Surrender At Sea

Chapter One

Wow, I hate

tourists!

The Grand

Mariner spit its passengers out to spend money and waste the day in the

Florida sunshine. The port teemed with the pseudo wealthy, retired, and

middleclass, all seeking the perfect escape. Retirees in Bermuda shorts and

brightly colored polyester milled aimlessly as they waited for tour guides to

tell them what to do next. Honeymooners sighed and snuggled planning their day

in Miami, and intoxicated rich kids jeered at the “poor people” and staggered

to their waiting limos. Jessica Summers repressed the urged to tell them all to

get the fuck out of her way.

Irritated and

hot she wove her way through the congestion of bodies until she reached the

marina where the private yacht was scheduled to dock. Dodging the crowd in the

heat aggravated her already pissy mood. Her egocentric boss had insisted she

play nursemaid to some frickin’ big shot and the pompous ass didn’t have the

courtesy to be on time. Checking her watch once more, she settled against a

pillion with her arms and ankles crossed to wait.

Sweat ran in

a tiny rivulet down her spine and soaked her underwear. Her linen suit coat and

slacks, immaculately pressed when she’d left home, hung on her body in one

giant frumpy wrinkle. No one, especially a forty-year-old woman who knew

better, should have to wear a suit in ninety-eight degree weather, but she

couldn’t walk down the pier with her holster and hunting knife in plain sight. She’d

be arrested on the spot.

Three hours

later, the private yacht finally docked. Mr. The World is All About Me

stepped off the ship. Jess immediately wondered why in the hell he needed a

bodyguard unless it was to keep the women at bay. Dale McCloud oozed money and

charm as he turned to help a classy-looking, older lady down the gangplank. His

sun-bleached hair blew across his forehead in the wind, and the smile he

flashed the woman gleamed white and perfect in the afternoon sun. Everything

about him bespoke a life of wealth and luxury. The perfect poster child for

silver-spooners everywhere.

With a

resigned sigh, Jess headed toward the couple. She flashed her best smile at the

petite woman. “Hi, I’m Jessica Summers. Harold Donavan sent me.”

Turning to

the good looking playboy she had obviously been sent to protect, she repressed

a sarcastic remark as she extended her hand. “You must be Mr. McCloud.”

He accepted

the handshake, and her fingers disappeared in his large palm. Big hand—bigger

dick. Jess gave herself a mental kick and tried to focus on what the man

was saying.

“…call me

Sean.”

Shit, what’d

I miss?

“Excuse me? I was told you’re name is Dale. Was I misinformed?”

The woman

laughed. “I’m Dale McCloud, like Dale Evans. Sean is my son.”

“Oh.” Of

course the big guy didn’t need a bodyguard, at least not a female one. Though

if he weren’t her daughter’s age, she might volunteer to take the night shift. Shaking

off the misunderstanding, Jess smiled at the other woman. “I apologize, Mrs. McCloud.

I am apparently here to assist you these next two weeks.”

“My mother

doesn’t need a companion or an assistant. I hadn’t planned on coming along, but

since I’m here, your services won’t be needed. Thank you.”

Jess assessed

the arrogant man at a glance. He stood with his weight naturally shifted to his

left leg and a relaxed no one-crosses-me attitude. It wouldn’t take more than a

swift kick to bring the big guy to his knees. Add a shove and his ass would be

in the water. The image brought a smile to her face.

“I’m to

protect Mrs. McCloud, not entertain her. There have been some incidents

recently in the open waters where you’re headed. Mr. Donavan felt it would be

best if you had a professional on your boat who knows the area.”

Sean’s eyes wandered

from the top of her head, over her less than stellar attire, to settle on her

lightweight canvas shoes. Even Jess had to admit she didn’t look much like a

bodyguard. That was half of her strength. No one expected a five-foot-four,

hundred and twenty pound woman to pack a punch, let alone be an expert marksman

and knife handler. However, the lack of respect in McCloud’s eyes made her want

to demonstrate her skills.

“I really don’t

think Mom needs you.” His voice came out as a pompous sneer mixed with a

repressed laugh.

Jess started

to tell him to get fucked, but his mother interrupted.

“Now,

children. No need for bickering. Ms. Summers, was it?”

“Jess.”

The older

woman nodded and smiled. “Jess, then. I will look forward to having you with

us.” She turned to her son with a reassuring pat on his arm. “I asked for

Harold’s help. As much as I love having you with me, I don’t feel comfortable on

the open ocean without some sort of protection. “

“Mom, don’t

be ridiculous.”

With a soft

chuckle, his mother continued. “However, in the interest of peace, we’ll have

Jess join us for dinner this evening so you can get to know her.”

Jess laughed

as Sean’s snooty look wilted away. “Sounds great. Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure.

Harold said he’d pick us up. Somewhere fancy I’m sure. He likes that sort of

thing.”

Jess’s cell

vibrated, and a quick glance told her it was her boss. “Excuse me. This is Harold

now.”

“May I talk to

him?”

“Sure.” Jess

handed the phone to Dale and stepped away to give her some privacy. She didn’t

expect Sean to follow.

“Come with me.”

He grabbed her arm and hauled her down the dock toward the yacht. “We’ll be on

the boat, Mom.”

Jessica

gritted her teeth against the urge to knock him flat on his back. She went

along nicely until they reached the main cabin, out of his mother’s line of

view, then she jerked away. She remained silent, automatically assessing the

room for exits and weapons while she kept one eye on Sean.

He stepped

close in an obvious attempt to intimidate her. She shifted her focus to his

face. His eyes were the coolest color she had ever seen, grey, blue, green all at

once, sort of stormy water and grass combined. Fascinated by them, she almost

missed his command.

“Whatever

Harold is up to, tell him it won’t work.”

Jess could

have laid him out, but she wasn’t willing to give away the element of surprise

yet. She held her ground with a smile. The man stood no more than six feet and weighed

about a buck-eighty, but he appeared to be all lean muscle. The large hands she

had noticed earlier were perfect—neither too slender nor too broad—with fingers

designed to play either a piano or a woman with equal skill. Her hormones stood

up and did the happy dance. Maybe she should give the guy a chance. Her

daughter, Melanie, would love the look of him.

Which means

you need to get your head off his body and focus on why he’s so anxious to get

rid of you.

****

Sean waited without

comment on her silence. Bright, clear, green eyes sparkled behind killer dark

lashes. Full lips, devoid of artificial color, gave her an innocent look

despite the fact that she had to be almost ten years his senior. Her dark brown

ponytail, though limp in the afternoon humidity, revealed a slender neck made

for kissing. The petite beauty couldn’t pass as a babysitter let alone a

bodyguard. Whatever the hell Harold Donavan had planned wouldn’t work no matter

how many distractions he threw out.

She stared

him down then patted his arm and smiled. “Listen, Sean. I understand you’re a

big tough guy and protective of your mommy, but Harold sent me to do a job. Until

my boss says otherwise, I’ll be doing just that. Now go play in your room like

a good boy and leave the grown-up stuff to me.”

Smug little spitfire. Sean stepped

closer, forcing her back against the bar as he leaned down. Her eyes widened

and he couldn’t resist tracing the gentle curve of her cheek with a single

finger. Her lips parted in delicious welcome. Kissing her wasn’t a good idea,

but he thought about it as her subtle perfume drew him closer. She worked for a