Read Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound for Free Online Page A

certain she was exactly what she looked like—a diver, one who had risked her life to save his. He was exactly what she’d said she was—
    everyone’s worst nightmare, the real deal.
    She stiffened, hearing the sound that had escaped his throat—
    something between a groan and laughter. His amusement only dumped more fuel onto her rage.
    “You’ll pay for that,” she hissed.
    “I’m sorry.” It was just that she was . . . extraordinary. And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t certain what to do with someone.
    “While you’re laughing, you’d better not put one cut in my wet suit.
    You already broke my radio. Get. Off. Me.” She enunciated each word.
    “You weigh a ton.”
    He’d been careful with the knife. His body was shaking from cold, but he’d kept his hands steady. It was an insult for her to think that he might accidently nick her wet suit. And she should have been worried about him cutting her throat. He let his breath out and knew his strength was waning.
    He had to make a decision. Life or death. He had no doubt he could manipulate a woman—he had more weapons in his arsenal than guns—but he was weak and that made him vulnerable.
    A little reluctantly, he removed the knife from her throat and eased his weight from her. The moment she was free, the woman flung herself onto her back and sat, pushing backward with her heels to put distance between them. Overheated, she tore off her wet suit top, uncaring that she was exposing soft skin to his startled gaze. She dragged a sweatshirt from behind her and yanked it over her head.
    They stared at one another across the deck. The moment their eyes met again, his heart contracted. She had the blackest eyes he’d ever seen, turbulent—stormy—a dark, fierce velvet that appeared almost as liquid as the sea itself. She looked like a wild thing, moody and beautiful and out of reach.
    “Who are you?” she demanded.
    That was a good question. Who exactly was he? He had many names.
    Many faces. People who saw him rarely survived. Damn, he was tired. He brushed at his face and his hand came away smeared with blood. What should he tell her? He needed her now. Needed an ally, a place to hide, to 37

    recuperate. What would appeal most to a woman like her? And that was the problem: it was difficult to get a handle on her.
    He read people easily. It was a gift of birth, of training, of years of experience. But she was difficult. She fought with the fury of the devil, was obviously a free soul out here on the sea and had the most direct stare he’d ever seen on anyone. He hunched his shoulders to make himself look smaller and less intimidating and wiped at his face again, deliberately smearing more blood.
    “You look like hell,” she observed. “I can’t call the coast guard because you ripped out my VHF. I’m going to have to get you to shore as fast as possible.”
    He held up his hand. “No. I can’t be seen.” He forced a trembling note into his voice. “I think someone’s trying to kill me.”
    “That’s a shocker,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
    It wasn’t exactly the reaction he was going for. And people thought he was a social nightmare. Where was all the womanly concern and sympathy? She was looking at him with dark, stormy eyes that still said she wanted to kick the crap out of him. She wasn’t the most forgiving woman he’d ever run across. He tried a tentative smile.
    “I can’t blame you for being upset. I was disoriented. I think I was just in survival mode.” That much was the truth. “I didn’t really understand what was going on. I thought you had attacked me.”
    She took a breath and nodded, accepting his explanation. He had the feeling he would have to stick close to the truth with her. And what the hell was the truth? He didn’t know anymore. He found himself rubbing his temple and wincing when he touched the raw, jagged edges of a wound.
    “I can’t remember what happened. Do you know?” That