Alex checked her tank and equipment. When he tucked a stray curl of her hair beneath her mask, his fingertips grazed her cheek. She knew the pulse in her neck beat faster. Did he notice her reaction to him? Could she trust him to honor their truce? And keep his distance?
She followed Alex to the dive platform. He jumped in first.
When she entered, the water refreshed her hot skin. In awe, she swam with him to a depth of about forty feet where the gentle rhythm of her breathing through the regulator the only sound. With crystal-clear water, the reef appeared close enough to touch and filled her with awe and a kind of regret. Mom, I wish you were here with me.
Alex motioned to Kelly. She swam with him, past multicolored corals and aquatic life. When he pointed toward two mating sea turtles, she narrowed her eyes and was glad he couldn’t comment underwater.
After the first dive, they returned to the boat for air refills and lunch. Hungry from the morning’s exertion, they ate sandwiches and drank coffee. True to his word, Alex behaved like the perfect gentleman.
The afternoon passed quickly. She checked her watch, disappointed that it was already three o’clock and time to board. She signaled to Alex. He motioned he would follow and waved her on.
While she swam upwards, she realized how much she had enjoyed the day diving with him. A stab of regret that he would miss the next dive hit her, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to enjoy his company too much. He would leave the ship, and she would most likely never see him again. She didn’t have time to examine these feelings because above her another boat, with its twin propellers spinning dangerously, pulled alongside the Blue Dolphin.
At the surface, she gripped the ladder and slipped off her mask. She had to tell the captain about this new boat. They had to shut off the engines because Alex was still below.
“Don’t anybody move, and no one will get hurt,” said a man with a deep voice, in an American accent.
In spite of the waves tossing her ribs painfully against the rungs, she clung to the ladder. She ducked low and peered over the edge of the boat. A large, dark-haired man of about forty stood on the bow of a sleek racing vessel. A thin, white scar zigzagged across his cheek, giving him the appearance of a pirate. However, instead of brandishing a sword, he waved a gun toward the divers.
Two men were with him. The younger one had a scruffy beard and wore a camouflage hunter’s cap. He sat at the helm and grinned as if he enjoyed the moment. The other man, probably in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair, leveled an automatic rifle in the direction of the passengers.
Kelly hunched lower on the ladder, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. Were they being robbed . . . or hijacked? She searched the surface for Alex, wanting to warn him to stay low.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Captain Brian said.
“There won’t be any as long as I get who I came for,” said the dark-haired American who had spoken first.
She sucked in her breath. Who were they looking for?
A moment later, he said, “She’s not here. Let them go.”
She choked back a sob, thankful they were leaving.
“Wait,” yelled one of the men. “Someone’s on the ladder.”
Her heart punched like a fist hitting her chest. The dark-haired man leaned over the back of his boat, his dark eyes piercing her. “Kelly Cochran?” he demanded with a motion of his gun, “Up. We won’t harm you.”
Inexplicable hatred blazed in his eyes. Despite his words, she knew he would hurt her. She dropped into the water and swam hard. Where she could go, she didn’t know. She paused and fumbled to release air from her buoyancy compensator, so she could put her mask on and dive under water. Shots rang out, and bullets whizzed near her head, spraying the surface. Her heart nearly burst with fear. She was going to die.
“Mick, you crazy fool, you’ve hit their gas line. Get us out of here!” the man roared.
The racing craft rocketed past her, leaving a foaming wake in its path. Screams and shouts rang out from the dive boat. She whirled to see the Blue Dolphin, in an earsplitting explosion, burst into a volcano of flames. Debris rained everywhere.
A violent blow to her head caused a wave of pain. Then darkness.
Chapter Five
The Blue Dolphin was silhouetted above as Alex swam upward through the clear depths of the Pacific Ocean. A muffled explosion rang in his ears and a concussion of water tossed him back. His chest ached from the force.
Bloody hell! Kelly had gone up to the boat only a few minutes before him.
Once at the surface, he ripped off his mask and regulator. Smoke ravaged his eyes and seared his nose. “Kelly!” he shouted, his voice cracking.
Shielding his face from scorching heat, he whipped around, horrified. Everything was surreal. Fiberglass crackled and hissed as a ferocious fire consumed what remained of the diving vessel’s hull. Cushions, coolers and debris littered the water. He made out a boat in the distance, speeding away.
Terror gripped him. Where were Kelly and the other divers? His heart raced as he swam, searching among the destruction. He passed a mangled body and drew in a deep breath.
How could anyone survive the horrific explosion?
He pushed through remnants of the dive vessel until he saw red hair. “Kelly,” he said, his breath rushing out.
She floated face down in the water. Fear twisted around his heart as he gently lifted her head. Blood oozed from a shallow cut near her temple.
After unstrapping her tank, he fully inflated her buoyancy compensator. He then pressed his hands to both sides of her face. Sealing his lips over hers, he forced air into her lungs.
“Come on, Kelly, breathe,” he begged between breaths. He repeated the action, again and again, until saltwater bubbled from her throat. She choked and gasped.
“You’re alive.” Relief rocked his body. He held her close, but her head lolled in unconsciousness.
Then his mind reeled. He had to find other survivors. He treaded through the floating wreckage, hauling Kelly’s limp body with him past an empty soda can, a scuba mask—a severed arm with the fingers curved in a relaxed pose.
His stomach rolled. He drew in a deep breath and turned away from the nightmare to swim in another direction. A body popped to the surface in front of them. The half-blown away face of Captain Brian stared back. One bright blue eye remained in a fixed stare.
Gritting his teeth, Alex shoved the corpse away. Where were the cameras for this horror film? Except this wasn’t fantasy. The smell of fuel and burned flesh tied the scene firmly to reality.
Was everyone else dead? The water had turned red around him.
Then it dawned on his shock-slowed brain. Sharks would be attracted to the bloodied site.
With a firm grip on Kelly, Alex moved through the water, looking for anything that housed a raft. He spotted a trunk marked: Emergency Supplies. When he neared the box, a large dorsal fin circled dangerously close.
He stayed still until the shark headed in a different direction, and then gently treaded water toward the floating trunk.
Grabbing the handle, he let the swell of the waves push them away from the blood-steeped area. The damaged trunk easily opened. To his relief, he found an inflatable raft inside. He pulled the tab. A steady hiss of gas filled the rubber raft. He pushed Kelly inside, having to boost her by her firm bottom to do it. He shoved the trunk in, then climbed aboard.
Relief and exhaustion overcoming his body at that point, he sagged against the side. Waves slapped the sides and though every muscle, nerve and bone he possessed ached, he considered what had just happened.
What had caused the explosion? An air tank or the compressor?
Alex studied Kelly’s face. She should’ve come around by now. Blood trickled down her cheek. He reached into the trunk and found a first aid kit.
When he rolled her to her back, she remained motionless. Alarm gnawed at his insides. He leaned over her and pressed his ear to her chest . . . and heard a strong hear
tbeat. Thank God.
He gently shook her. “Kelly?”
Her eyes flickered open. “Robert?”
“No,” he snapped. “It’s Alex, not your beloved Hillyard. There was an explosion on the dive boat. I pulled you out of the water.” His voice sounded gruffer than he intended.
She raised her palm to her temple. When she drew back her bloodied fingers, she gasped.
“You’re going to be all right.” He retrieved gauze from the first aid kit and wiped the blood from her hand. Her gaze locked on his as he gently bound her head.
“You’re lucky.” He gave her a brief reassuring smile as he tied the bandage. “You’ve only a bump and a small cut.”
When she tried to sit up, he placed a hand on her shoulder and held her down. “Lie still. I don’t want you passing out on me again. Can I get you water?”
“No,” she whispered. “Just my bag, please.” Then she closed her eyes and fainted anyway. Women. Even in the face of danger, they were concerned about their purses.
He lifted her wrist, reassured by her strong pulse. Kelly, no doubt, would live.
He took from the trunk two extendable oars and paddled back to where the accident had occurred. He hauled into the raft three slightly charred coolers and several bags that floated on the water.
When he spotted Kelly’s green gear bag, he reached out. A shark surfaced five feet away. He yanked the bag into the raft. Bloody hell, he could have lost a hand in the deal.
He rowed away from the blood-saturated area and then rummaged through the emergency trunk. Among other miscellaneous items, he found a canvas tarp, a rope, a survival manual and a thermos with water, but no sign of the flares he’d hoped to find.
Shielding his eyes, he frowned and surveyed the horizon. Where were the rescuers? He checked his watch. Four p.m. The boat that sped away should have reported the accident by now. He could do nothing but sit and wait, taunted by regret that he had been unable to do anything for the other divers.
The tropical sun burned hot so he stripped off his wetsuit. Kelly hadn’t moved at all.
He hauled her to a sitting position and gently shook her arms. “Wake up, love.”
She sagged against him. “Too tired.” Her warm, perspiring face pressed into his bare chest.
A tremor ran through him.
He clasped her chin. “Come on, Kelly, wake up, or I’ll have to get you out of this wetsuit. Do you hear me? It’s too bloody damn hot for you to wear.”
When she didn’t respond, he laid her on her back. He unzipped her wetsuit, down over her breasts, her trim flat stomach, and down further where the zipper stopped on her bikini bottoms. Good thing she was out cold or she’d be angry as hell about this.
Undressing an unconscious woman was a first for him. He peeled the wetsuit off her shoulders and traced with his fingers the yellow bruises on her neck. How had she gotten them? From Hillyard?
He tugged the wetsuit over her full breasts, managing to keep the small fabric of her bikini top in place, then dragged the suit down farther, past her slim flat stomach, over her rounded hips, off her thighs and knees to her slim ankles. Her legs fell open in an inviting position. He put his hands on her knees and closed them together, then pulled the suit off her feet.
His task finished, he let out a deep breath and checked his watch again. Five p.m. Where in the bloody hell were the police and the emergency crews who should be out searching for survivors?
He leaned against the edge of the raft, his eyes scouring the horizon for a rescue ship or plane, but only the endless blue ocean lay before him. Wave, after rolling wave, rocked the raft.
* * *
Pain tugged Kelly from the darkness. She opened her eyes to a setting sun shot with crimson and gold. Where was she? She licked her dry, salty lips and tried to sit. A throbbing headache sabotaged her efforts. She fell back in agony and moaned. When the pain in her head subsided, she lifted her hand to the thick bandage. How badly was she hurt?
Alex . . . He had been with her. She jerked her head, searching for him. In spite of excruciating pain, she was comforted to see he was safe and sleeping beside her. His tank and diving suit discarded beside him, he wore nothing more than swimming trunks.
Why were they in a rubber raft? Memories of the attack and the fiery explosion flooded her mind. She shuddered. Those men . . . They had tried to kill her.
Trembling, Kelly sat up, fighting the blackness and nausea which threatened to lay her flat again. Where were the other divers?
She placed her hand on one of Alex’s perfect, bare shoulders. Touching his smooth, warm skin only confused her, so she shook him hard.
“Wake up, Alex.”
He bolted up and rubbed his eyes. “Damn. I didn’t mean to sleep. How are you?”
“I’m okay, but my head hurts.”
“I was underwater when the explosion occurred. Did you see what happened?”
Her mouth went dry. “Three men with guns attacked the boat. They were . . . looking for someone.”
“Did they say who?”
Guilt burning her cheeks, she shrugged. She couldn’t tell him those men had wanted to kill her because of her father. She couldn’t risk this getting into the media. She had to tell the police privately.
“I don’t have any enemies, unless this is Vanessa’s way of getting rid of an ex-husband,” he said dryly. He leaned back against the raft. “Did you get a good look at them?”
She shuddered. “I’ll never forget their faces.”
His expression grew somber. “We’re the only survivors.”
“No,” she cried, horror engulfing her. “Oh, my God. No, please, don’t tell me this.”
“Kelly, everyone is dead.”
Guilt assaulted her. Her worst fears realized. More people were hurt because of her father. Another tragedy that would be laid on him.
“How long ago did it happen?” she asked in a whisper.
“About six hours.”
Hot tears slid down her cheeks. “If only I could’ve done something to help.”
He shook his head. “They were dead instantly. How did you survive?”
She choked out, “I wasn’t on the dive boat yet.” She should have been the one dead.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be rescued soon.”
Kelly hugged her knees. He didn’t understand. This was her fault. If she had stayed in L.A., or had just gone with those men, this would never have happened. She stared over the moving ocean water through blurry eyes. They sat in silence floating on an endless sea.
Finally, Alex gestured to the containers at her feet. “Would you like something to drink or eat?”
“Yes, water, please.”
He handed her a water bottle. “We have several more.” Then he reached behind and retrieved her bag. “You were so concerned about this after the accident.”
“I was? Thank you.” She rummaged inside her bag. Her fingers grazed the diamond ring Robert had given her. He would be frantic with worry. She slid the ring on, fairly sure the piece of tape she’d wrapped around the back made the ring snug enough on her finger.
“Bloody hell,” Alex snapped, causing her to jump. “Did you know I risked a shark bite for that trinket?”
“I’m sorry. Thank you for saving my life.” She plucked the strings of her bikini top and realized he’d stripped off her wet suit. Her cheeks went hot. “You were kind to think of my comfort.”
He shrugged a bare shoulder, which reminded her they were alone and nearly naked again. “The pleasure was mine.”
When he turned back toward the water, she sighed in relief. He seemed appeased by her apology. She hadn’t really thought much about the ring, except that she didn’t want to lose it.
Kelly pulled a compact mirror from her bag and lifted the edge of the bandage to look at her temple. “Not too bad. The bleeding has stopped.”
“Don’t lose that mirror overboard. If we don’t get picked up tonight, we might be able to signal an airplane or boat in
the morning.”
“Right.” After she put everything away, she settled against the side of the raft.
Her head still ached, but not quite so fiercely. She shielded her eyes and searched for any sign of the rescuers. Nothing but blue water spread in all directions. To the east, the horizon darkened, while the setting sun to the west made the ocean turn into silvery ripples.
She wanted to confide in Alex that someone was out to kill her, but the thought that it would be blasted all over the news brought dread to her insides. “Why haven’t we been rescued?”
“We’ve drifted from the reef. And there were no flares.” He must have seen her despondence because he added in a positive voice, “They’ll find us. It’ll take a little longer, that’s all. Don’t worry. Hillyard will have an entire fleet out looking for you.”
She sighed, supposing his remark was a compliment, even though coming from Alex it seemed more like a dig. However, he was right. Robert wouldn’t give up.
Alex’s words of hope rang hollow as stars gradually dotted the sky. She became increasingly uneasy when the wind picked up and pushed the raft on the vast black sea.
During a brief downpour in the night, Kelly followed Alex’s lead and allowed the cool rain to wash off the salt and refresh her skin. The bleeding stopped, she unwound the water-soaked bandage from her head.
Though refreshed, she huddled beneath the canvas tarp and shivered while Alex bailed out the rainwater. When he joined her, their knees or legs constantly bumped.
Eventually, he stretched out in the raft. His even breathing indicated he’d fallen asleep. She wanted to lie down, too, but the only space was beside him so she huddled into a ball, rested her head on the edge of the raft, and let exhaustion overtake her.
* * *
Thunder crackled and boomed. Alex awoke and poked his head out from under the tarp. Cool raindrops sprinkled his face. Thankfully, the storm appeared to be moving away from them. With a new day, the rescue teams should find them.
He bailed out the rainwater which had accumulated in the raft during the night. Kelly yawned and stretched, causing her full breasts to strain against the string bikini top.
Dangerous Paradise Page 7