Tides of Passion by Tracy Sumner Page A

smaller than the one I was in before."
    "No doubt, princess."
    She frowned but obviously decided his plan of action seemed best. Grasping his hand so hard he winced, she boarded the skiff as apprehensively as a sinner entering the caverns of hell.
    City girls sure didn't belong on the water.
    Damned, though, if he wouldn't take city over country any day, if this was the end result. She'd obviously borrowed an item or two of clothing from Elle and mixed those with her own. Her outfit, a curious blend of tattered sea attire and contemporary fashion, gave Zach his first sight of her looking young, fresh, pretty, and terribly out of her element. Settling in behind her, he decided he felt more in control than he had when he'd kissed her.
    With a billow of white canvas, the skiff sailed from the dock. Shading her eyes, he watched her tilt her head back, recording the progress of a flock of seagulls that had chosen to follow along.
    "The gulls want food. A scrap of bait, maybe a shrimp. I feed 'em stale bread even if it has some green stuff on the edges. They don't care, 'cuz my Uncle Noah says they'll eat practically anything that won't eat 'em first." Rory leaned over the edge of the skiff, batting at the waves slapping the hull. "But we don't got none. Just stupid coleslaw."
    "Young man, hand inside the boat."
    "Awww, poop, Starchy. You're no fun."
    Savannah lowered her head but her laugher drifted out on the salty breeze, withering Zach's reprimand in his throat. Of course, Rory followed suit, giggling and holding his side, pleased to entertain.
    Zach gritted his teeth and grappled with the lines, ignoring them both. Damn Caleb and that stupid nickname, anyway. The boy was going to be a handful today, and Miss Connor, well, she looked good enough to eat.
    As Rory chattered away, telling "Miss Savannah" all he knew about the shoals and inlets, the island they lived on, and the one they sailed to, Zach noted that she listened with genuine interest if not ease.
    They hadn't spoken more than five words to each other all morning and hadn't touched once, unless you counted his helping her into the boat.
    He didn't.
    He only wanted to count the times he touched her and her eyes darkened with pleasure. The times her breath crossed her lips in eager little pants.
    Suddenly, Savannah shrieked and leaned over the side, jerking the skiff off course a notch. Zach's heart lodged in his chest as he yanked on the lines, anticipating disaster until he saw what she pointed at. A dolphin. Running alongside the boat, in turn diving beneath the waves and jumping high into the air.
    "Constable, look!" she exclaimed, releasing a burst of joyful laughter, the wind ripping her bonnet off her head. A mass of hair the distinct color of mahogany tumbled into her face and came damn close to slapping his. Zach pictured that silken heap spread across a pillow, his pillow, and his stomach sank to his knees.
    "Do you see him? A dolphin. How adorable."
    "Yeah," he croaked, shifting on the hard plank to get away from those beguiling strands. "Adorable, all right."
    "I think that's Lulu." Rory stuck his fingers in his mouth and executed a sharp whistle. The dolphin responded with a high-pitched squeal. "See? She's got a scar on her nose shaped jus' like a lightning bolt. Uncle Noah said it was probably from some fight with a killer fish. Like a shark. I've seen a shark up close, real close, when my pa caught it. We were fishing with sand fleas, which ain't the best bait, so he was hungry, I reckon."
    "Fascinating," she said, propping her arms on the side of the skiff to record Lulu's antics. Zach had a hard time looking away from them, hanging over the edge of the boat, their faces coated with a constant spray of water. Rory patted her on the shoulder at various intervals, relating information about the shape of Lulu's fins and how she breathed, things Noah must have told him. His information sounded a bit mixed up to Zach, not quite right. If she noticed, she