Page 100 of Raul
When Raul wrapped his arms around her again, she laid her cheek on his bare skin, basking in the intimate contact that sent heat curling through her body. To hell with protecting her heart. This man owned it now.
She lost track of time as the boat skimmed over the sea and Raul held her, occasionally stroking her drying hair. It was heaven to be in his arms, her body snugged up against his, while someone else made the decisions about where they were going.
Then Pascal shouted, “There’s the Guardia Maritima cutter!”
Erica twisted in Raul’s arms to see the brilliantly lit white ship heading toward them, its bow painted with wide Calevan green-and-maroon stripes. She was torn between relief that theywere being rescued and regret that she would have to leave the comfort of Raul’s embrace.
As the cutter approached, things happened swiftly. Pascal was on the radio with the ship, directing their rescue swimmers to where the dragon was. Dario maneuvered their inflatable up beside the cutter. Raul spoke with the ship’s captain on his satellite phone.
“We have an injured person on board,” he said. “We need a rescue hoist. Thanks.”
“I’m not using a hoist,” Erica said. “I can climb the damn ladder.”
“You’re barefoot and bleeding,” Raul snapped. “You’re not climbing the ladder.”
A rope snaked down from the cutter. Pascal grabbed it and tied it to the inflatable’s bow. Another came down for the stern. Then a winch arm swung out over their boat, a harness dangling from it.
Erica rolled her eyes but resigned herself to boarding the cutter in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. When the medics saw the minor extent of her injuries, they would think she was a total wimp.
The harness dropped down to land in the bottom of the inflatable. Raul picked it up and untangled the straps while Erica glared at him. As he unbuckled the harness, he gave her a rakish grin. “This reminds me of rock climbing, except this time I get to check the fit of the harness on you.”
He bent to hold the harness for her to step into. Much as it annoyed her, she had to put her hand on his shoulder to balance in the rocking boat. He slid the straps up around her thighs and waist and buckled her in, tugging on the fasteners to make sure they were snug.
Then he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly against him before he lowered his mouth to hers.“Mi corazón,”he said, before kissing her long and hard.
Yes, heat surged through her body, but there was more. Her heart twisted and pounded as her love for him overwhelmed her.
He released her and shouted to the men on the deck. “All right, take her up! Carefully!”
For a moment, his hands were on her hips, steadying her as she rose from the inflatable. Then she was swinging free, missing the anchor of his grasp, before two Guardia Maritima crew members grabbed the harness and gently brought her onto the ship’s deck.
From there, she was swept off to the sick bay, where a doctor peeled away Raul’s makeshift bandage to inspect and treat her wounds. His touch was gentle, but the antiseptic he used burned like a branding iron, making her hiss in pain.
As he finished rebandaging the gashes, he said, “Two of those lacerations are pretty deep, so they could leave scars. You might want to consult a plastic surgeon when you get to shore.”
“Thanks, but how many people can say they have scars from a Calevan dragon’s claws?” she said.
The doctor shook his head. “You must be military.”
“Nope, just a pilot.”
He shook his head again before rummaging in a cabinet. “The salt water cleaned out the wounds pretty thoroughly, but I’m going to give you a course of antibiotics to prevent any possibility of infection. And here’s some antiseptic ointment to spread on the lacerations.” He handed her a small box and a large tube. “Make sure to take all the antibiotics. And stay out of the sun while taking them.”
“Thanks. I know the drill,” Erica said with a slight grimace as she thought of her upcoming trip to the sunny Caribbean.
The doctor picked up the pile of discarded and bloody fabric of Raul’s shirt.
“Wait,” Erica said. “Could I have one of the strips?”
“Sure.” The doctor looked puzzled but pulled one of the torn pieces from the wad and handed it to her. “Souvenir of the adventure?”
“Something like that.” Erica coiled it up into a neat roll and tucked it into her still-damp strapless bra. “Is there any reason I can’t fly a plane tomorrow?” Erica asked, since that was her biggest concern.
“Are you going to do aerobatics?” the doctor asked.
“Nothing too violent,” she said with a disarming smile. “Just a private jet.”
“Then I don’t see any reason to ground you, although you might feel some pulling from the butterfly bandages if you twist your torso. And it will probably throb a bit.”
