Oh, to hell with my reputation. Kerry felt her swimsuit straps slide off her shoulders as she pulled Dar’s shirt up, feeling the heat as their skin met and her weight pressed down against Dar’s body.

“Hey!” A voice outside erupted suddenly. “Anyone home?”

Kerry found herself nose to nose with a lethally frustrated Dar, whose darkened blue eyes and definite snarl perfectly captured how Kerry herself was feeling. “Arggghh.” She released the groan softly as she let her head drop to rest against Dar’s collarbone.

“That about covers it,” Dar sighed. “Oh boy.” She cleared her throat and swallowed, attempting to collect her composure. She raised her voice. “Be right there.” Then she added in a quiet but heartfelt tone, “You godforsaken son of a bitch.”

Kerry started laughing. “Bookmark this,” she advised her partner. “For later.” With another groan, she reluctantly untangled herself from Dar’s body and stood up, eased her straps back into place, and rubbed her face to clear the flush she knew was coloring it. “Jesus.”

Dar stretched out on the couch and yawned, then curled up like a large, half- naked cat. She picked up her forgotten coffee cup and sipped at it, watching Kerry over the rim with a seductive look.

“You’re not helping.” Kerry ran her hands through her hair. “I take it you want me to go greet our guest.”

“You invited him,” Dar drawled.

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Kerry slapped herself on the side of the head, and continued to do so as she walked towards the cabin door. “Curse my parents for raising me with manners.”

With a chuckle, Dar leaned back against the pillow on the couch and enjoyed Kerry’s sexy little swagger as she ducked through the entrance and went out onto the stern deck. She heard Kerry greet their rescued mariner and she sighed as she rested her head on the soft fabric. “Curse you, Stuart.”

”MORNING.” KERRY LIFTED a hand to wave at the man standing on the dock. Bob was dressed in khaki shorts a little too big for him, and the polo shirt he’d been wearing the night before.

In the daylight, his slightly round, cheerful face and curly hair Terrors of the High Seas 85

presented a picture of a reasonably good-looking man about Kerry’s age. “C’mon aboard.”

Bob took her up on her invitation and crossed the gangplank.

“Thanks. Good morning to you,” he replied, as his eyes took in her swim-suited body. Politely, he glanced away. “Weather cleared up at least, huh?”

Kerry turned and surveyed the clear horizon. “Sure did.” She smiled. “We’re not really ready to get underway yet. Want to come in and grab some coffee?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” He returned her smile warmly.

“Listen…I…um…” He glanced around, then back at her. “I really want to thank you again, for what you did last night.”

Kerry felt a curious mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. “I was glad to help,” she said. “I’m really happy everything turned out all right.”

“Me, too,” Bob replied easily. “But it wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for you.” He courteously held the door for her. “I won’t forget that.”

“Well, you’re very welcome.” Kerry entered the cabin, her eyes automatically tracking until she found Dar’s tall figure behind the galley. “Got some extra coffee there, Dar?”

Dar’s eyes flicked past her and a wry grin appeared. “Sure.”

“Morning,” Bob greeted Dar.

“Hi,” Dar replied. “I’m going to get us ready to take off,” she told Kerry. “I want to run up and talk to Charlie for a minute before we go.”

“Okay.” Kerry traded places with her, reaching for the coffee.

“Tell them I said hi, okay?” She really didn’t have any desire to face the troublesome Bud.

“Uh huh.” Dar patted her back, then slipped past her and headed for the door.

Kerry smiled to herself and shook her head as she got down another cup from the cupboard. “How do you take it?” She looked up, a little surprised to find Bob leaning against the counter.

“Black,” he replied, accepting the cup she offered. “Thanks.”

He took a cautious sip. “So, Kerry, we didn’t get to talk much last night. Where are you from?”

Kerry poured herself a cup and added cream and sugar to it, then eased out of the galley and took a seat at the small table. Bob settled next to her, patiently waiting for her to answer.

“Michigan,” Kerry said. “What about you?”

“Thought I recognized the accent. I’m from Detroit,” he said with a grin. “My family owns some property just outside the city.”

He paused, sipping his coffee. “You go to Michigan University?”

Kerry nodded. “Matter of fact, I did.”

“I went out of state to college,” he related. “Boston.” A 86 Melissa Good thoughtful look crossed his face. “My father’s family is from there.

Old seafaring men, you know.”

“Mm.”

“That’s where I learned to sail,” he added. “When I was a kid, and then again when I got older. It sounded as if you’d sailed a lot.”

He neatly turned the subject back to her. “That one of your hobbies?”

Kerry looked up and found him watching her face with a faint, shy, half smile. “No, not now.” She propped her head on one hand.

“Underwater photography, and keeping up with work.” She came to the vague realization that Bob was showing some definite interest in her, and couldn’t decide if she was amused or embarrassed. “How about helping me get the boat ready? Dar should be back soon.”

“Sure,” he agreed amiably. “You name it, I’m yours.”

Yikes. Kerry slid out from behind the table. She hoped the trip to St. Johns was a short one.

“You know, I think we’ve really got a lot in common,” Bob added.

Not nearly as much as you think. Kerry gave him a brief smile and held the door open. ‘Well, we’ve got some of the same interests,”

she allowed. “But I like brunettes.”

“Huh?”

DAR STUCK HER hands in her pockets as she walked up the sandy path. Bob’s arrival had definitely put a knot in her shorts, and she’d considered violating the common rules of hospitality when she’d almost succumbed to the urge to toss his preppy butt right off the boat.

Ah, Dar, she chuckled wryly at herself. Your background’s showing. He’s not a bad kid. She kicked a pinecone ahead of her and glanced up the empty path. You’ll drop him off in St. Johns, and that’ll be that.

She climbed up the steps to Bud and Charlie’s restaurant, and paused with her hand on the door when she heard loud voices inside.

“Thought you could duck out on me last night, huh?” A snarl preceded, “Where’s the money?”

“Look, I told you we don’t have the cash.” Charlie’s tone sounded uncharacteristically tense. “You can’t get blood from a damn rock.”

“Yeah?” the strange voice answered. “Well, either you cough up that ten grand, or there’ll be plenty of blood on the floor of this dump, got me?”

“We can work somethin’ out,” Bud interjected. “You gotta give Terrors of the High Seas 87

us time. You know we’re good for it.”

“I don’t know shit.” The stranger laughed. “’Cept I know I’ll be back here day after t’morra, and either you give me what you owe, or I’ll take what I can get out of your skin.”

Heavy footsteps headed toward her, and Dar only just stepped back in time to avoid being smashed in the face as the door slammed open. A tall, burly man in a tank top and jeans that were far too tight shoved past her, giving her a cursory glance as he went by.

Dar stared at his back before she turned and entered the restaurant. Her appearance startled Bud and Charlie, and they broke apart a little, before they recognized her and relaxed. “What’s going on?” she asked without preamble.

“Morning, Dar.” Charlie couldn’t quite summon his usual friendly smile. “Get a good night’s sleep?”

Bud studied the floor.

“Fine,” Dar replied briefly. “What’s going on?” she asked again.

“Not your business,” Bud answered gruffly.

“Bud.” Charlie frowned at his partner’s intentional rudeness.

“Just a little business stuff, Dar. Nothing major.”

Dar put her hands on her hips and gave them both the kind of look she usually reserved for newly hatched sales managers questioning her decisions. “I deal with business ‘stuff’ all the time, and I never get threatened with bodily harm, though most of the people I deal with probably consider it,” she remarked. “Can the crap. What’s Cheapside Guido’s problem?”

“It’s none of your business!” Bud snapped before he turned and thrust his way into the kitchen. The hinged door flapped wildly behind him, then stopped with a sodden thunk.

Charlie sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Damn it.”

Dar waited with moderate patience. “C’mon, Charlie. You really want me to just forget it and leave, I will,” she offered. “But if you need help, I’m listening.”

Charlie glanced toward the kitchen door, then shrugged. “We can handle it,” he finally said. “It’s just the loan we took out to start up this place.” He plucked at the pocket on his shorts. “Taking a little longer to pay back than we’d planned, but we’ll work it out.”

Dar studied her father’s friend. “He wasn’t from Bank of America.”

Charlie snorted softly. “Hell no. Two beat-up Navy scrubs—

you think they’d give us a loan?” he asked. “We just went to the co-op. But anyway…” He determinedly regained his good humor.

“Everything settle down from last night? We chit chatted with Bob for a while. He’s quite a talker.”

“Charlie.” Dar leaned against the wall. She plucked a pencil 88 Melissa Good from Charlie’s pocket and picked up a piece of torn envelope that was sitting on the counter next to them. “Here.” She wrote down a phone number, then handed the envelope and the pencil back to him. “If that shark starts biting your ass, call me.”