The Mercenary by Cherry Adair Read Free Book Online

side of the boat,
    mostly because he wanted to join her. The waves crashed into the side of the forty-foot hunk of wood
    until he was sure they’d have to swim the next hundred miles. She retched again, and his gut knotted in
    sympathy. Salt spray shot twenty feet in the air, soaking everything in sight, including her. He’d tried to
    keep her down in the relative warmth of the cabin, but the smell of fish had been so overpowering, even
    he hadn’t been able to stomach it.
    Tory dry-heaved over the side. Her stomach hurt, her arm throbbed, and she hated Marc Savin more
    with each passing moment. The man was relentless. He couldn’t say she hadn’t warned him.
    “This really gives you a thrill, doesn’t it, you bastard?” At the rough sound of Marc’s voice, Tory raised
    her head weakly from the railing to glare at him. In case he hadn’t noticed, she wasnot having a thrill a
    minute. But he wasn’t talking to her. He was smiling that hateful smile and talking to the fisherman who
    was steering this death trap out to the open sea. Her head flopped back as her stomach heaved again
    and she groaned.
    She was never stepping foot on anything smaller than a cruise ship ever again, she thought just before her
    stomach muscles cramped.
    “Certo!”Angelo exclaimed with gusto, the muscles in his massive arms bulging with the strain of
    controlling the wheel. “Look at those waves, my friend. It makes us remember who is boss, no?”
    Tory glanced up at the dark sky instead of at the mountainous waves beating the hull of the boat. A
    bright moon shone down, illuminating the glistening deck. To the east a thick bank of clouds moved
    swiftly toward them.
    “It makes me think you’ve used this damn cover too long,” Marc told the other man.
    For all he knew
    she’d fallen overboard hours ago, she thought crossly. “Time you got back in the field, my friend. You’re
    having just too damned much fun—I’d hate to see a trained T-FLAC operative lost to the sea. How
    soon till we get there?”
    Angelo looked down at the waterproof watch on his massive wrist. “Give or take, 0500.
    The storm will
    cover you, but you’re going to have to swim the last couple of hundred feet to the beach.
    You sure she’ll
    make it?”
    Shewasn’t sure she’d make it, Tory thought, holding tightly to the railing as Marc walked toward her, his
    body and long legs adjusting to the rocking of the deck.
    “She’ll make it if I make it,” he said grimly, checking the plastic bag he’d wrapped around her cast to be
    sure it was still watertight. He handed her the canteen and told her to rinse her mouth out.
    Gulping the water, Victoria shot him a furious look when he took it away and handed her a stick of gum.
    “I don’t chew gum,” she said primly. “It isn’t ladylike.”
    “Neither is puking your guts out.” Marc unwrapped a piece and stuck it in her mouth.
    “Chew.”
    She glared at him from bleary eyes. “Remind me never to agree to go anywhere with you.” Her jaw
    worked the gum. The flavor of mint bursting on her tongue was a blessing.
    Marc suppressed a grin. “Another invitation isn’t likely to come up. Can you make it for about forty
    more minutes?”
    “What’s the alternative?”
    He pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes and laughed. “You could always swim.”
    “How far is it?” She looked serious. He supposed that now wasn’t the time to let her know that she
    would be getting her wish. An enormous wave broke against the side and she let out a little shriek as
    hundreds of gallons of water crashed over them. Marc held on to the rail and pulled her against his chest
    as the wave foamed at their feet.
    The wind whipped her hair into his face. It smelled of baby shampoo. “That was close.” Burying his nose
    in the wet, fragrant mass he tightened his arms around her narrow waist.
    Her voice, muffled by his yellow slicker, vibrated against his chest. “I don’t even like this kind of
    adventure in a