The convulsion shook Ari with such violence that his hands jerked high. The oars jacked up violently in their rings, the boat immediately rocking as Ari clapped his hands to his head. Forgetting the life jacket on her knees Fran scrambled forward, wrapping her arms around Ari. The force of her motion sent him falling backward as well, but instinctively he grabbed her, holding her against his body as the boat tipped precariously one way, then the next. Her stomach rolled and she tried to scurry back, but Ari’s strong grip held her fast.
“Steady! Steady,” he ordered, his voice low and tight. “I’m okay, you’re okay. The boat will be okay too, but you must stop moving.”
Fran couldn’t speak, her heart thundering loud enough to drown out any other thought but that she was on the verge of imminent death. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling for control, for her center. But her center was cartwheeling dangerously, and the only thing controlling her was Ari’s powerful arms around her, pinning her to his chest and torso as his legs spread and his non-stop patter never faltered.
“You’re okay, yes? You’re fine. I’ve got you, you won’t fall in. You’ve got your life jacket and me and the boat and the oars. The oars float, did you know that? They float…”
Fran dragged in a choked breath, glad her face was resting against Ari’s chest. The thin cotton of his shirt did nothing to block the heat of his skin, damp from the exertion of rowing and the splash of water. She’d been moving forward to protect him, but now she was burning with embarrassment.
Embarrassment and awareness, if she was honest. Ari’s hands were moving slowly up and down her back—comforting her, quieting her. But his body was firm and muscled beneath hers, and she couldn’t deny how good it felt to be held in someone’s arms…even in such an awkward position. She hadn’t allowed herself to indulge in any serious relationships before she’d been accepted into college. After that, there’d been grad school to study for and an endless round of jobs for spending money. She hadn’t had time for a relationship…and she’d never found someone who she trusted not to ask too many questions.
Funny how it took a man who’d lost his own past to catch her off guard.
But the moment was passing. She needed to regain control of herself…and to let Ari get control of the boat.
She breathed out a long sigh. “We’re not going to die?” she ventured.
Ari’s laughter shook them both, sending the boat to bobbing again as she clutched at him.
“We’re not,” he assured her. “I’ll need you to sit up as I sit up, then to move back to your seat. Once you’ve done that, I’ll get the oars back in line, which will set us rocking again, but it will be okay.” His voice was quiet, like she was a fawn about to bolt. “Can you do that?”
She considered it. “Maybe.” She lifted her head off his chest to find him looking at her, his chin tucked down, his gaze steady. His shoulders rested on a storage crate behind him, and though his entire body was locked to provide her support, he didn’t seem to be in any discomfort.
“That must have been some work camp you were in for a year,” she said dryly as she braced herself against his chest.
“It clearly had its value. Easy does it.” Ari watched her as she straightened, smiling with reassurance as she slowly edged back to her own seat. “You good?”
“I’m good,” Fran managed, straightening her jacket with one hand as the other gripped the side of the boat. “You can relax now.”
Ryker wishedit was so easy as that. He sat up, wincing slightly as his body compressed, the pain serving to clear his head as he struggled to get his body to ignore the fact that seconds ago a woman had been sprawled over him for the first time in a year.
He reached for the oars, leaning forward on one knee as Fran went white again with fear. When she’d burst toward him, her arms flailing, he’d barely had time to register her movement before she knocked him back. She’d done it out of pure instinct, clearly seeing the shock of pain that had rattled him, but the woman had never been in a boat before and she’d nearly capsized them both before he got his arms around her.
Once he did, however, his pain had evaporated in an instant, replaced by the pure, unmistakable pleasure of a woman in his arms.
Fortunately, Francesca’s heavy lifejacket had kept her from becoming too intimate with his body, or she would have discovered exactly what he’d thought about having her pressed so closely against him. As it was he could barely breathe, and he needed the brief struggle with the oars to get back on course—in more ways than one.
He watched the sailboat in the distance as he began rowing toward shore again. It hadn’t moved. No doubt the captain was waiting to see exactly where he docked, but if they moved fast, he and Francesca could disappear into the city before any agents of the well-meaning Stefan Mihal could find them.
Francesca’s quiet words recalled him. “When you have an—episode like that, what happens if you think of the same place again? Does the pain come back?”
Ryker shook his head. “No. Once it happens the first time, the trigger disappears. The memory doesn’t get any clearer, but the pain goes away.” It had been the reason he’d been able to bear being around Stefan. “Almost like I’m still fishing, but I’ve lost the hook entirely.”
She nodded. “I’m glad of that, in a way. It would make it more difficult to land if everywhere we went made you flinch.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
The remainder of the trip was uneventful, and they found the rocky inlet exactly as he’d expected it to be. It was deserted this morning, and he ran the boat up close to shore as Francesca stared at him with eyes the size of saucers.
“I’m getting out,” he warned her as he tucked the oars inside the boat.
She squeaked in protest, slapping her hands to the sides of the boat though they weren’t moving at all. “You’ll get wet!”
“I’ll dry. Here we go—”
He lifted himself up and stepped out of the boat in one smooth motion, grabbing it to steady the craft as it bobbed upward without his weight to ground it.
“Oh,” she said, peering over the side. “I guess it’s pretty shallow.” She looked up at him expectantly. “I can get out now too?”
