I'Ve Got You
Authors: Louise Forster
I've Got You
Louise Forster
I've Got You
Louise Forster
She's at risk of drowning in more ways than oneâand he's the last person she expects to pull her out of the water.
Belle Fabrini is sailing through the Whitsunday Islands to see her grandfather, when she's caught in a freakish storm. Luckily, Kabe Hunter finds her and hoists her on board his yacht just before a huge wave threatens to end her life.
Belle hasn't seen Kabe since high school, a time she spent crushing on Kabe in a big way. Now he's sitting across from her in a tiny cabin wearing nothing but a towel. But Kabe has a reputation for loving and leaving gorgeous tourists, and Belle doesn't need any more complications in her life.
Kabe, however, has other plans. Belle has always been different, and it seems like only he can see through her happy-go-lucky façade to the pain behind. Belle is drowning in her secrets, but Kabe has no intention of losing her, now that he's finally found her again.
Louise Forster grew up in a Victorian country town. She ran barefoot along dirt roads and loved looking through the leaves of tall eucalypts at the azure summer skies. Eventually, she grew up, and the country town became a suburb of Melbourne. Running barefoot to catch her train to work would have caused more than a few raised eyebrows so she opted for stilettos, of course. At eighteen, Louise travelled through Europe, parts of Africa and the Pacific Islands. These days Louise lives on the far north coast of New South Wales, with her husband (whom she met at sixteen), on a small property that includes her extended family, three dogs, three cats and all manner of wildlife.
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Thank you to Kate Cuthbert, Escape publishing editor, for ongoing support and patience. To the Harlequin team for their hard work; I don't know all the intricacies, I just know there must be many.
Thank you to my editor Linda Nix for understanding that there are problems working with a dyslexic dreamer, and that, with her help, they can and will be overcome.
Thanks to Romance Writers Australia for their wonderful work supporting newbies and published writers with everything a writer needs to know. To Australian Romance Readers Association for connecting writers and readers. To Australian Rural Romance and their new project promoting romance country wide.
To lovers of romance, thank you for reading my stories.
To my family, because you're brilliant.
Contents
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishingâ¦
Kabe Hunter smiled as he studied the ominous black storm clouds billowing and growing as they sucked moisture from the ocean. Moving in from the north-eastâfastâthe storm whipped up whitecaps and thwacked the sails. A sudden, heavy gust hit the yacht, making it heel at a precarious angle. Kabe knew it was just the beginning.
Exhilarated, Kabe grinned, and yelled at the building thunderheads, âBring it on!' He didn't care that his solo sailing trip around the Whitsunday Islands to find new areas of interest for his tourist pleasure trips was interrupted. This challenge would test his sailing skills, and he relished every moment.
Kabe slipped into a life jacket and reached for the short-wave radio transmitter while keeping an eye on the rigging and compass. â
The Ondine
calling ⦠need weather report ⦠Over.' Kabe waited; nothing but static crackled through. He repeated the message and heard a faint answer.
âTake shelter, it looks like a bad one, heading â¦' the distant voice broke up. âKeep an eye out for a sloop ⦠trouble, twenty nautical miles south-west ⦠off Airlie Beach.' More snippets of information came through, but Kabe still couldn't make out either the exact location or the name of the sloop.
âDamn,' he muttered, âwhat other idiots are out here besides me.' Up for the challenge, Kabe rolled his shoulders, stretched the kinks and tension out of his muscles and readied himself for a difficult search. He gripped the helm and planted his bare feet apart for balance. Tacking starboard, he ducked as the boom swung around. The white sails thwacked in the rising wind and billowed out taut and trim and in brilliant relief against the blue-black clouds. He relished the sense of freedom as his yacht's bow sliced through the deep, blue Coral Sea, leaving a white, frothy wake behind.
Light rain began to fall and the wind picked up. He braced himself as a heavy swell loomed then hit the yacht broadside, thundering against the hull. It crashed over the deck spraying salty foam over his life vest and bare chest, then ran in rivulets down his body, soaking his shorts. Kabe whipped his head to one side, driving the excess water from his hair and face. He headed towards the last known position of the stricken sloop and hoped its crew members were holding it together. The nearest safe haven was Butterfly Island. Its narrow inlet led to a small bay, which would be a perfect place to shelter from the storm. He'd bloody better find the sloop before all hell broke loose and darkness made finding it even more difficult.
A tiny flash caught his eye. Squinting against the wind-driven rain, Kabe focused on the area. Did he see something just then? Or was the ocean playing tricks?
He wiped the salt water from his face and peered past the bow at the sea ahead churning with white caps; searching, he watched and waited.
âIs that a light? Yesânoâmaybe,' he muttered.
It was a difficult task with squalls buffeting the yacht. Then he saw it, a faint yellow glow blinking in his line of sight before disappearing as a swell hid what he hoped was the missing sloop.
A bright red flare shot into the sky.
âFound you.' He shook his head, amazed. âYou lucky bastards!' Keeping the point of light in his sight, he headed straight for the stricken boat.
He knew this was going to be tricky with heavy swells hitting both yachts. Kabe lowered and lashed the mainsail then hurried back to the cockpit to start the engine. Keeping an eye on distance and swells, he saw a light that someone was waving in a wide arc. Timing was of the essence: to overshoot the other boat now would be disastrous. He gripped the throttle and waited for the right moment to reduce his speed. Wind gusts lashed at sail-ties, whistled through the safety lines and chilled Kabe's wet skin. The disabled smaller boat bobbed like a cork in a washing machine. Now and again, he could hear a voice shouting before the wind snatched it away.
But he did manage to make out the unfortunate sailor's gender.
âA woman!'
* * *
âHelp, over here!' Belle shouted until her throat hurt, but the high winds threw her calls straight back at her; it was futile, yet she couldn't stop herself. She could die out here.
She squinted through the rain that lashed her face and whipped hair into her eyes. To her relief the approaching yacht cut through the mounting waves towards her at a steady speed.
âHow did I get myself into this mess?' she yelled at the heavens. âBecause everyone's worried about Popâthat's why! And he's going to kill me when he finds out!'
She checked her gear, making sure her vest was tight and waterproof camera backpack secure, then turned her troubled eyes back to the oncoming rescuer.
The yacht slowed, easing up to come unsteadily alongside hers. Belle's smaller boat bounced off the larger yacht's hull with a scary hollow-sounding boom. Panic twisted inside her. She peered up at the large yacht for a sign of anyone on board. A man's shape appeared out of the gloom, and Belle sighed with relief.
âCatch!' his deep baritone voice roared, as a rope flew towards Belle. She caught its rough end and scrambled to tie it to the bow of her sloop. âGet on board before you put a hole in the side and we both drown,' he roared again.
Belle turned in time to see a rope ladder appear over the side of his yacht's hull. She glanced over her shoulder towards the horizon in a futile hope that this weather was just a passing galeâwhat horizon? The sky and sea were as one, a dark blue-black, with an occasional flash of forked lightning.
âHey! Hey you up there!' she yelled, salt spray stinging her eyes.
He leant over and all she could see was his shadowed face. âWhat?' he hollered.
Pushing the crazy pirate and ghost ship thoughts aside, she yelled, âYou have to tow my boat, I'm not leaving it!'
âNot a chanceâtoo rough!' He disappeared and his yacht's engine roared.
Belle stared in horror. âThe son of a ⦠He's going to take off without me.' She struggled against the heaving deck and lunged for the ladder just as her rescuer hung over the side above her. As they came face to face, she couldn't help but notice the exhilaration in his dark-blue eyes. Oh God, she knew that look. She knew him well enough to know he was enjoying sailing through the storm and meeting its challenges head on.
Belle stared, taking a split-second to scan his unshaven face. Water dripped off his strong nose and a curly mop of wet, sun-bleached hair clung to his brow. A broad smile crinkled his eyes and caused a roguish dimple to emerge. A row of white teeth beamed at her, radiant in the strange eerie light of the storm. The image of a pirate lunging for his booty flashed through her mind. All that was missing were hoop earrings and a parrot.
The sailor's broad shoulders and strong arms reached for her. Belle let go of the ladder, a reflex reaction; was she really going to leap into his arms?
His smile disappeared. âDamn it, woman! Do you want my help or not?' he roared. âTrust me, you won't like it if I have to come and get you!'
âNo ⦠Yes!
What?!
Oh bugger.' Without warning, her boat lurched sideways; she lost her grip, fell onto the cockpit locker and cried out in pain. She gulped air into her strained lungs, and swiped at strands of wet hair that clung to her face. She turned to see the sailor lean further over the side, one hand gripping a stanchion while the other reached out to her. Belle clambered on all fours and lunged forward to grab the boarding ladder. She turned for a last quick scan of her father's antique timber sloop, praying the hatch would stay watertight and the sea anchor would keep it stable in the heavy swell.
A spine-chilling sight filled her with dread. Barely metres away a huge swell loomed. Belle froze, and in those few seconds, it was as if time stood still. A dark-blue wall of water, as tall as a house, was about to crash over both boats. Horrified, Belle's jaw dropped and her throat clamped shut on a scream.
The sailor thumped the side of his yacht. âFor fuck's sake, woman!'
Quickly, Belle came to her senses and turned her back on the roaring sea. With trembling hands, she grabbed hold of the ladder, before fear immobilised her again. âHelp,' she squeaked.
Powerful fingers clamped around her forearms. She looked up to meet his face set with fierce determination. Muscles bunched in his neck, broad shoulders and arms. A split-second later, the thunderous force of water crashed down over them. It filled Bell's mouth, choking off her scream as it tried to suck her out of her rescuer's grip. His hands slipped, then tightened like a vice around her wrists.
âI've got you!' he shouted. âHold on!'
The ties holding the boats together strained to snapping point. Her father's sloop plunged. The deck disappeared from beneath her feet. Spluttering, she hung suspended like a helpless rag doll over the boiling black sea.