listening keenly for the splashes she’d expected. Five this time.
Thirty minutes to an hour later, the boat slowed again, and again she heard the splashes that told her four more men had gone into the water.
She was wide-awake when someone tapped lightly on her door. Throwing the cover off, she got up and opened it.
Hawk looked her over keenly. “It’s time.”
Sylvie’s stomach instantly cramped with fear, but she merely nodded jerkily and followed him out, trying to convince herself he only meant that they were going to drop her off like they’d promised. In the back of her mind, though, the fear steadily grew that he’d meant something else entirely, something she didn’t want to think about.
She discovered when she reached the top deck that Mac and Beau were standing by the side of the boat. Cavanaugh was at the wheel. She could see he was doing something but she couldn’t tell what—not simply steering. It looked like he was tying something to the wheel.
“Ready?” Mac asked, drawing her attention to him.
After studying his face blankly for a moment, she scanned the water, searching for land. A nauseating wave of fear went through her when she saw how far away that little ribbon of sand was. “You mean … you don’t mean …? I have to swim? That far?”
My god! They might just as well shoot her. She’d never make it!
“You can make it. We’ll help you,” Hawk said reassuringly, as if he’d read her mind.
She blinked. All of the men were burdened already with canvas bags that she 29
didn’t doubt were stuffed full of everything that wasn’t nailed down from the boat.
Cavanaugh joined them, picking up his own bag. “Now or never,” he muttered.
“The boat’s headed for open water and we’re getting further by the minute.”
Stepping up onto the low side of the boat, he launched himself toward the water.
“I can’t do this!” Sylvie said, panic threading her voice as Beau stepped up onto the wall and followed him. “I can barely swim!”
“You can,” Mac said bracingly.
Before she could object further, Mac grasped one arm, Hawk the other. They didn’t just help her up onto the side, however. They pitched her from the boat.
Sylvie sucked in a sharp breath to scream as she felt herself hurtling toward the ocean. She hit the water and went under before she could brace herself, swallowing what felt like a gallon of water. When she came up spluttering and coughing, she sloughed the water from her eyes and turned in a circle, trying to get her bearings.
“That way,” Mac growled at her, giving her a push in the right direction.
She hoped to god it was the right direction! She couldn’t see a sign of the beach now that she was in the water. She started swimming, however.
She swam until she thought her lungs would burst and stopped, struggling to tread water and catch her breath. Hawk and Mac, she realized, feeling a surge of panic despite her weariness, were several yards ahead of her.
Letting out a whimper of fear, she began swimming again.
Hawk paused, glanced around for her and came back. Pulling the strap of his bag from his shoulder, he thrust it at her. “Hold on to this. I’ll pull you.”
She clutched at it automatically as he shoved it at her, but the drag was more than she’d expected. She nearly lost it.
Hawk dragged her over onto her back and crooked an arm around her neck.
Between the drag of the bag she was holding and his pull, she thought she was going to black out. The waves, moreover, were high enough to wash over her face every few minutes in spite of his efforts to hold her head above water.
The struggle to catch a decent breath of air was sheer torture. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, and yet he swam steadily, seemingly tirelessly.
Minutes felt like hours. She had no idea how long he’d been struggling to pull both of them to the beach when he finally stopped to rest. When he did, Mac handed him his bag and began pulling
Thirty minutes to an hour later, the boat slowed again, and again she heard the splashes that told her four more men had gone into the water.
She was wide-awake when someone tapped lightly on her door. Throwing the cover off, she got up and opened it.
Hawk looked her over keenly. “It’s time.”
Sylvie’s stomach instantly cramped with fear, but she merely nodded jerkily and followed him out, trying to convince herself he only meant that they were going to drop her off like they’d promised. In the back of her mind, though, the fear steadily grew that he’d meant something else entirely, something she didn’t want to think about.
She discovered when she reached the top deck that Mac and Beau were standing by the side of the boat. Cavanaugh was at the wheel. She could see he was doing something but she couldn’t tell what—not simply steering. It looked like he was tying something to the wheel.
“Ready?” Mac asked, drawing her attention to him.
After studying his face blankly for a moment, she scanned the water, searching for land. A nauseating wave of fear went through her when she saw how far away that little ribbon of sand was. “You mean … you don’t mean …? I have to swim? That far?”
My god! They might just as well shoot her. She’d never make it!
“You can make it. We’ll help you,” Hawk said reassuringly, as if he’d read her mind.
She blinked. All of the men were burdened already with canvas bags that she 29
didn’t doubt were stuffed full of everything that wasn’t nailed down from the boat.
Cavanaugh joined them, picking up his own bag. “Now or never,” he muttered.
“The boat’s headed for open water and we’re getting further by the minute.”
Stepping up onto the low side of the boat, he launched himself toward the water.
“I can’t do this!” Sylvie said, panic threading her voice as Beau stepped up onto the wall and followed him. “I can barely swim!”
“You can,” Mac said bracingly.
Before she could object further, Mac grasped one arm, Hawk the other. They didn’t just help her up onto the side, however. They pitched her from the boat.
Sylvie sucked in a sharp breath to scream as she felt herself hurtling toward the ocean. She hit the water and went under before she could brace herself, swallowing what felt like a gallon of water. When she came up spluttering and coughing, she sloughed the water from her eyes and turned in a circle, trying to get her bearings.
“That way,” Mac growled at her, giving her a push in the right direction.
She hoped to god it was the right direction! She couldn’t see a sign of the beach now that she was in the water. She started swimming, however.
She swam until she thought her lungs would burst and stopped, struggling to tread water and catch her breath. Hawk and Mac, she realized, feeling a surge of panic despite her weariness, were several yards ahead of her.
Letting out a whimper of fear, she began swimming again.
Hawk paused, glanced around for her and came back. Pulling the strap of his bag from his shoulder, he thrust it at her. “Hold on to this. I’ll pull you.”
She clutched at it automatically as he shoved it at her, but the drag was more than she’d expected. She nearly lost it.
Hawk dragged her over onto her back and crooked an arm around her neck.
Between the drag of the bag she was holding and his pull, she thought she was going to black out. The waves, moreover, were high enough to wash over her face every few minutes in spite of his efforts to hold her head above water.
The struggle to catch a decent breath of air was sheer torture. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, and yet he swam steadily, seemingly tirelessly.
Minutes felt like hours. She had no idea how long he’d been struggling to pull both of them to the beach when he finally stopped to rest. When he did, Mac handed him his bag and began pulling
Similar Books
