Excerpt Impossible Thrills
Darcy Saint stood on a concrete dock in San Juan, Puerto Rico alternating between pasting on a smile for the camera man and avoiding looking at him altogether. It was beyond awkward to realize every time she scratched her nose it would be recorded and possibly showed to the world.
She used to have cameras on her occasionally as the wife of the wealthy and prominent businessman Johnathon Trattori. She didn’t miss that world or her ex. He’d probably cheated on her their entire marriage, but had been caught and exposed by his mistress’s husband in a very public display. She’d been devastated initially, but the loss of baby Avalyn far outweighed any mourning over her broken marriage.
Massive cruise ships were at port maybe half a mile away, but they towered above the ocean and seemed much closer. Her dock was pretty quiet and it wasn’t helping her nerves to hear the water gently lapping against the concrete, seagulls squawking and occasionally a dock worker calling to another.
Four men hovered on the sidewalk leading to the dock. They studied the quiet bay and her. She assumed they were workers waiting for the same boat she was, but it added to the awkwardness of the waiting period.
The billionaire heiress Mercedes Belle’s assistant Julie Pandoran had picked her up at the airport, taken her to a hotel suite where a makeup artist and hair stylist made her look prettier than she ever had in her life. She was given a beautiful blue floral sundress and sandals to dress in and brought here. Julie took her purse and phone, hugged Darcy and wished her luck, and left her here. Alone. Except for the camera man who hadn’t spoken to her.
She wasn’t used to alone or the unnerving quiet. She was used to a baby in her arms at all times and the sounds of babies and toddlers laughing, crying, chattering, or babbling. How would she survive a week without Samuel, Izzy, Missy, and all of her little ones?
A sleek dark-blue yacht sliced through the calm bay and approached her dock. It looked like something off of a movie—beautiful, expensive, imposing. If it was possible to feel even more out her element than she did, that yacht slowing and easing toward her dock did it. She and Johnny owned a yacht, albeit a quarter the size of this one, but she hadn’t gone out on it much. Now she was far removed from such luxury.
She fingered her locket, the only connection she’d ever had with her deceased mother. Inside her mother’s image was engraved on the left and on the right Johnny had thoughtfully commissioned an artist to sketch into the silver the one picture she had of her holding Avalyn.
Her throat burned with withheld sorrow as she thought of all she’d lost. Her baby born full term but never taking a breath on her own. Her husband cheating on her and divorcing her because she couldn’t ‘snap out of’ the dark funk of losing their long-prayed-for daughter.
The people on the rear deck came into view and thankfully drew her attention away from the painful memories.
Her jaw fell open as she looked over the beautiful group. Mercedes Belle, the heiress’s blond Viking protector Shawn Holister, another ultra-handsome man with dark hair and a friendly smile, and Bridger Hawk. The Bridger Hawk. Ultimate sports athlete extraordinaire, but more important to her, the husband of Avalyn Shaman, her inspiration, the woman who had created Health for All and changed the lives of millions of people in third world countries, the woman she had named her baby after.
They were all smiling at her. Well, everyone but Shawn. Mercedes waved. The large boat was feet away now, the captain expertly maneuvering it sideways toward the long dock. The four men rushed around Darcy while men from the boat tossed ropes to them. It appeared orchestrated as they expertly caught the ropes and yanked them tight before weaving them around metal bars jutting out of the concrete dock.
“Darcy!” Mercedes called out. “We’re coming!” The group filed to the rear of the yacht and down steps to a lower back deck where they could easily step onto the concrete and approach her.
Darcy pivoted to face the group but her feet backtracked. As the impressive party approached, she found herself moving backward even faster. It was too much. Bridger Hawk. Mercedes Belle. And that dark-haired hunk. Wow. She hadn’t really noticed a man since her divorce four years ago. Hard to notice a man when she spent her days around orphans and mostly-female volunteers.
It would be impossible to miss this man. Tall and lean with a confident bearing and welcoming smile. His eyes were like Orlando Bloom as Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean. She could get easily lost in eyes like that.
She should not get lost in eyes like that. Her husband had been a dark-haired, dark-eyed, Italian charmer. The man approaching her had similar characteristics and the confident aura of a charming playboy. No way would she fall for that. Not again.
Because of the fear that she would fall, she couldn’t stop her feet from moving the wrong direction.
“Darcy!” Mercedes cried out, her blue eyes lit with concern instead of welcome.
The three men all surged forward as Darcy’s back foot met nothing but air. She tried to lean forward, milling her arms frantically, but her body was airborne. A woman screamed, maybe her, maybe Mercedes, then she plunged into the lukewarm salt water and down she went. She had no idea how to swim. She kicked but the sandals felt heavy and seemed to drag her down. Her dress ballooned around her.
It was a surreal moment, like Elizabeth in Pirates when she fell into the ocean and Jack Sparrow had to save her, the cursed pirate gold dubloon around her neck pulsating and calling to the pirates.
Darcy’s eyes were open, stinging with salt water, and she watched her locket lift in the water and float up. She grasped it, terrified to lose it. What if the salt water ruined her locket and the precious images inside?
“No!” she screamed into the water, earning herself a lungful of salty brine. She coughed and spit and she was going to drown.
A body dove into the water and Will Turner himself angled down to her. He wrapped his hands underneath her armpits and swooped her up toward the surface. They broke the water and she gasped for air, coughing to expel the salt water then dragging in fresh air again.
“Are you all right?” the man asked urgently, blinking sea water out of his brown eyes, his dark lashes and brows even more pronounced with moisture.
“Will Turner,” she breathed out. He held her up with one arm securing her to his body. His free hand and powerful kicks were the only reason she wasn’t sinking again.
He grinned. “You know, I get that a lot.”
She stared at him. Awed. She should be humiliated at falling in the water and leery of the exact thing that was happening—she was drawn to him and she’d easily fall under his charming spell.
With him looking at her as if he were equally concerned about her well-being and enthralled with her personally, it was difficult to hold onto any concerns. She was grateful that he’d saved her and that he was here for her. She had the unrealistic thought that with this man holding her, nothing could hurt her again.
Coughing again, she turned her head so she didn’t spray sea water on him.
“You’re all right?” he asked, his voice more urgent.
“I … yes. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“Part of the job,” he said, winking at her as he tugged her toward the dock. Hands reached down and Bridger Hawk himself plucked her out of the water and set her onto the concrete. Shawn offered her rescuer a hand and Will Turner easily launched out of the water.
Part of the job? What did that mean? She’d crazily imagined she was Elizabeth and this man was her long-lost hero. He was only here for a job, and she was in no position to look for a boyfriend.