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    then he became the crisp professional again.  I ll leave these
    papers with you. Just sign them and get them back to me later
    today. I apologize for the rush, but we need to file them before
    those two divers press their charges against you. I m sorry
    things are turning out this way. But we re all behind you. I ll
    keep in touch.
    Gail heard the front door close. She retreated into her
    bedroom and sat on the bed in the darkness, not wanting
    Marike to see her lurking in the shadows, eavesdropping.
    She heard Marike go into the bathroom and close the door.
    Gail yawned, wondering what to make of what she had heard.
    Marike blamed DARDCO for her father s death at sea, and
    Rolf for not investigating the incident more thoroughly.
    Could there be any truth in it? She frowned. Marike didn t
    strike her as the type to imagine things.
    And then there was Rolf s apparently unrequited love for
    Marike. That was something she certainly wanted to think
    about later.
    The hall light went on as Marike came out of the bath-
    room. Gail saw her pass the partly closed door of the guest
    bedroom and hesitate there. She heard Marike s hand on the
    doorknob, then, slowly, silently, the door swung open. Gail s
    heart began to thump so loudly she was certain Marike could
    hear it.
     Gail, Marike called softly, tentatively.
    Gail waited a moment, closing her eyes, willing all this
    away.
     Gail, Marike called again.
     Yes, Gail finally answered.
     You re awake then, Marike said quietly.
     I heard voices.
     Rolf Klee, Marike explained.  He came about an hour
    ago to drop off some papers for me to sign. She was silent
    then, and for a moment Gail thought she had gone back to
    her room. When she spoke again, Gail was surprised at how
    56 Lauren Wright Douglas
    Marike s voice in the dark pleased her.  Well . . . Marike
    said.
     Would you like to come in and talk? The words were
    out of her mouth before she realized it.
    There was silence for a moment. Then Marike replied:
     Aren t you tired?
     Tired, yes; sleepy, no.
    Marike opened the door and came to sit on the edge of the
    bed. By the light in the hall, Gail could see that she wore only
    her yellow T-shirt. Gail realized with a start that she, too, had
    very little on. In fact, she was wearing only the T-shirt Marike
    had given her. She pulled the sheet a little higher around her
    thighs.
    Marike said nothing for a moment. The light from the
    hall made a pale halo of her hair, and her eyes shone silver in
    the dark. Gail could see the outline of her small breasts under
    her T-shirt, and the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
     Gail, I . . . she said softly. Then it seemed perfectly nat-
    ural that Marike lean over and kiss her gently on the mouth.
    Gail felt an electric charge pass between them so powerful it
    short-circuited her ability to think. She knew she shouldn t
    be doing this, but try as she might, she couldn t recall why.
    Marike s lips on hers were driving all other thoughts out of
    her mind. I don t want to do this, she thought desperately.
    But the thought had no effect on her actions. Shivering, she
    closed her eyes. Marike s lips felt like warm velvet, and Gail s
    arms came up around the other woman s shoulders of their
    own accord. She held Marike tightly, and when Marike s lips
    parted, Gail felt her own lips open in return. Marike moaned
    softly, and put her hands in Gail s hair. The tip of her tongue
    sought Gail s, gently at first, then with an eloquent forceful-
    ness. Gail met the probing tongue with her own, amazed to
    find her desires as urgent as Marike s.
    Marike s hands caressed Gail s throat, her shoulders, the
    bare skin of her arms, and when she touched her breasts, Gail
    Osten s Bay 57
    too moaned. A hot tide of pleasure built within her, growing
    with Marike s every touch. Marike slid her hands up under
    Gail s T-shirt and stroked her breasts. She bent to kiss the
    nipples. Gail arched, pulling Marike s head closer. Marike
    rubbed her face across Gail s breasts, kissing her skin with
    warm, soft lips, taking a nipple between her teeth. Gail gasped
    with pleasure.
    Then Marike laid Gail gently on the bed and drew the
    sheet away from her body.  How lovely you are, she whis-
    pered, stroking Gail s thighs.
    Gail closed her eyes, torn between wanting Marike to
    continue kissing and stroking her but also wanting her to stop.
    To give her time to breathe. Time to think. What am I doing,
    Gail asked herself. I don t even know this woman. God, do I
    want to be made love to so much? This has to stop I have
    to stop it.
    Her hands on Gail s breasts, Marike had begun to kiss
    Gail s body with slow, languorous kisses, making her weak
    with desire. Every kiss brought Marike s mouth closer to Gail s
    trembling thighs, and the thought of what might come next
    made Gail feel faint. Stop, stop, she cried to herself, knowing
    that soon she would have to say it aloud to Marike or it would
    be too late.
    She felt panicked. Trapped. She clenched her fists, torn
    between Marike s soft, warm breath on her thighs and the
    voice of reason in her mind.
     Wait, Gail whispered.
    Marike looked up. She leaned over Gail and smoothed
    her hair.  Just tell me what you want.
    Gail raised a hand and caressed Marike s face.  I m sorry.
    I shouldn t have asked you in. She drew a deep, shuddering
    breath.  What I really want is for you to go.
    Marike was still for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she sat
    up.  Oh, she said quietly.  All right. She stood up and walked
    to the door, where she hesitated.  What did I do wrong? I
    58 Lauren Wright Douglas
    thought you wanted me as much as I wanted you, she said.
    Gail closed her eyes, hating her nineteenth century
    Victorian conscience.  Nothing. You didn t do anything
    wrong. It s me. I just can t seem to . . .
     Can t seem to what? Marike asked, clearly puzzled.
     I can t seem to do things like this as easily as you. I guess
    I need to know you better before . . . I m sorry.
     So am I, Marike said. She slipped out of the room and
    into the hall.
    A moment later, Gail heard Marike s bedroom door close.
    She lay there in the dark, unmoving, then wrapped herself in
    the sheet and closed her eyes.
    Chapter 5
    She awoke to bright sunlight streaming through the win-
    dow. Disoriented, muscles aching, she squinted and sat up
    groggily, wondering where she was. Memory flooded back
    she was at Marike Osten s house. Remembering the night
    before, she cringed. Where was Marike, she wondered. One
    look at her diver s watch told her it was almost eight, far too
    late to join Marike in her swim. She wasn t at all certain she
    wanted to. How could she face Marike?
    She got up and walked to the window. Through the palm
    trees, she could see the ocean, dark blue under a paler sky,
    the wind ruffling the sea, the sun striking diamonds from the
    waves. A small white boat bobbed at anchor about a mile off-
    shore. Marike? Perhaps. She turned away from the window,
    frowning.
    Finding her borrowed shorts, she had just stepped into
    them when a knock sounded on her door.
    60 Lauren Wright Douglas
     Gail, it s Marike. There s a phone call for you. Marike s
    voice was cool, flat.  From someone at ISAUR.
     Oh, Gail said, zipping the shorts.  I ll be right there.
    When she opened the door, Marike was nowhere in sight. She
    hurried into the living room and picked up the phone.
     Dr. Murray? a breathless young voice answered.  It s
    me, Russ. I m sorry to interrupt your time off, but some- [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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