The water is colder than I’m expecting when I jump off the side of the rock ledge. I’m taking a crazy risk jumping in blindly like this, there could be more rocks just below the surface, but my brain isn’t able to register the risks quickly enough to stop me.
The woman is pulled under the surface, and I dive below to grab her. Her blonde hair makes it easier to see her in the churning water below. I have to fight the undertow, but I’m able to finally reach her, securing my arm around her waist and pulling her up to the surface.
The near-silence under the water makes the surface near deafening as another wave hits us again. Somehow, I manage to grab onto one of the rocks, allowing me to catch my breath. Using what strength I have left, I slowly pull us back to shore.
I carry her out of the water, dropping to my knees when we are out of reach of the incoming waves. The woman doesn’t move, her still form, making my heart plummet in my chest.
Am I too late?
The lifeguard training I had when I was sixteen kicks into gear, and I tilt her head back by lifting her chin to open the airway. Pinching her nose closed, I begin to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Before I can start chest compressions, she turns her head to the side and spits up a lung full of seawater. The salt must burn like hell because she starts coughing immediately.
I take in a calming breath, grateful that she is okay. It isn't the woman's seafoam green eyes turn to meet mine that I register the beauty in front of me. She looks like a mermaid, something otherworldly with her long wavy blonde hair and curvy body.
Only a moment passes through us before the little girl and the dog tackles the beauty onto her back.
"Carrie! Samson!" Lydia scolds, but it's clear from her expression that she, too, wants to thank this woman. "Let her up."
“Thank you for saving him,” Carrie says, a hitch of emotion in her voice.
"I'm just glad you both are okay." The beauty smiles at the little girl before her gaze swings to me. “I’m glad we all are.”
I nod, shying away from any attention that might be turned towards me.
Lydia ushers Carrie and Samson away after getting assurances that everyone is okay. I push to my feet and hold out my hand to the woman.
“I didn’t get your name,” she says, allowing me to pull her to her feet.
“I didn’t have a chance to give it.” I smile at her. “I’m Jace.”
"Cordelia," she says but sways on her feet.
“Whoa.” I catch her in my arms to keep her from falling.
Cordelia lifts her hand to the back of her head, and her fingers come away with blood.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” I say.
“Where’d the blood come from?”
CORDELIA
Seventeen stitches later, the handsome stranger that saved me from an almost watery grave helps me into the passenger seat of my Jeep.
“I know what the doctor said, but I feel fine,” I tell Jace as he buckles my seatbelt for me and closes the door. “I can drive myself home.”
He leans on the open window of the door. "Do you really think I'm going to hand over the keys to someone with a head injury?”
“You smack your head on the rocks in the ocean one little time, and suddenly everyone thinks you can't drive."
Jace chuckles and shakes his head, pushing off the door and walking behind the Jeep to get to the driver’s side door. I lower the visor and recoil when I see in the mirror how my wet hair has dried into a wild mane that would rival a lion in Africa. Quickly I run my fingers through it, trying to control it somewhat. Jace opens the door and gets in. Of course, the only indication that he looks like he just took a swim in the ocean to save me is that his clothes look slightly wrinkled.
He runs his fingers through his thick chestnut hair, and it settles in that way that only guys can get their hair to do that looks unkempt but sexy all the same.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you,” I say.
In a blink of an eye, he goes from cool and collected to looking like I just asked him how old he was when he lost his virginity.
“It was nothing.” He shrugs, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of our small island hospital.