“I just told Ingrid you’re my date for her wedding tomorrow,” he said as he joined her.
Talk about leaving things to the last minute. Melodie lowered the camera. “What did she say?”
He shrugged negligently, not surprising her a bit when that was the sum total of his reply.
She sighed and lifted the camera again. “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t just appear with me by your side without any explanation at all,” she groused.
“Our being together wasn’t any of her business until now.”
“Is that really why you waited this long to say anything?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
She pretended to change the menu options on the back of the camera, but really just clicked through the settings. “I can’t help thinking you weren’t sure if we’d still be together, so you skipped mentioning it until you knew for sure that we would be.”
“And now you’re picking a fight to put that in jeopardy?”
“No,” she grumbled.
“I’m a private man, Melodie. You know that.”
This time when she sighed, it was much heavier, laden with impatience. “I am aware, yes. I’d love to know why talking is so hard for you, but wouldn’t dare ask.”
Silence.
Misgivings rolled in like fog, making her feel chilled, as if her breaths were wet and thick.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sincere, but even she could hear the tone she was taking. Frustration flattened the apology. “I really don’t want to pick a fight. I was just feeling...” Insecure. She didn’t want to admit it.
“You’re hardly the first woman to become annoyed with me,” he allowed.
“Oh, good. Compare me to the rest of your companions. That’ll smooth things over. What’s that white thing out there?” she asked, swiftly changing topics to avoid a bigger fight. “Is that the water doing that? Churning up or something?”
“It’s a rip current,” he said testily, taking a step toward the rail. He glanced from the water to the interior of the yacht, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to stick around and work out the niggle between them or escape it.
Melodie chose to pretend it hadn’t happened at all, only saying, “That explains why it was so hard getting back to the hotel when I first came here. There was a rock... You can’t see it now. I guess the tide is higher, but I had to sit and catch my breath. I was so sorry I didn’t have a camera, though—”
“Wait, what are you talking about? You swam in that current? When?” He turned into robot Roman, the one who shot out questions, extracting information like a laser scalpel, green eyes piercing into hers.
“That day. The last time I was here.” Maybe that was why she was picking a fight. The tension of coming back to this place was adding to the uncertainty she felt in their relationship.
“There are signs that say No Swimming.”
“I know, but I was hot and tired and my feet hurt. I wasn’t wearing shoes. Swimming across the bay looked shorter than walking all the way around, so—”
“I sent a cab, Melodie! I told them to find you on the road and assumed they did. Are you seriously telling me you swam in that?” He pointed toward the streak of white foam.
“I swam across it. Not in it. I’m not stupid.”
“I beg to differ!” His voice went up. “People die in this area every year. Stupid tourists who think they’re strong enough to— What the hell were you thinking?”
“That I wanted to get back to the hotel.” She’d seen Roman angry before, especially that first day, but nothing like this. He wasn’t just irritated. There was a quality beneath his flush of rage that hinted at desperation. She could see him fighting for control, visibly struggling, but his temper exploded out of him anyway.
“You could have died!” he shouted. The curses that followed weren’t exactly aimed at her, but they had enough color to take her aback.
She stared, wide-eyed in astonishment as he paced away a few feet, looked across the water, slammed another look her direction that was so outraged it should have knocked her overboard, then smacked his fist onto the rail.
“Don’t you ever do anything so reckless again. Do you hear me? No matter how sad you are about losing your mother or how angry you are at me, you do not act as if your life means nothing. You’re smarter than that. You’re—” He pressed his finger and thumb into his eye sockets, shoulders bowing for a moment. “The world needs more people like you. Don’t act as though you’re disposable.”
He threw himself away from the rail and disappeared into the interior of the yacht.