Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“Hey,” I murmur, cupping her cheek, letting my thumb skim the soft curve just under her eye, “whatever you left, you’re safe now.”
Her lips part on a shaky breath. “You don’t even know who I am.”
“Maybe not,” I tell her, leaning in until our noses brush, “but I know how I feel when you look at me. And that’s a start.”
For a long moment, neither of us moves. The hum of the city and the thrum of our heartbeats fold into the quiet between us.
Then she leans forward, rests her head against my chest, and whispers, “I don’t know if I’m meant to stay.”
“Then stay for now,” I say, my hand finding the small of her back, warm through her blouse. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”
Her breath catches. Relief floods her azure eyes, and I know I’ve touched something fragile. Whatever she’s running from isn’t over. But for the first time, she doesn’t look like she’s about to bolt for the door.
I force myself to release her and retreat behind my desk before I offer to name a boat after her.
“So, you’ve spent a lot of time in the water?” I ask, my voice gruff.
“Yes… diving,” she says carefully, eyes on the floor. “Near the far coves. The trash isn’t awful unless it’s collecting deep. But there’s an odd algae bloom in a remote area. You might want to check it.”
“Show me.” I’m up again, ushering her toward the lab. If she has data—or even good instincts—I want it in front of my team.
Chapter 7
Everett
Engineering is a bright cave of stainless steel and whiteboards. People look up when we enter. Mutters ripple, followed by smiles. I introduce Ariel as the woman who saved my stubborn hide, and she’s instantly surrounded by warm curiosity and a volley of questions. To her credit, she doesn’t shrink. She listens, then points to a map and marks her “odd algae” spot with a neat fingernail. She suggests sample depths, asks whether our fluorometer is calibrated for freshwater pigments, then laughs shyly as if the question slipped out before she could measure it.
I watch my people fall a little in love with her, because how could they not?
“You know your stuff,” I say, impressed.
She hesitates. “I’ve always loved the water,” she says carefully. “Swimming, diving… anything to do with nature. I knew about ecosystems, currents, marine life from a young age. It’s a… passion of mine.”
“Is that what you were doing in the lake the day you saved me?”
“Yes. I love that place,” Ariel says wistfully. “I swim for peace. The world feels quieter underwater. Cleaner.” She turns to me, her lips curving into a breathtaking smile that steals my breath clean out of my lungs.
I’m riding that golden current when a shadow falls across the doorway. My father’s presence has its own weather system. It’s barometric.
“So,” he says, taking in the scene, his gaze landing on Ariel like a hawk considering a mouse, “this is the person who rescued you. Thank you.”
He pivots to leave. No handshake. No smile. Minimum gratitude.
“Dad, wait,” I say, stepping into his path. “Ariel’s found herself in a tight spot. I’m—”
He peels a crisp hundred from his wallet, presses it into Ariel’s palm like he’s tipping a valet, and turns on his heel.
My jaw tightens. Ariel blinks at the bill like it’s a strange leaf. Ricky appears at my elbow with impeccable timing.
“Ricky, would you walk Ariel back to my office?” I ask quietly, eyes on my father’s retreating back. “I need a minute.”
“Sure thing.” Ricky offers Ariel his arm in a gentlemanly gesture and steers her out.
I catch up with Dad in the hall and let him thunderstorm into his office first. He heads for the antique mahogany slab he calls a desk (midlife crisis, mahogany edition) and plants both hands on it.
“I don’t trust that girl,” he says, not bothering with pleasantries. “You can’t bring just anyone in here. What if she’s a corporate spy?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You still have ears everywhere, I see.”
“And why shouldn’t I when you’re parading a spy around our lab?” he snaps. “Why else would she watch you at the marina? How does she know so much about your equipment?”
“Because she has eyes and a brain? Because I took a swim in front of her?” My temper pricks as I sit in the chair opposite. “Ariel is not a spy. She knows the lake. She can point to exact spots, to currents and dead zones. If we want to help the waterways, she could be a useful addition as a consultant or a community liaison. She’s already spotted things we’ve missed.”
A calculating look flashes in my father’s eyes for a second before it’s erased. “Out of the question,” he says, flat and final. “I don’t want her wandering around my projects, asking awkward questions, and giving my contractors excuses to slow us down. She’ll be a liability.”