He was wearily sprawled out on the oversized raft, trying to catch his breath. He'd been pushing himself, swimming laps in lieu of running, hoping to erase the seductive images he had of her from the boat. They'd anchored in a sheltered bay, away from the tumultuous water further out and had been offered a variety of different water equipment and activities from which to choose. He'd captured her attention, relating the information that had been given over the loud-speaker only to see her rise excitedly, shimmy out of her skirt and head toward the back of the boat. He was busily absorbing the sight of her in nothing but her swimsuit, his eyes roaming up her impossibly long legs to the gently rounded curves above when she stopped, spun around, and locked her gaze with his. "Come play in the water, Jack," she'd said, crooking her finger at him before turning, pulling her hair out of her ponytail and disappearing over the side. He'd panicked, springing from his chair and rushing to where he'd last seen her, relaxing when he saw her surface in the clear water below, gazing at him expectantly, looking every bit the mermaid enticing him into her world.

Startled out of his revere by a splash of water on his midsection, he lifted his head to see her treading water, a delighted smile on her face. "Are you having fun, Jack?" she asked breathlessly,

He nodded his head, "Are you?"

"Oh yeah!" she exclaimed. "The water is so clear. You can see for days and it doesn't hurt to open your eyes. I thought the salt water would burn, but it doesn't."

"That's because it's not the salt that burns your eyes at the beach, it's the sand. Most beaches have sandy bottoms and the wave motion keeps the sand stirred up and mixed with the water. That sand in your eyes is what is so irritating. Here, the bottom is mostly solidified lava, or rock, so there is little or no sand in the water. Since the natural moisture in your eyes is salty, salt water doesn't burn." He stopped, clearing his throat self-consciously as she calmly stared at him. "It's one of those useless tidbits of information I have stored in the recesses of my brain."

"Oh. That's good to know. For a moment there I thought you had morphed into Myles." Waiting for his laughter to subside she held out a hand, "Give me a pull?"

Lithely rolling to his knees, he reached out and easily tugged her up onto the flat surface of the raft. Sitting beside him, she leaned back on her hands, dropping her head back and lifting her face toward the sun, giving Jack an unobstructed view of her swimsuit clad body. His attention followed a droplet of water as it dripped from her hair and rolled haphazardly down the swell of her chest to an invisible destination in the valley between her breasts. Slapping his hands over his eyes, he collapsed back on the soft surface, rolled to his side and splashed some water on his face. Hearing her husky laughter, he turned to look at her.

"Are you hot?"

"Wh...why?"

"You've been sitting in the sun for several minutes and you just splashed water on your face. It's either you're hot or you're sleepy."

"I'm not sleepy," he informed her.

"Oh! Look!" She exclaimed, rolling to her knees and pointing over his side.

"What?" he asked, turning to look only to find himself tumbling into the water. Whirling, he demanded, "What'd you do that for?"

Her smile flirtatious, she spouted, "Because you're cute when you're wet."

"Huh?" he sputtered, his eyes widening at her unexpected statement. "What'd you just say?"

"I said you're all wet," she hedged, laughing and diving over him, swimming toward shore.

She'd made it to where the waves were gently breaking when she felt a hand close over her ankle. Momentary panic set in and she jerked violently, turning swiftly and continuing to struggle until she found herself free. She'd swum a couple of strokes toward the beach when reason kicked in and she stopped and turned back, seeing Jack standing still, no longer following, his look stricken.

"I'm sorry," she urgently murmured, making her way back to him, struggling against the current. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated, watching his head shake, but unable to stop her litany of words. "I should have known it was you but I panicked. I'm sorry," she pled one more time, walking right up to him and throwing her arms around him.

He could feel her heart pounding heavily, no doubt his thoughtlessness striking terror into her after yesterday's trauma. Grateful she'd realized she was not being pursued and had turned, he kept her close, trying to soothe her shaking body. Becoming distracted by the way the gentle waves where rhythmically pushing him against her, he almost missed her softly spoken admission, whispered into the hollow of his neck.

"He wouldn't let me out of the water."

She paused.

He concentrated and waited.

"He was mad because I kept reminding him to look at me when he told me something. That's when he grabbed my face and told me to keep my eyes on him, to quit looking around. That if I'd do that then I wouldn't miss any of his instructions and could stop whining."

She paused again and he felt helpless. He hated the hint of doubt that had crept into her tone. For all her fiery independence, she could sometimes become the little girl of yesteryear, full of uncertainty.

"I tried, Jack. I really tried to follow what he was saying, but too much was going on. I couldn't read him and do what he wanted me to do." Another long pause and a shuddering breath later she continued. "He finally threw his hands up in the air, trapped me between the sail and his body and took us into deeper water. He s...said there were other ways to enjoy a wind board."

Unable to stand the silence any more, he drew his fingertips up her back and tenderly took her face in his hands, tilting it up so she could see him. "Did he hurt you, Sue?"

His eyes were raw with anguish, hurting with her and she knew, hurting because he hadn't been there to protect her. For all the mysteries he was to her, his role of protector wasn't one of them. He'd made no bones about it. He wanted to protect her, Tara and Lucy too, from whatever he could. All the males, even Myles, in their office had the same testosterone ravaged gene. But with her, Jack seemed to take it a little more personally. "Some, but not like you think," she admitted, trying to ease the lines of worry that were evident in his expression. "He managed to get my lifejacket off and, um, was touch...gro...grabbing me before I managed to get away. My swimsuit tore when I rolled for the water. He lunged for me, grabbing at the straps. Thankfully it ripped instead of him being able to pull me back."

It was Jack's turn to shudder as his imagination, fueled by real-life situations, ran wild with a myriad of terrifying scenarios she could have found herself in. He pulled her back to him, tucking her head beneath his chin, willing the violent scenes flashing across his mind to stop.

"Jack, I only have a few bruises," she said, trying to remind him she was okay.

"Where?" He muttered before stepping back and repeating the question where she could see him. "Where?"

Glancing around as if deciding if she should tell him, she made the mistake of once again meeting his tortured gaze. "I saw a couple on my, um, bottom, from where he pinched me. You've seen the ones on my jaw, and um, there's a couple here," she shared, reaching up and slightly sliding the fabric covering one breast to the side, just far enough for him to see the beginning of the tender flesh.

Jack had no control over his actions. He reached out with trembling fingers, lightly touching the darkened skin. Her gasp of surprise brought him back to reality. He was formulating an apology when he felt her hand close over his, holding his in place. He watched her look up and meet his eyes.

"I should be afraid," she said with something akin to wonderment in her voice. Dropping her forehead to his chest, he heard her finish on a sigh, "But I'm not."

Standing still, afraid to move, his heart pounding erratically, he waited on her to lead. He felt her tighten her grip on his hand and was stunned when, instead of removing it, she slid it to more fully cover her, arching into his hand and whispering, "Touch me, Jack."

The material of her suit did nothing to hide her body's response to his touch as he lightly palmed her, his movements slow and tender, restoring her confidence and chasing away her demons. He heard the small noises she was making deep in her throat, sounds of which he was sure she was unaware, but had him clenching his teeth and sucking in air to maintain his control. He moved his free hand from her waist, sliding it up her back to the nape of her neck, urging her head to rest more securely under his chin. He felt her wobbly exhaled breath and knew she was not unaffected. His lips had just nestled against her forehead, his fingers foraging under material, when he heard the horn of the boat and froze.

Lifting her head in complaint when his hand slid from its sensuous ministrations to rest at her waist, she saw him tell her it was time to return to the boat, that the horn had just sounded. "Oh," she whispered, having trouble thinking through the sensual haze she was in. "Oh!" she exclaimed again more forcefully milliseconds later, stepping back, out of his reach. Unable to meet his eyes, the ramifications of what she'd just been doing slammed down on her, swallowing her in mortification. "I...I...I'm sorry. I...I don't know what came over me," she uttered darkly, refusing to look at him. Sidestepping where he still stood, she began to inch her way toward the boat. "Please forgive me. I...I should have never allowed...should have never asked you to do that. I...I'm s...so...sorry."

He tried to respond but she slipped beneath the water, surfacing a few feet away from him and striking out toward the boat. Jack followed, glad for the time and energy it took to return to their craft. His mind raced with the implications of their intimate interlude. She was a heady combination of seductress and innocence and totally oblivious to the effect she had on him. He wasn't sorry that they had ventured into new relationship territory because he had every intention of moving them forward this evening. His concern now was in how she would react back aboard the boat and being able to control himself around her; to take them into the future at a slower pace, one that she could live with.