Dana Mentink - Force of Nature

STORMY REUNION

Pulled from the waves and gasping for air, the last person Antonia Verde expects to be her rescuer is Reuben Sandoval. He may once have been the love of her life, but his drug-smuggling brother ruined their chance of happiness. Now with a storm blowing in, Rueben’s island hotel is her only refuge. Soon they find themselves trapped on the island with a killer in the midst of a dangerous hurricane. Antonia’s life is in Rueben’s hands—can she trust him with her heart, as well?

Stormswept: Finding true love in the midst of nature’s fury

The pull of the tide was strong, but so was she.

She sloshed out to deeper water and paddled past the sheltered cove. In the distance, the swaying cabbage palms that dotted Isla Marsopa bent under the increasing pressure of the storm. The familiar twinge twisted her gut as she thought about her past with Reuben Sandoval, exploring that tiny paradise.

Keep swimming, she told herself fiercely. Paralleling the shore, she fought the tumbling waves, making her arduous way up the coast, intermittently treading water to preserve her strength. In the distance, she caught sight of the dock where Reuben kept his beloved boat, and for a painful moment, she wondered if he had painted over the name on the stern, Black-Eyed Beauty, his nickname for her.

Over the cresting foam, she caught a glimpse of a Jet Ski moving slowly, the driver twisting his head around as if he was looking for something.

Not something. Her nerves sizzled.

Someone.

Her.

DANA MENTINK

lives in California, where the weather is golden and the cheese divine. Her family includes two girls (affectionately nicknamed Yogi and Boo Boo). Papa Bear works for the fire department; he met Dana doing a dinner theater production of The Velveteen Rabbit. Ironically, their parts were husband and wife.

Dana is a 2009 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year finalist for romantic suspense and an award winner in the Pacific Northwest Writers Literary Contest. Her novel Betrayal in the Badlands won a 2010 RT Reviewers’ Choice Award. She has enjoyed writing a mystery series for Barbour Books and more than ten novels to date for the Love Inspired Suspense line.

She spent her college years competing in speech and debate tournaments all around the country. Besides writing, she busies herself teaching elementary school and reviewing books for her blog. Mostly, she loves to be home with her family, including a dog with social-anxiety problems, a chubby box turtle and a quirky parakeet.

Dana loves to hear from her readers via her website, at www.danamentink.com.

Force of Nature

Dana Mentink

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

He calmed the storm to a whisper and stilled the waves.

—Psalms 107:29

To the brave men and women of the U.S. Coast Guard.

Semper Paratus

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

Something about the man silhouetted on the dock made Antonia Verde’s body hum with tension. His aviator sunglasses caught the waning Florida sunlight as he peered at his sleek cell phone, his mop of sandy hair tousled around his face by a steady breeze. No different than any other tourist basking in the warmth of a late November afternoon, Antonia told herself, eyeing him from the beach below.

The waves, green-gold and fueled by an approaching storm, slapped at her ankles. The air held a sharp scent of rain, roiling clouds speckling the white sand with shadows. Perhaps it was the threat of inclement weather that made her jumpy. But it was an incoming tropical storm, nothing more, hardly a source of concern for a lifelong Floridian, and she’d wanted a quick sketch of the agitated surf.

More likely her uneasy feelings were a by-product of what she’d recently survived. Having just returned from San Francisco, where she was almost buried alive in an earthquake-ravaged opera house, she had a right to be jittery. Not to mention the fact that she’d had the uncanny feeling she’d been followed on her way home from the airport by someone in an expensive car. All she’d seen of him was a flash of an arm through the partially rolled-down window, a split-second glimpse of his face. Who would follow an out-of-work artist driving a beat-up Ford?

I’m just on edge, that’s all.

Memories from her disastrous trip needled her. So what if San Francisco had been a catastrophe, netting her no job and no money to help her sister set up a new life away from Mia’s terrible soon-to-be ex-husband. She was alive and ready to find a steady job if it killed her, and nothing—especially not her own paranoia—was going to delay that. Still, she wished she could rewind the afternoon and make a different decision, to choose to linger in the shabby old family home with the cracked tile in the kitchen and the screen door that didn’t quite close. There were plenty of flaws in that house, but the biggest of all was that it was simply a house now, not a home. That was what had driven her out to the beach, the solace of waves, the healing salt air.

She sucked in a deep breath, pulled her long black hair back from her face and squared her shoulders. Common sense returned in a rush.

Why shouldn’t she march right out of the water and climb up to the dock where she’d left her sketch pad and pastels? The man with the cell phone was just a tourist, gazing out across the waves toward the tiny resort island accessible only by boat, shrouded here and there by clusters of mangroves. It was the place where Antonia did not dare allow her glance to wander. Isla Marsopa. Porpoise Island.

Reuben Sandoval was there, she’d heard, still trying to resurrect the dilapidated resort. She knew Reuben was advertising for a painter, someone to create a beautiful fresco for his hotel, but she would rather walk across a bed of burning coals than become involved with him again. There was only a tiny part of her that did not echo with memories of Reuben, and she was desperate to keep that smallest bit intact.

The man looked up from his phone perusal, eyes flicking across the pristine white sand, then returning to settle on her. What was it about him that struck her as familiar? She bent and made a pretense of examining the ivory perfection of a lady slipper shell. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him dial his phone, eyes glued to her as he did so, and flick a glance toward his watch.

It hit her. His chunky gold watch, worn low and loose on his slender wrist, caught the sunlight. Could it be the same watch worn by the driver who had trailed her for miles from the airport? He’d passed her at times, eyeing her so closely it made her blood run cold, before he fell back to trail her some more. Her heart thudded. Was he sent by her brother-in-law, hoping she would lead him to where her sister was in hiding after her release from jail? Hector would do anything to get his daughter, Gracie, back, and to punish Mia for taking her. After a long moment, the man tucked the phone in his pocket, straightened his sleeve and walked away toward the end of the dock.