Megan's mate

She could only stare, an ache in her throat, tears in her eyes.

His mate's coming up.

Nathaniel's voice broke through her frozen wonder. Hurriedly she lifted the camera, snapping quickly as sea parted for whale.

They geysered from their spouts, causing the children to applaud madly. Megan was laughing as she hauled Jenny up for a better view and the three of them took impatient turns with the binoculars.

She pressed herself to the window as eagerly as the children while the boat cruised, following the glossy humps as they speared through the sea. Then the whales sounded, diving deep with a flap of their enormous tails. Below, people laughed and shouted as they were drenched with water.

Twice more the

Mariner

sought out and found pods, giving her passengers the show of a lifetime. Long after they turned and headed for home, Megan stayed at the window, hoping for one more glimpse.

Beautiful, aren't they?

She looked back at Nathaniel, eyes glowing.

Incredible. I had no idea. Photographs and movies don't quite do it.

Nothing quite like seeing and doing for yourself.

He cocked a brow.

Still steady?

With a laugh, she glanced down at her wrists.

Another minor miracle. I would never

have put stock in anything like this.

'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.'

A black-suited pirate quoting Hamlet.

So it seems,

she murmured.

There's The

Towers.

She smiled.

Off the port side.

You're learning, sugar.

He gave orders briskly and eased the

Mariner

into the calm

waters of the bay.

How long have you been sailing?

All my life. But I ran off and joined the merchant marine when I was eighteen.

Ran off?

She smiled again.

Looking for adventure.

For freedom.

He turned away then, to ease the boat into its slip as smoothly as a foot slides into an old, comfortable shoe.

She wondered why a boy of eighteen would have to search for freedom. And she thought of herself at that age, a child with a child. She'd cast her freedom away.

Now, more than nine years later, she could hardly regret it. Not when the price of her freedom had been a son.

Can we go down and get a drink?

Kevin rugged on his mother's hand.

We're all

thirsty.

Sure. I'll take you.

We can go by ourselves,

Alex said earnestly. He knew they were much too big to need an overseer.

I got money and everything. We just want to sit downstairs and watch everybody get off.

All right, then, but stay inside.

She watched them rush off.

They start spreading

their wings so soon.

Your boy's going to be flying back to you for a long time yet.

I hope so.

She cut herself off before she voiced the rest: He's all I have.

This

has been a terrific day for him. For me, too. Thanks.

My pleasure.

They were alone on the bridge now, the lines secured, the plank down and the passengers disembarking.

You'll come again.

I don't think I could keep Kevin away. I'd better go down with them.

They're fine.

He stepped closer, before she could evade.

You know, Meg, you

forget to be nervous when the kids are around.

I'm not nervous.

Jumpy as a fish on a line. It was a pure pleasure watching your face when we sighted whale. It's a pure pleasure anytime, but when you're laughing and the wind's in your hair, it could stop a man's heart.

He took another step and backed her up against the wheel. Maybe it wasn't fair, but he'd think about that later. It was going to take him a good long time to forget the way she'd felt, her back pressed against him, her hands soft and hesitant under his.

Of course, there's something to be said about the way you're looking right now. All eyes. You've got the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen. Then there's all that peaches-and-cream.

He lifted a finger to her cheek, skimmed it down. She felt as though she'd stepped on a live wire.

Makes a man crave a nice long taste.

I'm not susceptible to flattery.

She'd wanted to sound firm and dismissive, not breathless.

Just stating a fact.

He leaned down until his mouth was a whisper from hers.

If

you don't want me to kiss you, you'd better tell me not to.

She would have. Absolutely. If she'd been able to speak. But then his mouth was on hers, warm and firm and every bit as clever as his hands. She would tell herself later that her lips had parted with shock, to protest. But it was a lie.

They opened greedily, with a surge of hunger that went deep, that echoed on a groan that a woman might make who had her first sampling of rich cream after years of thin water.

Her body refused to go rigid in denial, instead humming like a harp string freshly plucked. Her hands dived into his hair and urged him to take the kiss deeper.

He'd expected a cool response, or at least a hesitant one. Perhaps he'd seen a flash of passion in her eyes, deep down, like the heat and rumble in the core of a volcano that seems dormant from the surface.

But nothing had prepared him for this blast of fire.