Castillo's Bride. Anne Marie Duquette

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      Where was he? How long had he been there?

      Jordan Castillo came slowly to consciousness. He was too weak to move, too weak to even open his eyes, but he could feel things. From the familiar rolling beneath him, he knew he was on a ship. He breathed a sigh of relief.

      His will had been sorely tested. He’d been frightened that he’d lose his battle with death, and Jordan Castillo wasn’t a man who frightened easily. As long as he could still feel pain, he knew he was alive.

      He could hear what went on around him. Even now he listened for the woman’s voice. Aurora Collins—that’s who she is. They were supposed to meet at the pier. She was the woman who’d saved him…the same woman who could salvage his family fortune.

      Jordan exhaled, his broken ribs protesting.

      There it was again. Her voice.

      Dear Reader,

      As a navy veteran who married a career navy man with a lifelong love of the sea, I just had to write a book about people like us—people who feel completely at home on a boat. People who are endlessly fascinated by oceans.

      Our children feel the same way. My husband took our son out in a real canoe while he still wore diapers. Our daughter swam laps across an Olympic-size pool at the age of six—and complained loudly every time a new lifeguard tried to send her to the wading pool. The topper is my niece Julie, another water baby who grew up on boats. Her very first word wasn’t “Mommy” or “Daddy,” but “Fish.” Fish! I think that sums it up right there.

      Naturally the people in this story are fictitious, but the waters, the harbors, landmarks and marine terminology are real—and a big part of my life. My husband and I have scuba dived the great kelp forests off our coastline, and Oceanside Harbor is the very place where we dock our own harborcraft. Our boats, Neptune’s Bride, the Silver Dollar and Tempest Tantrum, were used as models for this novel. The many military and civilian sailors we’ve known and sailed with have helped inspire my story, a story about people passionately in love with the last unexplored frontier on our planet—our oceans.

      Captains Jordan Castillo and Aurora Collins share this love…and fall in love with each other. Like all real sailors, they are only truly happy when they’re with other people who feel the same. I hope you enjoy their adventures in the beautiful waters outside San Diego, California. Bon voyage!

      Anne Marie Duquette

      Castillo’s Bride

      Anne Marie Duquette

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CONTENTS

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      San Diego, California

      June 24, 11:45 p.m.

      JORDAN CASTILLO struggled frantically on the moonlit beach, his movements alerting the woman who paced some distance off, waiting for him. She immediately stopped, her lithe swimmer’s body hidden beneath the shadowy pier, her sandal-clad feet just above the water-mark.

      Bad enough that another human being was in grave danger. But this was the man she’d waited weeks to meet—the one man who could help her save the tortured lives of her sister, Dorian, and Dorian’s husband and child. Castillo now battled for his life, and Aurora Collins knew she had to do something.

      She’d planned to meet him at his downtown hotel, a meeting that hadn’t occurred. The three silent men she watched now had kidnapped him—that was the only thing she could call it. Somehow they’d lured him from the hotel lobby, then forced him into a car. She’d seen it all from the parking lot and followed them.

      She stood uncertainly by the pier, staring at the desperate tableau taking place, wishing she’d recharged the battery in her dead cell phone, which lay uselessly in her car.

      Her night vision—vision developed through years spent at sea—registered the identity of the man she sought. His once-handsome face was covered in blood. His clothing was torn, his arms covered with welts as he tried to protect his head from swinging bats. She watched in horror as three other men clubbed him again and again.

      Aurora gasped СКАЧАТЬ