Cajun Magic 01 - Voodoo on the Bayou by Elle James Page B

cursed, if he could have breathed. He braced his legs wide, absorbing the sway of the boat until it stopped. With one arm around her waist, he reached his other hand behind his neck to loosen her grip. “It’s okay. You’re not going to fall. I’ve got you.” He kept his words soothing as he lowered her onto the hard metal seat.
    Her arm around his neck only brought them closer when he bent over. His nose buried in her soft curls and he couldn’t help but inhale. Definitely flowers . He liked that it reminded him of springtime and wild roses in bloom.
    Once seated, she released her grip on him, grabbing her seat, her knuckles turning white. “I’m sorry.” Her smile trembled and her green-eyed gaze darted around the pirogue.
    “Why? Because you almost choked me to death?” He grinned wryly, his heart going out to her. “Don’t worry. I’m used to having women throw themselves at me.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “I was not throwing myself at you.” She sounded indignant, more like the self-assured scientist he’d met earlier.
    He breathed a sigh of relief. He could remain objective around the confident scientist. Just don’t let the frightened mouse reappear or he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.
    He turned in his seat, reaching behind him to pull the cord on the outboard engine. After the second pull it sprang to life, chugging and coughing smoke until it settled into a steady rhythm.
    With the tiller in hand, he turned to face Elaine. “Ready?”
    Her hands clenched the cool metal on either side of her seat. She gulped, then nodded.
    He smiled, feeling a grudging admiration for her. If she really was terrified, she was being pretty darn brave.
    He eased the boat backward until it cleared the pier, then he swung the bow around and headed into the murky swamp. All the while, he watched the expressions fly across her face in the little bit of light shining from the boat lamps perched on long, narrow rods at the front and back of the vessel. Occasionally, a patch of moonlight filtered through the dense trees overhanging the waterway.
    “I-I’m sorry about all the fuss…g-getting in the boat and all,” she said. “It’s just that I don’t know how to swim, and I’ve a-always had an aversion to deep water.” She peered worriedly over the side of the boat, shuddered, and then jerked her gaze back to his.
    So it was the water she was afraid of. Not the boat. And not him .
    For some reason, that cheered him.
    He tugged at the collar of his shirt with a lopsided grin. “That would explain the stranglehold. I’ll try real hard not to tip us over.”
    She stiffened. “Is it easy?”
    “Is what easy?”
    “To tip the boat. Is it easy to tip the boat over?”
    “Not if you’re careful. Just don’t lean too far to either side.”
    “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she said, her expression deadly serious. “Don’t you have bigger boats?”
    “ Mais , cher .” A smile tugged at the side of his mouth. She probably wouldn’t feel more comfortable unless the boat was a luxury cruise liner. He noted her fingers hadn’t loosened their grip on the bench seat, and his smile softened. She really was scared spitless. “If you want to catch frogs, you have to do so in shallow water. The bigger boats are for deeper water. They’d get bogged down where we’re going.”
    She fell silent, her gaze still locked on him.
    He steered the pirogue through the twisting channels, carefully avoiding overhanging trees. The little bit of breeze their speed stirred kept the mosquitoes at bay. He made wide, sweeping turns so as not to tilt the boat and upset her.
    At first, her rigid stare made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t glance back or he’d risk running into a tree or small island, but he did glance at her from time to time. She wasn’t bad to look at. Not at all like the flashy or business-suited women he spent his days with in the Big Easy. Her appeal was subtle. A quieter, deeper beauty you had to take a