Against the Tide by Kat Martin Page A

hand in front of her face. “I can’t believe you waited this long to find out.”
    Liv sighed. “Unfortunately, it can’t go any further. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m still trying to get my life in order.” Which was true, since she had been moving around the country trying to stay alive for the past three years.
    Nell seemed to ponder that. “Maybe you’re right. Rafe’s not a good bet for the long haul.” She smiled. “On the other hand, if you could get your mind wrapped around it, a little fling might be something to consider.”
    Olivia laughed. “I don’t think I’m that brave.” But after last night, she’d begun to give the idea some thought. What could it hurt?
    Sally Henderson had survived, post Rafe . Why couldn’t Olivia Chandler?
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    A dull, leaden sky hung over the water. It had rained a couple of times that afternoon, but the squalls hadn’t lasted long. The weather had finally eased up, the ocean smoothed into great, flat, undulating sheets. Gulls screeched overhead, circling the boat in the hope of carrying off a few scraps of food.
    Rafe was nearing the end of a full-day charter. He had six fishermen aboard today, a group of four friends who’d flown up from Los Angeles, and two guys who were spending a few days in town, then driving back to Anchorage.
    They were an interesting pair; one Asian, a kid named Lee Wong, was maybe five ten, hard-muscled and athletic, kind of a young Jet Li. The other, Michael Nevin, was taller, dark-complexioned, thin-faced, with a trace of an accent Rafe couldn’t quite place.
    Both were in their midtwenties. Wong had explained that the two were former college roommates, getting together for a long-overdue reunion/vacation. Both were intelligent, but neither was much of a talker, nor particularly good at fishing.
    Rafe smiled at that. A lot of the younger guys were more into Facebook these days than fishing. But everyone had to start someplace. Today was their second day on the water. The men had fished with Mo aboard Sea Dragon a couple of days ago. But today one of the engines was giving Mo trouble, so Rafe had split the charter passengers between Sea Scorpion and Sea Dragon.
    The two men were getting a full-day charter for the price of a half day, though Rafe wasn’t sure they were all that pleased to get the extra hours for free. Aside from the discomfort of a little rain, which the group had dodged by taking a coffee break in the cabin, the fishing had been excellent.
    And on a trip like this, work for the passengers was minimal. Besides the captain, all Great Alaska charters included two crew members to take care of the fishermen’s needs. Zach and Jaimie baited their hooks, provided rods and rigging for different kinds of fishing, helped the men reel in and land their catches and gaff the bigger fish aboard.
    Being the low man on the crew, Jaimie handled the grunt work, the dirtiest job on the boat—cleaning the fishermen’s catch.
    The breeze freshened and a bait boil churned the water, beginning to attract the birds. Soon the gulls were dive-bombing the ocean, and black-and-white Dall’s porpoises broke the surface of the sea not far away.
    Earlier in the day, the men had been rigged for halibut, but the big fish hadn’t been biting. Zach and Jaimie had changed out their rods and reels, rigged the men for fishing rock cod, lingcod, and snapper, and the fish had been hitting like crazy.
    Once that happened, the passengers had begun to laugh and joke and enjoy themselves. Even the two greenhorns seemed to be having fun.
    Before he headed back to the harbor, Rafe planned to change locations, move the boat to a spot he favored, and try for barn-door halibut again. Even a smaller size would be welcome.
    He looked out over the bow, toward the snow-topped mountains across the water. As much as he was enjoying the day, he’d be glad when