The Best Of Me

The thought came like a warm breeze across her body. As Chris neared the shore, he scooped her up in his arms, walking toward the boathouse. “You ever made love in a hammock before?”

Lucy looked up thoughtfully, hoping he couldn’t tell her heart was beating so fast. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”

“Well, then, let me initiate you.” He deposited her in the hammock, not even waiting for it to stop swinging before dropping down on top of her.

The sun shone in the window next to them, lighting his green eyes to match the sparkling water outside. She reached up and placed her palms on either side of his face as he worked her wet skirt down.

He nibbled across her skin while his fingers took her right to the edge of ecstasy. She could feel the soft tip of him sliding up and down her thigh, and she was sure she’d never wanted a man the way she wanted Chris.

A sound escaped her mouth as she arched and drowned in waves of pleasure. He made a similar sound when she reached for him, gliding her fingers up and down the length of him in a slow rhythm that coincided with the swinging of the hammock….

Dear Readers,

Readers often wonder where authors get their ideas. The Best of Me was inspired by a news story on the show Inside Edition. Ric O’Barry, the man who trained the original Flipper dolphins, now spends his life fighting for the rights of captive dolphins. In the news story he had gained custody of a dolphin in Brazil and was repatriating him to the wild. I, like many people, am mystified by the dolphin, so a man who sacrifices his own personal happiness and well-being to save them is a hero in my book. Through a series of quirky events, I was able to meet Ric O’Barry. Not only was he fascinating, but his book, Behind the Dolphin Smile was an important resource. I thank him for his invaluable help, and for being a hero in the truest sense of the word.

I must also extend my gratitude to Bill, who spent time with me at Key West Aquarium showing me how an aquarium works, even the back rooms no one usually sees.

Now, for my fictional hero Chris Maddox, I needed a match, a woman who was strong, yet tender enough to touch my jaded hero’s heart. Of course, she’s also his total opposite. But these two people bring out the best in each other and make them question the things they hold dear.

Tina Wainscott

P.S. Please visit my Web site! www.tinawainscott.com

The Best of Me

Tina Wainscott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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My deepest gratitude to Ric O’Barry, founder of the Dolphin Project. This book would not have existed without him. And for all the heroes who work to free captive dolphins. Those heroes include the ones who work in the background, who support the Dolphin Project and similar organizations, and everyone who picks up a pen to write to someone who can make a difference.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

1

LUCY DONOVAN pulled her luggage beneath the arched, faded sign that read, Sonny’s Marine Park—See Randy the Dolphin! She took a deep breath and stared at the first word because Sonny wouldn’t be there. Her father had died, leaving the daughter he’d hardly spoken with in twelve years his park in Nassau, Bahamas. She felt silly at the sting of tears behind her eyes, at the deep sense of loss. She’d hardly known him.

According to her mother, Sonny was a lazy, good-for-nothing bum. To Lucy, he was a free spirit, an explorer, maybe even a pirate. Though her life reflected her mother’s values, somewhere in Lucy’s soul flowed the blood of the great adventurer she imagined him to be.

She swiped at her eyes and forged on. The ticket booth doubled as a gift shop with displays of key chains and shells. A young man with brown hair nodded as she approached.

“Hi, I’m Lucy Donovan, Sonny’s daughter. I’m supposed to see a Bailey.”

His face broke into a smile that combined relief and welcome. “Boy, are we glad to see you, Lucy, and welcome to Sonny’s. I’m Bill. Bailey’s in the office over there.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

She paused just inside the gate, finding it hard to believe she owned this park right on the ocean. To her left, several in-ground pools sparkled in the sunshine, one with a group of people clustered around it. A sign announced a square tank of water as the Touching Tank. People picked up conch shells and crabs and examined the creatures with wonder. Everyone made her feel overdressed, even though she’d taken off her linen jacket the moment she’d stepped off the plane and succumbed to the muggy heat.

She headed to a small building snugged next to a larger one with a sign over its gaping entrance that read Aquariums. Inside the office, a thin black man stood by a battered desk, rubbing his temples and clutching the phone. The desk and shelves were cluttered with papers and seashells.

The man picked up a letter. “But dere has to be some mistake, mon. Yah, I see the man’s signature, but…so I cannot even shoot him? Okay, okay. No, I won’t shoot him, I promise.” The lyrical way he spoke made her smile despite his annoyance. He dropped the phone into the cradle.

She stepped forward, her hand extended. “You must be Bailey. I’m Lucy Donovan, Sonny’s—”

“A yu, Miss Lucy! Yah, I see Sonny in you, same brown eyes and hair, same length, too.” She touched her shoulder-length hair, but he rambled on. “Am I glad to see you, yes I am. We have a problem, a big problem. The man out dere is tiefing da big fish. A wicked man, dat one. He come dis morning and say he taking our fish. Nobody will come to da park if dere’s no big fish, and without people you got no money, no money means no park, and no park means no job, no job means no food. I got five childrens to feed, an’ t’ree goats.” He took a deep breath. “Miss Lucy, you got to kick the wicked man outta here.”

Cleaning out her father’s place and deciding what to do about the park she now owned was part of her agenda. So was finding out what her father was really like at the risk of her fanciful dreams. Kicking out some wicked man was not on the list of things she wanted to tackle.

“You said a man was tiefing?”

“Tiefing. Stealing. He be taking our main fish, Randy. Come, I show you.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, but he kept walking. “How can someone steal a fish?”

She followed him toward the cluster of people. All she knew about fish was to make sure it was fresh and thoroughly cooked. This knowledge probably wasn’t going to help much. But she did know subordinate workers.

She slipped on her jacket, effecting her boss persona, and asked Bailey, “Does anyone else work here?”

“No, jus’ me, Bill, and Big Sonny, him being in da past tense of course.”

The crowd mumbled and grumbled. “Hey, we paid to see a perr-formin’ dolphin,” a large man drawled. “That guy says we can’t go near him. What kind of deal is this, anyway?”

“Yeah, I want my money back,” another chimed in.

“Me, too! I heard about these island rip-off artists.”

“Nooo, no rip artists here, mon.” Bailey turned to give her a woeful look, then raised his palms and turned back to the crowd. “We’re working on da problem, mon. Go play wit’ da conchs and crabs in da Touching Tank, and we get da big show ready. Go, go,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

They moved away, but didn’t leave. Obviously they thought a better show was about to be performed. Lucy’s throat went dry, but anger prickled through her at the thought of some man stealing the main attraction. What nerve. She pushed back her sleeves and stepped up to the knee-high fence that surrounded all the pools.

The man standing in chest-deep water on a platform paid absolutely no attention to anything but the large form circling in the pool with him. He was probably in his early thirties, with blond hair burnished gold by the sun. His curls grazed the tops of strong, tan shoulders. Quite possibly he had one of the nicest chins she’d ever seen, strong and perfectly shaped. Something warm tickled through her. He could be an attraction himself: See Gorgeous Guy in Pool!

Bailey nudged her, and she blinked in disbelief. Good grief, she was supposed to kick the man out, not ogle him!

“Excuse me,” she said, leaning over the fence. “Man in the pool.”

The man pulled a fish out of a bucket. The big fish moved closer and popped its head out of the water. Oh, it was a dolphin like Flipper! Ridges of tiny teeth lined its open mouth, and for a moment she worried about the man’s long fingers. The big fish caught its supper in midair, landing with a graceful splash. The crowd clapped sporadically, but the man didn’t even glance up.

“Excuse me,” she said, louder this time. “Please get out of the pool so we can discuss this.”

He glanced up at her then, insolence in vivid eyes the color of the sparkling ocean beyond him. She felt her stomach twist. Before she could even admonish herself for getting caught up in his eyes, he’d turned back to the dolphin.

The pattern in the concrete made her heels a little shaky, but she stepped over the gate and the sign he’d obviously put up that said Keep Out, and walked to the edge. No one ignored Lucy Donovan. Running her own advertising company had given her an edge of authority, and if she could get past those eyes, she’d have him bowing in acquiescence in no time. The thought of him bowing in front of her also did strange things to her stomach.

She planted her hands on her hips, and in her best bosslike tone, said, “Out of the pool now, mister.”

“Lady, if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up in the pool. Some of the tiles around the edge are loose.”

“You think you can scare me away with a few loose tiles?” She glanced back at the crowd that probably thought this was some kind of skit. “Who are you and what right do you have to be in this pool? This is private property.” Her private property.

The dolphin popped out of the water and caught the fish again. The crowd clapped. Anger surged. Forget his eyes! This guy is wicked, she thought, walking around to the side behind the dolphin.

“I want an answer or I’m calling the authorities.”

“I already explained everything to that guy,” the man said, waving vaguely toward Bailey but not looking at anyone but the big fish.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Since I’m the owner, why don’t you explain it to me?”

The strength from her last statement trickled away when he turned those eyes on her, and she saw disgust. “You’re the owner?”

Her shoulders stiffened. “Yes. And I want to know why you’re molesting my fish.”

Well, now she had his attention. He swam toward her, the sun glistening off his wet shoulders. She sensed a fight brewing and geared her body toward it. In one slick movement he shoved himself out of the pool and stood to face her. Or look down at her, as it were. Water ran in rivulets down a chest sprinkled with fine, golden hair. He wore one of those little swimming trunk things that outlined everything, and she wasn’t going to look anymore. On a black cord around his neck he wore a shark’s tooth. She looked up to meet his eyes, refusing to be intimidated by him, his height, or his eyes. Or what the deep blue trunks revealed. A warm breeze washed over her, making her aware of the fine sheen of perspiration on her face.

He crowded closer into her zone. “First of all, that is not a fish. He’s a mammal like you and me, only not as selfish and greedy and inhumane. That dolphin has been living in a chlorinated pool that has bleached his skin white and has made his eyes nearly close. Dolphins are made to swim out there.” He gestured toward the open ocean. “Not in that little swimming pool. His snout’s beat up from bumping against the sides. This very social creature has lived alone for six years. His only company is some guy who makes him do tricks for a bunch of people who think it’s neat to see a dolphin jump and twirl for his meals, which have, up until today, consisted of frozen mullet. To you and me, that’s like eating dog food. Frozen dog food.”

She didn’t think it was possible, but he moved even closer. “You have stripped from that dolphin everything that makes him a dolphin. His pod and all the hierarchy and social activities that go with it, the thrill of the chase, the feel of the open, endless ocean, the fun of life, and if you want to get right down to it, you’ve robbed his soul. He was going to die in that pool, and you would have been responsible. My name is Chris Maddox. I’m the founder of the Free Dolphin Society, and I’ve been given authority by the Bahamian government to repatriate this dolphin to the wild.”

He touched his finger to her collarbone, sending little shock waves through her chest. “I’m not going anywhere without this dolphin. Got it?”

Anger turned to guilt as his words spiked through her. She shifted away from him—and something moved under her heel. The tile tilted, and she lost her balance. Arms flailing, she fell toward the sparkling water with that huge form moving beneath it. Dignity be damned, she thought, as a scream tore from her throat. Her fingers slid across Chris’s slick skin as she tried to grab for anything. She felt his hands on her arms, but it was too late. Momentum was doing its thing, and they both tumbled into the pool.

She came to the surface with a loud gasp, shoving herself toward the shallow platform. Chris came up a second later, flicking his head back and sending a spray of water behind him. And the big fish…the dolphin swam toward her.

She felt her eyes bulge out in panic. “Get it away from me!”

When she turned to Chris for help, her fear bubbled to anger. He was laughing! Then the sound of more laughter filled the air. She turned toward the clapping crowd. The only person not laughing was Bailey. He looked shell-shocked. She pressed her palm to her forehead, and then realized she was still in the pool with the big fish. Its head was now out of the water, and even it seemed to be grinning at her.

“This is not funny,” she said to no one in particular, pushing wet strands of hair from her face. She hated the tremble that crept through her voice. “Just keep that fish away from me.”

“He’s not a fish, he’s a dolphin,” Chris corrected again, though he still had the same kind of grin on his face the dolphin had.

“Fine, please keep the dolphin away while I get out of here.”

Her linen pants felt leaden as she turned to the side of the pool. Earlier he had pressed down on the edge and lifted himself right out of the water. But he wasn’t wearing wet pants or heels, and she didn’t have the muscles he did.

“Need some help?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

She kicked off her expensive, and ruined, pumps and threw them onto the concrete deck. Then she pushed up on the edge. If only she could manage a shred of dignity…that was not to be the case, she realized as she shoved and grunted and not even Bailey moved from the spot he seemed riveted in.

“Let me help you,” Chris said from behind her.

“I can manage. It’s just that my pants are heav—”

Before she could even finish the sentence, he placed his hands on her behind and pushed her right out of the water. She was so surprised, she almost forgot to do her part, which was grab for the ground and gain her balance. Even then, she could still feel the imprint of his hands on her bottom.

“I’m not sure whether to thank you for being gallant or remark on where you put your hands,” she said, feeling irritated and flustered at once.

A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes as he slipped easily from the pool. “I enjoyed it, too.”

She could only roll her eyes at his attempt to goad her on. When she looked at the small crowd watching with interest, she realized she’d become the sideshow at her own park.

“Bailey, please get these people out of here,” she said, trying not to sound impatient and out of sorts.

He jerked, as if from a trance. “Yes, Miss Lucy, right away.” Before he turned toward the crowd, he said, “Don’t let him take da fish. Remember my six childrens at home starving.”

“You said five before.”

His black face screwed up. “Did I? Well, six counting da goat.”

“You said you had three goats.”

He paused for a minute, then smiled. “Two are only visitin’.”

She shook her head and waved him away. When she turned back to Chris, he was watching her with a curious expression. At least he wasn’t crowding her zone. She knew about business power plays and how body zones worked, and she didn’t much like when they were used on her.

“Can we go into the office and talk about this like two businesspeople?” she asked, trying to ignore the rivers of water running down her legs and pooling at her stocking feet.

He glanced down at his nearly naked self. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Miz Lucy—” that last part in Bailey’s accent “—I’m not a business person, and this isn’t negotiable. I gave your employee the letter that states the dolphin is mine. That should clear the matter up.” Then he slid back into the pool in one liquid movement and waded to the bucket of fish. She followed him and crouched by the side, careful of the edge this time.

“What you said about this dolphin, about the chlorinated pool, and the snout….”

“What you’re doing to this dolphin is cruel and inhumane. Liberty—or Randy as you call him—wasn’t put on this earth to entertain us. Dolphins are probably smarter than we are. How would you like to live in something like this day in and out, eating trash fish, and having to suffer the indignity of performing to get even that? To look at white walls instead of the endless variety the ocean and the reefs offer?”

Liberty poked his head out of the water as if to second Chris’s words, or probably to get the shiny fish he held. Her heart twisted when she saw the bruises on Liberty’s snout. Then she realized that Chris thought she was the one who had been running this park all along.

“I haven’t done anything to this dolphin.”

“You said you were the owner.”

“I just inherited it from my father, Sonny Boland. I didn’t even know he owned this park, or where he even was for most of my life.” Why was she telling him all this? Stick to the facts, Lucy. “Anyway, I arrived today, and Bailey told me about a man stealing a big fish.” He rolled his eyes, and she added, “I know, I know, it’s a dolphin.”

He reached out to touch Liberty, but the dolphin shied away. Another fish lured him close again, but Chris didn’t try to touch him this time. He was again immersed in his world, and she had faded into oblivion. If she had any dignity whatsoever, she would walk away. Just get up and hold her soggy shoulders high. Unfortunately, her curiosity overwhelmed any shred of dignity she’d managed to maintain.

“Why do you call him Liberty?” She glanced up at the banner. “His name is Randy.”

“Calling dolphins by human names encourages people to humanize them, so I renamed him Liberty.”

“What are you going to do with him?” she asked after a few awkward minutes of silence. She wanted to change into dry clothes, but she couldn’t leave without his acknowledging that she wasn’t an evil person who abused dolphins. Though she didn’t explore why that was so important.

“I have to untrain him, teach him how to catch live fish and to live in the wild again. He’s come to depend on humans and their language now. He has to learn to be a dolphin again, to use his sonar.”

He hadn’t glanced up at her even once as he’d spoken. She wanted to see something other than disdain in his eyes. She ran her hands down her pant legs, squishing water out of them.

“What do you mean, his sonar?”

His fingers made circles on the water’s surface. “Dolphins use echolocation sonar to map out their surroundings the same way we use our eyes. They send out signals that bounce back to their lower jaw, telling them where they are and where their prey is. Here in this shallow pool, the signals bounce crazily back to him, so he stopped using them.”

Sonar? It sounded so high-tech, so…advanced. She watched Liberty circle, trying to imagine what he saw down there. White walls. Chris’s legs. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The sun glistened off his wet curls as he shook his head. “Just leave me and Liberty alone, and we’ll be fine.”

He hadn’t even thanked her for offering. Still hadn’t looked at her. He reached for Liberty, and again the dolphin shied away. As she watched Chris, she wondered if her father wasn’t like him, other than the dolphin-saving thing.

“Is this what you do for a living? You said something about a free dolphin society.”

“I am the Free Dolphin Society. I travel around to different abusement parks and work on freeing the dolphins trapped there.”

“Abusement parks? Is that what this is?”

“For this dolphin, yes. I don’t know how the other creatures are treated.”

She looked around, but couldn’t tell from where she was crouched. The park looked clean, if old. “Do you think my father was being cruel or just thoughtless?” She was surprised to find him looking at her when she turned back to him. More surprised at the effect that gaze had on her.

“I only met the man once, when I first came to investigate claims of neglect. It was probably a little of both. Liberty here eats about fifteen pounds of fish a day, so Sonny bought the cheap stuff. He didn’t want to mess with filtering in fresh seawater or even making phony salt water, so he put chlorine and copper sulfide in the pool. Your father was upping the profit margin, and Liberty was paying the price. Now I’m pumping in seawater, and hopefully he’ll be able to open his eyes all the way soon.”

“Will he bite? I mean, was I in any danger when I fell in?”

A smirk tugged at the edges of his mouth, and she bet he had a great smile, if he ever did smile. Of course he was probably laughing at her expense, remembering how she must have looked, all arms and legs and terror.

“The only thing in danger was your dignity. Dolphins are pretty docile in captivity.” He tossed Liberty the last of the fish in the bucket and rubbed his hands together under the water. He lifted an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t your spirit be broken if you were held captive?”

She shivered at the thought, watching Liberty as he waited patiently for more fish, his head bobbing. “Probably,” she answered at last, meeting Chris’s gaze across the sparkling water. “Dolphins are your life, aren’t they?”

“Yep.” Chris lifted himself from the pool and grabbed a towel. “How long are you here for, anyway?”

“A week. It’s all I can get away with.”

He nodded, rubbing the towel through his curls. Then she realized he only wanted to know how long he had to put up with her. When he stopped near her, he looked down at the clothing plastered to her body. She wasn’t sure if she imagined the gleam of appreciation, but he offered her his towel before she could consider it further.