Page 1 of Under His Command

Chapter 1

She brushed the hairthat had escaped from her ponytail, out of her eyes.

The breeze blowing in off the water contained more than a hint of coolness as night settled over the island. Cassie shivered, feeling goose bumps break out across her skin. Her short shorts and thin cotton camisole offered little protection. Born and raised in California, it should have come as no surprise. The chill of the Pacific with its northern current, even as far south as San Diego, was common knowledge. But when the sparkling blue water glistened in the warm sunshine, it made her forget.

She’d done so this evening when she walked down to the surf until the waves rolling in covered her bare feet and ankles. Although tempted to, she didn’t cut and run. Instead, she braved the cold for several minutes, getting used to it as she’d done as a kid. It was that or never get in the water, the latter an unacceptable option. Cassie would have been a professional beach bum if she could make a living at it.

As she stood, soaking it all in, enjoying everything from the salt-scented air to the sand between her toes, and the always soothing sound of the waves crashing into the shore. It muted the chatter and laughter from the party going on behind her, the one she’d just left.

She knew no one there and had only come out to Coronado Island to explore and get the lay of the land before her big day tomorrow. On her way home, she couldn’t resist stopping at North Beach to take a stroll along the sparkling golden-sand shoreline while watching the sunset over the water.

She hadn’t intended to stay long, but when she passed a group of twenty-somethings playing volleyball, she’d gotten caught up watching the game. Not only because the guys, who were lean, tan, and fit, had stripped off their shirts, but also because they were having a blast. Their peals of laughter rang across the sand as the girls on the other side of the net provided plenty of entertainment. Whenever they bumped into each other or tripped and fell in the sand, they erupted into fits of uncontrollable giggles. The coolers in the background, which undoubtedly stored beer rather than soda, were partly to blame, no doubt.

Cassie stood by grinning as they ran after stray balls, often going down in a tangle of arms and legs as they lunged to keep another shot from hitting the sand. Not once in the entire time she watched did they manageovera two- or three-hit volley. The guys, who were more coordinated—or less inebriated—didn’t seem to mind that the girls couldn’t get it together. She imagined they indulged their lack of skill because the young women were tan, fit, and beautiful, and wearing minuscule bikinis.

When they noticed her watching from the sidelines, and laughing along with them, they invited her to join in. She didn’t hesitate—something not like her at all—but after being alone in a new city for two long, lonely weeks, she was bored and in need of some fun.

One game turned into several, and before she knew it, the sun had set. They had to stop playing when they couldn’t see anymore but wouldn’t hear of her saying goodbye, and convinced her to stay for a bonfire.

By the time the fire was blazing, the coolers were empty, except for a few beer bottles bobbing in melted ice. One guy got out a guitar, and while he tuned up, a joint made its way around the circle. Cassie passed it to the person next to her without taking a hit, thinking it wise to abstain since she was starting a new job for the government the next day. She didn’t care in the least if the others indulged, however.

She didn’t need to get high. It was enough to sit cross-legged in the sand as she enjoyed the warm, crackling fire, the moonlit night, the sound of the ocean in the background, and good company. Not to mention the free entertainment because the guitar player could sing. A few others with talent joined in, harmonizing in perfect counterpoint to his melody.

It was a great way to relax at the end of two hectic weeks. Unfortunately, with her first day at work looming in the morning, she had to drag herself away much sooner than she wanted to. But before she left, she got a few names and numbers. She needed new friends, and this group knew how to unwind, something she’d be looking for in the stress-filled coming months.

As she walked down the beach toward the public lot where she’d parked, she felt the buzz from the beer and had topause to get her bearings. This brought her to where she was now, her face in the breeze, eyes closed, breathing deep while trying to clear her head.

When it came to alcohol, she’d always been a lightweight; two light beers her long-standing limit. She’d foolishly had three. Driving home would be stupid in her condition, so a cab ride was in her future. She wrinkled her nose thinking of the stale air in just about every taxi she’d ever been in, the tattered upholstery that had seen countless strangers’ asses, and the sticky floors—the cause of which she didn’t want to imagine—and didn’t relish the experience.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and took one last look at the ocean.

There was nothing quite like the Pacific. She’d grown up farther north in the Bay Area, but wherever she went up or down the coast, if she could see the water, she felt like she was home. She’d missed it while living back east. Boston was a great city. The people were friendly, the history abundant, and she had plenty to do, but the weather was horrendous. In the summer, she sweltered, but far worse than the heat and humidity was the bitterly cold winter with snow measured in feet, not inches.

She’d been excited the first time she’d seen the ground covered in white. Except what started as fluffy and beautiful turned treacherous if you got caught driving in it. When it hung around for days on end, she tired of it fast, especially when it turned into ugly, black piles on every street corner. And she couldn’t walk on the beach whenever she wanted, not from October until at least May without freezing her butt off. Enduring half the year without feeling sand between her toes was just plain wrong.

She was back on the West Coast now, hopefully for good, and in the morning, she started a new chapter in her life. To do so, she needed to get home, into bed, and try to sleep for at least six hours.

Cassie turned, scanning the wide expanse of beach for her landmark—a lifeguard tower just past the dunes—when a giant wave rolled in. It came up to mid-thigh, soaking the cuffs of her white denim shorts and staggering her a bit. She made a run for dry land before the next wave surged but didn’t make it. Another crashed into her and took her to her knees.

“Crap on a cracker,” she muttered while shivering.

The shifting sand didn’t make slogging through the waves any easier. Nor did the sharp rock or shell digging into the tender arch of her foot. Thrown off-balance, she fell to her knees again with a splash. To keep from face-planting in the surf, she put her hands out and went down on all fours, which allowed the next wave to soak the rest of her. They seemed to come in faster and more powerful, knocking her onto her back and dragging her out with them.

Never intending to go for a swim, Cassie shrieked in frustration. It turned into a startled yelp when strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm.

“I’ve got you,” a deep, masculine voice said from well above her head. He began hauling her out just as another wave hit. This time, she stayed on her feet but only because of his firm hold.

Once on dry sand beyond the reach of the rising surf, he stopped, steadying her with both hands as he turned her to face him.

“Thank you,” she told her rescuer, while gasping for breath.

A dog barking beside her made Cassie jump.

“Quiet, boy,” the man ordered the animal bounding excitedly around their feet.

With clouds rolling in and filtering the moon, the best she could make out was his dark shape and the whites of his eyes as he looked up at her. The next moment, he nudged her hard, his cold nose working its way under her hand, demanding attention. He was abig boy, his head coming up to her waist, and his body weight combined with the sudden movement knocked her into the man beside her.

As her wet body collided with him, his fingers clamped around her arms again, tight but not uncomfortably so.

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