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  The boat shifted. She lost her balance and stumbled against the hard plane of his back. The ripple of muscle under her palm stalled her pulse. Her survivor’s sensor went off and she jerked back. “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem. Part of being at sea.” He glanced over his shoulder with an impassive eye and then turned back to his task.

  Jolene ditched the used cup and then grabbed two clean ones before she skimmed past him, careful not to touch him again. She retrieved a water bottle and ice from the cooler.

  She’d been under the impression Norris was an active participant in Jackie’s matchmaking scheme, but his actions pointed to one of four things: Either the man was in on the plan and after seeing her decided he wasn’t interested...or he hadn’t known about Jackie’s plan...or Jackie didn’t know he was gay—which was such a waste of manhood for the women of the world—or maybe Norris had known about Jackie’s plot and felt the same way she did. Not interested in a relationship.

  She was intrigued as she wondered which scenario was the truth. “I understand you’re Cape James’ Police Chief.”

  “For the last ten months.” Norris dropped two wedges into each of the ice-filled cups she held and then, without the slightest amount of eye contact, turned his back to her.

  “And before that?” She heard his sharp intake of air. She moved to his side and watched his strong hands squeeze every drop of juice from a couple lemon wedges into a bottle of water in the sink.

  He jammed the rinds through the bottle opening and screwed the cap back on.

  “You’ve been asked the question before...?”

  “I was with the Norfolk Police Department.” His jaw flexed under his beard while he opened a top cabinet and pulled out a box of sandwich bags. He dropped the rest of the lemon slices into the bag and pinched it closed with a solid zip.

  “Did you always want to be a lawman?”

  “Yeah, ever since I saw Tombstone.” He plucked a towel off the hook screwed into the cabinet front and wiped his hands clean. “Are you an Agent Gerard fan? Is that why you chose to work for the U.S. Marshals?”

  She remembered the character Tommy Lee Jones made famous in The Fugitive and pride rushed through her. She snorted under her breath and angled her head back to stare directly at him. “I am a Marshal.”

  “They let you carry?”

  In response to the map of lines crinkling the corners of his twinkling eyes, her fingers compressed the cold cups she held. She presumed Rose had told him she was a secretary for the agency, thus the tease. She wasn’t an egotistical person, but for some reason, in that moment, she wanted Norris to know she was a full-fledged agent. Her pride needed him to know. “Always.”

  His gaze drifted down to her breasts. The responsive bow of his lips was enough to confirm Norris was definitely not gay.

  “FYI. I’m dangerous even without my M&P 9,” she stated flatly.

  His eyes lifted slowly.

  “So am I.” He took the bottle of water she’d retrieved from the cooler and filled the cups, chilling her hands. “Smith & Wesson, huh? I prefer a Glock 22. Why the M&P?”

  “I do a lot of night work.”

  He stopped pouring the water. “Then, you don’t work a desk?”

  “There are reports.” She winked.

  He smiled and then dropped his attention to her arm. “What’s with the bracelet?”

  If her hands were free she would’ve touched the piece of jewelry which held too many memories. Each charm represented a moment in time, especially the dragonfly. She slanted her head and dipped her chin toward his left arm where she noticed a one-line tattoo reaching from the inside of Norris’ wrist to his elbow. “What’s with the tiger?”

  “It’s a Lynx,” he said.

  “Why a Lynx?”

  “I think they’re cute. They have spiky hair on their ears.” His gaze flickered to the top of her head. “And, like I suspect your jewelry does to you, it means something to me.”

  “And what is that?” she asked.

  “That is something I don’t share.”

  “I understand.” Transfixed by the man, Jolene’s heart rate increased. She acknowledged the draw between them, but reined it in. Getting involved with someone, especially an officer of the law, wasn’t on her agenda this week. “We better get up top before rumors fly.”

  “Right behind you.”

  Norris didn’t follow her up the stairs immediately. In fact, she’d just approached Rose at the front of the boat when she finally caught him emerging from the cabin.

  “You were gone for a while.” Rose wore a huge grin. “Did you and Norris hit it off?”

  “We bonded over our weapons of choice, so you don’t have to lie to Jackie.” She handed her friend both cups of water before removing her sarong. Her skin felt flushed despite the breeze. She glanced to the rear of the boat. Norris was perched on the leeward side watching her.

  “Oh, look.” Rose pointed to the sky. “Someone lost their kite.”

  Holding onto her wrap and the lifeline, Jolene turned and shielded her eyes against the sun’s rays. Sponge Bob hovered in the clear sky. Most likely, his string snapped against the ocean gusts and now he free-sailed on the air currents. “I’ll bet you twenty dollars some kid is having a fit.”

  “Not taking the bet,” Rose lazily responded, settling back against the cabin.

  Jolene stared out over the endless body of water and dismissed all thoughts of Sponge Bob.

  Her peaceful state lasted only a few moments before the sea air trapped in her lungs.

  “Sweet Mother Mary.” She unclipped her bracelet. “Catch.” The jewelry clanked against the boat at Rose’s hip, and then her sunglasses did the same.

  The boat dipped.

  She vaulted up and grabbed the shrouds and clung to the thick lines to ensure she didn’t lose her footing on the glossy, wet planking. She scanned the ocean again then climbed over the lifeline. The boat’s bow rose and cut into a swell, cascading water across the bow.

  Behind her, Rose cried, “What the hell are you doing?”

  Jolene curled her toes into the deck while zeroing on where she’d seen something on the ocean.

  “Drop the sails,” she yelled to Norris who’d already jumped to his feet. Without waiting for his response, she dove into the ocean, hoping to save a little part of the world—and steeling herself for the worse.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Should he go for it, or not?

  Maybe hostess Jackie had finally found a woman who could fulfill at least one of his needs.

  Jolene’s bottom was right there in front of his face while he waited for her to climb the steep stairs to the upper deck. The nearly sheer sarong did little to conceal her tight ass. His groin had tightened as he watched the movement of her cheeks.

  Earlier, when Jackie told Norris she and Tony had invited a woman friend, a friend of a friend, to join them on the outing he immediately thought his day off had fallen into the crapper. While waiting to meet the woman, his fingers had twitched against his cell and he’d fought the urge to sneak a call to his deputy and order Warren Pickett to call him back with a false emergency. With the excuse of needing to handle police business he wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings and could get the hell out of meeting Jackie’s “perfect match” for him.

  Jackie was a good person, but she didn’t understand he wasn’t interested in finding the right woman. The perfect woman for him didn’t exist, and that fact had been proven. It was the reason he’d applied for and accepted the position of police chief for the coastal town of Cape James and moved the hell away from Norfolk—away from his biggest mistake.

  After his brief conversation with the pixie U.S. Marshal and especially after noting the way her breasts pressed harder against the fabric of her swimsuit when his gaze lingered on them, Norris felt Jolene might be open for a night of hot, sweaty sex while she was home on vacation. He hadn’t slept with a woman in well over a year, ever since the break-up of the century which had
almost landed him in jail. Maybe it was time to get on with his life.

  Hell, a few of his men suggested numerous times over the past month he should hire a hooker and get some release, if only for the sake of their blood pressures and sanity.

  He was the chief of police. Hookers weren’t an option for him, unlike they’d been for a few public servants he’d known over the years.

  He climbed the stairs and saw Jolene headed forward. Should he follow her?

  Norris felt the weight of interest directed toward him and turned to the group, ignoring the grins. They didn’t know what had gone on between him and Jolene below, or what he thought now. He didn’t like people knowing his business. Jolene wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Anyone else need something to drink while I’m playing bartender?”

  Everyone shook their heads to the negative, so he crossed the deck and settled near Grace.

  “So, did you and Jolene talk?” Grace smirked.

  “We did.”

  “And did you hit it off?”

  “Not really. We disagreed on the type of weapon to carry.”

  “That’s all you two talked about? Guns?”

  He shrugged. “What can I tell you? No spark.” Over the top of his cup, he surveyed the ocean, starting with the view over Grace’s head and circling around. Until he saw Jolene climb up on the side of the boat, outboard of the life line.

  He lowered his cup. “What the hell is she doing?”

  Adrenaline dumped into Norris’ bloodstream as he jumped to his feet. He heard Jolene call out: “Drop the sails.” Then he watched as Jolene’s slim body did a perfect arched dive and sliced into the ocean. With a reflex response he used the boat’s lifeline and climbed up on the deck. Where was she?

  When she surfaced he scanned the waters beyond her, in the direction she swam and every muscle in his body tensed. “Lower the main sail, now! Eric, bring the boat around to the port side. Don’t cut it too hard,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  “Oh my, God.” Grace’s nails dug into his arm. “Is that a—?”

  Everyone, except for Eric who remained at the helm, moved to the boat’s side to get a glimpse of what he saw. Their gasps filled his ear.

  Norris grabbed Joseph by the shoulder. “Help Tony with the sails. Quick, man.” He dug his cell phone from his pocket. It displayed three bars. Good. He punched in 9-1-1. While he waited for the connection to complete, he ordered Jackie and Grace to get the life preservers and blankets. Then he shouted over the cry of the luffing sails, “Rose, watch the boat’s bow so Eric doesn’t cut too close to Jolene when he comes about.” He whipped his glasses from his head and tossed them on the seat. Then he ripped off his shirt.

  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

  “This is Chief Stiles. I’m on a sailboat off the shore about two miles south of Morgan’s Pier. We’ve found a floater in the boat lane. Get the Coast Guard out here a.s.a.p. The captain of the For The Good Times will send them our exact coordinates immediately,” he shouted so Tony also heard him. Tony acknowledged with a nod. Norris continued: “Notify the medical team and the examiner. Also, contact life guard stations for any missing persons information. And put all available officers on standby until I know where we’ll put in.” He toed off his shoes.

  “Confirmed Chief Stiles. Coast Guard has been dispatched to your location. Officers on standby. Life guards, medical team and examiner have been notified.”

  As Norris watched, Jolene reached the victim who floated on the sea swells in something that resembled a child’s raft. Bile tickled the back of his throat.

  “Forget the examiner. Floater appears to be alive. Stay on the line.” He handed the phone off to Grace and slung a ring buoy over his shoulder. So much for taking a day off, he thought as he dove overboard.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The moment she tenderly touched the little girl’s soft hair, Jolene knew her life changed forever. She wasn’t sure how, but something primal reared its head. She’d felt the instinct to protect someone, something, hundreds of times but this new need was unique and all consuming.

  Treading water alongside the little rubber raft, Jolene noted the small child’s cherub face and that her shoulders and her arms were fiery red from the sun’s relentless rays.

  “Hey, talk to me,” she said.

  The child’s sunken eyes sent Jolene back in time, to the last second of Stefan’s life. Her heart hitched when the tiny hand slowly lifted from its resting place on the rubber raft and her small stubby fingers brushed her burnt cheek, her lips.

  Without warning, the child scrambled to get out of the raft and in her panic, she clung to Jolene.

  Jolene fought to control the girl, to keep her in the raft, and in the process she dipped below the surface. Salt water laced her throat and nostrils. When she sputtered to the surface again, she spit out a mouthful of salt water and drew in air. Fighting to keep her own anxiety in check was a challenge. She had to remain calm. She wouldn’t drown, but she feared for the child if she gave up the tube entirely.

  “You’re okay, sweetie. I’ve got you.” Jolene struggled to get the girl to remain inside the tube without tipping it over...“Shhhhh.” She treaded water with one hand, moving her feet slowly. She didn’t know how long she could keep herself and a hysterical child afloat in the ocean current and rising swells. “You must sit,” she said with all the calmness she could muster. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let go of you.”

  Long seconds ticked off before the child settled down. The little girl tried to moisten her cracked lips, to speak.

  The ocean waves worked to pull them apart and Jolene held the girl’s hand to ease her fear and to link them as one.

  Something brushed her thigh and Jolene jumped, scanning the water beneath them while the theme from the movie Jaws tr...rumped, tr...rumped in her mind. How could she protect the child, exposed as they were like this? She quickly realized it was the child’s foot that brushed her leg.

  She told herself to remain calm and treaded water lightly. It little to quiet the inner dialogue running around in her head. She had to get the child to safety. They were sitting ducks in the ocean for any number of predators and with the rising seas... She saw the crew on board the sloop working to lower the mainsail and turn the boat around. The boat was now at considerable distance, appearing to be the size of one of those remote-control boats she’d once seen in Central Park, and it seemed to move slower as it turned.

  “Mama,” the child whispered and her eyes drifted shut again though her lips continued to move.

  It was ironic they floated in an enormous body of water, and yet there wasn’t a drop of drinkable water to fend off the child’s thirst.

  “I’m here.” Jolene lightly brushed her fingers over the girl’s scorched soft skin. “I’ll get you something to drink the moment we’re on the boat.”

  “Boat,” the child repeated. Jolene could barely hear the word.

  The child’s hollow mumble raised Jolene’s concern. She scanned the immediate area again. From her vantage point, she could barely see the shoreline. She couldn’t imagine the terror this little girl’s parents must be suffering. She didn’t have a child, but she knew with complete certainty, if anything happened to one of her nieces or nephews she’d be fanatically searching for them.

  Her stomach rolled thinking how the loss of a child would crush Martina and Simon. Then her thoughts returned to this child’s parents.

  She heard a splash behind her and momentarily let go of the inner tube, swinging around with a clenched fist to punch whatever came at them. “Norris.” She expelled the air from her lungs in relief when she saw him swimming toward them.

  He must have dived into the water before the boat sailed past her.

  “Here.” He shoved a buoy at her and floated to the child’s side. “She’s alive?”

  Her arm relaxed somewhat though she continued to cling to the lifebuoy. “Barely. She’s showing signs of acute dehydration.”
/>   “My people have the Coast Guard on the way. And medical attention is standing by.” His eyes turned from examining the girl to her. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me what you saw instead of just jumping overboard?”

  “I don’t know. I saw her. I had to jump.”

  “It could have been a stupid move.”

  Jolene’s jaw clenched. Her impulsive actions were the reason she’d been encouraged to take this vacation and she was tired of this argument.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” She turned her attention back to the child.

  “Look where you are,” he said, floating beside her. “You didn’t know she was alive. You could’ve hurt yourself going after a floater.”

  She checked to make sure the girl was calm, before she swished around to glare at him. “Can we talk about this later?”

  Someone shouted from the boat and they both turned.

  Jolene looked back to Norris. “What did he say?”

  “I think that help will be here in two minutes.”

  The child mumbled.

  “She’s a lucky little girl. Her parents must be going crazy,” Jolene said.

  “We’re checking”—Norris lowered his legs and submerged under a swell. Resurfacing, he spat out seawater—“life guard stations. Soon they’ll know she’s been found.”

  “How do you think she got away from them?”

  “Don’t know.” Norris’ biceps flexed with the motion to stay afloat.

  The sloop glided over the water, drawing closer. Jolene saw that Rose’s fists clutched the lifeline as she leaned over the bow, her expression taut with worry. The others remained at the stern, not taking their eyes off Jolene, Norris and the little girl.

  A flare shot upward and then burst into glimmering red shards against the blue sky.

  Less than a minute later, in the not-so-far distance they heard the blast of a ship’s horn.

  “The Coast Guard.” Jolene pointed over Norris’ shoulder. “Over there.”

  Within minutes they were flanked on one side by the boat and on the other by the Coast Guard vessel. A small life boat was lowered and two “guards” made their way to the trio. When one reached for the child, she screamed and threw herself backwards at Jolene, tipping over her raft.