Page 10 of Captivating Nash

The wind howled louder now, whipping the sea into frothy waves that battered the hull ofTheReveriewith more force than Deanna was comfortable with. The sailboat was built to handle rough waters, but even she could feel the difference. They were heading into something big.

“Life jacket, now,” he ordered, and she jumped to obey. Nash pulled up a digital map on the dashboard, his fingers moving deftly across the screen. “There’s a small island about ten nautical miles from here. We can take shelter there until the storm passes.”

Deanna’s heart pounded as the wind picked up even more, the sky darkening with an eerie quickness. She had been excited about the research expedition, but she hadn’t anticipated starting it by seeking refuge from a storm. Still, she trusted Nash—his steady demeanor, his instincts. She had been assured that he was a man who knew exactly what he was doing, and it showed now as he maneuvered the boat through the rising swells with precise, practiced hands.

“Hold on,” Nash warned, his voice sharper now as a particularly large wave slammed against the side of the sailboat, causing it to tilt precariously.

Deanna grabbed the edge of the console, her knuckles white, her breath coming quicker as the boat fought to stay steady. The wind whipped through her hair, and she could feel the chill of the saltwater spray as the storm finally overtook them.

For what felt like an eternity,The Reveriebattled the rough seas. The once peaceful, sunlit waters had become a swirling, chaotic expanse of crashing waves and howling wind. Nash kept his focus, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed against the elements as he expertly guided them toward the island.

Deanna’s heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her as she braced against the shifting boat. Every tilt and lurch sent a surge of anxiety through her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She trusted Nash—trusted his ability to keep them safe.

After what seemed like hours, the shadow of an island appeared in the distance, its rocky cliffs standing tall against the violent sea. Relief surged through Deanna as they approached it, the promise of solid ground close enough to see, but the waves weren’t done with them yet.

A final, brutal swell rose up behind them, towering aboveThe Reverielike a dark wall of water. Nash’s hands tightened on the wheel as the boat rode up the wave, tilting dangerously before crashing down the other side. Deanna let out an involuntary gasp as her stomach lurched, her body thrown against the console.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the storm seemed to ease. The island’s cliffs provided a natural shield from the worst of the wind and waves, and Nash guided them into a narrow, protected cove. The water inside was calmer, though the remnants of the storm still whipped through the air with gusts of wind and spray.

They were safe—for now.

Nash cut the engine, and the sudden silence felt jarring after the roar of the storm. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before turning to Deanna, his eyes meeting hers. For the first time since they set out, his expression softened, just a fraction, as if the tension between them had been momentarily washed away by the chaos of the storm.

“You all right?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Deanna nodded, her breath still coming in quick bursts as the adrenaline slowly ebbed from her body. “Yeah… just wasn’t expecting that.”

Nash gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “Storms can come out of nowhere in these waters. We’ll wait it out here until it passes.”

Deanna finally let herself relax, her body sinking into the seat behind her. The island loomed around them, rugged and wild, its rocky shore offering shelter but also a sense of isolation. She could see a thin stretch of beach in the distance, framed by jagged cliffs and lush greenery.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice sounding small in the sudden stillness.

“One of the smaller islands off the main route. Mostly uninhabited,” Nash replied, his eyes scanning the cliffs. “It’s remote. Quiet. We should be safe here.”

Deanna swallowed, feeling the weight of their situation settle in. Remote. Quiet. Alone with Nash on an uninhabited island wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined the start of her research expedition. And yet, despite everything—the storm, the danger—there was something about this moment that felt strangely… right.

She could feel Nash’s presence next to her, solid and unyielding. The tension between them, which had been simmering for hours, was still there—but it had shifted.

Chapter Five

Nash

Fighting to get them to safety had felt like hours, although he knew it had been far shorter than that. Nash had gripped the wheel ofThe Reverietightly, his knuckles white against the polished wood. The storm wasn’t supposed to have been this bad. It had come up fast, as Mediterranean squalls often did, but this one had the force of something far worse, whipping the sea into a frenzy of churning, dark waves. He had felt the tension in his muscles as he navigated through the treacherous waters, each swell a battle, each shift of the wind a calculated risk.

But it wasn’t just the storm that had stretched his nerves thin.

It had been her.

Deanna had moved about the deck with an efficiency that had both impressed and irritated him. After he’d barked at her to put on the life jacket, she’d seemed inclined to do whatever was needed. She hadn’t just held her own—she’d actively helped, grabbing lines, securing loose equipment, keeping the boat steady where she could. It had reminded him of his days in the SEALs, those missions where his team had to rely on each other, no questions, no hesitation, just action. They had been his brothers, his lifeline. And now, Deanna’s quick thinking and cool under pressure demeanor had stirred those same instincts in him, instincts he hadn’t wanted to revisit.

A sudden wave had slammed into the side of the boat, sending a spray of saltwater over the deck. Nash had cursed under his breath, adjusting the wheel to keep them on course. The wind had howled through the rigging, tugging atThe Reverie, trying to pull her off track, but the strong motor had kept them on course. The waves had felt like mountains beneath the hull, and the roar of the storm was relentless as the wind howled, lightning flashed, and thunder cracked.

He'd stolen a glance at Deanna as she’d secured a rope, her curly hair whipping wildly around her face. Despite the chaos, she had been focused, her hands moving with a confidence that caught him off guard. She had a knack for finding solutions under pressure, something he admired but didn’t want to admit. Not right now.

“Watch the mainsail!” he barked, his voice harsher than intended. The mainsail had been lowered, but one of the lines that had secured it was coming undone. If it came loose, they’d be in serious trouble.

Deanna hadn’t flinch. She’d adjusted the lines quickly, tightening the rigging and keeping the sail under control. He’d watched as she calculated the tension, making adjustments almost as if she’d done it a hundred times before. It had been infuriating to see how capable she’d been. He’d wondered who it was that had thought the curvy little sub needed saving.

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