Found at Sea - By Anne Marie Duquette Page 0,3

a long, emerald-colored sarong that set off her rich, golden hair. It reached to her waist, and he wished he could reach out to touch it—touch her. The plaster cast on one arm and the IV board strapped to the other prevented it.

Chairs were impractical in an oceanic vessel’s sick bay, so the woman stood quietly beside his bed, legs spread apart to brace against the ship’s gentle pitching.

“Do you remember your name?” she asked.

He nodded, moving his head carefully this time, although his gaze never left her, not even for a second.

“Good.” The woman came a bit closer, her hair swinging. “I want you to tell me your name, age, birthday and what day it is. Doctor’s orders,” she said before he could protest against wasting his breath with such stupid questions. “Do you think you’re up to it?”

Actually, Jordan wasn’t sure. He ached all over, and his head felt as if a flock of raucous seagulls were trying to peck their way from the inside out. Still, for another of her brilliant smiles, Jordan would walk on hot coals. He forced his eyes to stay open. He had to see her.

“Jordan Castillo.” His voice was as maddeningly feeble as the rest of his body, and he tried for more volume. “I’m thirty-five—born February 14.”

“An Aquarius, I see. And born on Valentine’s Day.” She smiled again, warming his blood. “And the last date you remember?”

He hesitated, something he almost never did. “I know it’s June. June the...” He frowned, unable to pinpoint the date. The invisible seagulls pecked inside his skull, and he gasped.

“That’s enough,” she said quickly. “Don’t force it.”

“What...” He meant to ask what her name was, but she finished the sentence for him.

“Day is it? June 27. You’ve been here three days. In addition to a broken arm and broken ribs, you had a very nasty skull fracture. And—” she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder “—I’m afraid that you’re now missing your spleen.”

Jordan blinked. No wonder he hurt. “I had surgery?”

“You were bleeding to death. The doctor had no choice. We almost lost you. You were lucky the ship’s doctor is also a skilled surgeon.” A beat, then “Do you know where you are?”

“I’m at sea.” He sniffed the salty air, almost as heavenly as her enticingly female scent. His seaman’s nose told him his location. “Still in California waters, I’d guess.”

She nodded. “Correct on both counts, Mr. Castillo. You’re aboard a cruise ship. Lucky for you, the captain’s a good friend of mine. The doctor said you’re ready to be moved to a land hospital. Right now, we’re about fifty miles west of San Diego.”

Jordan gave a slight nod. In spite of his physical and mental disorientation, he’d been right. What was that old saying of his father’s?

You can take a Castillo out of the ocean, but you can’t take the ocean out of a Castillo. Don’t you forget it. It’s in your head, your heart, your very blood.

She was asking him something. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Oh, yeah. Three men. They threw me off the pier.”

The woman nodded.

“And you rescued me.”

“Yes.”

“And then...” His eyes narrowed.

“Then?” she prompted.

“I think I blacked out.” Fatigued, he felt his eyelids drift closed. Abruptly he opened them, unwilling to see her leave. “Are you Ms. Collins?”

She tilted her head, hair glistening at the motion. “Yep. Ordinarily I don’t like being stood up, but in this case, you had a good excuse.”

“We were supposed to meet...at the pier and talk business. You’re a salvager, too.”

“Treasure hunter, if you will.” Her eyes twinkled. “Of course, I’ve never pulled anything quite like you from the deep before.”

Jordan tried to smile, but couldn’t. The pain hit him again in nauseating waves, along with an overpowering weakness. He didn’t think he could stay awake much longer, but he had questions he desperately wanted answered.

“Your name,” he demanded, pain lending his voice a sharp edge. “Tell me your full name.”

“It’s Aurora Borealis Collins. Do excuse my typically Californian parents and their so-called creativity. They’re accountants now, but they were hippies in their younger days. I usually go by Rory.”

“Rory...” He liked Aurora better.

His eyes started to close despite his best efforts. “I didn’t think the ocean really had mermaids. Or guardian angels.” He sensed rather than saw her amusement.

“No one I know has ever called me angelic.”

The amusement faded when his eyelids fluttered closed. I will not pass out.

“Don’t try to talk any more, Mr. Castillo. The helicopter will be here