Touch Me and Tango (11 page)

While Miles teased Billy about it, Parker retreated into his
thoughts. Two guesses who the new teacher was.

“By the way, Parker,” Billy said, “this lady is smoking hot.
If I were you, I’d ask my sister for an intro.”

They rounded the island’s southeastern corner. Parker slowed
up. And for good reason. A white mix of foam and spray exploded into the air as
waves broke against a chain of mean-looking boulders that jutted out from the
beach a hundred yards into the Sound.

His fishing boat was an old one he’d refurbished. A
twenty-two foot Robalo. No cabin or anything. Just a shiny white hull, a couple
bucket seats up front and a bench across the back where he kept fishing
supplies.

Tanya sat next to him, the wind making her hair fly about.
She’d dressed in sneakers, tight jeans and a snug jersey. And looked sexy as
hell. Sitting this close to her wasn’t easy. Especially when she kept so
silent.

Was she pissed about him showing up at the house sale with
Alix Nicole? Or maybe she was still half-asleep? For years he’d awakened
wishing Tanya were in bed with him and wondering what she’d be like in the
early morning.

He took the boat in closer and coasted toward the small dock
before switching off the engine. He glanced at Tanya. “You all right?”

She shot a testy look at him. “Of course. Why shouldn’t I
be?”

“You barely grunted two words the whole trip.”

“So?”

“Just wondered if you were upset over something.”

“What would I be upset over?”

If this was any indication of her mood, today was going to
be an absolute joy. “I don’t know. You tell me.” He didn’t bother waiting for
the answer.

Parker hopped from the side of the boat onto the dock. He
got down on one knee and tightened the line around the piling, his pale blue
windbreaker wet from the spray and clinging to his frame.

Tanya passed him the duffle bag with tools, the metal
detector, two shovels and pickaxe. Setting things down, he reached his hand out
for her as she hoisted herself onto the dock. They divvied up the gear and
marched across the sand toward dense stands of trees, mostly oak and pitch
pine.

Salt air and the sound of waves blended with a chorus of
songbirds and forest scents. Peaceful and exhilarating. “Let’s do this,” Parker
said, trying for a game mood.

But after two hours of trudging through dense grasses and
rocky soil, unable to decide which place seemed to match the instructions on
the map, frustrations grew. “Don’t these flies and mosquitoes ever let up?”
Tanya complained.

“They wouldn’t be quite as bad if we’d gotten here earlier.
But you needed your beauty sleep.”

“Don’t start.”

“You’re the one who’s been cranky all morning.” Parker
pulled the map from his backpack. “Something’s off. And I think it’s us.” He
held the paper out at an angle so Tanya could share a glimpse.

“I don’t get it,” she said, gulping a swig from her water
bottle. “We’ve been following the streambed the whole time.”

“Except eighty years ago when your uncle was alive it wasn’t
a dried up bed but a stream with running water.”

“Running. Not running. What’s the difference? The bed marks
out the same place.”

“Maybe not. Land changes over time. Streams can change
course.”

“Yeah. So you said.” Tanya slumped to the ground and sat
cross-legged. “I need a break anyway.”

He sat on the ground next to her and couldn’t help thinking
of when they were nineteen and used to meet in the woods behind her parents
house to make love. He remembered how great it used to feel touching her,
having her in his arms, knowing she was his.

Except she never really had been his. She’d made that all
too clear in the end.

Tanya dug into her shoulder bag. Parker tried not to laugh
at the fashionable pink leather tote she’d brought as a knapsack.

She pulled out a plastic sandwich bag. “My mother was all
excited about our excursion. She made us sandwiches. Want one?”

“Sure. Thanks.” He unwrapped one and bit into it. Then took
some water to wash down the awful taste. “What’s in this?”

Tanya lifted one side of the bread. “Oh. This is one of
Mom’s peanut butter and tomato specials. Sorry, Parker. My mother never cooked
a day in her life and her latest foray into economical cuisine is less than
stellar.”

“Actually, it’s not too bad on second bite.”

“True.”

He pointed to his right. “We’ll start combing along the
northeastern side of the bank and work our way around.”

“Great. Without landmarks that’ll only take us six years.”

“I’m betting there’s another stream up there.”

“I don’t get the metal detector. Aren’t most steamer trunks
made of wood?”

“They were painted with zinc, which is a semi-metal. And it
would have metal locks.”

Tanya shrugged and chewed the last of her sandwich. “Ready
when you are.”

This route was rockier than the last, and Parker feared
Tanya would turn an ankle. He knew how important her legs were to her career,
but he also knew she’d be insulted if he tried to hold her arm and guide her.
His eyes stayed on her; he told himself it was only to keep her from falling.

She gave him a half-smile. “I thought we agreed the little
swirly lines were suppose to represent trees?”

“Well, maybe we were wrong.”

“So what else could they be? Hills? Rocks?”

“Let’s take another look at the map.”

Their heads bent close to study it. Neither said a word.
Parker could feel her eyes on him. He looked up and a silent spark passed
between them. The same kind of spark that used to happen right before they
would end up in each other’s arms. She turned quickly away.

Parker folded the map and started forward, not really sure
where he was going. Not really sure of anything anymore.

“Admit it we’re lost. Aren’t we?”

“Maybe.”

Twenty minutes later the metal detector caught his
attention. “Hold it. Picking up a UBO.”

“What’s that?”

He grinned at her. “Unidentified buried object.”

They started digging. And digging. Tanya moaned, “You and
your HBO, or whatever. Does that thing work? It sure cost enough.”

Parker wiped the sweat-soaked hair from his brow and kept
digging. “We’ll see.”

Clink
.

The sound they wanted to hear.

“It’s flat,” Tanya said. “And black.”

He dropped to his knees and brushed a layer of dirt from its
surface. “It’s no steamer trunk. That’s for sure.” He wriggled it loose and
held it up a frying pan. “Got any eggs?”

“Sorry. Not in the mood for jokes. All I want is that darn
trunk.”

Parker held the detector to the bottom of the hole. “Nothing
here.”

“What made you pick this part of the island anyway?”

“Sometimes the land has a look to it. As if it’s giving us
clues. There are times when you need to tune in. Hear its message.”

She glanced at him sideways and snickered. “I think you’ve
been talking to plants too long.”

“Maybe.”

“And will you stop with all these maybes?”

“Will you stop acting like a spoiled little girl?”

“Spoiled?” She dug her shovel into the ground and leaned on
the handle. “I just don’t believe in wasting time on esoteric bullshit.”

“You don’t get it.” He gazed at Tanya and wondered how he
could be so hooked on a woman this stupid and difficult. In the tense silence
that followed, he slipped on his backpack, threw the duffle bag over his
shoulder, clutched his metal detector in one hand and shovel in the other.

“What are you doing?”

“Grab your stuff. We’re done for the day.”

“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t just walk off the job because I
said something that pissed you off. I’m not spending all summer doing this.”

“Boat leaves in ten minutes. Be there, or have a nice swim.”

Tanya dropped her shovel and stepped up to him. “Same old
boring, methodical Parker. No sense of adventure or excitement.”

“Same old Tanya. Still an impulsive adolescent. Never seeing
what’s right in front of your face.”

“Better than plodding along and going nowhere.”

“Since when is running away the equivalent of going
somewhere?” He knew by the fury in her eyes that he hit a nerve on that one. He
turned and started walking.

Tanya reached for her plastic water bottle, set her feet in
place like a quarterback going for the bomb, cocked her arm and hurled it full
force at his head. The plastic bottle whizzed by his left ear, off the mark by
a fraction.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Missed.”

She trotted after him. “Must I remind you that you were
hired to help me do this?”

“I’m done. Get somebody else to be your lackey. Spoiled,
self-absorbed bitch.”

“You know, I thought maybe you’d changed, but I can see
you’re as rigid as ever.”

“Better rigid than frigid.”

“Cute one-liner. But while I have my faults, we both know
frigidity was never one of them.”

“There are other ways of being cold. But you wouldn’t
understand that. You never did before, why should you now?”

She scooted around him, cutting him off, fists balled at her
sides. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really want to go there?”

“Yeah,” she said, blocking his way. “Maybe it’s time we
cleared the air. Since you obviously have a lot on your mind today.”

“Okay. You asked for it. You’re still the same stuck up
phony. The same girl that told me I didn’t meet up to your high standards. I
was too small town. A local yokel.”

“I never—”

“You told me you wanted a lifestyle the likes of which I
wouldn’t understand. That I wasn’t sophisticated enough for you. That I lacked
ambition.”

“Life isn’t always that simple, Mr. Boy Scout. You forgot
about the things you said to me. Always passing judgment. Like the time I
shared with you my dream of having a penthouse with my own private dance studio
overlooking Central Park. You laughed at me. Told me I was unrealistic. And
that my goals were excessive and overly materialistic. Part of that might be
true. So what? People need dreams. But you made fun of mine because they
weren’t the same as yours. All because I didn’t want to spend my life cloistered
in a small town where everybody knows everybody’s business and drives a Ford
pick-up. To tell you the truth. You could use to get off the farm. Go party in
Paris. Whore it up in Amsterdam. Or at least tie on a drunk in Brooklyn.”

“Are you finished?”

“I think so.”

“Well, I hope it was therapeutic.”

“Definitely. Feel like a kid again. Fresh as a daisy and
good to go.”

“Me, too. And by the way, I quit.”

She turned and stomped off. Parker tried not to stare at her
perfect butt and the sexy way it swayed with each step.

He headed back to the dock, forcing himself to keep moving
even though he was dying to go back and physically drag her to the boat. But as
he neared the beach he heard footsteps running through the brush behind him.
With a relieved sigh, he turned to see Tanya. She gave him a poker face that he
returned in kind.

The ride back to the mainland was a silent one where not a
word was spoken between them.

Getting a handle on her anger and confusion, Tanya put on an
enthusiastic smile and walked through the front door. She hoped her veneer
wouldn’t crack when her mother barraged her with questions about how today went
and if they found anything yet. She’d already decided it would be a bad idea to
tell her that Parker had quit on them.
Because
of me
.

Stepping into the foyer she saw a note on the credenza.
Saved. For now at least. Mom had gone to a late lunch with Joel. She wondered
of he had a chance to go over Eva’s financial papers yet. On Saturday he’d
gotten so involved helping with the house sale she couldn’t bear to ask him to
do more work when it was over.

Tanya lugged her tired body upstairs to her room. The same
room she’d called her own since childhood. A pink-canopied four-poster, blonde
wood dresser and vanity, a paisley upholstered chaise lounge. The wall where
she used to hang photos of herself dressed for dance recitals now also held
framed clippings as well as posters of Tanya dancing everywhere from Stockholm
to Osaka. Dear Mom. How sweet that she’d collected all these and taken the time
to mount them. Something she would never have done in the days when Dad was
still around. She’d always been too pre-occupied making herself beautiful for
hubby. Lot of good it did.

Tanya showered, wrapped herself in a warm terry robe and curled
up in the window seat. Her feelings still raw from the argument with Parker,
she gazed out at the gardens that used to be so beautiful when he and his
father had worked here. She remembered the first time she saw him wielding a
shovel and hoe in the soft morning light. Between his virile, warrior-style
physique, the quiet intensity of his focus and a face straight out of her
dreams, she hadn’t been able to pull herself away from the window. Watching him
had become one of her favorite pastimes.

Until she decided to have a taste of him.

She’d thought that was all it would be. A little
tease-and-taste with the gardener’s son. Instead she found herself needing
another dose of him, and another, and another. No wonder she had to get away
from him.

Her fingers toying with the white lace curtains, she pulled
her knees to her chest and rested her cheek on one knee. She couldn’t deny
those horrible things he said, making her sound like a despicable person. She
just never realized he hated her so much.

Maybe she could talk her mom into selling the house so she
could get out of here. Go back to London. Let Parker call to and find out she
was gone.