Chapter 1
A month later
Dante eased from the depths of the waters, feeling calmer than he’d been in a long time.
His father had always said that he must have been a fish in another life, because he always had a hard time getting Dante out of the water.
Shaking his head to shed some water from his hair, he smiled.
With his personality, it was more likely he’d been a shark rather than a fish.
A great white shark. Fish were easy prey for all kinds of creatures, whereas the only predator a shark had to avoid was the killer whale.
And although orcas were known to roam the beaches along the Oregon Coast, none ever came this close to shore. So Dante was safe.
He glanced up at the sky and saw the first sign of dawn as he began doing a number of free-style strokes, followed by breast strokes, backstrokes, and butterflies.
Swimming was the most vigorous form of exercise, and there were so many benefits to doing it every day.
He swam most mornings as a rule, but while he was here in Wild Rose Point, he took a dive in the water whenever he felt like it.
The Pacific Ocean was known for being cold, even during the hottest summer months.
But that didn’t bother him. He went swimming, regardless of what time of day or night.
A short while later, an hour longer than he would usually remain on the beach once the sun came up, Dante swam toward the shoreline.
When he arrived a month ago, the two homes next to his had been vacant.
Now it seemed someone was occupying the one right next door, where Ms. Della used to live.
He had seen the lights on two nights ago while sitting outside on his screened-in patio and figured the occupants must have arrived when he’d been paying a visit to the Seaglass Saloon.
He hadn’t seen anyone--not even a glimpse.
He figured there had to be a reason the people staying next door hadn’t ventured to the beach yet.
Maybe they were newlyweds, who had their own reasons for staying inside.
Still, he couldn’t understand why someone would rent a place on the scenic Oregon coast, with the ocean practically in their backyard, and not enjoy it.
But he wouldn’t complain. Until someone emerged, he had this entire stretch of beach to himself.
Only it looked like he’d spoken too soon.
When he got out of the water, wrapped the towel around his waist, and began heading back to his place, he saw the door to the house next to his open, and a woman with a big floppy straw hat on her head, a huge tote bag flung over her shoulder, and a huge beach towel under her arm stepped out.
She was wearing a flower-printed cover-up that stopped mid-thigh, and from the way it fit, he could tell she was blessed with natural curves.
She detected his presence and, when she saw him, went still. Their gazes met, and he was taken aback by her beauty. She had a perfect set of full lips, high cheekbones, and a contoured chin in an almond- colored face. And her eyes… Those silver-gray eyes.
He remembered meeting someone with the same eye color on this beach many summers ago. She had been visiting Ms. Della. Could it be the same person? Deciding to find out, he called the name, “Martina?”
The woman took a step back and looked as if she’d take off running if he came any closer. He could understand her surprise that a stranger would know her name. Only it wasn’t surprise in her eyes—it was stark terror.
“Am I supposed to know you?” she asked in a shaky voice, taking another step back as she squinted at him against the sun, studying his features.
He took a step back to put her at ease. “You did at one time, although it’s been years. We met one summer, when we were just kids here on this beach. I was thirteen, and you were around seven or eight.”
He paused as memories of that summer came back to him. “And if I recall right,” he added, “you had a younger sister; however, I don’t remember her name.” But he did recall that both sisters had silver gray eyes, and Martina was the one with the dimples.
From the movement of her chest, he could tell she’d released a relieved breath. He couldn’t help wondering what had her so spooked in broad daylight. Then that question dissolved from his thoughts when she smiled, and he saw those dimples.
“My sister’s name is Kara and you’re right, I was eight that summer. I remember you now. You’re Dante.”
“Yes, I’m Dante Avera.”
“Dante, that was close to twenty-nine years ago. You saved my life that summer,” she said.
He nodded and couldn’t resist moving a few steps closer. Whatever perfume she was wearing was definitely enticing. “And after that, my father had to save mine,” he said.
On that day, so long ago, she had swum out too far, trying to retrieve her sister’s floating toy.
When she had suffered a leg cramp before reaching it, and called out for help, he had jumped into the ocean to save her.
Once he’d brought her back to shore, he had swum out to get the toy himself when suddenly, he had become caught in a riptide.
Luckily for Dante, his father had glanced out the kitchen window and had seen what was happening.
Refusing to lose his only son less than three years after losing his wife, Mario raced toward the beach and dived into the ocean.
Displaying the skills that had earned him the captaincy of the Harvard Swim Team, Mario saved his son’s life.
“Promise you won’t be swimming too far out this time. I’m not sure I’d have the stamina to save you now,” Dante said, smiling.
***
Marti wasn’t so sure about that. The last time she saw him, he had been a lanky boy in braces. But that had definitely changed. Standing before her was a tall, well-built, handsome man with a body that looked like he had the stamina for anything.
For the past two mornings, she had watched him through her bedroom window, and the sight of him─ with his near-perfect physique─ rising from beneath the waters at dawn, with rugged sea stacks lining the ocean as picturesque backdrops, had made her very glad she was a woman.
And that smile he was displaying now? Lordy!
Beautiful white teeth, a beautiful pair of lips, and a hint of a dimple in his left cheek only added to his sexiness.
He looked younger than a man in his forties and could easily pass for someone in their mid-thirties.
That meant, aside from good genetics, he probably took extremely good care of himself.
She didn’t see a single wrinkle in his face or a strand of gray hair on his head.
She assumed, as he had done the past two days, that he would have finished his swim and returned to his place by now.
She would not have ventured out had she known he was still on the beach.
And although she knew the house next door was occupied, she never dreamed it would be someone she had met years ago.
And now she was standing here, taking in everything about him, while remembering the wonderful times they’d had as kids on this same beach.
That summer, he had been her hero. But unfortunately, that had been the last time she had seen him. For years following the incident, she’d been haunted by the memories of nearly losing her life and hadn’t wanted to return to her grandmother’s beach house.
Marti fought not to stare but couldn’t help it--he was so darn easy on the eyes. And she noted that his hair was still just as long as hers. Thinking back, she recalled that his father had also worn his hair long, too. According to her grandmother, they were full-blooded Italians.
Now, looking at him, she was noticing things that an eight-year-old would not have thought about.
She wished she could ignore how his wet body looked so darn sexy.
Even his hair, which flowed past his shoulders, was dripping water down his broad chest and well-defined abs. No wonder he could still swim so well.
Since she was thirty-seven, he was probably around forty-two, which meant there was a five-year age difference between them.
She studied his facial features… His Italian heritage was striking.
He had a prominent, angular jawline, a strong chin, and high, sculpted cheekbones with olive-toned skin.
He was sinfully gorgeous, and she battled against the naughty thoughts that suddenly consumed her.
Like…how she was tempted to lick those drops of water falling onto his chest…
and lower, down his firm stomach. Lordy, she simply refused to look at him below the waist, although she was sorely tempted.
“So, Martina, what have you been doing for the past twenty-nine years?” he asked, his deep husky voice cutting into her salacious thoughts.
She appreciated the intrusion and met his eyes. They were dark brown eyes, perfect for his skin tone. “Well, for one thing, very few people call me Martina anymore. I’m Marti now and have been since high school.”
“Then, Marti it is,” he said. “How’s your sister? I remember how protective you were of her. You took your role of big sister seriously that summer.”
That was true and hadn’t changed until a few years ago, when her obsessive protectiveness had nearly caused a permanent rift between them, nearly destroying their close relationship. It had taken some time, but Kara had finally forgiven her.
Marti smiled. “Kara is fine. She’s married to a great guy and lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. They have beautiful three-year-old twin daughters, and are expecting their third child in a couple of months. They already know it will be a boy.”
“What about you?” he asked.
She raised a brow. “What about me?”
“Are you here alone?”
She paused a moment before answering. “Yes.”
“Are you single, Marti? Divorced? Widowed?”
Marti figured he’d assumed such a thing since she wasn’t wearing a ring. “I’m single. And I never married, so I’m still Marti Goshay.”
“Neither have I,” he said. “My career keeps me busy. I’m the general manager of the Ursula Hotels and Resorts in Sedona Valley.”
“I heard that’s a very nice place.”
“It is. What about you, Marti? I recall your family living somewhere in California. Are you still living there?”
“No. I lived in Charlotte for a number of years. Two years ago, I moved to Billings, Montana, for my job as a CPA Consultant. Last year, I decided to be my own boss and started working for myself. I love the flexibility, but I needed a break. Starting my own business was draining, both mentally and physically.”
She paused and then asked conversationally, “How’s your father? I remember him being a really nice man. A lot of fun.”
Marti saw the pain that suddenly filled his dark eyes. “Dad was killed in a skiing accident a few years ago.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I recall how close the two of you were.
You and your dad did practically everything together.
He was so unlike Nana, who was up there in age and got tired easily.
She often sent us outside to play on our own, just to get us out from under her feet, I think.
” She smiled. “I loved how your dad included us in your daily activities, and he always seemed to have a lot of them lined up.”
He nodded again, remembering those times. “Yes, Dad believed in keeping you active, that’s for sure. He was a very special person.” He paused a moment and then said, “And speaking of your grandmother, I was saddened to hear about Ms. Della. She was a sweet lady.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Nana left her beach house to Kara and me. Since Kara and her husband purchased a second home on Galveston Beach to be close to her in-laws who retired to Houston, she signed this house over to me. This is my first time back here in years.”
She looked up into the sky, needing to break eye contact with him.
His eyes were so mesmerizing… She felt heat pool in her midsection and decided it was time to take a step back.
She couldn’t deal with this kind of attraction—not right now.
Glancing back at him, she said, “From the look of the sun, it’s going to be a hot day.
I’d better head on out to enjoy the beach while I can. It was good seeing you again, Dante.”
“Same here. How long will you be here, Marti?”
“A month. What about you?”
“I’ve been here a month already and intend to stay for another two. It’s been a while since I’ve taken any extended time off from work, and I decided this was the perfect time to do it.”
She nodded. “I’d better get going. It’s good seeing you again.”
“Same here. Enjoy your time on the beach, Marti.”
“I will.”
“And beware of Edgar,” he warned.
She raised a curious brow. “Who’s Edgar?”
“Edgar is the seagull that likes harassing people in the Point.”
She chuckled. “He sounds rather notorious. Has he harassed you?”
“He did my first day on the beach. However, I must have given him some strong ‘don’t mess with me’ vibes because he hasn’t bothered me since.”
“Sounds like you’re a good secret weapon to have around, if Edgar becomes a nuisance. I’ll remember that.”
Dante grinned and gave her what she thought was one sexy wink. “No secret about it, Marti. I’ll be seeing you.”
He turned and walked off toward his house next door. She couldn’t resist ogling him, with that towel wrapped around his middle, shielding those sexy swim trunks she’d seen him wearing on the beach, as he went.
She released a long breath. Now, if she could get her heartbeat back to its normal rhythm, she would be fine.