded from the bright sun and considerably quieter than the deck. Despite her discomfort, she couldn't help noticing this was the first time they'd been alone since their encounter, and the incessant sexual pull he had on her hadn't diminished in the slightest.

  "Have a seat." Joe indicated a soft, leather chair along the side, and she sank into the plush seat. He set the first aid kit on the table next to her and removed a small plastic card. Lifting her arm, he inspected it and began to scrape the paste from her skin, exposing the bright red welts. His fingers were firm against the underside of her forearm, and despite the circumstances, she enjoyed his touch.

  He shifted his gaze between her and his task. "The paste Paul put on helps neutralize the toxins from the nematocysts so they don't release more poison when I remove them."

  She watched his mouth as he talked, waiting for the words which would showcase his dimples. "How long is this going to hurt?"

  "The pain doesn't last too long. It's the itching that's going to haunt you." He finished scraping her skin and then cleaned the area with an antiseptic wipe.

  "Am I good?" she asked, wondering if he'd finished his ministrations.

  His gaze flew to hers, a hint of humor sparkled in his eyes. "Yes. You are definitely good."

  Her cheeks heated. She should have recognized that was a loaded question. "I didn't mean it like that."

  He chuckled. "I know what you meant." He reached out and grasped the zipper on her wetsuit and slid it down a couple of inches. "Why don't you let me help you get out of this?"

  "Um, wow." That was an unexpected, yet not unwelcome shift in demeanor. She loved this flirtatious side of him so much more than the cool persona she'd been dealing with all day. "You go from doctor to flirt in no time flat."

  "Actually, I'm still playing doctor." He slid his lips into a slow, easy smile. "As soon as you're out of this suit, I have some cream that will help with the itching."

  She smiled back, knowing that he'd purposefully led her down that seductive road, knowing she'd take the bait and follow him. After all, the previous evening had been filled with similar conversations. "Then by all means, let me strip for you, doctor." Two could play that game.

  He widened his eyes and nodded. "By all means."

  She rolled her eyes and then caught his gaze as she reached for her zipper. The longing inside her was like dry tinder and caught fire with one look of his smoldering gaze. She slid the zipper slowly down past her breasts, inching her way across her stomach. He followed her movements, looking like he was devouring each new stretch of skin she bared. By the time she reached the top of her bikini bottom, she was more than a little turned on.

  She slid her wetsuit off one shoulder and down her arm, keeping her gaze focused on him, not sure where this little game of flirtation would lead, though if asked, she did have a few ideas. Reaching for the opposite shoulder, she tugged the fabric and then gasped as the stretchy neoprene tightened over the long, snaking welts on her arm. She couldn't stop her expletive.

  "See why you need me?" He grinned and took hold of the neoprene, helping to ease her arm out of the suit. But he didn't stop there. He slipped his arms around her waist, tugging the black and purple fabric over her hips and down her legs, sending goosebumps racing over her bare skin. When she stepped out of her suit, he picked it up and handed it to her.

  "Thank you," she managed, wishing she didn't sound so breathless.

  "Anytime." He hesitated, his heated gaze searing a path down her body, before he turned from her as though he had no idea of the effect he had on her. He removed a tube from the first aid kit and began to slather white cream on her arm. His fingers slipped over her skin bringing relief and a yearning to touch him at the same time.

  "You're going to want to take this cream with you." He stopped rubbing, put the lid on the tube and handed it to her. He cleared his throat before continuing. "These stings are going to itch pretty bad for the next couple of days."

  "Okay." She accepted the medicine and then waited, expecting him to say something else. Instead, he busied himself by cleaning the plastic card he'd used to scrape her arm and by tossing the wrappings from the antiseptic wipe into the trash.

  "Thanks for your help." She stood, hoping he'd continue their conversation so she wouldn't have to leave.

  "You're welcome." He didn't look at her. "If you're feeling okay, you probably ought to gather your stuff. We'll be heading for port in just a few minutes." His shift from sexy playboy back to reserved diving guide confused her. A minute ago, she was sure he was mere seconds from kissing her, and now he'd suddenly turned cool again.

  Maybe it was for the best. Neither of them wanted complications, and this thing had already exceeded the limits of a one-night stand.

  She gathered her wetsuit without replying and headed back out on deck.

  * * *

  Shit. Joe turned over the engine on his boat, giving Paul and the guests the signal that they'd be moving soon. What the hell was he doing flirting with Elena like that? He'd fallen back under her spell without even realizing it. He really needed to meet someone new.

  They'd had their fling. It was time to move on. He didn't need to be smacked upside the head with a marlin to know he was treading in dangerous waters. He was attracted to her just a little more than was healthy for his current lifestyle plans, and that was exactly how his relationship with his last girlfriend had started.

  That had to stop. Now.

  Then again, maybe he should be patting himself on the back. He'd been sorely tempted by Elena, but ultimately, he hadn't caved. Things might have been a little dicey a few moments ago, but he'd extricated himself before he'd been sucked in too far. He'd maintained control. He was the man.

  Damn good thing he was headed to Mojitos later on.

  * * *

  The boat rocked with each wave as Elena headed toward the wheelhouse. Joe had pulled into Cabo's marina several minutes ago, giving her plenty of time to gather her gear and wait to see if he'd help his guests disembark. Paul had assisted everyone instead. She'd lingered on deck long enough to realize he was avoiding her. Too bad. She didn't want to leave without saying a final goodbye.

  As she hovered at the door of the wheelhouse, she found Joe and Paul standing just inside, both of them stripped of their diving gear and bare-chested. Joe glanced up, his expression not unfriendly, but definitely wary.

  Elena sm
iled anyway. "Thanks for an amazing experience today, at least most of the time. I'll always remember it."

  Joe and Paul both nodded. "You're welcome," Joe said. "Are you doing okay? If you'd like, Paul can drive you to the medical clinic so a doc can look at you."

  She shook her head. "I'm okay. Thanks to both of you. Plus, the cream is really helping with the itching."

  "Good."

  Elena glanced between the two men, more nervous than she'd been before she'd talked to Joe for the first time the previous night. "Would it be possible to speak to you alone?" she asked Joe.

  Paul widened his eyes as though it just registered to him that he might be hampering their conversation. "Oh, uh, yeah. I gotta do something anyway." The teenager hurried around the corner of the wheelhouse and out of sight.

  Joe raised his brows. "Something I can help you with?"

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Elena exhaled a pent up breath. "I don't understand this whole hot and cold thing that's going on between us. One minute you don't want me on your boat, but you don't like any other men near me, either. You ignore me, then you tend to me. You flirt with me, then you turn away."

  Joe stiffened under her pointed stare. "I treated you like I would any other guest."

  "Really?" That was a big, fat lie.

  He shrugged. "Yeah."

  The boat bobbed, and she grabbed the door for support. He obviously wasn't about to own his actions. "So, there's nothing between us other than a great one-night stand?"

  "No." He folded his arms across his chest. "Right? I mean that's what we both wanted."

  "That's what I thought, but that doesn't explain this uncomfortable wall between us."

  "What wall?"

  "Come on. Admit it. You have your guard up."

  He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. Then opened it again. "What do you want from me, Elena?" He held his hands wide, an expression of confusion on his face.