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He blinks, stunned that I know. “Clarice, let me—”
“No. There’s nothing that will make me forgive you,” I shout, running down the hall toward the hotel emergency exit.
My bare feet slap against the sidewalk until I’m able to hail one of the bright blue tourist cabs that drive up and down the main drag. In the state I’m in, I’m grateful the driver isn’t someone I recognize, and he’s kind enough to let me run into my van to get his payment when we arrive at the beach.
Two days until this isn’t my home anymore. Why do I still want to sink into Brian’s arms to let him console me when he’s the cause of it all?
Shaking with anger and regret, I struggle into my swimsuit and yank my board from the shed. I don’t know how I make it to the water, barely glancing at the dark clouds rolling closer to the shore by the minute. I don’t care. I need the waves. I have to get away from this feeling that’s threatening to strangle me.
It’s not really anger or regret. It’s not even fear of losing the beach anymore.
It’s heartbreak that the man I just started to love has betrayed me.
And it’s fucking awful.
Chapter 8
Brian
Stunned at Clarice’s sudden change, I can only watch her run out the door. She must have overheard my conversation with my assistant and misunderstood. Well, not exactly misunderstood, because I did buy her beach. But she has to at least let me tell her why.
Is she worth all this?
I laugh bitterly at myself as I hurry to get a shirt and shoes on. Of course she is. I don’t know how, but for the first time in my life a woman has reached the part of me I thought was long gone. The part that used to enjoy a sunset and the feel of sand under his toes, completely in the current moment. The way she trusted me so completely last night crumbled the last of my defenses.
Am I going to lose a shitload of money on this deal? Yes. Do I care? No. I only care about Clarice.
She’s nowhere to be found when I get to the sidewalk outside the hotel, and driving slowly with my eyes peeled left and right, I can’t spot her. When I arrive at her beach, her van is locked up and empty and her little business isn’t set up in its place under the palm tree.
I head down toward the water, meaning to search every inch of the beach, even those filthy caves, until I find her. The storm clouds aren’t staying politely out at the horizon line, butrolling in with purpose. The shore is choppy and loud when I reach it, scanning the distance for a glimpse of yellow or the white of her surfboard.
And there she is, just a speck against the waves that are so dark they’re almost black now.
“Are you crazy?” I yell, though there’s no chance she can hear me. “Well, she’s my nutcase,” I say to myself, fists clenched with anxiety as I watch her catch one of the towering waves.
Pacing the shoreline, I wait for her to get close enough to catch her attention. I’ll wave my arms around, jump up and down, whatever it takes to get her to paddle in. She’s going to listen to me. I’m going to make her understand why I went through with the deal. Even through my fear for her safety, it’s a beautiful sight as she drops into the perfect curl the giant storm wave creates. She’s so damn talented. It’s glorious and my hands slowly uncurl while I wait and watch.
But the whitewater is catching up to her too quickly. Instead of bailing, she tries to outpace it until she’s utterly swallowed by the wave. My heart shoots up to my throat as I wait for her to surface from the total wipeout. Eyes jetting back and forth, I still don’t see her and my heartbeat seems to be a timer, speeding up with every second she doesn’t rise about the squall.
Kicking my shoes off and peeling my shirt over my head, I splash into the water, past the breakers to swim harder than I’ve ever swum before. It’s been years since I’ve done a rescue, but adrenaline takes over, every muscle fiber focused on saving Clarice. Something clunks me on the head and it’s her board, the leg leash snapped. With a huge breath I dive under, searching the cloudy water until I see the flash of yellow. She’s a pale figure in the murky darkness, her hair waving above her as she struggles to free her foot from a cluster of rocks.
Lungs burning, I make my way to her. When she sees me, she motions to me with wide, terrified eyes. She doesn’thave much air left, and neither do I. Her foot is bloody where it’s wedged between two big boulders. Another smaller one has fallen onto it and trapped her. Kicking it aside with all my might, she drifts free, but I see that her eyes are closed, tiny bubbles flowing from her nose.
Every instinct wants me to suck in a breath as I scream her name, losing the last bit of my air in my panic. She’s unconscious and we’re still several feet from the surface. I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her.
Gripping her around the waist, I shove off the rocks and we rise, finally crashing to the surface where I get a much needed breath. Exhausted, lungs and muscles aching, I still have so far to get her to shore.
“Don’t you dare,” I tell her as I pull her through the rough waters, one arm across her chest as I kick toward the shore. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
Dragging her onto the sand, I haul her onto her side and whack her on the back. She’s so still, silent, and pale. Just as I’m about to start CPR, she splutters and spits out murky water, then crawls onto her hands and knees and gets it all out as I rub her back.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I say when she lies back down, staring at the cloudy sky. Remembering that her foot was bleeding, I hurry to check it out. There’s a scratch over what will probably be a big bruise, but it’s not serious. Keeping my hand on her ankle, I let out a shudder of relief. She really is okay.
She rolls away from, pulling her knees to her chest. Not a word. She’s okay, but she’s still pissed at me.
“Clarice,” I say, touching her shoulder.
“Don’t,” she hisses. “Thank you for saving my life, but you can go now.”
