s his eyes. “I may ha一ve
to deal with you later, but right now, I’ve got to drive my
boat.” He sits at the controls, presses a button, and the
engines roar into life.
Mac comes scooting back down the side of the boat,
grinning at me, and jumps down to the deck below where
he starts to unfasten a rope. Maybe he knows some rope
tricks, too. The idea pops unwelcome into my head and I
flush.
My subconscious glares at me. Mentally I shrug at her
and glance at Christian—I blame Fifty. He picks up the
and glance at Christian—I blame Fifty. He picks up the
receiver and radios the coastguard as Mac calls up that we
are set to go.
Once more, I am dazzled by Christian’s expertise.
He’s so competent. Is there nothing that this man can’t
do? Then I remember his earnest attempt to chop and dice
a pepper in my apartment on Friday. The thought makes
me smile.