Unforgiven by Anne Calhoun

Author:Anne Calhoun [Calhoun, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781101609545
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2013-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

14

ADAM TOOK THE wheel and rigged the sails to take them farther out onto the lake. They had hours before sundown, and he wanted to give Marissa as much sun and wind as she could absorb today. Watching her transition from mildly peeved when he showed up at her door to bewildered when they arrived at the airport to utterly astonished when he said they were going sailing combined to lift a weight from his heart. This was a thirty-six-hour reprieve for both of them, a sliver of dream sliced from day-to-day reality. When he’d returned to Walkers Ford he’d had nothing more on his mind than tying up loose ends.

This was more than a loose end.

Marissa followed Nate down the narrow stairwell, into the boat’s oak-appointed interior. Everything was neatly stowed, as befitting a disciplined former Marine, but while Adam was unpacking the bags Nate picked up for Marissa, he’d seen the razor in the head, the fresh supplies in the tiny kitchen, and the books organized in the inset shelf in the larger berth. Unless he missed the mark, his former LT was living on the boat, not with his wife.

Nate’s low voice rumbled, describing the boat’s features much as he’d run patrol briefings: crisp, clear, concise. They examined everything from the engine room to the head together for several minutes, then came back upstairs to pick their way through the neatly organized lines leading to the sails, where Nate gave a quick, basic lesson in sailing. As Adam watched, Marissa gathered her wind-tossed hair at her nape and focused intently on Nate.

When they finished, Nate helped her back into the cockpit. “I’ve got to make a couple of calls,” he said. “Got her?”

Adam nodded. Nate went below and Marissa said, “He said he’d brought a light lunch. Adam, there’s enough food down there to feed us for a week! Three kinds of salads, cold chicken, fresh fruit, French bread, and a chocolate cake.”

“That’s Nate for you,” Adam said. “C’mere.” He stepped to the side, keeping one hand on the wheel until Marissa reclaimed it. Then he settled onto the bench seat, stretched his arms along the back, and studied her. “It suits you,” he said.

The hat’s brim didn’t quite hide her eyes. Something wild and vibrant glowed there, as hot and steady as a welding flame, and when she turned to look at him, the connection was like gripping a live wire in his bare hand. “Thank you,” she said.

He held the connection as long as he could stand it, then looked away, because seeing her so alive reminded him of more than he could bear. He shrugged, and pretended to check the tension on the lines. “I just made a call. Nate did the rest.”

“That was his jet?” she asked.

He nodded. “His personal jet. His company owns several for business trips, but Nate’s scrupulous about keeping personal and work trips separate.”

Nate reappeared with bottles gripped in his fist. “I’ve got white wine, beer, and a variety of nonalcoholic beverages,” he said.

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