Fateful Waters Read online

  He was more than happy to play her lady’s maid. She’d managed to unfasten the top four of the endless row of tiny buttons. What had held the promise of a little foreplay, in the form of disrobing Lexie for the first time, turned into a frustrating ordeal.

  “Christ! How did you get into this gown?”

  “I had to step into it so I wouldn’t mess my hair.”

  Okay, she is not operating at anything close to normal yet. “I was referring to the half million buttons.”

  “Mom fastened them.”

  Eve’s smaller fingers probably made quick work of what he was finding a major undertaking. He supposed she would object if he just ripped the rest of them off to get to the enticing back being exposed in the painfully slow process. Finally, he completed the task.

  “Thank you, I think I can manage from here.”

  He was going nuts waiting for her to remove her arm from the tight-fitting sleeve, so he retired to the bathroom to remove his shirt and clean up a bit. A shave wouldn’t hurt either, he decided, running his hand over his chin. When he returned with much anticipation, but in much better control of his burgeoning lust, he found her passed out, sprawled across the bed. Her gown was still in her hand; the effort of working her way out of it must have wiped her out. Once more he played her attendant and hung her gown in the garment bag with the dressmaker’s logo on it.

  Cutter talked to her, kissed the nape of her neck, and resorted to trying to shake her awake. Nothing. She didn’t move a muscle. It brought back the scenes in the hospital when she was comatose and on life support. He consoled himself by working on the puzzle of undoing her hairdo and removing the woven string of pearls. Loosening her braids gave him the pleasure of putting his fingers in her long silky hair. He picked her up to move her limp form to one side of the bed, pulled back the covers before moving her to the opposite side, and then covering her. He was not about to remove her slip or the lacy lingerie visible beneath. He wanted her, but he wanted her aware and participating. On his first night as a husband, he consoled himself with holding his new wife in his arms while they slept.

  The next morning, she was still dead to the world. “Come on, Lex, move it or we are going to miss the boat!” As was his habit, Cutter rose before dawn, showered, packed what he had brought with him, and ordered breakfast from room service to allow her to sleep it off. He informed her breakfast had arrived, and this time punctuated it with a playful crack on her butt. That got a reaction; she came up swinging.

  “Breakfast is here. But if you don’t get a move on, you’re not going to have time to eat it before we have to go.”

  Lexie sat up and tried to focus on the strange, rolling room. It didn’t look familiar to her, but she assumed they’d spent the night here. Cutter was already dressed and working on a cup of coffee. Head thumping like an evil blacksmith was using her pickled brain for an anvil she walked softly across the carpet toward the bathroom to avoid aggravating it, or her rebelling stomach. She bypassed the food for the moment, gathered her overnight case and clean undergarments.

  “Remind me never to touch champagne in the future.”

  “You can count on it.”

  “Cutter, how should I dress? You never said what we were doing today.”

  “We are going for a boat ride, assuming we don’t miss it.”

  By the time she got cleaned up and dressed, the bellman was there to collect their luggage. She stuffed the clothes she slept in into the zipper pocket on the front of the largest piece of luggage, gulped down her orange juice, took a couple of bites of cold eggs, and then decided to bypass them and the equally cold bacon. While Cutter was checking out, she spotted the complementary continental breakfast offerings. She put a couple of Danish cheese pastries on a napkin, filled a paper cup from the coffee dispenser, poured in three little containers of half and half, capped her cup, and rejoined Cutter.

  The trip to Sandusky took a little over an hour and a half. The ibuprofen she’d taken once she’d unwrapped one of the glasses on the little tray in the bathroom was finally kicking in. Her stomach was easing, too, since she fed it. At first she was grateful for the blessed silence, but Cutter hadn’t spoken to her since leaving the hotel. She wished she could remember last night, but her last clear image was of cutting the wedding cake. He was not a gabby sort of guy, and she knew he was a man of few words unless he was conducting business. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, Gram always said.

  “Cutter, do you know how to get to the boat dock?”

  “I got good directions from the people who run the jet boat.”

  Okay, that didn’t stimulate any conversation. “Are you disappointed? You’re so quiet this morning.”

  “Disappointed in what, Lex?”

  “Well, in last night. I assume that we, ah… you know?”

  “You are going to have to be more specific. I have no idea what you are talking about.” He knew very well what she was asking him, but after the frustrating night he had spent he was not inclined to ease her mind.

  “Did we consummate our wedding vows?”

  “Consummate?” He lost it, and actually laughed at her. “That sounds like your grandmother talking, Lex.”

  “Okay, so I was hammered. I don’t remember anything after the damned wedding cake. Did we have sex?”

  He deliberately prolonged her anxiety.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you, Cutter?”

  “I am concentrating on the road, and attempting to forget our less than memorable wedding night.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “About as disappointing as it could get, Lex.”

  “Well, I really don’t have a lot of experience at that sort of thing. I am bound to get better with practice. Right?”

  Thankfully, he had located the designated parking near the boat landing. Her questions about last night, and subsequent comments, were having uncomfortable physical effects on his male anatomy. She got out as soon as he parked the dark green Yukon that was now as familiar as his back home. Lexie retrieved her overnight case, the small carry-on, and her larger pull-behind piece of luggage. She started off toward the boat dock, never looking back.

  “Lex, do you want to take the garment bag, too?”

  “No, leave it. Maybe someone will steal it, and I won’t ever have to look at it again.”

  Okay, this is backfiring big-time. He had been goading her a bit about her lack of memory, but she took it as dissatisfaction with her performance in bed. And since her cryptic remark concerning her wedding gown, she wouldn’t even look at him. Lexie walked down the dock in the direction of the waiting watercraft while he checked their bags, and picked up the prepaid tickets. She took the seat nearest the rail of the jet boat, and he hoped she wasn’t planning on taking a swim as he sat in the seat next to her. Before they left the dock, a member of the crew gave them emergency instructions, including the location of life preservers. It was almost the same spiel the airline attendants gave before every flight.

  Lexie was feeling pretty lousy; any help from the pills she had taken for her headache had now faded. Thankfully, the lake was calm, but she hugged close to the rail of the boat to catch a breeze and will her rebelling stomach to calm. She must have really made a fool of herself last night. Silent prayers battled with the incessant drumming in her head as she prayed she hadn’t embarrassed Cutter in public. She was grateful that she had braided her hair when the jet express picked up speed.

  The boat was filled to capacity on the crossing to Put-in-Bay. So Cutter opted to just hold his wife’s hand, now adorned with her new wedding band. He didn’t want to attempt to smooth things over in public. She’d proved to be a bit unpredictable, and could just as well brain him when he admitted the truth. He mulled it over. Maybe I shouldn’t even try?

  Several fleets of golf-carts were located near the boat landing, some complete with drivers who were the island version of a shuttle service. Others were rentals for tourists not inclined to walk the island. R
oom reservations had been made at the Put-in-Bay Resort. The place was relatively new, sporting a Caribbean theme. After they checked in and located their room, Lexie dug out a couple more tablets to relieve the increasing throbbing behind her tearing eyes.

  Cutter was concerned, as Lexie looked to be on the verge of tears. “Lex, I didn’t intend to make light of your anxiety, or upset you. I was just not in a position to have that conversation, and keep my attention on the unfamiliar roads.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Cutter. I guess my excessive intake of Potter’s expensive French bubbly is still working on me. Maybe we could have some lunch? I might feel better once the pills I just took kick in, and I get some real food in me.”

  The in-house restaurant offered a good selection of lunch entrées, and excellent iced tea. When she had her glass refilled their eyes connected, and both were thinking of the tea debacle that was the proverbial straw that broke her resolve to finish her bookkeeping commitment. Lexie was not excited about the prospect of returning to Texas, or having to deal with Maria again. The Decker threats only added to her stress level. She had hoped that what she and Cutter shared was a love strong enough to overcome the negatives, but one day of marriage and he was already disappointed with her.

  Back in their room Lexie sat at a small, faux walnut dressing table to undo her braid and brush her hair. When Cutter emerged from the bathroom—showered, shirtless, and barefoot—the silly signs that showed up every summer at home popped into her head: no shirt, no shoes, no service. His cell phone interrupted his forward progress. The call sounded like business, so she kicked off her shoes, settled in the middle of the oversized bed with her laptop, and proceeded to check her e-mail. She was deciding how to answer Mel’s very personal inquiry about their wedding night when Cutter took the computer from her hands. He closed the lid and placed it across the room on a small round table, flanked on either side by a pair of rattan armchairs. About to give him a piece of her mind for his rude behavior, the words died unspoken when she noticed the heat in his eyes, and his predatory gait back toward the bed. Lexie was immobilized, and instantly empathized with the deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming truck unable to escape the inevitable.

  Lexie had been lamenting the cool weather, as she was unable to make use of the huge outdoor pool, but as soon as his lips took possession of hers, she had a feeling she was caught in an unprecedented Texas heat wave. He made quick work of her outer garments, lingering over her lacy bra and panties, the ones that her mother had insisted on purchasing. He then proceeded to scorch the bared intimate places they’d just covered. I am going to burn every one of these skimpy lacy undergarments the first chance I get. As thoughts of destroying her intimate apparel flitted through her mind, her over-stimulated body arched up begging for more. Cutter was more than willing to accommodate her. Unbearable pressure began to build within her as he continued his onslaught. She was gasping for breath when he drove her over the edge. It felt like an internal earthquake shattered her, complete with tremors and aftershocks, as she gradually came back to reality again. She felt drained, like a boneless rag doll. She was just beginning to catch her breath when he returned, completely naked, and started working her up to a fever pitch once more.

  It was the sharp, intense pain as he forced his entry that made her realize she was completely helpless and at his mercy. A bucket of ice water couldn’t have put out her ardor any quicker than the strong pain now threatening to split her in two. She tried to push him off, but couldn’t budge him. So she took a swing at his head. He captured her hands up over her head effectively gaining complete control. He didn’t move. He just kept her pinned beneath him. She tried to wiggle loose, but it only hurt more. “Get the hell off of me, Cutter!”

  “Calm down, Lex. The pain will ease quicker if you relax and let your body adjust to mine.”

  “Like hell! I should have realized since the rest of you is so damn big, that would be too.”

  It was causing him a great deal of discomfort to go so slowly, but he hadn’t expected his little bride to still be a virgin at twenty-four! Fortunately, her body betrayed her brain and convulsed as it gloved his sex; he let instinct take over, joining her in an earth-shattering climax well worth his prolonged wait for her to catch up. Cutter rolled on to his back, taking her along with him and reversing their positions. They slept a while in the tangle of damp sheets. Then he woke her with his roving hands for an encore.

  Lexie couldn’t believe how achy, battered, and bruised she felt, inside and out, yet her out-of-control hormones responded once again with even more urgency. Not the slow easy process of their first mating, this time as he coached her in their reverse roles, she was the aggressor. She collapsed on his broad lightly furred chest, fighting for air and some return to sanity.

  Lexie turned on the shower to wash away the sweat from her body, along with the evidence of their recent activity. Everywhere she touched with the soapy washcloth was tender, from her breasts to her lower body. She heard him call out.

  “Lex, are you sure you don’t need a hand?”

  He punctuated his question with another amused chuckle. She had refused his previous offer to share the shower with her. His perverted suggestion to wash hers if she washed his, prompted her to reply that if he touched her again, she was filing for divorce, making theirs one of the shortest marriages in history. All he did was laugh at her threat, but he did agree not to invade her space in the bathroom “this time.”

  She was grateful she hadn’t given in to her attraction to Cutter back in the beginning; he would surely have thought she was a loose woman after his money. Lexie couldn’t believe the things that they had done, and shared the past three days. She even relented on the showering alone stipulation of their first afternoon on the island. They shared meals out of the room, and walked the island, exploring the sites and points of interest. But the bulk of their brief honeymoon was spent exploring one another’s bodies. Lexie discovered a whole new twist on the old shower routine. Who would have thought that a shower could amount to some very stimulating foreplay, or that it was possible to make love standing up, wet and lathered with soap, without serious injury to the bathing lovers? It was all a revelation.

  Embarrassed might not be the correct word to describe her naïve inquiry about consummating their wedding night. She had no doubt that if she had an extreme case of amnesia her body would attest to what had happened, beginning with the afternoon of their arrival on South Bass Island and every time since. After a steamy morning shower, breakfast, and a walk to the unique lighthouse with attached living quarters that was now part of The Ohio State University, they returned to their honeymoon suite.

  Lexie kicked off her shoes, sat cross-legged on the bed, and clicked on the TV. The lake looked really choppy when they had been out by the 1897 Queen Ann style structure attached to the fascinating old lighthouse. So, she decided to check the local forecast, but a national news story caught her attention.

  “Cutter. Come look at this!”

  17

  Due to the choppy lake conditions, the ferry transports were on stand-down until it calmed enough for a safe crossing. Undeterred, Cutter hired a charter pilot who was willing to fly them back to the mainland. Their honeymoon came to an abrupt end.

  “I will call you when I get back, Lex.” She was soundly kissed in her living room, amidst her luggage, and in front of her puzzled Grandmother; he turned, closed the door behind him, and—poof—he was gone.

  “What happened, Alexandra? We didn’t expect you for a couple of more days.”

  “I will tell you later Gram. Right now, I need to carry this stuff upstairs, and then take a nap.”

  She also needed some privacy to call Mel’s father, just in case he didn’t catch the news this morning. He had, and had already dispatched Booker to investigate the happenings at the Lazy K. Mr. Potter also mentioned the allegations in the media coverage that one of the hands at the Rocking R had been arrested. No wonder Cutter had cut
short their time together, after checking in with Sam and Jim. Lexie burrowed under the quilt on her bed, closed her eyes, and prayed that the need for vengeance she shared with Mr. Potter and Booker wouldn’t somehow land in Cutter’s lap.

  Familiar musical tones woke her. Still combating the residual fog of sleep, she fumbled for her phone. Too late! It was Cutter; she checked the messages and called him back. Strange, she didn’t remember a hand named Pete? But she didn’t know the names of most of the ranch hands. However, mentally going over payroll names she could not remember a Pete or Peter. Cutter had just arrived back at the ranch, and was on his way to try to bail out his employee. She was just disconnecting from her new husband for the second time that day when her Mom came into her room, and for the first time she wished she was in Texas.

  Dinner was more like an interrogation than a family meal. Mom started it all off by demanding to know why she was home so early, and alone.

  “I was checking on the weather when a story came on about a fire at the Lazy K that was the suspected starting point of a spreading wildfire. It was reported that someone had been arrested on suspicion of arson. Turns out that when Cutter called home to verify what we’d just heard, and the footage aired, it was one of his ranch hands suspected of starting the fire. We couldn’t get off the island by jet express or the traditional ferry, so Cutter hired one of the pilots that make that run all winter. He dropped me off here, and caught a plane back to Texas.”

  “Why didn’t you go with him?”

  How was she supposed to answer that? Mom already knew about the Skip versus Maria thing, although she didn’t know about the other points of their premarital agreement. “Well, mostly because he didn’t ask me. But I think he was honoring our agreement about Skip. He was in a big hurry to get back, and there wasn’t time to make arrangements for my dog to go along.”

  Grandma was scowling at both of them. “Just what kind of agreement did you make with that man?”