Her gaze flew to his face. "What?"

"Go below," he said harshly, his eyes fixed on the ominously quiet launch. "And just this once, don't argue with me!"

"But I don't under-"

The silence ended as the launch's engines suddenly roared, propelling the boat toward them with a leap of speed!

"Hell!" Beau was falling to the deck, his arm carrying her with him. She had a glimpse of the launch almost upon them now, but veering to the left.

"Hit the deck!" Daniel's corresponding action followed his command and the members of the crew who hadn't already anticipated the order scrambled to obey.

They were only just in time. A lethal rat-a-tat-tat of bullets peppered the air above them. Dark gaping holes appeared in the white sails and the dark wood of the masts was ruthlessly peeled and splintered. It lasted only a moment and then the launch was veering away and speeding off in the direction of Mariba.

"Is anyone hurt?" Daniel's yell was met with various denials from the men. "The bastards couldn't resist getting in a little farewell salute," he said as he got to his knees. "I have an irresistible urge to go after them and teach them a few manners. How about it, Beau?" There was no answer and Daniel turned. "I said how about-" He broke off as he saw Beau's face, white as marble in the moonlight. "Beau?"

His gaze flew to Kate's limp figure cradled in Beau's arms. Her lashes were dusky shadows on her cheeks, and a thin dark line of blood trickled from the wound at her temple.

Nine

"She's been hit." Beau's expression was dazed and incredulous. "They've shot Kate!"

Daniel was kneeling beside them in seconds. "She couldn't be hit. They were aiming deliberately high. Even if we'd been standing the bullets would have been over our heads. The sons of bitches just wanted to scare us." He tensed. "Unless one of the bullets ricocheted."

"What the hell difference does it make how it happened?" Beau asked fiercely, his golden eyes wild in his pale face. "Look at her. They've shot her, dammit!" Oh, dear God, a wound in the temple. It must be serious. What if she died? What if he'd lost her even before they'd really belonged to each other? The thought filled him with such panic and fury he found himself trembling like a child lost in the dark. It was dark. The entire world would be dark now without Kate. "She can't die, Daniel. I won't let her die."

Daniel was bending closer, his keen gaze raking the area of the wound. "Don't lose your cool. She doesn't appear to be having any trouble breathing. It's difficult to tell with all that blood but the wound doesn't look like a puncture. She may have been cut by a flying splinter." He frowned. "We need more light. I don't want to move her until we're sure." He called over his shoulder to one of the crewmen hovering close by. "Get me a lantern and a first-aid kit, Jim."

"She's not going to die," Beau repeated, his voice harsh with desperation. "There are too many things I have to give her. She's never had anything. I've got to show her how much she means to me."

Daniel's dark eyes were gentle. "You can't buy everything, Beau. Kate's not going to let you subsidize her. She's too independent."

"She's going to have to let me." He gently tucked a lock of hair behind Kate's ear. "What's the use of having anything if I can't give to Kate? All my life I've had my dear loving relatives and so-called friends clawing and fighting to get their hands on a few shekels of the Lantry Trust. Money's never given me anything I really wanted, but it will now. Because it means I can keep Kate safe and comfortable." He tried to clear the thickness from his throat. "And happy. God, I want Kate to be happy."

"How do you know that money will bring her any more happiness than it has you?" Daniel asked quietly. "I wouldn't say Kate has any materialistic tendencies. On the contrary." The seaman was at his elbow now handing him the dark blue metal box with the red cross on it. "Now we'll see how serious the wound really is. Hold that lantern closer, Jim." He opened the first-aid kit and took out a gauze pad. With infinite care he brushed the blood away from Kate's temple. He didn't look up as he gave a slight sigh of relief. "It's okay. It's just a cut, not even a very deep one. She probably wouldn't even be unconscious if the splinter hadn't struck such a sensitive area as the temple. She should be coming to any time now."

"Are you sure?" Beau looked up, his expression strained and haunted. "She's so damn still."

"I'm as sure as I can be. I'm not a doctor, but I've had quite a bit of experience with wounds."

Yes, Daniel would know, Beau realized, almost dizzy with relief. She was going to be all right. "Thank God!"

Beau was angry with her again, Kate thought uneasily, his voice was harsher than she'd ever heard it. Even through this hazy half-waking mist she was aware of the tension that was vibrating through him like a violin string strung too taut. Her head was throbbing with a dull aching pain. Why was that? She tried to think but everything was a muzzy blur. Oh yes, she'd been struck on the head in the warehouse when they'd burned the cocaine. But that seemed such a long time ago. Why did it still hurt? No, it couldn't be that. The machine gun. She stiffened as memory swept back to her. The ship, the chase, Beau's voice telling her not to argue and go below, the explosive strafe of bullets.

Her eyes flew open. "It wasn't my fault."

"Kate!"

She was too intent to notice the hoarseness of his voice. "It wasn't my fault," she insisted. "I didn't have time to go below." Her brow creased in a cross frown. "Not that I probably would have done it anyway. You have no right to give me orders."

Daniel chuckled. "What did I tell you? Independent as hell."

"She can be as independent as she likes as long as she's all right." Beau's gaze was devouring her in the lantern light and there was such an expression of tenderness and thanksgiving on his face that she caught her breath in wonder. Beau couldn't be angry with her and still look at her like that. "Are you in any pain?"

She shook her head, her eyes still held by that beautifully glowing tenderness. "No, I'm fine. Is everyone else unhurt?"

Daniel nodded. "You were the only casualty. Can you get up?"

"Yes, of course." She made a motion to lever herself upright, which was immediately quelled by Beau's arms tightening about her.

"Lie still," he ordered tersely. "You're sure it's safe for her to move, Daniel?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don't see why not. I told you it's not much more than a scratch."

"Then I'm taking her down to the cabin. Send Jim down with that first-aid kit, will you?" He was standing up with her still cradled in his arms. He drew her protectively close. "I'll take care of her from now on."

Daniel got to his feet and stood facing him. "Any idea where we go from here? Santa Isabella?"

"I haven't decided," Beau said, turning away. "I'll get back to you later. Just get us as far away from Castellano as you can before I get over being thankful she's alive and start wanting to collect a few scalps. I never want her to set eyes on that blasted island again as long as she lives."

He was moving swiftly, carrying her. Her ear was pressed to the silky shirt covering his chest and she could hear the beating of his heart. She felt deliciously fragile in that possessive embrace. Too fragile. It was much too easy to relax and let Beau take charge and she mustn't give in to that momentary weakness. "I can walk. Just let me down and I'll be fine. I wasn't really hurt."

He glanced down at her and his face lit up with a smile so beautiful it warmed her heart. "I know you can, but I don't want to let you go yet. Indulge me a little, sugar."

What was a little independence when he was smiling at her like that? "Okay," she said, nestling her cheek closer to the vital cadence of his heartbeat. She closed her eyes and the steady metronome soothed her into a dreamy lassitude as he carried her down the stairs and laid her carefully on the yielding softness of the bunk. His hands were deft and swift as he undressed her and slipped her beneath the covers. She was so lost in that deliciously languid haze that she scarcely heard the soft knock on the door or Beau's invitation to enter.

She felt Beau's hand brush the curls back from her forehead. "Hey, wake up. You can't go to sleep until I've bandaged that cut." The mattress sank beneath his weight as he sat down and she opened her eyes to see him taking the first-aid kit from the slight, wiry crewman. What was his name? Jim, that was it. Then the crewman wasn't there anymore and Beau was bending over her with that same wonderful smile curving his lips.

"This may sting a little," he said as the gauze touched her temple. She inhaled sharply. The antiseptic did sting and it was more than a little. "Damn." His growl was rough with concern. "I'll be through here in just a minute. Hold on, sugar." He was as good as his word and soon the cut was clean and neatly covered with a small square bandage. "That should do it." He closed the first-aid box and fastened the snap lock. "Now you can go to sleep." "I can?" She was gazing up at him uncertainly. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

He shook his head. "Later maybe. I want to stay awake awhile and make sure you didn't get a concussion when that splinter hit you." His hand ruffled affectionately through her curls again. "I don't know why I'm so worried. You've obviously got a cast-iron skull. It would have to be considering the punishment it's taken lately."