Falling for Jack (Falling In Love) - By Christina Carlisle Page 0,2

she opened it and rummaged through the clothes pulling out a pair of dark brown slacks, a lacy beige top and her favorite sneakers. While keeping a wary eye on the stairs leading to the deck, she hurriedly changed, grimacing as she placed the stained skirt into a plastic bag and packed it on top of the other clothes.

Glancing around, she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the sight of the tiny sink full of dirty dishes. A half eaten can of baked beans sat on the counter top along with a carton of milk and jar of coffee. A small stove was piled high with used saucepans and a heavy iron fry pan. What a mess. In one corner of the cabin was a long, narrow bunk covered with a shabby tartan blanket. Still, it wasn’t her business how this man lived and she had been unbelievably rude demanding he take her to the island. She would apologize profusely but she had been so desperate in case Mark had found her and tried to put a stop to her plans. Still, it didn’t excuse the way she had spoken to the tall, lanky sailor covered in grime.

Her lips twitched with amusement as she thought of Jack’s handprints on her skirt, a perfect outline of her bottom, and his hesitation in telling her what had happened. She giggled. Time to say sorry and explain that I’m not usually so nasty, she decided.

When she climbed onto the deck, the evening sun was still hot and she frowned as she realized she had left her protective hat in the cabin. Jack was at the wheel of the vessel maneuvering it through the various craft already moored for the night to come. Looking back, she could see the wharf and the outline of Port Margaret rapidly disappearing into the distance. The water was a little choppier now they had cleared the shelter of the harbor but she didn’t mind. The sun and the wind added to her euphoria of being free.

She made her way along the narrow deck toward Jack, intent on an apology for her behavior. Before she could speak, he thrust a package at her with one hand, while continuing to guide the boat with the other.

“Put that on.” His tone was commanding.

“What is it?”

“A life jacket.”

“I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.”

“Put it on. That’s an order. While I’m in charge of this boat, I’m in charge of your safety.”

He turned to face her and she was exposed to extraordinary blue eyes as she fully studied his face for the first time. She blinked at the impact. They were intense—the same deep, beautiful color of the sea. She focused on his high forehead, straight nose and angular cheekbones. His hair was dark and long, touching the nape of his neck and as for his bristly, black beard—well, he looked like a pirate of the high seas. He had washed his face and hands and changed into a sleeveless blue shirt, which the wind molded against his chest. His tanned arms and hands were muscular and strong as they lightly guided the wheel.

A blush like hot fire ran under her skin as he returned her stare. Confused at this unknown emotion, she looked at the bag she was holding.

“Do you know how to put it on?”

“No. But, why should I wear one? You’re not.”

“I’m used to Jezebel. You haven’t got your sea legs and could easily fall over board and become a tasty shark dinner.”

She shuddered and decided she couldn’t let that gem of information go unchallenged. “If a shark wants to eat me, it won’t care if I’m wearing a life jacket or not.”

He sighed. “Are you usually this argumentative?” he asked, turning to her again. Without waiting for a reply he said, “Look, I’ll put my jacket on if you do the same. Satisfied?”

Nodding, she unpacked the bag and pulled out the bright yellow jacket, placing it over her head. Puzzled, she studied the number of ties hanging from the jacket and tried to fasten them together.

“You’ve got it on back to front.” Jack laughed at her bewilderment. “Here, hold the wheel steady and I’ll sort it out for you.”

Lara stepped closer and tentatively grasped the steering wheel with one hand. He moved in front of her, turning the jacket around and lacing the ties through mysterious loops, all the time explaining what he was doing.

“There, now you’re okay,” he said, bending to tie a bow at