Eden's Spell by Heather Graham Page A

of the wind and the pelting rain. She hadn’t been afraid before—now she was. She was accustomed to the weather; she had seen the water rise and churn many times before. But staring beyond portside, she could dimly see her small island, Rock Cay. The palms were already being flattened by the force of the wind.
    It was difficult to stand. Katrina wound her fingers around the cabin door frame.
    â€œIt’s bad!” she yelled out. “You need to hurry!”
    He grunted something, busy winding the winch to pull in the anchor. Beneath the rain and the slicker she could see the workings of his broad shoulders, and for a moment a thought chilled her.
    What if he had been a maniac? She had always felt safe and comfortable on the island, closed off in their own private world. There was no crime on Rock Cay; Jason went into Islamorada by motor launch for school, and they had friends there as well. There were the tourists, and there were the islanders, and everything was always easy.
    But if this stranger had been a maniac, a criminal—what would she have done? she wondered with dismay. He was a head taller than she, and probably had a hundred pounds over her. She could have never fought him. And then, what of Jason?
    Jason … still back in the cabin, alone.
    Ignoring Taylor, Katrina raced back through the yacht and burst in on her son again. He was kneeling on the bunk, watching the weather with avid enthusiasm and a certain wisdom.
    â€œMan, is it blowing! Is this going to be a hurricane?”
    Katrina shook her head. “I don’t know, Jason. But listen to me. We’re going to try and get into the cove. Stay here until I call you, okay? Then we’ll have to take the dinghy, or maybe even swim into shore. And, Jase, the water is going to be really rough. It—”
    â€œCurrents, Mom, I know.” He sighed with a patience that belied his years. Then he grinned at her a little crookedly, softening his words. “Quit worrying about me. I’m almost as big as you are and I’m actually a better swimmer.”
    â€œWell!” Katrina said, but then she laughed, even if the laugh was a little nervous. “You may be the better swimmer, but you’re going to listen to me, young man. You may be almost as big but you’re not bigger than I am. And I am worried, so take heed—okay?”
    He nodded. She started to hurry back, but he called her.
    â€œDon’t worry, Mom. He’s here.”
    â€œThat’s half of why I’m worried,” Katrina muttered, and Jason chuckled; the sound, again, was disturbingly old for his youth.
    â€œI like him. We’ll be okay.”
    â€œHow can you like him or dislike him?” Katrina asked irritably. “You’ve only known him a short time.”
    â€œNo,” Jason protested. “I conquered the Odites with him.”
    â€œThat was a dream, Jason.”
    â€œMaybe. But you don’t need to be with someone long to know if you like him or not. You just know.”
    Katrina hadn’t the time or energy to argue with such logic. She raised a brow, left the cabin, and clambered straight up the side stairs to the deck.
    The Maggie Mae was a three-masted sailing yacht, but like most such vessels, she had been supplied with a motor. Her sails were all neatly furled and tied; Mike, bareheaded now against the lash of the rain, was already behind the round, wood-spiked wheel.
    The motor was humming briskly, and they were headed toward the beach on the island.
    Katrina had to cling to the mainmast to reach him. She had just sat down at his side before they keeled port again, sending her crashing against his shoulder.
    â€œWhere the hell have you been?” he demanded harshly, barely aware that she was straining to balance away from him.
    â€œI went to see my son!” she snapped back.
    He grunted out something, then said, “All right—we’re almost there! What the hell am I