“I was trying to get back into port,” the rescued man was saying. “I don’t know what happened. One minute, I was pulling in the mainsail, the next thing I knew, my engine dropped out and everything started going nuts.”

“That can be scary, Bob,” Kerry murmured. “I capsized in Lake Michigan once. Not fun.”

“You can sure say that again!” Bob shook his head. He addressed Bud and Charlie. “You folks got a phone?”

“Nope,” Bud answered. “Marine radio.” He got up and walked out.

Bob blinked. “Something I said?” he asked hesitantly.

“Naw,” Charlie reassured him. “Just been a long day.” He cleared his throat. “Well, Mr. Gallareaux, I’m sure glad it all turned out all right. We got a spare bunk up top, if you like. You can get a run over to St. Johns tomorrow.”

Bob looked pathetically grateful. “You all have been so nice.”

He glanced over at Dar, then looked at Kerry. “How can I repay you? You saved my life.” He had kind, hazel eyes and a nice face, slightly rounded with high cheekbones.


78 Melissa Good A visible blush colored Kerry’s skin. “I’m glad we could help.”

She smiled at him.

Now it was his turn to blush to the roots of his red, curly hair.

“I feel like an idiot,” he admitted. “I’ve been sailing since I was a kid. It’s not like I’m a neo, but that storm caught me flat.”

“Weather’s like that down here,” Charlie said placidly. “Well, let’s let these ladies get some rest. It’s been a busy night for ’em.”

He got to his feet and limped awkwardly toward the door. “We can kick the generator back on since it’s late watch.”

Bob stood, removing the towel from around him. “I appreciate the offer. I’m about tapped.”

“We’re heading to St. Johns ourselves tomorrow,” Kerry said.

“If you want a ride over, we can take you.” Out of habit, her eyes flicked over to the Dar, who watched silently. “Right?”

Dar nodded. “Sure.”

“Thanks,” he replied simply. “Maybe I can start salvaging what I’ve got left there.” Bob folded the towel and put it on the table, then followed Charlie. At the door, he turned and looked at them.

“I owe you.” His eyes met Kerry’s, then he slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

After a moment of silence, Kerry rolled her head toward Dar and let out a half groan, half sigh. “Got any Advil to go with that incredibly wonderful smelling coffee over there?”

Dar blinked. “Headache?” she asked.

“Everything-ache.” Kerry was glad everyone was gone. “I feel like I was run over by a truck.” She cautiously straightened, wincing as her body protested. “Ow.”

Dar gladly chucked her emotional turmoil in favor of this new issue to focus on. She brought over two cups of coffee and a bottle of Advil, set them down, then took a seat next to Kerry on the couch. “Where does it hurt?”

Kerry put a hand on her belly. “That belt nearly killed me,” she joked wanly.

Dar untied her robe and opened it. “Jesus.” Her eyes widened at the lurid bruise circling Kerry's waist. “I bet that hurts.” She touched the bruise, then gently turned Kerry over. “All across your back, too.”

Kerry found herself nestled against Dar's chest. It was nice, even though she was still damp. “Honey, you need to change.

You’re wet,” she murmured. “You'll catch cold.”

Dar examined another bruise crossing Kerry's spine. She probed carefully. “Does this hurt?”

“A little,” Kerry replied. “More like an ache,” she added. “I don’t think anything’s seriously damaged.”

“Thank you for your opinion, Dr. Stuart,” Dar remarked dryly.

“Did you hit your head anywhere?” She slid her fingers up into Terrors of the High Seas 79

Kerry's thick, blonde hair and felt for any telltale bumps.

“No, I don’t think so,” Kerry said. “I’m just sore—that water was brutal.”

Dar stroked the back of her neck and gave her a pat. “Well, that’s what you get for being a hero,” she told her partner. “You scared the sense out of me, you know that, right?”

Kerry rolled over and stretched out her body, putting her head in Dar’s lap and looking up at her. “I scared the sense out of me, too,” she replied. “I realized in mid air just what an incredibly stupid thing I was doing.”

Dar’s smile was fleeting.

Kerry studied Dar’s face, seeing the residual tension in it. Her eyes were bloodshot and there was a deep furrow between her brows. She lifted her hand and touched Dar’s cheek. “Do heroic things always seem so dumb?” Kerry asked. “I mean, when you think about what you did?”

Dar let her hand rest on Kerry's stomach, her thumb rubbing gently against the soft skin above her belly button. “Um.” She exhaled, letting some of the tension dissipate. “It's a lot like pitching new technology.”

Kerry blinked. “Huh?”

“If it works, you’re a visionary genius; if it doesn’t, you’re a whacko,” Dar explained. “You saved that guy’s life—and it took a ton of guts to do it. You took a chance, and it worked.”

“Hm.”

“Just like I took a chance going through those reefs, and it worked,” Dar added quietly. “If it hadn’t, we’d be in real trouble right now, and if the waves hadn’t broken right, you could have been in real trouble when you jumped.” Dar cleared her throat, then leaned over and picked up the coffee, took a sip of it.

“Catching cold already?” Kerry teased, hearing the hoarse note in Dar’s usually mellow tone.

“No.” Dar put the cup down. “I was screaming your name so loud I lost my voice for a while.” She sighed, her shoulders unlocking and slumping a little. She lifted a hand and rubbed her temples. “I think I’ll have some of those Advil, too.”

“Tell you what." Kerry heaved herself up off the couch. She tied her robe closed again, then took her cup of coffee and gulped down a mouthful. “Instead of drugs, how about we get you out of those wet clothes, and get us both into that nice, dry, soft bed.”

“Yeah,” Dar agreed. “That sounds great.” She stood up and stretched, wincing at the pops as her back and shoulders released their wound up tension. “Hope that storm bypasses us.”

“God, me too.” Kerry stifled a yawn. “I want a nice, peaceful night’s cuddle with you before we have to figure out what the heck is going on around here.”


80 Melissa Good

“Cuddle,” Dar mused. “Yeah. I think I need a cuddle,” she admitted. “I feel sandblasted.”

Kerry captured Dar’s hand and led her toward the bedroom.

Inside, she turned and unbuckled the belt holding up Dar’s shorts, unbuttoned them, and let them drop to the cabin floor. The dim light in the room threw Dar’s face into shadows, but Kerry could hear her still-tense exhalation as she stripped off her short-sleeved denim shirt and tossed it onto the dresser.

Kerry removed her robe as Dar slipped out of her swimsuit.

She set the robe down as Dar sat down on the bed and moved over to give Kerry space to climb in next to her.

It was dark with the hatches shut, and very quiet. The boat was rocking gently, its violent pitching just a fading memory as Kerry carefully lowered herself onto the soft surface. She reached for Dar, and found open arms waiting as they slid together into a tangled embrace. They both sighed, then chuckled.

“What a day,” Dar said with a yawn.

“Mm.” With her ear pressed against Dar’s chest, Kerry could hear her heart beat. As she listened, one hand idly stroking Dar’s side, the beats slowed and the tense body beside her relaxed, as did her own. “Hey, Dar?” she asked after a little while.

“Hm?” Dar’s low murmur answered.

“Do you think those guys were just looking for a quick score?”

Kerry asked, her mind still churning despite her exhaustion. “The pirates? Maybe they just saw an expensive boat, out at night, all alone.”

Dar was quiet for a bit, apparently thinking. “Maybe,” she replied eventually. “Boat this size, out this far…could be.”

Kerry yawned again, her eyes closing against her will. “But you don’t think so, do ya?”

“Given that their yacht could financially eat this one for breakfast?” Dar snorted softly. “Let you know tomorrow once I get a database run on ’em,” she replied, rubbing Kerry’s back lightly.

It was quiet again for a while. Kerry kept her eyes closed, but sleep was kept at bay by recent memories of the night. “Dar?” she whispered.

“Yes?” Dar seemed wide-awake.

“I didn’t jump into the water to be a hero or anything stupid like that.”

“I know.” Dar stroked Kerry’s cheek. “I didn’t think you did,”

she replied. “Something had to be done, you were there, and you did it.”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Is that how it is with you, when you do stuff like this?”

“Stuff like what?”

“Heroic stuff. Like that time you stopped those carjackers and Terrors of the High Seas 81

saved me; that kind of stuff.” Kerry said. “Or what you told me you did for that lady in that bar when you were younger.”

“Ah…” Dar cleared her throat. “Yeah.” She sounded vaguely sheepish. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Mmph.” Kerry drew in a breath, then released it with a contented grunt.

The boat rocked. Thunder rumbled softly in the distance. Peace draped at last over two sorely tested souls.


Chapter

Nine

LESSON ONE. KERRY regarded her reflection in the mirror with critical eyes. Heroism hurts. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at the truly spectacular purple, green and red mark right across her stomach. “Glad I never went for the bikini look,”

she remarked after a moment, chuckling and scrubbing her hands through her hair before she smoothed it down into some semblance of order. Breathing too deeply was painful and her back was stiff, but she suspected she’d survive—with a couple of painkillers and a dose of relaxing on the deck.

It was sunny and breezy outside, and a good night’s sleep had restored most of her good humor. She brushed her teeth and slipped into an emerald green, one-piece swimsuit. “There.” She took a cautious breath, then released it. “That sure looks better.”

Her eyes flicked over her body, now so used to her heavier, more muscular form that it was hard really to remember what she used to look like before she met Dar.

She gave herself a nod of approval, then emerged into the boat’s main cabin. Dar was curled up on the couch—a tray of coffee, biscuits, and cut up fruit next to her on the table, and a magazine folded in her hand. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Howdy.” Dar laid the magazine down and shifted, nudging the tray toward her partner.

Kerry took a croissant, neatly split it, applied butter and jam to its surfaces, and retired to the couch herself, snuggling up in back of Dar and draping herself over her partner’s lower body. “Mm.”

She nibbled her breakfast. “Whatcha reading?”

Dar held up the Unix systems administration periodical.

“Nerd.” Kerry chortled softly, shaking her head. “Feeling better this morning?”

Dar stifled a yawn. “Yeah, a little sleepy, though,” she said, reaching over to tug a bit of Kerry’s hair. “What about you?”

“Well,” Kerry swallowed a mouthful, “it hurts, I won’t deny that.” She licked a flake from her lips. “But in kind of a weird way, it feels good, because I know it was for a good cause.”

“Huh.” Dar flexed her hand absently, a faint smile crossing her Terrors of the High Seas 83

lips. “I never thought of it like that, but yeah. I remember the morning after you got carjacked, when I couldn’t even close my fist.” She gazed at her fingers.

Kerry obligingly captured Dar’s hand and pulled it closer, kissing it. “You were amazing.”

“Ahem.” Dar cleared her throat. She put down her magazine and pulled the tray closer, dumped cream and sugar into a cup, then topped it with a little coffee. “I’ll be glad to get to St. Johns.”

She took a sip. “The place we’re going to has great food, and better views.”

“Ooh.” Kerry accepted the subject change gracefully, giving Dar a fondly knowing look.

“And I really want to get a line on those bastards.”

Kerry grinned. “Thought there was an ulterior motive there.”

She neatly took the cup from Dar’s fingers, took a sip, and then put it back. “But that’s okay, because I want to know more about them too.” She rested her chin on Dar’s hip, grinning happily.

“You’re in a good mood,” Dar observed.