Page 7 of Vanished in the Mist
Her face warmed. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just—”
“Want to be sure you’re safe?”
“Right. Yes.” She cleared her throat, desperately trying to calm her racing pulse.Breathe. In, out, in, out.
He dropped his hand. “Shanna?”
“Yes?”
“What are you afraid of? The boat? Or me?”
She blinked. “What makes you think I’m afraid?”
“It’s a balmy spring day and you’re shivering like it’s ten below zero. You’re also extremely reluctant to board even though you said you wanted to come along.”
“I do. I want to help, to tell my sister I did everything I could to find Tanya. I mean, she tricked me, tricked both of us. But she must be truly desperate to have done that. There’s no way I can ignore her request now and go back to my original plan. Especially when a total stranger is willing to help. Ihaveto do this.”
“Your original plan?”
“Do nothing. Sleep late. Ignore the world for a week.”
“Got it. No shame in that. I’m sure you work hard and could use the break. Go on up to the cabin. Relax. Leave the search to me and I’ll update you when I get back. I’ve got this.” He turned away.
“Wait!”
He sighed heavily and glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”
Her stomach knotted as she tried to ignore the sound of the dark water lapping against the dock. “It’s not the boat. And it’s definitely not you.”
He frowned in confusion.
“That I’m…afraid of.” Her face flamed with embarrassment. “It’s the water.”
He blinked, understanding dawning in his expression. “You’re afraid of the water, and you still want to come with me?”
The wake from a passing boat had the dock bobbing slightly. She stiffened, the traumatized teenager deep inside her desperate to turn away, to run to her sister’s house and hide beneath a mountain of blankets. But the memory of the missing poster and the sound of her sister’s voice pleading for help over the phone was battering her with guilt.
Please, Shanna. Tanya’s parents need to bring her home. They’ve accepted that she’s no longer with us. But they can’t rest until they’ve given her a decent burial. Help them.
She swore beneath her breath, then stretched out her hand. “I’m ready.”
He stared at her a long moment, as if weighing her resolve. Then, instead of taking her hand, he straddled the side of the boat, one foot on the dock, the other on the deck, and clasped his hands around her waist. He lifted her up and over the side so quickly that she didn’t have time to be afraid or protest. He steered her into the interior behind the glass windows and had a life jacket on her almost as fast as he’d lifted her onto the boat.
She marveled at his strength, considering she was in no way tiny at five-eleven. He was probably six foot two, maybe taller, his broad shoulders and impressive biceps speaking to the strength she’d felt in those arms. That strength was reassuring, since he was the one who would be guiding the boat. Unfortunately, logic was doing nothing to stop her roiling nausea.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Don’t look at the water.
As he adjusted the straps on her vest, she finally found her voice again.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“No worries.” His deep voice resonated with empathy and understanding, sending a pleasurable tingle up her spine that had nothing to do with nausea and everything to do with how appealing he was. “You’re safe. The boat’s high-powered, with several engines. More than enough horsepower to get us back if an engine fails. It’s sturdy, easy to maneuver. Everything you might need is down those steps in the cabin. A galley, bedroom, head.”
“Head?”
He chuckled. “I’m guessing you don’t speakboat. The head is the bathroom. The galley’s the kitchen. And you can remember the overall areas of a boat by thinking of it like a compass, with north being the front. North, south, east and west are bow, stern, starboard and port.”
“Got it. I think. Wait. There’s a bedroom? Earlier you were arguing that we’d have to share my sister’s house, implying that we’d have to share the only bedroom, too.”
