“Tatum.”

“Ray, it’s me, Austin. I finally made it to Rock Hill. What’s the situation?”

“Fucking storm is killing us,” he said.

From experience, she knew something was always killing Ray. She’d worked with him enough times to know his hyperbole masked a hard-nosed bulldog of a personality. He’d do anything necessary to protect the rig, the oil, and by extension, the company. She liked him, but sometimes he was a pain in the ass to keep on a short tether. “Looks like there’s a break for a while.”

“My fancy-pants PhD meteorologist tells me it’s a false calm. Another front will be rolling in tomorrow night or the next day. We’ve got a small window of clear air starting around ten tomorrow.”

“Can you get me out to the rig for a look around?”

“Unless something blows wide open tonight, in which case I can’t get you out here by boat or air anyhow, midmorning should be fine. I’ll have a bird at the airport for you.”

“How do things look?”

“The rig foreman, Paulie Antanole, first noticed the pressure drop at one in the morning,” he said. “His boys were right quick about getting the sealer valves engaged. Kept a lid on things, but we haven’t stopped the leak.”

“Can you plug it?”

“If we can isolate the level, maybe.” Tatum sighed. “Hate to kill the well if we don’t have to.”

Austin didn’t have the authority to order Tatum to inactivate the well, and trying to explain to him that GOP would be happier losing a few million in profits from this one rig than having a PR nightmare that would cost far more wasn’t worth her breath. Tatum was an oilman—he’d do what he was ordered to do if all else failed, but he’d want to save the well if he could. “But you’re not blooming on the surface?”

“One thing the currents are good for in this fucking storm,” he growled, “is they’re dispersing it before it reaches the surface.”

Austin wasn’t assured. Dispersion that far from shore was safe, if it was really dispersing. When Deepwater Horizon blew in the Gulf of Mexico, underwater plumes of oil rode the currents as far as the Florida coast, fouling beaches and poisoning sea life. They couldn’t let that happen here. “Who’s watching currents?”

“Ali Farr.”

“He’s sure we don’t have a collection that’s going to get loose?”

“Fuck me if I know. He says we’re good so far.”

“What’s your gut feeling on this, Ray?”

“I don’t like it. If we can get the remote underwater vehicles down there and get a seal, we’ve got a chance. If the fucking storm doesn’t hit. Otherwise, my guess is we’ll see surface oil in the next thirty-six hours.”

So they needed some luck, and hers had been running pretty bad so far. Austin watched Gem’s taillights wink in the fog. Less than forty-eight hours and Gem would know the rest of her story. The fragile link between them would be broken.

She blinked the fatigue from her eyes. “I’ll check in first thing in the morning if I don’t hear anything from you tonight. For now I guess we sit on our hands.”

“Been doing that all fucking day,” Tatum said. “I hope we dragged your ass out here for nothing.”

Austin thought of the hours with Gem that felt more like days, Gem and the scant time left to them. “Not for nothing, Ray. Definitely not for nothing.”

❖

Gem kept an eye on her rearview mirror, checking to make sure she didn’t lose Austin. Every few seconds, she caught a glimpse of headlights flickering through the soup. Ahead of her, her headlights disappeared in a blurry cone, giving her about twenty feet of visibility. Fortunately, they only had a mile or so to go, and at a cautious crawl, she spotted the sign for Gulls Inn fifteen minutes later. She pulled in to a miniscule parking lot nearly filled with cars. Not a good sign. She found a free space at the end and wedged in with enough room for Austin to park a few seconds later.

“Doesn’t look promising,” Gem said when Austin joined her. “The place looks full.”

The Gulls Inn, a three-story sprawling Victorian with ornate trim, a wraparound porch, and an extension off the back, appeared to have once been a private residence, now converted into a B and B. Most windows were dark. A small lighted sign over a side door read Office.

“Let’s go find out,” Austin said.

The office was little more than a converted foyer bisected by a short, waist-high counter. A door behind that presumably led into the rest of the building. Wall shelves held tourist brochures and maps, a printer, and the usual office accouterments. An old-fashioned bell sat on the counter with a handwritten sign that said Ring Me. Austin did. A minute later the interior door opened and an older man in a loose gray cardigan buttoned over a crisp white shirt and baggy black pants walked in. His thinning gray hair matched the color of his sweater. His blue eyes were friendly. “How are you folks doing? Bad night to be out and about.”

“Glad to be here. We’re about ready to stop driving,” Austin said. “I have a reservation under Germaine.”

His eyebrows rose. “I’d about given up on you. That reservation came in from—”

“Flights were canceled,” Austin said before he could elaborate on whichever of Eloise’s minions had made the reservation, probably on the company’s account. “We ended up needing to drive.”

He’d already pulled a card from a stack in an old-fashioned index box he’d set on top of the counter. “I’ve got you in the Harbor Room—got a nice view of the bay and a small private balcony.” He glanced at Gem. “It says here reservation for one, and it’s only got the one bed and bath.”

“That’ll be fine,” Austin said.

“Well then, I’ll get you the key and you’ll be all set. You’re on the third floor, at the back. You can get to it from the outside staircase. You’ll see it from the lot. Number five.”

When he turned to pull a key off a pegboard, Gem murmured, “I don’t think—”

“We’ll work it out,” Austin said.

Gem decided they could sort things out in private and waited until they were back outside. “Honestly, you’ve been more than a lifesaver all day long, but—”

Austin stopped abruptly, gripped her shoulders, and kissed her.

Gem’s knees went loose and she grabbed Austin’s jacket, a flood of desire melting the rest of her sentence and leaving her mind a hot blank. Austin’s mouth was soft, sliding over hers, warm and slick and possessive. Gem’s breath shortened, her throat tightened, and her lips parted to pull Austin in. No hesitation, no resistance, no brakes at all. Austin’s tongue played over the surface of her mouth, barely touching, a teasing invitation of more. More. Yes.

Gem moaned and slid her arms around Austin’s waist, pressing hard.

Austin stepped back and braced herself against the SUV. Gem followed, urgent and hungry. Her head swam and the kiss went on and on until she finally pulled away, needing to breathe, needing to…stop. She slid her hands under Austin’s jacket, her fingers digging into Austin’s back. Her belly was fused to Austin’s, her hips nestled between Austin’s legs. They fit. Everything fit. That couldn’t be right, could it? “I can’t think while you’re kissing me.”

Austin grinned. “Good. We should do more of it.”

“This isn’t me.”

“Yes, it is,” Austin murmured, kissing her neck. “Tonight, it is.”

Gem tilted her head back, surrendered her throat. “Just for tonight, then.”

“All right.”

Gem braced her hands against Austin’s shoulders and pushed away from her. Her body ached at the loss. She needed to move before she changed her mind. “Let’s get our luggage and find the room.”

Austin grabbed Gem’s hand, held it as if she was afraid she might disappear. “Yeah. Good idea.”

Austin pulled the bags from the back one-handed, and Gem found hers. Still holding Austin’s hand, she half stumbled, half raced up the winding staircase to the third floor. Number five was the first door they came to. Austin unlocked the door, shoved it open, and tossed her bag in. She took Gem’s duffel, threw it in after hers, and tugged Gem inside.

A barely perceptible gray glow streamed into the room through the balcony doors. A foghorn mourned in the distance. Otherwise the night was still and empty. For Gem, time held no meaning. For that moment, she had stepped outside her world. She’d never done anything like this before, not consciously, and she was very conscious of what she was doing. “I…”

“Shh.” Austin’s finger grazed her mouth. Despite the dim light, the gleam in Austin’s eyes was brightly visible as she backed Gem against the closed door. “I wasn’t done kissing you.”

Gem pushed Austin’s jacket down her shoulders. “Then take that off.”

Austin jerked her arms free and tossed the jacket somewhere behind them. Gem yanked Austin’s shirt from her pants and slid her palms underneath. Austin shuddered at the contact, her back arching.

“Fuck, Gem,” Austin gasped.

“Your skin is so hot,” Gem muttered, trailing her fingertips down the firm columns of muscles. “Beautiful.”

Austin gave a sound like a growl. “Trying to go slow here, but if you keep doing that—”

“Oh, I’m going to keep doing that,” Gem whispered. That and more. More. “There’s a bed right behind you. I think we should use it.”

Chapter Ten

The back of Austin’s legs hit the edge of the bed, she went down, and Gem followed, straddling her hips with both hands planted on either side of Austin’s shoulders. Austin was pinned, a position she rarely assumed and instantly liked. They were body to body, but with way too many clothes between them. She ached for flesh on flesh.

Too late. Too slow. Deft fingers danced down the front of her shirt, and buttons popped open. Her skin prickled in anticipation. Soon now. A touch, a caress, a teasing promise. A visage swam into focus—a blond halo of curls framing a sculpted face with starlit eyes. Austin gasped. A sliver of reason, sharp as a scalpel, sliced through the haze. Gem. This was Gem. Gem touching her, kissing her, and in two seconds they would both be naked and there’d be no turning back. She caught Gem’s wrists, forced the words out through a throat thick with desire. “Gem, are you—”