UP In Flames: Body Heat / Caught in the Act. Lori Foster

full throttle, and they both lurched, grabbing a section of handrail—and a part of each other. Mel’s fingers clutched his pant leg while he held her elbow. Gently, his heart pounding, he slid his hand down her arm to her slender fingers. Her hold loosened, and when she would have let go, he captured her hand, steadying her. Mel’s eyes widened and she looked behind her, as if only then aware of the storm and the deserted deck. The bouncing boat kept her from shaking him off. Over the roar of the engine, she said, “We should go inside.”

      An abandoned beach towel hit him in the back, plastered to him by the rain and wind. He held her just a little tighter while struggling to untangle himself from it. Thank God he had dry clothes in his bag or his meeting would be ruined. He couldn’t exactly make the deal of his life looking like a drowned rat. Another float whipped by, disappearing into the churning waters.

      Growing alarmed by the strength of the wind, Adam carefully stood, then helped her to do the same. From the sound of the revelers inside the cabin, the laughing and loud music, no one even knew they were still on deck. And just as Mel got to her feet, the boat veered sharply to port and she lost her balance. With wide eyes and a horrified scream, she crashed overboard. Adam cursed viciously and made a wild grab for her but missed. His bag fell from his grasp, and the strap to his waist jerked him off balance. He, too, went over with a gigantic splash, but more awkwardly than she, his head hitting the slide as he flew past.

      Just before he went under, he heard the roar of the receding boat motor, the louder roar of the storm, and worse, Mel’s nearly hysterical screams. Her fear galvanized him. Ignoring his aching head, he pushed himself to the surface and frantically searched for her while wind, rain and waves lashed his face. The side of his head hurt like hell, but he didn’t have time to complain yet. Mel was already several yards away from him, thrashing about wildly as if drowning. Adam felt a crushing fear when he twisted to see the boat going out of sight. Fighting the dragging weight of his heavy bag, he began stroking through the water toward her. Just as she let out another garbled scream, he reached her...and they both went under.

      * * *

      Melanie felt a slick, sliding movement against her lower body and opened her mouth to scream again. She managed to gulp a mouthful of salt water. Visions of sharks made her panic real and unmanageable.

      But then Adam’s blond head broke the surface, and he dragged her upward against his solid body. “Mel!” She felt his legs brush her, tangling with her long skirts, his hard arms around her. Nothing in her life had ever felt so reassuring.

      “Oh, God.” She gripped him fiercely, trying her best to ignore the reality of her situation. She loved boats, the sunshine and fresh air, but she had never quite envisioned herself thrown overboard, at the mercy of the Gulf and all its aquatic denizens. “Oh, God, oh, God...”

      “Mel, you’re drowning me! It’s okay.”

      He tried to ease her away, but she got one hand knotted in his hair and held on for dear life. His familiar scent, one she’d never forget no matter how long she lived, surrounded her, and she crowded even closer. His hair was the same, still too long, too sexy, damn him, and she used it like an anchor, holding him tight. She didn’t want to be shark bait.

      Her voice shook uncontrollably when she spoke. “Where’s the damn boat? Where is it!?”

      “Sh. It’s all right,” he said. “We need to swim, honey.”

      “Swim? Swim!” A vicious wave slapped her in the face, water going up her nose, making her choke and sputter. The furious storm continued, almost pushing them under. Would the turbulent water draw the sharks or chase them away?

      Shouting to be heard, Adam said, “The boat is gone. Mel, loosen up, you’re ripping my hair out.”

      She tried, she really did. She’d so badly wanted to make a good impression on him, and this surely wasn’t it. But she couldn’t get her fingers to unknot. “This isn’t happening...this isn’t happening....”

      “Mel, calm down. The idiots on board are either too drunk or too stupid to realize they lost us. We’re on our own until they dock and count heads.”

      If they counted heads. He was right about them all being tipsy, and she’d so deliberately separated herself from them, wanting to be alone, needing the solitude. Would they even notice she was gone? She moaned long and loud. “We’ll drown!”

      “No, we won’t.” His voice was calm, sure, just as she remembered it. “We’re not far from shore. Can you swim?”

      “What about sharks?” She looked around wildly, terrified, not certain if what she saw were shadows in the water or merely waves.

      “There’s no sharks here.”

      Her head whipped back around, and she tightened her hand in his hair, making him wince. “How do you know?” she demanded, shaking his head, wanting confirmation. It would be just like Adam to pull her leg, to play on her fear.

      “Mel, damn it, turn me loose!”

      Through her panic, she read the pain on his face and struggled to relax her grip. Adam circled her waist with his strong arms and held her closer. The contact with his body startled her, despite her predicament. Always, when she’d imagined such a scenario, they’d been on dry land, he’d been filled with abject apologies, and she’d been benevolent in her forgiveness.

      Instead, she managed to make a total fool of herself. Not that it mattered if they were going to die, anyway.

      Speaking close to her ear, he said, “I’ve got a Florida guidebook, The Key to the Keys. No sharks in these waters, I promise. Now can you swim?”

      “Don’t let me go!”

      “Honey, I’m right here. But we need—”

      Something bumped into them. It was huge and...red. She gasped, again choking.

      “A float, surely heaven sent.” Adam smiled at her, his eyes narrowed against the impact of the waves, his lashes spiked with the rain and sea, his blond hair plastered to his skull. But he smiled, and she felt ridiculously reassured as she treaded water. “Mel? Can you climb on?”

      She remembered the float blowing off the deck, and he had offered it to her. Lord love him. She gratefully grabbed the rubber edge and with more panic than grace heaved her body mostly upon it. She gripped it so tightly, there was no way she’d lose her hold until she felt solid land beneath her feet. Her wet, clinging skirts were everywhere, and whether or not they covered her backside, she couldn’t say. She felt too numb to know, too frightened to care.

      She felt Adam rearrange the skirt, felt his hands on her flesh and merely said a prayer that they’d survive.

      “Now just hang on.” Moving to the back, Adam levered himself up over her until his head was even with her derriere. She felt his heavy, sodden leather case placed on the small of her back but didn’t begrudge him that. As long as she was out, she was happy to accommodate him. He began paddling and kicking, propelling them forward.

      She felt like an ineffectual idiot, like a hysterical dolt, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She continued to look around, watching for signs of creatures of any kind. If she spotted so much as a goldfish eye to eye, she’d lose her fragile grasp on control.

      A thought occurred to her, and she yelled over the storm, “How do you know which way to go?”

      “I’m guessing.”

      “What!” He mumbled something she couldn’t hear and his chin bumped her bottom, then he shouted, “The guidebook, remember? I figure we’re still somewhere between the Keys and Marco Island. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

      She thought to question him further but decided against it. Talking was too difficult at the moment, and her teeth were chattering too badly to make good sense anyway. It was easier to trust him and let him take over.

      But when it seemed like an hour had gone by and her lips were numb from the cold rain, she began to panic again. He could well