In Too Deep by Cherry Adair Page B

act a little too enthusiastically, Michael thought sourly. Screw it. She wasn't recreation, she was a pawn. Nothing more. The charming act was for her pleasure, not his. He'd better damn well remember that.
    He did a visual scan of the area. The marina, and a long stretch of sugar white beach, nestled in the inner curve of the island. A village comprised of a handful of small, whitewashed houses was tucked in the valley formed by the base of the volcano. Spectacular emerald green folds fanned out around the base of the peak like pleats in a velvet skirt. Several small hills, like bumps on a spine, trailed off to the south.
    Coconut palms swayed and rustled in the warm breeze, and scarlet hibiscus grew wild and lush in every direction, bright among the lush tropical foliage.
    Paradise Island was a grandiose name for a tiny, bean-shaped island in the middle of nowhere. To the north, the cone of a small volcano reared out of the lush vegetation. High, steep cliffs on three sides made it impossible to breach. The island might be small, but it was impossible to approach without being seen from any direction.
    And an unwary sailor would ground his boat if he didn't know exactly where the channel was. Church's precious cargo hadn't been brought in by tanker. The channel was too narrow, too shallow. No, the cargo had been transported bit by bit onto the island. What Michael was looking for couldn't be far inland. As small as the island was, there was no form of transportation, other than a few bicycles and some golf carts. Whatever was removed from the ships had to be carried. And what had been carried was extremely heavy. So. What he was looking for was close. Close to the marina.
    "All set." Tally tossed him the bundle of her clothes and accepted a hand down. "Thanks." She smiled up at him. "I'll see you later."
    A burly guy in khaki shorts and an open-neck shirt came down the jetty to meet them. "Made it through the storm, I see," he said unsmilingly to Tally.
    "Gee, Brian." Tally brandished a smile so friendly, it should've raised all sorts of warning flags to the guy. "I'm glad to see you, too. Yes. We did. Michael Wright," she said,
    "Brian Kenyon. Brian runs the marina. Michael was kind enough t—"
    Kenyon shot an annoyed look at Michael. "This is a private marina, then, mate. You'll have to shove off."
    Not unexpected, Michael thought, sizing up the Australian. He stepped closer to Tally. "Now is that any way to treat a guest, mate ? I just saved the lady's life, and in the process my boat took a beating. What you want me to do, limp outta here and head for Bora-Bora?"
    "What were you doing out there—"
    "Good grief," Tally interrupted. "What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? The Serendipity ble—sank. Michael saved my life, that's all anybody needs to know."
    Brian stuffed his hands into his pockets, his eyes still on Michael as he said to Tally, "Where's Arnaud? Still onboard, then?"
    "He didn't make it."
    He shot Michael a suspicious glance. "Is that right?"
    "Nor did Lu," Tally informed him. "Poor man. Did Lu have a family?"
    "No. Fact, we were getting ready to have a service for you . Thought you'd gone for fish food. Lucky this bloke happened to be in the right place at the right time, isn't it?"
    She shuddered. "I'm sure my father will be grateful to him for saving my life, and welcome him here for as long as he'd like to stay."
    Brian glanced at her. "You think so, do ya?"
    "Yes, I do. In fact, I'm quite sure you want to help with the repairs to Michael's boat. Don't you, Brian?"
    Michael bit back a grin. He'd seen wrestlers mat their opponent with more finesse. But she'd got the job done. He couldn't have planned this any better if he'd tried. Having Church's daughter as his advocate was going to be the cherry on top of Church's downfall.
    Tally gave the Australian a speaking look, then said to Michael, "I'll let Auntie know to expect you up at the hotel."
    He mock-saluted her and watched her stride along the