Sharron McClellan - Breathless

“He was wearing a towel.”

Liz giggled, and Jess found it impossible to be angry at the girl. She wanted to. Really wanted to. But being angry with Liz was like being angry at a puppy.

“Hey, babe.” Nate walked past and patted Liz’s butt then smiled at Jess. “Slugger.”

“Back at you,” Jess said.

He pointed to Diego, adjusting lines and prepping the boat. “You ladies going to chitchat, or are you going to help get us out of here?”

Liz gave her husband a peck on the mouth then followed him.

In less than an hour, they cast off and One For The Money moved past the moored boats on her way out to sea. Jess realized she had yet to see Zach since their quasi-naked encounter and a part of her—the embarrassed part— didn’t want to.

But there was no way she could avoid him forever. Especially when she needed to give him the coordinates for their search.

“Be a grown-up,” she told herself. “He’s just a man, for pity’s sake.”

But a finely chiseled man, her libido whispered.

She told her libido to shut up, rolled her eyes at her overactive hormonal response and hurried to the control room before she had a chance to change her mind.

When she entered, Zach had his back to her. He wore black board shorts, a loose T-shirt and deck shoes. Next to him was a man of about the same height and in almost the exact same outfit.

“Gentlemen,” she said, stepping inside, curious and cautious as to the identity of the other man. Both turned and in seconds, she knew.

It was Alfred Holiday—Zach’s father. A twenty-somethingyears older version of his son, his hair was more gray than brown. The body a little thinner but just as muscular. He also had the same green eyes. “Pleased to meet you, Alfred,” Jess said.

“Please, call me Al. You must be Jess,” Al said, coming forward. “Sorry I wasn’t there last night, but I had a previous engagement.”

From the way he said it, and from the way he grinned, she had no doubt the previous engagement was of the female variety.

“I hear that you’re getting my son into trouble.”

She blushed, and glared at Zach. Was nothing sacred? “I know I should have knocked this morning, but I didn’t know he was there.”

Al’s brows arched in surprise. “I was talking about the bar fight.” He glanced back at Zach. “Something you need to tell me, son?”

“No. Nothing,” Zach said, his mortified gaze begging Jess to shut the hell up.

“Uh, I have coordinates,” Jess said, desperate to change the topic. Pulling the worn piece of paper from her pocket, she handed it to Al.

Silently, he read it, stroking his chin as he took in the information. “That’s a little far out,” he finally said. “Can I ask how you came by these coordinates?”

“You can, but then I’d have to kill you,” she replied, falling back on the well-known quote.

“Fair enough,” Al said.

Jess smiled. Few people gave in that easily, but Delphi said he’d worked with the government before so it wasn’t a total surprise that Al asked pertinent questions but didn’t press when she wasn’t forthcoming.

Setting the paper aside, Al took the wheel, and Jess realized they’d cleared the small port and were entering open ocean. Al pushed the throttle forward. She heard the slight whine as the engine increased in rpms and the vibration beneath her feet increased.

The engine hiccuped then resumed.

The men glanced at each other at the same time, and Zach started toward the door. “I’ll go check it out, Dad. Why don’t you come with me?” he asked Jess as he walked past.

Crap. She knew what this was going to be. A talk. An apology. Something that would make her uncomfortable.

Might as well get it over with, she decided and fell in behind him.

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Zach said, once they were in the hallway.

She almost stopped walking. “Last night?”

“I should have warned you about the whole trial-by-singing thing.”

“Oh. Yeah. It was a little embarrassing but I’ve been through worse.”

“Marine?”

She did stop. “I never said…”

He kept walking. “You have that look.”

She hurried to catch up. “What look?”

“Jarhead.”

“Thanks,” she said, frowning. It was a common term, but she hated it. She thought it made Marines sound dumb, and the men she knew were anything but stupid. Arrogant? Yes. Pain in her ass? Definitely.

But not stupid.

Not if they wanted to stay alive.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he explained, eyes widened as he saw her reaction to the term. “I know most people hear jarhead and think that means someone who takes orders without thinking. Dumb. Whatever.” He thrust strong fingers through his hair in frustration as he tried to explain himself. “I didn’t think that. I don’t think that.”

“Then what do you think?” Jess asked, as they continued to the engine room, not eager to let him get away without explaining himself. She’d been uncomfortable. Now, it was his turn.

“I’ve worked with Marines before. A few rescue teams to be specific.”

Just as Delphi said.

Zach continued, “They pay attention. To everything. And they will do anything for each other.” He glanced back at her, smiling. “You’re like that. My men were in trouble, and even though we embarrassed the hell out of you, you were right there.”

“You’re my crew,” she said, uncomfortable with the praise.

They reached the engine room, and the twin engines ran loud but steady as Al held them on course. No smoke. No fire. All seemed normal.

Until she looked up at Zach.

Head cocked, his eyes were narrowed.

“What?” Jess asked. “What’s wrong?”

He held up a finger, indicating that she should be quiet. Walking over to the right engine, he kneeled down, peered between the moving parts and stiffened. “Jess?”

She hurried over, kneeled beside him, and he pointed at something. “Any idea what that could be?”

Her eyes widened. Metal casing. Wires. Timer. She knew what it was, and the thought made her gut twist. “Yes. It’s a bomb.”

Jess slid out from under the engine and sat up. Whoever had set the device was good. Very good.

Luckily, she was better.

“Well?” Zach asked. At his feet were the tools she’d requested.

“They used an rpm sensor on one of the propeller shafts to trigger the timer.”

He appeared confused, but she suspected it wasn’t that he couldn’t figure out what an rpm sensor did but it was residual shock from finding a bomb on his ship.

“It’s a cheap part,” she explained. “But clever. It reads the revolutions per minutes of the shaft, and as we speed up it converts them to miles per hour based on the circumference of the shaft.”

Zach looked up and to the right, his expression blank as he sorted what she was saying. When he looked back at her, she knew she was seeing the geek. The man that made millions with a single, complex thought.

In this case, not so complex, but so far out of his realm that it seem fictional. “So when we reached speed, it triggered the bomb.”

“Yes.”

“Will it detonate if we stop?”

She shook her head. “No. But it’s not going to stop the timer, either.” She braced herself, waiting for the panic that was sure to follow that statement.

He nodded, taking in the information. “This means they knew the circumference of the shaft. They know boats. Timing.”

Jess cocked her head, surprised at his calm demeanor. She’d expected fear, but instead he’d accepted the situation with unnatural calm.

Maybe his previous government missions were more dangerous than Delphi let on, and he was more accustomed to danger than she knew. Or perhaps it was simply denial. Either way, it worked for her and there was no time to analyze his psyche.