I'Ve Got You (2 page)

‘Come on, sailor!' he bellowed, ‘Abandon ship—now!' His fingers dug harder into her flesh and pulled.

Her red-lacquered toes scrambled for the ladder and slid, squeaking against the gleaming hull of his yacht. With a mighty heave, he hoisted her up. She clambered over the safety rail, landing with a thud on deck, her long ebony hair plastered to her face. For a moment all she could see were his large bare feet hurrying away to untie the line that held her sloop to his yacht.

She barely had a moment to consider her fate, when her rescuer shouted from the cockpit.

‘Hang on!'

The yacht dropped into a gully, and she lunged for a grip rail attached to the cabin's roof, straining her arms and punishing her shoulders.

She turned to watch her father's sloop slip away—fast. Disappearing as it dipped into a gully while the waves churned around it. Belle's throat ached and her eyes stung as she fought back tears. To leave her father's boat floundering alone in this storm was almost too much to bear.

Belle found her footing and looked up to see her rescuer, powerful and steady as a rock behind the helm. He made her feel safe—at least from drowning.

The sailor glanced her way, and she watched the expression on his face soften. That look could only ever come from one man.

Her belly dipped.
Oh, God, it is him. Kabe Hunter
.

‘Get below. Take the forward cabin—towels on the bunk. Dry clothes, my cabin. Stay down there!' he shouted over the howling wind. With a flick of his head, he whipped dripping wet curls from his face and turned his keen, dark-blue eyes back to the rigging, the compass and the sea.

Stilled shocked, she managed to give him a nod. Just as she steadied herself to stand, the boat heaved in a swell and heeled sideways.

Belle stumbled.

Her toes curled in a desperate bid to grip the wet slippery deck. Her arms flailed like a crazy windmill. She hurtled across the deck, fingers splayed ready to grab hold of anything to stop herself from cracking her head on the deck.

He reached out, grabbed hold of her arm and yanked her into the cockpit. Her chest slammed into his, the air whooshed out of her lungs and pain shot through her ribs. He let go and swiftly wrapped his arm around her. His hand slipped under her life jacket as he braced his body and managed to stop them both crashing down in a tangle of limbs.

A fraction later, Belle realised her free hand
had
successfully found something to hold onto … the sailor's firm bum.

She let out a strangled cry and met his steady but amused gaze, his face barely centimetres from hers.

‘You right now?' he asked, smiling wickedly down at her.

Belle nodded and noticed, with some apprehension, that his solid forearm muscles flexed across the small of her back and his fingers curled gently into her waist. To her utter relief, he withdrew his arm.

‘Good—after the trouble of getting you on board, wouldn't want to have to fish you out of the drink.'

Belle straightened and finally let go of his shorts. She tried to smile back while muttering, ‘Sorry about that.' But couldn't stop herself from glancing down at his tight arse. ‘I … um, needed to grab something … and, um, sorry it was a reflex action.'

He shrugged. ‘No harm done.' His smile grew; so did the dimple in his cheek. ‘Grab it anytime you like.' He gave her a smouldering look that sent a shiver through her.

Embarrassed, Belle was glad of the semi darkness that hid the flush in her cheeks. She was about to dash below when she remembered her manners.

‘Thanks for searching for me and saving me back there,' Belle said, meaning every word. He gave her a long hard look that said,
are you nuts? Of course I'd search
. She quickly turned away but it was too late, memories came tumbling back of all the nights she'd dreamt about Kabe Hunter and what they would do together. What he would do to her and how that would make her feel. A free-fall sensation fluttered in her stomach, and she gasped.

Kabe nudged her with his shoulder. She looked up and caught his eyes. He flashed her a grin, and said. ‘I was on my way to Luna Bay and I happened to be the closest one to search—lucky you. You did well though. Hell—we both did well.' His eyes warmed and became intense, as if he could read her thoughts.

Belle clung to the safety line, composed herself, gave him a weak smile and headed for the hatch leading below deck … where she'd be alone and … safe?

Fingers gripping the companionway railing, she hurried down the steps to the saloon deck. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the soft light, and there before her was a jaw-droppingly luxurious cabin of gleaming woodwork, shiny brass fittings and leather upholstery. As her grandfather had told her, Kabe had done all right for himself.

She staggered to the forward cabin and, just as he said, there were fresh towels neatly folded on the bunk. Belle shrugged her backpack off, thankful her camera and general handbag stuff were dry, then dragged her sodden clothes off.

She wrapped herself in the towel sarong style and headed unsteadily for his cabin. ‘This doesn't feel right, poking around in someone else's space,' she mumbled and opened the door. The heady mix of manly scent and fresh salty air hit her as she entered. Breathing deeply, she took a moment to enjoy Kabe's lingering presence.

An unzipped overnight bag containing a few toiletries sat on the floor. She opened a bulkhead locker and pulled out a T-shirt and sweat pants. Back to her cabin, she quickly dressed, rolled up the pants, and adjusted the enormous T-shirt that hung loosely to mid-thigh but kept slipping off one shoulder. She shrugged and winced when a nasty twinge stabbed her in the ribs. She held her hand to her side, thinking,
this is all so bizarre
, just as a hysterical giggle escaped her throat. She swallowed down a sob that also threatened to escape, gathered her wet clothes, turned to leave and saw herself in the mirror attached to the cabin door.

‘Oh God.' She dabbed her tears and raked her fingers through her hair, then lifted the T-shirt to check out her ribs. Thankfully, no abrasions, just a red welt that would soon become a bruise. She let the T-shirt drop and turned to leave the cabin.

Belle dumped her wet shorts, T-shirt and underwear in a bucket and left it in the galley.

The rolling and pitching while below deck made her feel queasy. And she knew the longer she stayed the worse it would get. Her eyes felt like they were crossed, her head ached and her stomach churned. Ignoring Kabe's order to stay below, she quickly pulled on yellow wet-weather gear and life jacket, then took deep, slow breaths to stave off nausea, and waited. The yacht dipped into a gully between swells. Quickly, Belle hurried up the steps. She stumbled out onto the rolling deck and blustering wind and quickly gripped the safety line.

‘I told you to stay below,' Kabe yelled over the tempest.

Incapable of hiding her nausea, she held her stomach and gave him a suffering, sidelong glance. He held back on a smile, a waste of time since his eyes twinkled with amusement. Unable to see the funny side, she dismissed him with a grumble, and lifting her chin, she turned to concentrate on the horizon … if she could only find it.

She would do anything,
anything
, not to vomit over the side—in front of him.

He muttered something about sea legs, but thankfully said no more about her going below and busied himself with getting them to safety. ‘We'd better get to Butterfly Island.' He grinned. ‘Come here and make yourself useful,' Kabe said, pulling her towards him.

‘Hey—ouch!' Belle winced.

‘Sorry, it's the ribs, yeah?' he said, sounding concerned.

She nodded. ‘They're a bit tender, nothing to worry about.'

‘Can you hold the helm steady without it hurting you?'

‘Sure. I'll be fine,' she told him.

He showed her how, with strong hands that covered hers. ‘Don't let go!'

‘But what if I have to … !'

‘Throw up? Nah, you'll be too busy!' he called back over his shoulder as he moved forward.

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence!' Belle yelled, trying to make herself heard over the noisy rigging and the gale-force winds. To add to her anxiety, the yacht's bow dipped into a heavy swell, and seawater gushed over the deck. Up for the challenge, she gave herself a mental shake and gripped the wheel, determined to do it right.

He waved to get her attention. ‘I'm going to hoist the trysail, she may skip forward. Mind yourself.'

His sure and steady hands made fast work at undoing the ties. She couldn't take her eyes off his muscles flexing as he hauled the sail up with ease. Being anywhere near Kabe set all her senses on alert, taut like strings on an instrument wound way too tight and ready to pop with a resounding twang.

‘Shit,' Belle muttered. She wished she were somebody else, someone without a past, maybe a beautiful woman on a carefree holiday, ready for sex with a hot guy.

Kabe moved back into the cockpit, turned off the engine, then slid behind her. Belle tried to shift out of the way, but instead of taking possession of the wheel, he surprised her by placing his big hands over hers to adjust their bearings. A flutter erupted in her stomach. This contact was different to the grasp that had pulled her to safety. His touch was gentle yet firm, experienced and comforting.

The yacht tacked to starboard and for a moment lost the wind, making its white trysail flutter. As the sail caught the wind again, it ballooned out with a thwack. In a blink, one of Kabe's hands left hers and his arm went around her upper chest, his fingers gripping her shoulder as he held her to his front. Despite her life jacket, she felt his body heat, his strength holding her tightly to him. Just as he'd warned, the yacht leapt forward. Without Kabe restraining her, she would've been thrown backwards.

‘Holy cow!' Belle said, exhilarated.

His sleek yacht steadied and sliced through the water. Kabe's big hand on her shoulder moved up to the side of her neck; feeling his skin on hers sent a shiver through her.

‘Welcome to
The Ondine
,' he laughed and dipped his head to Belle's ear. ‘Stay, have fun. I'll be right behind you while I radio Marine Rescue, let them know we're okay.' His breath warm on her skin made her nipples harden and other parts come alive.

Oh my!
Belle thought and let the delicious sensation linger …
Nice
. She pulled herself back under control, swallowed and quickly focused on something else … like sailing through a storm. Yeah, that's right, sailing through a storm with
the
Kabe Hunter to a remote island. And they'd be there in record time in his beautiful sleek, yacht, its white hull slicing through the waves. And then what? Keep a tight lid on her attraction. She silently laughed at herself.

The yacht dipped into a trough, then up and over a swell, before the bow slammed down again. Belle's spirits soared and she grinned like a maniac. Nothing compared to this—well, almost nothing.

Belle flashed Kabe a silly grin. He winked. Her eye twitched with the urge to wink back.
Get a grip,
she told herself.

His chin brushed the top of her head as he scanned the rigging and the sea. His strong arms encircled her as he leant forward to grab the mike. She could feel the heat from his body, so close.

He leant over her shoulder and asked, ‘Who do you want told you're safe?' His lips brushed her ear sending a ripple of goose bumps down her neck.

He really should stop doing that
. Put off guard, again, she moved her head to distance herself from the nearness of his mouth. ‘Um … my grandfather, Mario …'

His face lit up and a low chuckle quickly turned into a belly laugh.

Damn it, he was bound to remember her silly teenage crush!

She opened her mouth to say,
I'm all grown up now
, but in a blink his index finger came up to rest on her mouth as scratchy noises came out of a speaker. ‘Talk soon!' Barely able to hide his humour, he held up the mike and said, ‘This is
The Ondine
. I have Belle Fabrini on board. Over.'

A voice came back asking, ‘Was she in her father's sloop,
The Pocket
? Over.'

Belle nodded.

‘Affirmative—hatch is tight, sea anchor out,' Kabe rattled off and gave them its last known position. ‘Contact Mario and he'll inform her sister Lexie and family. We're headed for Starfish Inlet on Butterfly Island. Over and out.'

‘Good one, mate,' the voice crackled through the speaker. ‘You'll be right at Butterfly. Over and out.'

Kabe changed the frequency on his radio and spoke to someone called Dan. He explained what was happening and told him of their destination.

‘Need to tack!' he yelled. Taking over, he swung the helm around; the yacht responded quickly. Smiling eyes squinting against the salt spray, he looked at her and said, ‘Belle Fabrini … Un-fucking-believable!'

Chapter 2

The fading light made sailing through the heads to Starfish Inlet difficult. Belle watched anxiously for signs of land as they inched forward in the heavy swell. The wind died down to swirl around them in a mad crazy dance, ruffling the sail. The sound of the storm eased to an ominous, eerie roar that came from somewhere above.

‘Take over while I reef in the sail,' Kabe said, stripping off his life jacket. ‘Keep her heading north-east.'

‘Yes, don't worry, I know what to do.'

With expert ease born of years on a yacht, Kabe was all business as he checked his yacht's position and the rigging, and had the sail down and tied in seconds. He came back, started the engine, and switched on navigation lights at the top of the mast, bow and stern. Chugging further into the inlet, it wasn't long before they entered calmer waters. Still he checked all around him. Belle cupped a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the increasing rain that made visibility more difficult. She knew from experience that this was just the beginning, that all too soon the gentle rain would become a tropical downpour.