Chapter 14
Harm and Mac emerged from the limo to a sea of faces. At their feet, an actual, honest-to-goodness red carpet ran up the steps to the doors of the wharf complex. Gilded ropes held back the crowd of well-wishers and fans, some of whom seemed inexplicably delirious at the Rabbs' arrival. Paparazzi lined the space inside the ropes, their flashes half-blinding the two. Harm and Mac had endured media storms before, during cases that had drawn significant public attention, but luckily these were entertainment reporters rather than their more politically aware brethren.
"This is insane!" Mac hissed as they shouldered their way through the crowd, ignoring the typically stupid questions. "Don't these people have lives of their own?"
"Almost makes you pity actors, doesn't it." Harm kept one arm protectively around her as they made their way inside, despite the fact that Mac could have cut an admirable swath through the mass of people with a judicious application of her Marine training. He often wondered why he felt so tremendously protective toward a woman who could generally take care of herself.
Inside, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. They found Selena there ahead of them, waiting to lead them to the Radiant Heart. The interior of the building looked much like an airport concourse, with cheap carpeting and rows of thinly padded chairs grouped around the various terminals. Today the building was empty save for a few security guards who wandered about, looking bored.
Hand in hand, Harm and Mac climbed the gentle slope of the boarding ramp. At the top, a group of stewards and the captain of the ship waited for them in time honored tradition. Harm knew he was supposed to stroll onto the ship like any other ignorant civilian, but his feet refused to obey. He hit the top of the ramp and stopped, one step from boarding the Radiant Heart. Mac paused, too, and looked questioningly at him.
Harm squeezed her hand by way of silent apology. He nodded to the captain. "Permission to come aboard, sir?"
The captain, a tall, distinguished looking man in his mid-sixties, flashed them a warm grin. "Permission granted." He held out his hand. "I'm Frederick Baxter, Captain of the Radiant Heart."
Harm stepped aboard, feeling the subtle change as he moved from land to ship. He took the proffered handshake.
"A pleasure to meet you, Captain. I'm Harmon Rabb and this is my wife, Sarah." Just saying the words made something in him soar.
Mac shook the captain's hand as well, her expression schooled.
"The pleasure's all mine," Captain Baxter assured them. "It's not often I meet a young person who knows proper etiquette for boarding a ship. Usually it's the old sea dogs like me."
Harm did his best to cover his tracks. He shrugged. "I defended an 'old sea dog', as you call them, once. I guess he made an impression on me."
The captain simply nodded and Harm and Mac followed one of the stewards on into the interior of the ship.
"That wasn't very bright," Mac murmured after they'd gained some distance from the greeting party.
"Sorry, I just couldn't be that rude," Harm whispered back.
Mac rolled her eyes, but then smiled. "Well, if there's one thing I love about you, it's your sense of chivalry."
Harm felt her words sink in. "Say that first part again."
"What?"
"The part about you loving me."
Mac flushed, but her expression could have put a small sun to shame. Together they paused, caught up in the moment.
Selena stopped a few paces away and folded her arms across her stomach, doing her best to become part of the furnishings. Her job was to be unobtrusive while still getting her wards to their appointments on time. It was her judgement that determined if this moment should be allowed to continue uninterrupted, captured by the cameras in the hall. And this interlude, she decided, would make great t.v.
Mac looked up into Harm's eyes, her expression appraising. After a few moments of that, Harm cocked an eyebrow, knowing Mac would understand the question.
She smiled a bit wistfully. "I was just trying to figure out when it was that I really fell in love with you."
"Oh, really? When did you?" Harm asked with a sense of delight.
She gave him a half smile. "I'm not sure. It was sometime before Sydney, though." She shook her head. "I was so hurt you turned me down that night."
Harm felt the familiar pang. "I thought we weren't going to go counting should've's anymore."
Mac didn't react to the reproach in his voice. She shook her head lightly. "I'm not sure that one counts. It probably would have wrecked our careers."
"On the other hand, it would have kept you from getting involved with Brumby." Something he would have done anything to prevent had he known how serious the relationship would become.
Mac heaved a sigh at the mention of Brumby's name. "Well, I suppose I'm going to have to admit this sometime, so it might as well be now." Her body language shifted, took on a slightly defensive edge.
Harm watched her warily. "Admit what?"
"That, subconsciously, at least, I got involved with Mic in the hopes of making you jealous."
Harm didn't have an immediate answer. His thoughts went back to the day Mac had shown up with a diamond ring on her right hand. It had felt like a slap in the face. Like a taunt. Which is exactly what it was, he realized. 'Come and get me if you want me'. Pride had made him back away. He'd seen the attempt at coercion as a power play rather than a desperate act, but even so, he wasn't certain he would have responded differently.
Harm couldn't help the sharp edge to his voice as old anger resurfaced. "It worked."
"Not well enough, obviously." She crossed her arms.
Harm kept a tight rein on his temper. "You were trying to manipulate me, Mac. What did you want me to do? Crawl on my hand and knees to your doorstep and beg you to choose me instead of him?"
Mac gave him a look filled with bitterness. "No, the mighty Harmon Rabb, Jr. would never stoop so low, would he?"
Harm nearly lost it. The flash of fury sent adrenaline pouring into his system, demanding action.
"You're still a mean drunk, Mac." The words came out clipped, harsh.
Mac's head snapped back as if he'd slapped her. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means the only time you ever accuse me of being self-righteous is when you're dead wrong and don't want to admit it."
They glared at each other for a long moment. Mac faltered first and looked away. She swallowed hard, nodded.
"You're right. I'm sorry."
Harm's anger began to drain away. "Me, too."
Mac glanced at him, her dark eyes wounded. "For what?"
He shrugged. "For not kissing you senseless on that ferry, for starters."
Mac smiled weakly. "I would have liked that." She let out her breath in a gusty sigh. "Of all the days to be arguing…" She shook her head sadly.
Harm's mouth twisted in a sour smile. "We've been fighting like cats and dogs for eight years, Mac. You didn't think it was going to stop just because we got married, did you?"
She snorted softly. "I suppose two miracles in one day is a bit much to expect."
Harm caught her waist to pull her to him. "At least we got the most important one," he said.
Mac molded her slender frame against him, tucking her head beneath his chin. Harm hugged her and laid his cheek against her hair. The tight bands around his chest began to loosen.
"I suppose there's one benefit to fighting so much," Mac said against his chest, her tone thoughtful.
Harm looked down at her. "What's that?" he asked cautiously.
She tilted her head back to look into his face. "Making up." She grinned.
Harm felt a rush of pure relief. "Why, Mac, is that an invitation?"
"Better believe it, flyboy."
Harm smiled at the challenge in her eyes. With a flourish, he dipped her there in the empty passageway. He was delighted by the easy way she committed her weight to him, trusting him to keep them both balanced as they kissed.
Mac laughed as he pulled her upright once again. Her deep brown eyes threatened to drown him, a fate he wasn't entirely certain he wanted to avoid.
"Can we officially declare this a fresh start?" Mac asked after a moment. "Forget the past, wipe the slate clean, that sort of thing?"
Harm dragged himself out of her eyes. "I'm not sure ignoring the past is such a wise idea," he countered. Denial hadn't done either of them any good that he could see.
Her face fell by degrees. "There's just so much to deal with." He could see the fear of more pain in her eyes.
Harm was a little surprised by the strength of his determination. But he never had backed down from a promise once he made it. "We have the rest of our lives to sort it all out, Mac."
"You think that'll be long enough?" she asked with a ghost of a smile.
Harm grinned at her. "I guess we'll find out."
He was rewarded by a quiet laugh.
#
To Mac's dismay, the first contestants they ran into onboard were Boothe Crossby and Carmen Esperanza. Boothe greeted them both with a charming civility that could have hidden anything beneath it. Carmen kept her gaze almost exclusively on Harm, eyeing him as if she wondered how he would taste roasted over a slow flame with white wine sauce. Mac had to resist the urge to shout "Mine!" and step protectively in front of her husband.
Mac supposed she shouldn't be too surprised by Carmen's behavior. Harm obviously fit her "type". He and Boothe had been stamped from similar molds… tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and dangerously handsome, but Boothe was ruthless in a way Harm was not. She found that observation interesting since Harm could play hardball with the best of them, whether in court or on the battlefield. But, she had the feeling Boothe would willingly cross any moral line to gain his objectives, which Harm would never do.
Carmen she wasn't as certain about. The other woman wore her sultry Latin beauty the way a whore wore her clothes. Tawdry was the word that most often came to mind. But she was paired up with a man like Boothe in what was basically a fidelity competition, so there had to be more to her than met the eye.
Mac took the initiative. "So, how is married life treating you so far, Carmen?" she asked in as friendly a manner as she could manage.
Carmen smiled, showing a flash of white teeth between succulent red lips. "No complaints yet. You?"
Mac grinned, figuring she could score more points with the truth. "I think I'm in for a pretty wild ride," she confided. That got a flicker of reaction from Carmen, though Mac couldn't identify the emotion that fueled it. Jealousy, perhaps? If men were trophies, then Boothe was the silver and Harm the gold, most definitely. Mac doubted Carmen was used to having her man outclassed.
Mac chuckled to herself. And we accuse men of being territorial!
Together, the two couples made their way to the deck to wait for the requisite waving and throwing of streamers as the harbor tugs pulled them away from the quay. Carmen and Mac traded bits of gossip as they went. Unfortunately, collecting gossip was an occupational hazard for Mac, but the skill served her well now.
On deck, they met Jeb and Stacy as well as a thirty-ish black couple named John and Delia Washington. John was a professor at a community college outside Memphis. Mac couldn't immediately remember what Delia did. Interior design? Something like that.
"Hey Cornpone!" Carmen greeted Jeb with the warmth of an older sister to her favorite little brother. She was a strange one, Mac thought. So far, her motives remained obscure, and her reactions to people seemed to vary by individual with no discernable pattern.
"Hi, Carmen." Jeb's greeting was more restrained. He seemed to take a prudently suspicious view of the older woman's friendly overtures. Stacy watched with a narrow-eyed stare.
Well, Mac thought, if Carmen's goal is to antagonize all the other married women on this cruise, she's off to a good start. That wasn't a bad analysis of her behavior, Mac decided after another moment's contemplation.
The four couples chatted for a while as they watched the remaining limos make the trip from beach to the wharf, speculating on various strengths and weaknesses of the not-yet-arrived, and hashing out possibilities for the first competition, which was only two days away. The winners would be able to pick their spouses' companion at their first port of call.
The thought of Harm going out with another woman, even on a supposedly innocent day trip, made Mac's stomach clench in sudden nausea. She grabbed the deck rail and turned her face toward the ocean as she struggled to regain her composure. There had been a lot of women for Harm. Despite all her protests that it wasn't any of her business and that she didn't really care, Mac had kept a catalogue in her heart of each and every one. There might have been a few she never knew about, she conceded, but not very many. The most frightening part was that Harm didn't chase women. He just didn't often say 'no' to an invitation.
Except for me.
"Hey, you o.k.?" Harm came to stand beside her. He rested his elbows on the rail, throwing her a worried glance.
Mac nodded quickly, trying to push her dark thoughts away. "Yeah." She met his gaze briefly, summoned a smile. "I'm starting to realize just what we've gotten ourselves into."
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Me, too."
Mac watched him intently. "You scared?"
The blue eyes lit with mirth. He leaned toward her, his shoulder brushing hers. "Nah."
Mac smiled, though her heart remained heavy. "You mean you're not particularly intimidated by the prospect of battling off a ship full of dozens of beautiful women who will be throwing themselves at you for the next six weeks?" She kept her tone light.
He arched one eyebrow and gave her his famous smile. "And how would that be different from regular life?"
Mac punched him lightly in the shoulder. "In your dreams, flyboy."
Harm chuckled. "You're the one who's in my dreams, Mac."
It was much-needed reassurance. Mac tilted her head back, giving him one of her best come-hither looks. "Ooh. Sweet talk will get you everywhere." It felt strange to play this same old game, knowing that this time there were no uncrossable lines to keep Harm from taking her up on her offer.
He didn't disappoint her. Straightening, he closed the distance between them. Their lips met, the touch incendiary. Mac reached up to encircle his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair as she pulled him closer.
Distantly, Mac heard laughter, particularly Delia's. "Hoo, you go girl!"
Laughing in embarrassment, Mac broke the kiss and hid her face against Harm's chest for a moment, her cheeks hot. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear and felt the tension in his body that spoke to her own of barely restrained passion. Mac's body answered in kind, and only the presence of the other couples and the two cameramen lurking in the near distance kept her from further action. Her internal clock immediately told her how many hours they had left to wait until the cameras in their stateroom could be turned off. After that, though…
Boothe's chuckle interrupted her lascivious thoughts. "I do believe the Rabbs are going to present some rather stiff competition for the rest of us," he said in a dapper British accent, stroking an imaginary mustache.
Mac laughed with the rest, particularly when Harm added his own comments in her ear.
The rest of the day passed in agonizing slowness, but pass it did. They stayed at the rail while the crew cast off, then went inside to explore the main portions of the ship, occasionally stealing kisses in shadowed corners and out-of-the-way places. Dinner was served in the Grand Ballroom, followed by dancing. Mac had always enjoyed dancing with her partner, perhaps because it had been the only acceptable outlet for their attraction for so many years. But tonight it was foreplay, and they both knew it.
During the course of the evening Mac's emotions swung from heated anticipation to nervous terror and back again more times than she could count. Harm did an admirable job of keeping her distracted with a running commentary of lighthearted stories and jokes, though she had the feeling they were meant to distract him as much as her. Mac had to smile at the babble. Harm tended to chatter like a demented bluejay when he was nervous.
They didn't leave the ballroom the moment the clock struck the appropriate hour. That moment came and went, with neither of them making a significant overture. Mac's stomach slowly tied itself in a knot.
Now what? she wondered.
The music had slowed as the evening progressed. Their dancing had followed suit, becoming more and more intimate. Even Harm's constant chatter had fallen away. Mac was acutely aware of every contact between them, from the light pressure of his fingertips on the small of her back to their clasped hands and the occasional brush of his hip against hers. Eventually, Mac couldn't stand it any longer.
"Harm?" She pulled away slightly to look up at him.
He met her gaze after a moment. "Yeah, Mac?" She had the feeling he'd been a million miles away in his thoughts.
Mac discarded what she'd been about to say. "What were you thinking about?" she asked instead.
He smiled, seeming abashed. "Teaching my son to fly."
That wasn't what Mac had been expecting. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but that definitely wasn't it. The simple comment filled her with an intense rush of longing, joy and fear. Her breath caught in her throat.
Harm's smile faded, replaced by an intense expression that turned Mac's knees to water. She wasn't sure who initiated the kiss. It ran from her lips to the tips of her fingers and toes like a bolt of lightning and left her breathless.
"Let's get out of here," Harm suggested when they parted.
Mac could only nod. She'd waited so many years for this moment. One by one the barriers separating them had fallen until there were none left.
Together they sought their room, finally free to express their feelings for each other on a level that had no parallel, and to confirm the promises they had made in a language that had no words.
