the twin glove compartments in front of her as the Lady Jane went even faster, sending plumes of sea spray rising, dousing the cockpit, getting Lili right in the face, plastering her hair to her cheeks, down her back.
She laughed. The salty water felt good, cool and bracing.
Faster. And faster still. Alex let the powerful engine all the way out. They had to be going the full forty-five knots by then. Lili held on tight and dared to turn her head to look astern.
“It’s still there, still after us!” she shouted.
Alex said nothing. His drenched hood had blown back. Water droplets gleamed like jewels in his close-cropped hair and in the light from the instrument panel his wet face was set, determined—and also somehow gleeful. He was having a very good time.
And suddenly, she was glad. Gloriously, deliriously glad. For the first time since that morning in April when he’d carried her to his bed, he was fully present, fully engaged.
Truly alive.
It was something.
It was everything.
It was...a start. At long last.
“Don’t let go of that bar,” he commanded. “Promise me.”
“I promise.” She laughed out loud.
And he turned the wheel to port, veering away from their original course. The sea spray rose up and broke over her again.
She held on, tight and sure, as she had promised him, as he led the boat that followed them on a merry chase, turning this way and then that way, the powerful engine roaring, the spray like high, white wings to either side of them. It was wonderful, thrilling. Wet and fierce and very fast. Lili loved every splendid, scary, heart-pounding, breath-stealing second of it.
She had no idea how long that wild ride lasted. But at some point she became aware that they were slowing. She glanced over at Alex.
He sent her a confident glance. “We lost them.”
They slowed even more, the engine winding down to a low purr. And then Alex shut it off. The silence was endless. He flipped a switch that doused all their lights.
Right then, she realized that the slight wind was no more. There was not even a hint of a breeze. Now the air had weight. And it was so dark. Before, there had been the stars and the thin waxing moon. But now there was only gun-barrel gray overhead. Heavy clouds had gathered. Even the water lay flat, unmoving, a dark and solid-seeming surface all around them, denser and deeper than the grayness above. Lili’s pulse, which had slowed right along with the Lady Jane , picked up speed again. She had the strangest sensation that something cataclysmic was about to happen.
Shake it off . She swiped her dripping hair back off her forehead, stood and turned in a circle. Horizon to horizon, not a glimmer of light or movement.
Alex said softly, “Nothing.”
She turned to him slowly, as in a dream. His eyes were waiting for her. They were fathoms deep. She said, “It’s eerie.”
And then the underbelly of the clouds lit up. A fork of white fire split the dark.
Alex said, “Lightning.”
Over the endless water, thunder rolled.
“What is it, Alex?” she asked.
The radio crackled. She heard the voice of one of Alex’s men trying to raise them. He took the mouthpiece, spoke into it. Waited. Tried again.
But there was nothing. He couldn’t raise a sound.
More lightning and thunder. The dark sky was suddenly alive with it. And now the wind was blowing, a fierce and swirling wind, seeming to come at them from all four directions.
“Alex. What...”
“Nevera,” he said.
“What?”
“Thermal storms. The Adriatic gets them sometimes in the summer. They can be fierce. Dangerous to a small boat.” He took the helm again. “If you won’t go below, brace yourself.”
She took her seat, grabbed the rail.
The wind blew harder, tearing at her. The rain increased. It came down fast and mercilessly, in giant, angry drops, pounding her. The lightning flared—over and over, sometimes so close she feared it would strike them. A never-ending roll of thunder boomed in
She laughed. The salty water felt good, cool and bracing.
Faster. And faster still. Alex let the powerful engine all the way out. They had to be going the full forty-five knots by then. Lili held on tight and dared to turn her head to look astern.
“It’s still there, still after us!” she shouted.
Alex said nothing. His drenched hood had blown back. Water droplets gleamed like jewels in his close-cropped hair and in the light from the instrument panel his wet face was set, determined—and also somehow gleeful. He was having a very good time.
And suddenly, she was glad. Gloriously, deliriously glad. For the first time since that morning in April when he’d carried her to his bed, he was fully present, fully engaged.
Truly alive.
It was something.
It was everything.
It was...a start. At long last.
“Don’t let go of that bar,” he commanded. “Promise me.”
“I promise.” She laughed out loud.
And he turned the wheel to port, veering away from their original course. The sea spray rose up and broke over her again.
She held on, tight and sure, as she had promised him, as he led the boat that followed them on a merry chase, turning this way and then that way, the powerful engine roaring, the spray like high, white wings to either side of them. It was wonderful, thrilling. Wet and fierce and very fast. Lili loved every splendid, scary, heart-pounding, breath-stealing second of it.
She had no idea how long that wild ride lasted. But at some point she became aware that they were slowing. She glanced over at Alex.
He sent her a confident glance. “We lost them.”
They slowed even more, the engine winding down to a low purr. And then Alex shut it off. The silence was endless. He flipped a switch that doused all their lights.
Right then, she realized that the slight wind was no more. There was not even a hint of a breeze. Now the air had weight. And it was so dark. Before, there had been the stars and the thin waxing moon. But now there was only gun-barrel gray overhead. Heavy clouds had gathered. Even the water lay flat, unmoving, a dark and solid-seeming surface all around them, denser and deeper than the grayness above. Lili’s pulse, which had slowed right along with the Lady Jane , picked up speed again. She had the strangest sensation that something cataclysmic was about to happen.
Shake it off . She swiped her dripping hair back off her forehead, stood and turned in a circle. Horizon to horizon, not a glimmer of light or movement.
Alex said softly, “Nothing.”
She turned to him slowly, as in a dream. His eyes were waiting for her. They were fathoms deep. She said, “It’s eerie.”
And then the underbelly of the clouds lit up. A fork of white fire split the dark.
Alex said, “Lightning.”
Over the endless water, thunder rolled.
“What is it, Alex?” she asked.
The radio crackled. She heard the voice of one of Alex’s men trying to raise them. He took the mouthpiece, spoke into it. Waited. Tried again.
But there was nothing. He couldn’t raise a sound.
More lightning and thunder. The dark sky was suddenly alive with it. And now the wind was blowing, a fierce and swirling wind, seeming to come at them from all four directions.
“Alex. What...”
“Nevera,” he said.
“What?”
“Thermal storms. The Adriatic gets them sometimes in the summer. They can be fierce. Dangerous to a small boat.” He took the helm again. “If you won’t go below, brace yourself.”
She took her seat, grabbed the rail.
The wind blew harder, tearing at her. The rain increased. It came down fast and mercilessly, in giant, angry drops, pounding her. The lightning flared—over and over, sometimes so close she feared it would strike them. A never-ending roll of thunder boomed in
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