Castillo's Bride. Anne Duquette Marie

Чтение книги онлайн.

      The water lapped gently at the wooden sides of the dinghy as her hand rested on his arm. After a brief moment, she twisted the forward gear shaft. The electric motor started up again, propelling the Tempest Tantrum back to Neptune’s Bride.

      The sun had disappeared by the time they climbed back aboard Bride. Jordan secured the dinghy in its resting place on the stern diving deck. Aurora tilted the motor out of the water, then sprayed off the saltwater with fresh water from her slip’s hose.

      “I’m going to shower,” she said. “There’s a common cabin I use as a sitting room. You’ll find the North County and San Diego newspapers there, if you want them. Help yourself.”

      “Thanks.”

      Moments later, he watched her head up toward the slip-gate and the private showers, key in hand, a fresh towel rolled up in the other. Jordan leaned against the railing, watching the sun sink the final distance below the waterline. Family conversations, cooking smells, children’s laughter and the barking of ships’ dogs mingled with the sounds of jazz, radios, and auto and marine traffic. The closeness of the slips, much narrower than those he was used to, made outdoor familiarity simple.

      People greeted other people with the warm familiarity he’d known in every port. Yet this woman was different. Aurora had exchanged brief greetings with several people, but remained somewhat aloof. Friendly yet uninvolved. She was certainly loyal to her own family—but they seemed far removed from her life.

      What kind of woman runs away from her family—a family she obviously loves? I would have done anything to hold on to mine.

      Honesty compelled him to answer his own question. She was probably no different than the kind of man who could walk away from a loving fiancé. He’d seen no other option at the time, but at least his family had understood. Apparently hers never did.