Explosive Attraction Read Free Page A

of dark sunglasses, and his hair was covered by a Jacksonville Suns baseball cap. But she didn’t need to see his eyes to kn ow he wasn’t bluffing.
    The sharp pain in her sideand the warm blood seeping through her clothes told her that.
    She nodded, letting him know she understood.
    He waved the knife in front of her face in warning, before straightening and grabbing the steering wheel. A quick turn of the key and the engine started. With the practiced ease of someone familiar with boats, he unhooked the nylon lines tying the boat in place. The sound of footstepspounding against the wooden planks of the dock had him jerking his head up.
    Rafe Morgan was sprinting toward them, his arms and legs pumping like an Olympic runner. He was holding a large, black gun in his hand. Far behind him a uniformed police officer was running hard to catch up.
    “Police, stop,” Rafe yelled. He raised his gun, but didn’t shoot.
    The man with the knife cursed andmoved some levers next to the steering wheel, making the engine whine as the boat pulled away.
    Without slowing, Rafe launched himself off the end of the dock, landing in the boat on top of the other man, knocking him back against the bench seat in front of the steering wheel.
    Darby barely managed to scramble out of the way before the men fell to the floor on the far side of the bench,wedged between the seat and the side of the boat. They grappled for control of the knife. Darby prayed the blood on the blade was hers, not Rafe’s.
    Where was his gun? Had he dropped it? No—there it was, tucked into the holster at his waist. He must have shoved it there just as he leaped off the dock. He’d probably been too worried about hitting her to take a shot.
    A sudden rocking motionhad Darby staggering back, then slamming into the metal railing at the rear of the boat. She grabbed the railing just before her momentum would have carried her into the water, into the engine’s propellers. She shuddered and jerked back, her lungs heaving and her pulse pounding in her ears. She clutched the railing as the boat bumped up and down across the wake of other boats, racing out intothe middle of the Intracoastal.
    With no one at the wheel.
    The two men were locked in a deadly struggle, still wedged between the seat and the side of the boat. Rafe’s arm muscles bulged as he tried to wrestle the knife from the other man. Darby wanted to help but she didn’t know what to do. The dock was so far away now it was a tiny speck in the distance. And the boat was rocking wildlyfrom side to side, making it impossible to stand.
    She crawled forward on her hands and knees toward the other side of the bench. Rafe knocked the knife out of the other man’s hand. It flipped over the bench and rattled across the floor of the boat in front of Darby, just as she brought her knee down.
    A sharp, burning pain had her jerking back and biting her lip to keep from crying out.Bright red blood smeared the bottom of the boat beneath her, making it slippery. She fell again, banging her head so hard it brought tears to her eyes. A buzzing noise sounded in her ears, followed by a loud horn.
    A loud horn?
    She raised her head and her mouth dropped open. A much larger boat was bearing down on them, blasting its horn in warning as its driver turned to avoid them.
    “Darby, turn the boat, turn the boat! Hard to port!” Rafe yelled, just before the man he was fighting threw a punch that cracked the detective’s head against the side of the boat.
    Darby winced and edged around the bench, gasping against the fiery pain in her knee and the throbbing in her side. She reached up for the steering wheel. She had no clue what port meant, but she went on instinct,yanking the steering wheel hard left. They turned sharply, missing the other boat by a few feet.
    The wake violently rocked the smaller boat and sloshed brackish water over the side, drenching her and the men. Unguided, the boat swerved into one of the dozens of narrow channels