Samhain Publishing Ltd, Ebooks and Books in Print

Cairns, Australia

“Ten seconds to drop zone.” The pilot gave Ethan the thumbs-up sign.

Already in position, he readied himself for the dive. He ignored the knots in his stomach that never ceased to develop right before a jump.

Wind blew the helicopter he sat in, while below the aircraft, waves crashed violently. They’d been damn lucky they’d already been en route when the storm got ugly. The night was expected to get worse.

“Three, two, one.” The pilot cued him.

Oh yeah… Bring it on.

On mark, Ethan hit the water and headed toward the smoldering cruiser. Swimming as if his life hung in the balance, he cut his way through the volatile ocean. Even with fourteen years of experience in search and rescue, reaching the boat was no easy task.

A lift dropped down to the water once he was clear.

Once there, he located a couple clinging for their lives to the hull of the boat. “Just the two of you?” Though a distress signal had been sent out, it was unclear how many people were onboard. A fire and a storm. What a shitty night for them.

“Oh Christ. We didn’t th—ink anyone heard our call…” A wave swept over them, cutting the man off.

Ethan had to fight his way back to the clinging pair. “Anyone else here?” he called over the roar of the wind.

The woman’s teeth chattered. “No.” Dark hair shielded her face.

The adrenaline pumping through him sent him into action. From the look of the couple, hypothermia was a real danger. And his job wasn’t done until his arse was back in his seat.

Ethan focused. One thing at a time. “I’ll get you both into the chopper.” He struggled to pull the lift he’d been dragging over.

The man crowded him. “Oh Christ, let me in.”

“Sheilas first.” Ethan did his best to urge the man back to the sinking cruiser. In scenes like this, women and children always took first priority unless there was an injured party. Though wet, the pair didn’t appear wounded. In more dire scenes, he took the first person he came to.

Panicked, the bloke clawed at his arm.

“Back off, mate!” Ethan jerked away. “I’ll knock your arse out if need be!” Too damn easy for a bloke to drown a rescuer out here. The possibility of death could send the biggest of men into a frenzy of fear. Later, the bloke more than likely wouldn’t remember his actions.

With the storm blowing over, they were on a time clock. And you could never trust the sharks not to get hungry and come up and take a bite out of someone’s arse.

He reached out his hand to the drenched woman. Once she let go of the boat’s railing, he had trouble keeping a grasp on her. The water fought against them.

Going under the water, the sheila cried out as she surfaced. She was of little help, yet he managed to reel her in. The churning water stole some valuable minutes as he worked to get her settled and strapped in. “Hang on. The team will do the rest,” he reassured her, though he couldn’t tell if she heard him over the gusting noise of the hovering aircraft.

Away she went. The lift swayed as it drifted upward.

While she was being hoisted into the chopper, he stayed close to the bloke. Twice, Mother Nature sent them hurtling into the hull of the boat.

When the basket hit the water, he collected it before returning to the clinging man. “You’re up.” Within minutes, the guy was on his way to safety.

The storm turned vicious as Ethan took his turn in the lift. His teeth clenched until he climbed inside, out of the wind and downpour.

Warm air circulated in the cabin as a dim light illuminated the space.

He’d no sooner climbed into his spot when the man got his attention. “Thanks, mate.” The bloke huddled under blankets.

Ethan nodded.

The woman’s quaking caused him to turn his head to where she lay stretched out. The medic of their team had given her blankets, which covered her from neck to foot. They’d warm her up.

Her face was framed by sopping dark hair as she turned his way.

He sucked in a breath as their gazes caught. Huge, green, cat-like eyes stared, refusing to blink.

Oh, bugger me.

Ethan was first to glance away.

Oh, bugger me.

Rarely did he remember a face of someone he rescued. Never kept a tally of those he pulled from the water, of those lives he saved. No, he only remembered those few he’d lost. Those were the ones who haunted his nights.

Only those he lost.

But he’d remember this night. He’d remember her forever. She’d come into his life like a riptide. One he hadn’t wanted to escape.

The woman who’d been playing a role in his fantasies for some time now lay within his reach. He’d just pulled Denae Button from the bloody pond.

A groan rumbled through his dry lips. Denae had been the reason behind the ruin of his perfect life—at least, as he’d once known it to be.

Live hard, play harder and die fast.

That’d once been his motto.

His days of partying were long gone. He’d no one to blame but his own bloody dumb arse.

With his hand, he scrubbed the water away from his face.

A heavy weight of tension worked its way into his neck and shoulders. Soon the muscles ached from far more than the seeping cold.

Eyes closed to shut out the past, he curled his hands into fists. Heat knotted in his chest.

Oh, bugger me.

I owe De an apology. Had owed her one for a long time now. He owed a lot of people apologies.

He supposed Denae would be a good place to start. He didn’t believe he had the balls or the stomach to approach the others he’d hurt. His mum. His brother.

Oh, fuck. No way could he approach his brother. Not once in his life had he measured up to his big brother. Upon learning who De had belonged to…

A struggle inside the cabin drew his attention. Denae fought to rip the oxygen mask from her face. Sobs racked her frame.

He scrambled over to her side.

“She’s fighting me.” The medic attempted to still her hands.

“I know her.” He urged his teammate aside. “Easy, De. We’ll have you to a hospital in no time.” He stroked her hair back from her forehead. He put the mask back into place.

For only a heartbeat, accusing eyes met his. Only a heartbeat, then she turned her head away to cry.

The knots twisting his stomach could no longer be ignored. So many apologies to give to others.

Christ, I need my arse kicked.