Page 31 of Fire on the Moon

The words were like a jolt of arousal, but she kept it under control.”

They clung together in the companionway, swaying slightly as the craft caught the wake from a speedboat coming in to dock.

Telling herself she was being stupid to keep testing his resolve, Francesca pushed away and headed back upstairs to the main room. Opening the fridge, she was glad to find bottles of water. When she heard Zane behind her, she opened a bottle for each of them, and they took a seat at the dining table.

“Now what?” she asked.

“I’m going to check out the helm.”

“Why?”

“Just to make sure everything’s in working order.”

“Are we going to leave the marina?”

“Probably not. But I want to be ready if we have to.”

She might have asked for clarification but decided to leave the topic alone. He spent several minutes in the captain’s chair, checking instruments before starting the engine.

“Does it have fuel?” she asked.

“Maybe three quarters of a tank.”

He’d just stepped back to the table when she heard heavy footsteps coming along the wooden deck.

Zane whipped out his concealed pistol so fast that she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. He pushed her down on the seat cushion, moved the curtain a fraction, and sat with the weapon trained toward the sound of the approaching steps. Her pulse was pounding as she glanced from the window to Zane and back again. He looked like he was braced for an invasion. But the steps didn’t slow and whoever was out there on the dock kept on walking past.

As the sound receded, Zane moved a window curtain farther aside and peered out. “It looks like a guy going to one of the boats at the end of the dock,” he said. “But stay down and let me make sure.”

He held the gun beside his leg and strode through the door onto the deck. She watched him gazing down the dock. He didn’t return for several moments, and she waited with her breath frozen in her lungs.

When he finally stepped back inside, she asked, “Well?” hearing her high, thin voice.

“If he’s one of the bad guys, he would have had to be already installed on that boat.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding, then glanced at Zane. He’d been gruff with her, but she hadn’t realized he was on a knife edge of tension. And she hadn’t helped any.

When he sat back down, he left the gun on the table.

She reached to cover his hand with hers. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been acting like a bitch.”

“Of course not. You’re under a lot of stress.”

“Is that an excuse?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been in a ton of dangerous situations. You haven’t. You were just trying to do something good for your father, and you walked into a mess. A murder and then a guy you’d never met before telling you the two of you were meant for each other. It’s a lot to deal with, and I wish I hadn’t contributed to the situation.”

“Well, it’s a mixed blessing. I know I can rely on you—totally.”

“You can. Always.”

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