"Excuse me?"
Jack Lucas grunted at the sound of a far off voice as he again twisted the stubborn bolt with his wrench.
"Hey, you. Excuse me."
The woman's voice was closer this time and he jerked his head, swearing as he hit the heavy mast above him.
"What!" he shouted. Who the hell was intruding on his peaceful afternoon, hindering his tinkering on his favorite old fishing boat? This time was sacrosanct. Everyone in the Bay knew that.
"I want to hire your boat," the soft, but demanding voice continued.
"She's not for hire and neither am I," Jack replied, picking up the wrench. He was going to loosen this bloody bolt if it took all day.
"I'll pay you whatever you want."
The woman was insistent, he'd give her that. Curiosity got the better of him and, cautiously avoiding the painful mast, he lifted his head to stare up at this annoying person standing on the quay side. Rather, his eyes were drawn to slender feet and ankles encased in impossibly high-heeled sandals.
Following the lines of her curvaceous legs and elegant thighs, Jack was treated to a glimpse of lacy cream panties before the sweep of a swirling blue skirt obscured his view. A tiny waist and rounded breasts pressing against a matching blue top were accentuated by the slender arms folded firmly in front of her.
Jack narrowed his eyes against the sun to stare into the heart-shaped face of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. To complete the vision, her porcelain skin was protected from the sun by a large, cream-colored hat.
He'd hardly recovered from the impact, which felt as if he had been punched very hard in the solar plexus, when she spoke again.
"Did you hear?" Her tone was imperious as she looked down her proud nose at him.
Rubbing an oil-streaked hand across his jaw and enjoying the feel of the rough bristles from his week-old beard, Jack decided his position on the deck of the boat several feet below her definitely placed him at a disadvantage. Who the hell did this woman think she was? She looked as if she had stepped from the pages of a top fashion magazine. That was it. She was some sort of model.
"I need to get to Seagull Island," she went on. "I've been told you will take me."
"Who told you?" Jack threw the wrench down with a clatter and, grasping the rope ladder hanging from the edge of the wharf, he pulled himself up so he was standing in front of her. This was interesting--very interesting.
"The taxi driver who brought me here from the Harcourt Hotel. He said you were the best sailor in Port Margaret."
"I'm a fisherman," Jack replied, cursing Joe Davis under his breath. What was he playing at dumping this model doll on him?
She was shorter than he'd thought, the top of her head not quite reaching his chin. But, boy! She was even more beautiful up close. Her complexion was flawless with only light make-up and a smear of lip gloss. Her huge eyes were a brilliant green, but as he peered more closely at her, she turned away, glancing worriedly behind her. Just what was this young woman up to? Escaping from a possessive boyfriend? Or husband? Something wasn't quite right. He glanced at the five matching suit cases surrounding her.
"I don't care what you are," she said. "I've asked that you take me. How much do you want?"
"Why do you want to go there?" Jack's curiosity was now very much aroused.
She glanced over her shoulder again before replying. "I've rented a holiday home on the island, and I'd like to get there before dark," she added, her voice rising slightly, whether from frustration or some sort of odd desperation, Jack wasn't sure.
Opening her handbag, she thrust a bundle of notes at him. "I'll pay you five hundred dollars if you'll take me. I'm sure someone like you won't refuse that."
Jack prided himself on being a pretty calm sort of guy but an unusual surge of anger flowed through him at the high-handedness of this young woman standing before him, her feet shifting restlessly on the stone pavers.
Reaching out a large, dirty hand, Jack took the money and stuffed it in his trouser pocket not bothering to count it. This lady definitely needed to be taught a lesson in good manners.
"Okay. I'll take you, Miss." He gave an exaggerated bow of his head and bent to pick up two of her cases. "Are all of these cases to go?"
"Yes."
"Have you got food with you?"
"No. I'll buy it there. I gather there's a shop on the island."
Jack nodded again. Swiftly, he loaded the cases on to the deck of the boat and then looked up at her. "Be careful climbing down with those shoes on," he said, watching her anxious expression as she turned and began a perilous descent to the deck. The rope ladder suddenly swung precariously and the girl gave a startled yelp as her knuckles grazed against the rough stone wall.
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