Seduced by the Sea Lord

Chapter 3

One moment, Lucy was leaving the galley to investigate a noise in the guest bunk, and the next moment, she was deliciously crushed by the most virile wall of masculinity ever to wash up on her trawler.

Torun tasted like sea salt and heat. His powerful biceps clenched with strength before lifting her as though she weighed no more than a twig.

This was crazy.

She tore her mouth free. "What are you doing?"

"Claiming you." His aquamarine eyes glowed with ferocious possession. He repeated in a deep tone that sent pleased shivers up her spine, "You are mine."

His? She was his?

A hard, gorgeous warrior took one look at her, Lucy, and was so swept away by passion that he had to have her this instant?

He consumed her hesitation once more with his kiss.

His embrace was passionate and demanding. Waves of heat welled up in her cold, empty body like an unstoppable ocean tide.

This, finally, was what she had needed for so, so long.

And yet, he was gentle.

His iron forearm pillowed her head, and his huge hand clasped her hip, pressing her securely to the narrow bunk. All his weight balanced on his elbow, sheltering her, and that wasn't easy to do. She'd had her share of uncomfortable bunk encounters over the years.

But he was also fierce.

He was claiming her. Right now.

And she...

She was going to let him.

On cue, the engine shuddered and began to squeal.

Low oil.

She jerked back.

Her warrior stared down at her with powerful intensity. "Do not withdraw from our joining."

"No, I love it."

He lowered his head to continue.

She put her hand on his mouth. "Stay right here."

"But—"

Another shriek sent a shudder through the hull.

"Don't move." She bolted from the bunk. "I'll be right back."

"Lucy!"

She raced through the tiny galley and splashed into the waterlogged engine room.

Her old dive shop boss had called this trawler—once a gorgeous Selene 43, now a salvage with Missy B on its patched hull—an opportunity. It had some character, like a slow oil leak.

Of course, speed was relative.

She ripped the seal from another carton of her bulk Costco oil purchase and poured the whole quart into its well. Glug, glug, glug. The engine smoothed from that of an unbalanced washing machine to a rough growl.

Crisis momentarily delayed.

Seawater seeped into the hold from an actual hull leak. Which, by the way, was not character or opportunity. It was a full, actual ocean emergency. She ought to have returned to Cancun the instant she'd discovered it, but how would she and Mel afford another tank of fuel?

Please just work a little bit longer. There's a real opportunity in the guest bunk, waiting for me.

But she had to check the bailing capacity of the backup generator. If it failed, she'd end up on the bottom of the sea. Lucy sucked in her gut and squeezed around the tight corner.