Landon took my hand to help me onto the main deck and didn’t let go as we headed inside. I should have shaken him off, but I liked the feel of him. He was so strong, so solid. I swore it wouldn’t have surprised me if he was bullet proof. “Did you ever get shot in the army?” I asked, remembering the scar I saw the first night we were together.
He dropped my hand and guided me into the saloon with his palm in the small of my back. “A couple of times,” he said, as if he was telling me he’d been to Amsterdam for the weekend.
“Wow, really? Was it serious?”
He shrugged.
All the rich men I was around in yachting had little to say but spent all their time talking. Landon seemed to have plenty to say but no inclination to share it with me, though I got the impression it wasn’t personal. He wasn’t the sort of person to share stuff. And that made me want to know him even more.
“You ever shoot anyone?” I wasn’t sure what I wanted him to say. The idea of anyone shooting a gun . . . it was something I’d never come to terms with.
He smiled at me as I glanced up at him. “Skylar, I was in the army.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about guns,” I said almost to myself. If my mom had carried a gun, she might still be alive.
“You can’t have an army without weapons. That’s just how it is.”
“I guess. But have you ever killed anyone?” I asked.
“Stop asking me questions I can’t answer. I might have to kiss you to shut you up.”
I bit down on my lip to stop the grin that threatened to take over my face. If he tried to kiss me, I might not stop him, which would be the beginning of a potential disaster.
“There will be no kissing,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. My resolve was weakening. I didn’t want him to put it under any more strain. I needed some time away from him, time to remind myself of all the reasons why Landon kissing me would be a terrible idea. It wasn’t kissing in isolation that was the issue; it was all the places it could lead. And those places were nowhere I wanted to go. I’d been to the place where peoples’ hearts ruled their heads. Where passion overruled reason, and although in books and movies it seemed like utopia, I knew it to be the exact opposite.
“Can’t answer or won’t?” I asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from our lips.
“Does it matter?” His hand dropped from my back, and he nodded toward the crew mess.
“Friends share things. They talk. And you told me we were friends, so is there anything you’ll tell me about yourself?”
He slid onto the banquette as I stood in front of the coffee maker, fiddling with the filter. “People’s characters are more interesting to me than facts about their lives,” he said.
“But doesn’t one influence the other? What has happened to people forms who they are, and who they are influences things that happen to them.”
When I didn’t get a response, I glanced over my shoulder to see Landon staring at me. “You’re a constant source of surprise to me,” he said, getting up from the table and walking toward me. I stepped away from him, but my ass hit the counter and he closed the gap. “But I have to get to bed.” He was leaving? He dipped his head and pressed a kiss on the top of my head like he had done before when he’d helped me clear up. It was a protective kiss. A kiss from someone who knew I didn’t want to be kissed. That I couldn’t be.
Couldn’t, I reminded myself.
But he’d only just sat down. “You don’t want coffee?”
“A little too much, I think,” he replied. “But I’ll make do with a cold shower.” He held my gaze and then turned and headed to our sleeping quarters. “Goodnight, my sage, sexy friend.”
I smiled.
Shit, I shouldn’t be smiling.
I abandoned the misbehaving coffee machine and grabbed a glass of water. I needed to sober up. I had to deal with the reality of life rather than fall into some Landon-soaked fantasy. He’d done the right thing—for both of us—when he’d gone to bed. We’d already admitted to the attraction between us. That was bad enough. This time of night, with the warm breeze, the lights of the distant shore, and his increasingly rough beard, things between us were verging on dangerous.
I wouldn’t end up like my mother. I didn’t want her life or her death. And so I had to shake off the thoughts of Landon, the feel of him, the way I liked being with him. I wouldn’t be a victim of love or passion—the things that had killed my mother. That wasn’t my future.
Sixteen
Skylar
The sun was creeping up in the sky as if it were slowly stretching and opening its eyes, and the water was completely still, like ice on a lake. The hustle and bustle of the day on the Med hadn’t yet begun. It felt as if I was the only person in the world who was awake, and it was a beautiful morning, which was precisely why I didn’t mind the early shift.
Best of all, it was quiet. Apart from whoever was on the bridge, no one else was up. No clatter of pans from the galley, no laughing guests, no announcements over the radio. I glanced at my watch. The peace wouldn’t last more than another ten minutes, but it would keep me going for the rest of the day.