His Stolen Bride (Chicago Sons) Read Online Free PDF Page B

grasp on to something solid. His muscles throbbed from the effects of the cold water, and his limbs were starting to shake.
    He unceremoniously cupped her rear end and shoved her onto the platform. She scrambled up, her dress catching and tearing. He kept her braced until she was stable. Then he looped both forearms over the platform and hoisted himself up, sitting on the edge, dragging in deep breaths.
    “What the heck?” he demanded.
    She was breathing hard. “I thought I could make it.”
    “To the beach?”
    “It’s not that far.”
    “It’s a quarter mile. And you’re dressed in an anchor.”
    “The fabric is light.”
    “Maybe when it’s bone-dry.” He reached up and pulled himself to his feet. His legs trembled, and his knees felt weak, but he put an arm around her waist and lifted her up beside him.
    With near-numb fingers, he released the catch on the deck gate and swung it open.
    “Careful,” he cautioned as he propelled her back onto the deck.
    She held on and stepped shakily forward. “It tangled around my legs.”
    “You could have killed us both.” He followed her.
    “It’d serve you right.”
    “To be dead ? You’d be dead, too.”
    “I’m going to be dead anyway.”
    “What?” He was baffled now.
    She was shivering. “I heard you on the phone. You said tomorrow morning I’d be a liability. We both know what that means.”
    “One of us obviously doesn’t.”
    “Don’t bother to deny it.”
    “Nobody’s killing anyone.” He gazed out at the dark water. “Despite your best attempt.”
    “You can’t let me live. I’ll turn you in. You’ll go to jail.”
    “You might not turn me in.”
    “Would you actually believe me if I said I wouldn’t?”
    “At the moment, no.”
    Right now, she was having a perfectly normal reaction to the circumstances. Proof of the truth might mitigate her anger eventually, but they didn’t have that yet.
    “Then that was a really stupid statement,” she said.
    “What I am going to prove is that I mean you no harm.”
    It was the best he could come up with for the moment. The breeze was chilling, and he ushered her past the bridge, opening the door to the cabin.
    “How are you going to do that?”
    “For starters by not harming you. Let’s find you something dry.”
    She glared at him. “I’m not taking off my dress.”
    He pointed inside. “You can change in the head—the bathroom. I’ve got some T-shirts on board and maybe some sweatpants, though they’d probably drop right off you.”
    “This is your boat?”
    “Of course it’s my boat. Whose boat did you think it was?”
    She passed through the door and stopped between the sofa and the kitchenette. “I thought maybe you stole it.”
    “I’m not a thief.”
    “You’re a kidnapper.”
    He realized she’d made a fair point. “Yeah, well, that’s the sum total of my criminal activity to date.” He started working on his soggy tie. “If you let me get past you, I’ll see what I can find.”
    She shrank out of his way against the counter.
    He turned sideways to pass her, and their thighs brushed together. She arched her back to keep her breasts from touching his chest. It made things worse, because her wet cleavage swelled above the snug, stiff fabric.
    Reaction slammed through his body, and he faltered, unable to stop himself from staring. She was soaked to the skin, her auburn hair plastered to her head, her makeup smeared. And yet she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
    “Jackson,” she said, her voice coming out a whisper.
    He lifted his gaze to meet hers. It was all he could do to keep his hands by his sides. He wanted to smooth her hair, brush the droplets from her cheeks and run his thumb across her lips.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    The words took him by surprise. “You’re welcome,” he automatically answered.
    For a minute, it seemed that neither of them could break eye contact. Longing roiled inside him. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to