Beyond Fearless (14 page)

ZACH WHIRLED AROUND
in the water, then pointed ahead of him toward the gray, circling shapes.
They won't hurt you.

Oh, sure. She'd heard the stories of swimmers getting attacked by sharks. People losing limbs or even their lives.

She was sure he had gone crazy. Or maybe he was sending out vibes, warning the animals to stay away from them. Maybe that was one of his special powers.

He kept going, swimming into the midst of the predators before kicking toward the surface.

She supposed she was dead either way. Either the bad guys shot her, or the sharks ate her.

Wrong.
Zach's voice rang in her head.
We'll be okay.

He surfaced, grabbing a breath of air. She came up beside him, cringing as one of the sharks swam past so close that she could have reached out and slid her hand against the gray skin. But she kept her hand close to her body, just in case the monster was hungry.

She had to admit that Zach appeared to be right. Six or seven tiger-size sharks were swimming lazily around them, their beady eyes aware. But their tooth-filled mouths were closed. They seemed to propel themselves with their tails, swaying them indolently in the water.

Could the damn things smell her fear?

You're fine,
Zach answered.

Looking to her right, she knew that several gray bodies partially hid her from the men in the raft as she took a quick gulp of air, then another.

Zach came up beside her. “The sharks were a lucky break for us.”

She huffed out a breath. “I'll concede the point.”

“Keep going,” he whispered. “I'm betting those guys won't come near here.”

Betting your life
.

If you want to put it that way.

They dove again, this time not so deeply, and they kept swimming.

When Zach tugged on her arm and pointed upward, she surfaced again.

He looked back toward the raft. It was fifty yards away.

He raised his head, scanning the watery scene, then pointed toward his right. “I see the land we spotted from the plane.”

“Can we swim there?”

“We have to. Unless somebody comes along and picks us up.”

Not likely,
she thought.

“Is it Grand Fernandino?”

“I don't know.”

He stopped swimming and treaded water. She did the same.

“Will you be all right if I leave you?” he asked.

“What?” She hoped she hadn't shouted so loudly that she'd told the thugs where they were.

“I want to cut a hole in their raft.”

Fear tightened her throat and she closed her fingers around Zach's arm. “You can't.”

“Unless I do, they can follow us when the sharks swim away.”

She wanted to protest. But she knew he was right. When the sharks left, the men in the raft might start paddling toward them.

“I'm going to circle around the back of the raft. You keep the thugs focused on the sharks. Try to make them keep scanning in this direction.”

“What if they don't get the message?”

“Do your best.”

Before she could protest, he dove, and she saw him stroking back in the direction from which they'd come. She wanted to scream at him to stop, but she kept her lips pressed together and floated near the surface, holding her head down and only coming up for breaths of air.

Keep looking for sharks. You're in danger from sharks,
she broadcast.
Probably the man and the woman drowned. Probably the man and the woman drowned.

It didn't help her to say that part. It only increased her worries about Zach. And another fear gripped her. How was he going to find her again?

She waited there for centuries, scanning the water for blood, for signs of him or for anything she hadn't seen before. But she could see only the endless turquoise water, the sharks, and the raft.

Zach. Zach. I'm over here. Zach.

Was she getting through? She had no way of knowing.

Time dragged by, and when he finally surfaced beside her, she clasped him to her.

“Did you hear me?” she gasped.

“Faintly. And I knew you were between me and that land mass we spotted.”

Looking back the way he'd come, she could see the raft still bobbing in the water. “What did you do?”

“I came up under them and cut a couple of slits in the bottom. If they don't sink, bailing out will keep them busy.”

“Yes.”

They started off again, stroking toward land. Behind them, she heard a loud curse ring out across the open water.

“I guess they found out they're going down,” Zach muttered.

“Will they drown?”

“Do you care?” he asked.

She was horrified to think that she really didn't. Those men had tried to kill her and Zach. And they deserved whatever happened to them.

“They're afraid of the sharks,” Zach said, a sneer in his voice. “A lucky break for us. Sharks don't go after swimmers.”

She huffed out a breath. “What about all those people who lose an arm or a leg?”

“The shark made a mistake.”

She sputtered a reply. “Oh, sure.”

“I mean, sharks don't intend to attack people. But if they mistake an arm or a leg for something else, they might bite.”

She shook her hair back. “That's kind of inconvenient.”

“Yeah. But you're more likely to get killed by lightning than to get attacked by a shark. In California, there were twenty-eight fatal lightning strikes between 1959 and 2005. And during the same period, there were five fatal shark attacks.”

She tipped her head to the side. “You've got those statistics at your fingertips?”

“Yeah. Because I take people out diving all the time. People who are worried about sharks. So I know about them. And I know how to avoid getting attacked. Swimming at twilight when the creatures can't see well is one of the most dangerous times for attacks.”

He lifted his head and looked toward the receding raft. “We can't stay here having a shark safety lecture.”

“Right.”

“Where are we?”

“Closer to land.”

She stared toward the dark bulk in the distance. It was still awfully far away. “I don't know if I can make it.”

“I thought you were a swimming champion.”

“It's been a long time.”

“It's like riding a bike.”

“You can't drown on a bike.”

“You're not going to drown. Come on.” He struck off toward the land. Grand Fernandino, she hoped.

She tried to keep pace with him, but he was a strong swimmer, and she felt herself falling behind.

He turned around and came back to her, watching her breathe hard. “Relax.”

She rested in the water, and he gathered her in his arms. She let her head drop to his shoulder, feeling peaceful—and so close to him that it made her heart squeeze.

Like two halves of one whole,
he whispered in her mind.

Yes.

How did I survive during the years without you?
he asked, his inner voice soft.

With difficulty,
she answered, because she knew it was the truth. For both of them.

Lie on your back and rest.

Okay.

She turned over and lay staring up at the tropical blue sky, watching small clouds drift by. They were moving fast—faster than she could swim.

“I was thinking…about how we met. I mean before.”

“And?”

“I was in Montana once…”

“Oh yeah?”

“A long time ago. When I was five, I think. Dad was going to see a copper mine he wanted to invest in, and he took me and Mom along…”

Zach moved to touch her shoulder, and she continued without speaking.

I was really bored. And then I started talking to…a boy. I asked him if he wanted to play Sesame Street, and he said yes.

She felt him drag in a quick breath.

Sesame Street. I remember! I was being punished for leaving my bike in the driveway…only Craig had done it! I was in my room…and a girl asked me if I wanted to play. I thought I made her up. But it was you!

Yes! I think that's right.

And we didn't lose the connection until I got sick.

They marveled at the shared memory.

We played Batman and Catwoman.

And…Bonanza.

She wanted to drift there, remembering, but Zach broke the spell.

“We have to get to land—before twilight.”

She felt a shiver go through her, remembering the information about sharks that he'd told her a little while ago. So she flipped over and started moving through the water again. But she soon became winded.

Zach treaded water beside her. “You're worn out.” His voice was tender as he reached for her.

For a moment, he simply held on to her, and she clung to him. She could feel the bond between them like a warm background buzz.

I'll take care of you.

I'm used to being independent
.

We both are.

Alone for a long time
—
until we found each other again.

Her heart squeezed.
Too bad we didn't both end up on Grand Fernandino before this.

He hooked his arm over her chest in a hold that she recognized from long-ago lifesaving training. With her firmly in tow, he started swimming again.

“This is too hard for you. You can't get yourself to land and tow me, too.”

His voice turned gritty. “What do you think I'm going to do? Leave you here?”

“No,” she whispered, looking toward the bag he'd tied around his waist. “But maybe you should get rid of the other stuff you're dragging.”

“No. We may need it.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and let him pull her through the water, wondering how much longer he could keep it up.

Who's Sanford?
she asked him.

The guy who hired me to find his brother's boat, the
Blue Heron.
From the way Bill answered, I'm sure they're not connected.

Wild Bill, that's what he calls himself. I picked that up from him. He was the man following me in Denver, but I sensed it's nothing personal with him.

Then what?

Somebody hired him to…follow me. Then close in…for the kill.
She heard his mental curse.
And you got dragged into it.

No! We're in this together. Whatever it is.

 

IT
was like drifting on the water with Anna and Zach. On a wide blue ocean. Jordan moved his hips, maintaining his erection and the arousal simmering between himself and Lindsay.

Not the ocean, I think. What I said before
—
the Caribbean.

He's a good swimmer,
Lindsay replied.
Wait. Something's changed. They've made it to land.

Where?

He felt Lindsay mentally shake her head.

I don't know.

At least they're safe.

I wish we knew for sure.

We should stay with them.

But Jordan knew that he had reached the end of his ability to drift on the currents of arousal. They were new at this type of sexual encounter, and the pressure for release had finally built to a level he could no longer ignore.

Don't,
Lindsay warned, then gave up the protest as his hips began to move more urgently.

Soon they were focused only on one another, the need for climax so intense that they gave themselves up to the pleasure of each other—body, mind, and soul.