In Too Deep Read Online Free PDF Page A

stop.
    Shafts of amber sunlight filtered between the thinning clouds. He drew his first easy breath in what felt like a year.
    "Is it over?" she asked, voice thick and husky.
    Michael peeled his numb fingers off the wheel. "Looks like." He set the boat on automatic pilot and turned, taking in her appearance. Soaking wet, shivering to beat the band, her face dead white, lips tinged blue. "Go below and find something dry to put on. We'll be out here until she blows through, might as well get comfortable."
    She didn't move. Her white-knuckled grip appeared permanently attached to the back of his chair. She licked the teeth marks on her lower lip. "What about you?"
    "I'll do the same. Hey, Luck? Here, boy." The cat crawled from beneath the wheel and limped over on three legs to be picked up. Both man and beast headed toward the door. Michael pulled it open. "After you."
    Tally passed by him, careful not to make bodily contact. She was acutely aware of him, all her senses ultrasensitive and almost vibratingly alert. Darn it. It was pitch black down there. "Is there a li—" He reached over her head and hit the switch. "Oh. Thanks."
    The salon was small. Too small for the two of them. The storm had tossed everything he owned all over the place. Clothes, shoes, papers, and open books littered every flat surface. A sock hung over a wall light. A pair of sunglasses lay in a corner as if crushed underfoot and kicked aside.
    He caught her perusal out of his good eye. "Maid's year off. Here." He bent to gather a scatter of papers off the floor, then opened a locker, shoved them inside, then locked it. Why he bothered with those when the place was a shambles Tally had no idea.
    He opened another locker and handed her a rumpled, hopefully clean, pair of Hawaiian shorts, and a creased white T-shirt. "Head's that way." He turned her toward the back of the boat by her shoulders. "I'll take a look at that arm when you're done."
    A buzzy electrical current passed from his hand through her body and sizzled tantalizingly just under her skin. Tally refrained from flinging herself into the pirate's arms and holding on to his hard body. Tightly. It wasn't lust, she told herself firmly. She would've flung herself on any man who'd managed to keep her alive through that storm.
    He was big. Solid. Unafraid.
    Strung as tight as a rubber band, heart still in her throat, Tally craved a little of that confidence rubbed off onto her. Instead, she drew a deep shuddering breath and stepped away.
    "Make it snappy," he told her as she opened the narrow door to the head. "And don't take all the hot water."
    Door closed, Tally sank down onto the closed toilet seat and buried her face in her hands. Emotions on overload, she sat for several minutes. Now that she could breathe again, she had trouble drawing air into her lungs. She couldn't move. Couldn't assimilate all that had happened in the last few hours.
    Arnaud had been a louse, but he didn't deserve to die alone, and in the dark, like that. God, he must've been terrified…
    He pounded on the door. Tally jumped to her feet fighting a fresh surge of adrenaline. "Up and at 'em, honey. If you're not going to shower, let me in. I'm freezing my ass off out here."
    Tally turned on the faucet and took the fastest shower on record. She emerged five minutes later, slightly warmer, and extremely self-conscious in his baggy orange shorts and T-shirt. Her Wonderbra had been far too wet to put on again, and she held the bundle of wet clothes against her chest as a shield. "That did the trick. Thanks for letting me go first. I was as quick as I could."
    "No problem." He gave her an ironic look. "If you hang on to those wet things like that, the shower will prove useless. Toss everything in the dryer. Sandwiches and hot coffee in the galley. Help yourself."
    The door to the minuscule bathroom closed with a click.
    Lord, how was she going to handle her father when he got back? As slimy as Arnaud might've been, he'd played the