Page 1 of Impossible Thrills

Chapter

One

Darcy Saint stood on a concrete dock in San Juan, Puerto Rico, trying to avoid looking at the high-dollar video camera pointed her direction. It was beyond awkward to realize every time she scratched her nose it would be recorded and possibly showed to the world.

She used to have cameras on her occasionally as the wife of the wealthy and prominent southern California businessman Johnathon Trattoria. She’d never fit into that world, probably one of the reasons Johnny had been so quick to divorce her. She didn’t miss the wealth, the pressures, or her ex. He’d most likely cheated on her their entire marriage but had been caught and exposed by his mistress’s husband in a very public display. Darcy had been devastated initially, but the loss of baby Avalyn far outweighed any mourning over her broken marriage.

Massive cruise ships were at port maybe half a mile away, but they towered above the ocean and seemed much closer. Her dock was quiet, and it wasn’t helping her nerves to hear the water gently lapping against the concrete, seagulls squawking, and occasionally a dock worker calling to another.

Four young men hovered on the sidewalk next to the dock. They studied the quiet bay and snuck glances at her. She assumed they were workers waiting for the same boat she was, but it added to the awkwardness of the waiting period.

The billionaire heiress Mercedes Belle’s assistant Julie Pandoran had picked her up at the San Juan Airport and taken her to a hotel suite where a makeup artist and hair stylist made her look prettier than she ever had in her life. She had been given a beautiful blue floral sundress and sandals to dress in and brought here. Julie had taken her purse and phone, hugged Darcy and wished her luck, and left her here. Alone. Except for the cameraman and four young men, none of whom had said a word to her.

She wasn’t accustomed to being alone or the unnerving quiet. She was used to a baby in her arms at all times and the sounds of babies and toddlers laughing, crying, chattering, or babbling. How would she survive a week without Samuel, Izzy, Missy, and all of her little ones?

A sleek, dark-blue yacht sliced through the calm bay and approached her dock. It looked like something from a movie—beautiful, expensive, imposing. It was a testament to how different her current life of serving children in Tecate, Mexico was that a yacht easing toward her dock made her feel out of her element. She and Johnny had owned a yacht, albeit a quarter the size of this one, but she hadn’t gone out on it much. Now she was far removed from such luxury. She didn’t miss the opulence or the wasted time. Babies and a never-ending to do list were more her style.

Darcy fingered her locket, the only connection she’d ever had with her deceased mother and now with her deceased daughter. Inside, her mother’s image was engraved on the left and on the right Johnny had commissioned an artist to sketch into the silver an engraving of Darcy holding Avalyn.

Her throat burned with withheld sorrow as she thought of all she’d lost. Four years ago, her baby had been born full term but never took a breath on her own. At the same time, her husband had been publicly exposed cheating on her with a married woman. Darcy had filed for divorce and had been stunned by how quick it had gone through and how large of a divorce settlement she’d been given. Even though Johnny wasn’t much of a loss, she’d loved his family and they’d immediately cut all ties with her. It hurt to be truly alone in the world again. No baby. No husband. No family.

The people on the rear deck came into view and thankfully drew her attention away from the painful memories.

Darcy’s jaw fell open as she looked over the beautiful group. Mercedes Belle; the heiress’s blond Viking protector Shawn Holister; an ultra-handsome man with dark hair and a friendly smile; and Bridger Hawk.

The Bridger Hawk. Ultimate sports athlete extraordinaire, but more important to her, the husband of Avalyn Shaman, her inspiration, the woman who had created Health for All and changed the lives of millions of people in third world countries. The woman she had named her baby after.

The small group smiled in greeting. Well, everyone but Shawn. Mercedes waved. The large boat was feet away now, the captain expertly maneuvering it sideways toward the long dock. The four workers rushed down the sidewalk, across the dock, and around Darcy. Men from the boat’s deck tossed ropes to them. It appeared orchestrated as they expertly caught the ropes and yanked them tight before weaving them around metal bars jutting out of the concrete dock.

“Darcy,” Mercedes called out. “We’re coming!” The group filed to the rear of the yacht and down steps to a lower back deck where they could easily step onto the concrete and approach her.

Darcy pivoted to face the group, but her feet backtracked. As the impressive party approached, she found herself moving backward even faster. It was too much. Bridger Hawk. Mercedes Belle. And that dark-haired hunk. Wow. She hadn’t really noticed a man since her divorce four years ago. It was hard to notice a man when she spent her days around orphans and mostly female volunteers.

It would be impossible to miss this man. Tall and lean with a confident bearing and welcoming smile. His eyes reminded her of Orlando Bloom as Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean. She could get easily lost in eyes like that.

She should not get lost in eyes like that. Her husband had been a dark-haired, dark-eyed, Italian charmer. The man approaching her had similar characteristics and the aura of a charming playboy. No way would she fall for that. Not again.

Because of the fear that she would fall to such an appealing male, she couldn’t stop her feet from moving in the opposite direction.

“Darcy!” Mercedes cried out, her blue eyes lit with concern now instead of welcome.

The three men all surged forward as Darcy’s back foot met nothing but air. She tried to lean forward, milling her arms frantically, but her body was airborne. A woman screamed—maybe her, maybe Mercedes—then she plunged through empty air and into the lukewarm salt water. Down she went. She had no idea how to swim. She kicked, but the sandals felt heavy and seemed to drag her down. Her dress ballooned around her.

It was a surreal moment, like Elizabeth in Pirates when she fell into the ocean and Jack Sparrow had to save her, the cursed pirate gold dubloon around her neck pulsating and calling to the pirates.

Darcy’s eyes were open, stinging with salt water, and she watched her locket lift in the water and float up. She grasped it, terrified of losing it. What if the salt water ruined her locket and the precious images inside?

“No!” she screamed into the water, earning herself a lungful of salty brine. She coughed and spit and knew she was going to drown.

A body dove into the water and Will Turner himself angled down to her. He wrapped his hands underneath her armpits and swooped her up toward the light. They broke the surface and she gasped for air, coughing to expel the salt water and dragging in fresh air.

“Are you all right?” the man asked urgently, blinking sea water out of his brown eyes. His dark lashes and brows became even more pronounced with moisture clinging to them.

“Will Turner,” she breathed out. He held her up with one arm securing her to his body. His free hand and powerful kicks were the only reason she wasn’t sinking again.

He grinned. “You know, I get that a lot.”

Darcy stared at him. Awed. Impressed. Captivated. She should be humiliated at falling in the water. She should be leery of the exact thing that was happening—she was drawn to his warm grin, deep-brown eyes, and strong, protective frame. She could easily fall under his charming spell.

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