The Man Must Marry(22)

"Come about, Willa. I want to come aboard."

"Sam?" she squeaked in surprise, only to forget to key the mike. She pushed the button. "Sam?"

"Stop the boat, Willa."

She shaded her eyes with her hand, scowling at the helicopter keeping   pace beside her. "Sam, you can't land here. The mast is in the way."                       
       
           



       

"Just stop, and I'll jump in and swim to you."

"Are you nuts? No-go away."

"I'm coming aboard, Willa."

"You jump, and it's a long swim home. I am not letting you onboard this boat."

"The RoseWind isn't set up for solo sailing."

"She is now. Go away, Sam. I don't want to talk to you, your brothers,   or anyone else for the next five days. When I get home, I'll call to let   you know I made it okay."

"And if you don't make it okay?"

"Then you and your brothers become very wealthy men. I can't do anything   about the Tidewater shares, though. Sorry, but you'll have to blame   Abram for that one."

"Stop the boat, Willa."

"No can do, Sinclair. And you're going to run out of fuel before I run out of wind. So go away."

Willa set down the mike, grabbed hold of the wheel with both hands, and   stared straight ahead, pointedly ignoring the lunatic. Or she tried to,   until the chopper got close enough to make her sails flutter again.  She  scrambled to the winches and tightened the mainsail down even  further,  then did the same to the jib.

Just as she turned, she heard a loud splash. Willa looked over to see   Sam break the surface of the water with a shout and grab hold of a dry   sack he'd obviously thrown down first.

"You idiot!" she screamed, rushing to the rail. "You're going to drown!"

The helicopter pulled away, going several hundred yards east before   hovering again. Willa quickly ran to the wheel and turned the RoseWind   into a stall, then broke both sails to let them flutter in the breeze.

"You get right back on that helicopter!" she shouted to Sam, who was a   good hundred yards away. He simply kept swimming through the gentle   swells toward her. He was having a difficult time of it, though, with   his bulky life vest and having to tow his dry sack.

"You are certifiably insane!"

He kept swimming toward her.

"I mean it, Sam! I don't allow idiots on my boat."

He stopped about ten yards from the RoseWind and treaded water. "Goddamn, the water's cold. Th-throw me a line, Willa."

She pointed at the hovering helicopter. "Go back."

Teeth chattering, he gave her an incredulous look. "How? I have no way   of getting back in the helicopter. If you don't throw me a line, I'll   drown."

"You should have thought of that before you jumped."

His head disappeared below the surface.

"Sam!" She ran to the stern, grabbed the throw buoy with the attached   rope, and tossed it at the dry sack and the bobbing orange vest. "Sam!"

He reached out and grabbed the buoy just as his head popped up. He   sputtered, sucking in large gulps of air. "P-pull me in," he said, his   voice faint as he looped his arm through the buoy ring and rolled onto   his back. "I'm fading fast."

She immediately began pulling him in, alarmed at how difficult it was.   If Sam got so cold he lost the use of his muscles, there was no way   she'd get him into the boat by herself. "Hang in there, Sam!" she urged.

"Help me by kicking your feet."

He made a weak attempt to move his feet.

"Oh, Sam, what have you done?" she cried, straining to pull him in. "I   won't let you drown. You're going to be okay. Keep kicking."

He began floundering like a hooked marlin.

"Maybe you'd better save your energy instead," she told him. He bumped   into the side of the boat, immediately turned upright, and smiled up at   her like the idiot he was. "Easy, Sam. Don't get all slap-happy on me,"   she warned, worried that he was getting hypothermia. "Let go of the   bag."

"P-pull it in f-first," he sputtered, making a weak attempt to lift it toward her.

"Let it go! I'll get it later."

He finally let go of the sack and grabbed the rope with both hands.   "Pull me to the back of the boat. There's a ladder there," he said,   kicking his feet to send him in that direction. Willa hauled him to the   stern, glancing at the helicopter that was still hovering about two   hundred yards away. "That pilot should have his license revoked," she   growled, dragging Sam around to the ladder.

"He's as much of an idiot as you are for letting you jump."

"You're starting to hurt my feelings," Sam said, grabbing the ladder and quickly climbing out of the water.

He stepped onto the deck and immediately pulled her into a cold, wet,   and surprisingly powerful embrace. He kissed her full on her gaping   mouth, then gave her a lopsided smile. "I knew you wouldn't let me   drown."                       
       
           



       

She gave him a hard shove with every intention of pushing him back into the ocean. "You faker! You weren't drowning!"

He spun away before she could shove him again and waved at the   helicopter. "I would have been in trouble in another ten minutes," he   said, signaling the helicopter to leave.

"Enjoy your sail, boss," the pilot's voice boomed over the loudspeaker   as he arched around the RoseWind and headed back toward land.

Sam unfastened his life vest and let it fall to the deck with a soggy   plop. Then he grabbed the gaff hook clipped to the rail and snagged his   dry sack. "Damn, that water was colder than I expected," he said with a   shiver. He headed down the stairway leading below. "Your sails are   flapping, Captain. You might want to reset them and get us under way."

Willa stood frozen, watching him disappear below.

What in hell had just happened?

"You were conned is what happened," she muttered, going to the wheel,   turning the RoseWind back onto her course. "Another Sinclair just pulled   the wool over your eyes!" She stomped to the winch and furiously   cranked until the mainsail snapped taut and the boat strained forward.   "Because you have the word ‘sucker' written across your forehead," she   continued, resetting the jib. "First Abram and now Sam. And people   wonder why you don't want to get married again!"

She stomped back to the wheel, checked her compass heading, and plopped down onto the bench.

"Now what am I supposed to do? I am not spending the next five days   cooped up on this boat with that … that … lunatic." She shook her head,   unable to believe he'd actually jumped.

"Here's a jacket," Sam said when he appeared on deck, dressed in dry   clothes and with a towel covering his wet hair. "Sorry I got you wet   when I hugged you, but I was just so damned glad to be alive. You'd   better put this on before you catch a chill."

"And you'd better put on a life vest, in case you accidentally fall   overboard," she shot back, taking the jacket and setting it on the   bench.

He sat down beside her and began rubbing his hair dry. "This boat's too small for us to wage war on, Willa."

"You should have thought of that before you bullied your way onboard." She gave him an angry glare.

"You and your brothers talk big about walking away from Tidewater   International, but that's obviously a big fat lie if you're willing to   jump out of a helicopter to get those shares."

He stopped drying and glared right back at her. "I'm not here because of Tidewater. I came to save you

. You can't get off an elevator without nearly killing yourself-I half expected to find you hanging from the rigging."

She lifted her chin. "I am a damn good sailor."

"So you say." He started drying his hair again but then suddenly dropped   the towel around his neck and eyed her suspiciously. "Unless it's all   been an act." He smiled-not very nicely, either. "I'm beginning to   suspect you aren't a klutz at all. You knew exactly what Bram was hoping   for when he sent you down here, so instead of hurting the old man's   feelings, you made sure the three of us wouldn't ‘crawl to Maine on our   knees' for you. That's why you dressed like a bag lady and got into one   mess after another."

"Bag lady? I'll have you know that was Maureen's best business suit, and   she was nice enough to lend it to me. You and your grandfather are the   duplicitous ones, not me."