“Why, Tessa, I’m hurt.” Gabe fluttered one hand over his heart. “You have such a low opinion of me.”
“If the ski mask fits…”
He grinned. “Hand me a couple sandwiches, would you? I’m starving.”
Tessa woke disoriented on a double bed in a paneled room. She remembered trees streaming past the car window and then fading to a blur. The pills must have knocked her out, a normal side effect. But everything was swaying, not a normal side effect. She blinked, but the room continued to roll. High-pitched squawking scraped across her eardrums. The rhythmic slap of water caught her attention, and terror clawed up her spine.
She tore open the door and raced upstairs, then skidded to a horrified stop. Endless blue-green waves crashed across the horizon of the Pacific Ocean. A scream ripped out of her and she collapsed, shaking. Her chest heaved in labored breaths.
Pounding footsteps vibrated the boards, and then Gabe’s strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Tessa, what’s the matter?”
She tried to speak, but couldn’t. Head spinning, her vision darkened. Her lungs convulsed and her heart galloped.
“Listen to me,” Gabe’s deep voice commanded. “You’re hyperventilating. Take slow breaths, in through your nose and out your mouth.” He pulled her into his embrace and his warm hand rubbed her back. “Easy does it. Slow your breaths down, honey.”
She obeyed, and as her breathing slowed, her vision cleared.
“That’s it.” His arms tightened. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Trembling violently, she clung to him. “Off the ocean,” she gasped. “Get me away from the ocean—off this boat.”
“What the—? This is my yacht, Serendipity, and she’s entirely seaworthy. Nothing’s going to happen to you here.”
Tessa burst into tears, involuntarily digging her nails through the nubby white cotton of his sweater, into his arms. “I want off,” she begged. “Now!”
“All right.” He stroked her hair. “Let go of me so I can get the launch.”
She managed to unclamp her fingers, and he rose. Arms wrapped around herself, she huddled on the deck, trapped in the nightmare that had haunted her since age six. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to breathe.
“Hang tight, sweetheart.” His footsteps faded. Thumps, a metallic clang and a dull bang sounded. Minutes later, he returned. “I take it you don’t swim.”
She shuddered.
“Yeah, big surprise. Put this on.” He helped her into a neon orange lifejacket. “All set, let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to wear one?” she gasped.
“I’m more at home in the water than in my own bedroom.” He chuckled. “And I’ve got the big ol’ frog’s feet to prove it.”
With his hands supporting her, she pushed upright on wobbly legs. He urged her toward the rail. She caught sight of the dark, churning water and jerked to a stop, digging in her heels.
“Tessa,” Gabe spoke with quiet patience. “The only way to get to dry land is to climb into the launch.”
“I can’t.” Caught between two agonizing, impossible choices and crazed with terror, she whimpered. “Hit me.”
“What?”
“Hit me; knock me out. I’ll never make it to shore.”
He sighed. “Close your eyes.”
Desperate, she obeyed. But instead of the blow she expected, he swept her up into his arms.
“I’ve never hit a woman in my life, and I’m not about to start with you,” his satin voice murmured into her ear. “Even we bank robbers have our principles. Hang on.”
Eyelids squeezed tight, she clung to him. His rock-hard biceps bunched, a door creaked, and then holding her with one arm, he stepped downward. The splashing grew louder. He lowered her to a cold metal bench that rocked wildly. She gripped the edge so hard her fingers ached.
“Keep those eyes shut,” he commanded before moving away.
Ragged breaths raced in and out of her dry throat, but she obeyed, even as a new round of sobs shook her.
The motor chugged on. Gabe’s warm, solid body pressed against her side. She eased her eyes open and he slid one arm around her. As the boat leapt forward, the sharp sea breeze slapped her face. Shaking, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to him.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. He stroked her back in a soothing caress. “When I was a little boy and I would wake up scared in the night, you know what my foster mom did?”
She gulped down her sobs and pulled away to gaze up at him.
“She used to give me kisses to hold in my hand. That way, I always had her love with me.” He touched his soft lips to her forehead in a sweet, comforting kiss.
Her fear receded, replaced by a shocking awareness of the man holding her so protectively.
The boat leapt upward, then plunged sickeningly down. The bow crashed through a huge swell and icy spray stung her skin. She lurched sideways, an involuntary scream bursting out.
Gabe’s arm tightened around her. “Whoa, it’s okay.”
She huddled in his encircling arms as he whispered words of comfort, until the boat finally slowed and he moored alongside a weathered wooden dock. He jumped to the pier and lifted her out beside him, but her trembling legs collapsed. Holding her, he sank to the dock and pulled her into his lap. “You’re safe, sweetheart,” he murmured, tugging the lifejacket off.
She let him hold her until the tight bands around her chest eased and the sick, shaky feeling faded. “Now, what was that all about?”
“I’m afraid of the water.”
“No kidding.” He brushed her damp hair away from her face, the clasp that had held her curls in order long gone. “Why?”
“Wh-when I was six, my brother pulled me into the ocean and I went under. I almost drowned. The lifeguard rescued me. Sh-she had to perform AR and I spent the night in the hospital.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Your fear is a normal response to trauma. But,” he hesitated, “I’m trying to help, not put you down, okay? You shouldn’t have to feel that the fear overpowers and controls you. Being terrified is no way to live.”
“I’ve tried to conquer it. Intellectually, I understand. But forcing my emotions to obey is another story.”
“This sounds simplistic, but concentrate on something else. Stay focused, so you don’t have time to panic.”
Maybe he was onto something. For a few minutes in the launch, she had forgotten her terror. That had never happened before. But she’d been focused on him. Bewildered, she shook her head. “Is that what you do?”
He was silent for almost a full minute. “Yeah.”
“You don’t seem like you’re afraid of anything. What scares you, Gabe?”
A dark shadow clouded his eyes for a second. Then the mischievous sparkle returned and he gave her a dazzling smile, deepening the cleft in his chin. “Martha Stewart’s ‘to do’ list—now that’s scary.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “Nightfall will hit soon. C’mon.”
She recognized a distraction when she saw one. “Where?”
“I always have a Plan B.”
He supported her while they navigated the dock and toiled up a