Authors: Anne Marsh
Tags: # Winner takes it all...off Former diving champion Piper Clark never loses. Unfortunately, #if she doesn't land this lucrative contract, #her diving business will fail. Worse still, #it will be at the hands of her childhood nemesis, #Cal Brennan--six feet of hard, #rugged former Navy SEAL. So Piper proposes a wager: whoever loses the diving contract must take orders from the winner...in bed. Cal needs this contract for his own reasons. A former rescue swimmer, #he may be having a few issues with diving since his last mission ended, #but Piper doesn't need to know that. Something about her impulsive nature makes Cal rise to the bait, #and there's nothing he'd like more than to show Piper exactly what rules are good for. All bets are on. And someone's about to start playing dirty....
he got nothing.
“I want a second chance,” he said. “I want you to believe me on this.”
* * *
stronger. She wriggled one more time, just to make the point that she was a strong, independent woman,
and then she let herself relax against him. He felt so good, solid and warm, and apparently her inner wild
child liked being manhandled—just a little—because she suddenly had a whole lot less interest in being on
time for her appointment with the bank officer.
“A second chance at what?” she asked.
His sigh fanned her hair.
“Everything, Piper.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
They’d kissed. They’d made love—okay, it turned out
she’d
made love and maybe he’d been more in it
for the hot sex—and they’d looked out for each other. That wasn’t really a long-term relationship. Cal
wasn’t offering her a solid reason to
stay.
He might say he wanted a second chance at them, but she didn’t
know whether he meant at the dive shop—or her heart.
“I need to go,” she said quietly.
He looked down at her. “Is that really what you want?”
She’d spent her whole life competing, in it to win it. She’d always gone all out, because coming in
second didn’t count. It had always been about making it to the podium. About being, not just good enough,
but the very best. She’d taken chances to get to that point, chances that sometimes paid off and sometimes
ended in disaster. It was the nature of the game. Cal was a fighter, too, but he’d fought for people. She’d
fought for herself. That didn’t make her like herself very much right now. Worse, her heart broke at the
thought of Cal walking away from her. What if having temporarily had him was worse than not having had
him at all?
“I think there’s a good chance we’re good at fighting—and at
chemistry,
” she said carefully. His mouth
quirked, the familiar gesture making her want to stay in his arms forever. “But you’re the one who keeps
telling me not to take chances, Cal. To look before I leap.”
This time, when she twisted, he let her go. The ferry blew its last warning blast, the engines revving and
churning up the water. The gangway rattled as it was withdrawn.
“You’re going to miss your exit,” she warned.
“I was wrong,” he said, not moving.
That made two of them. She didn’t want to compete with him, as fun as that had been. She wanted to
compete
for
him, but that was a game where she didn’t know the rules or even if he wanted her entry.
“I love you,” he said. “And I think you should take a chance on us, because I’m sure going to.”
She took a step back and watched him. Instead of heading for the exit, he turned and walked over to the
railing. The ferry lurched forward, moving slowly away from the dock.
“I’m hoping you might consider loving me back.”
His words hung in the air between them.
“Cal—”
“Jump with me?” he asked and held out a hand. “Take a chance. Be a daredevil. Do it because you can.”
His mouth curved. “Because I
dare
you. And because I’m still scared shitless of going under, but I’ll take
that chance with you.”
Wow. He had her there. Cal never took unnecessary risks. Never jumped without an action plan and a
good reason. Not sure what to say, she walked over to him and stared over the side. The ferry was still
moving slowly. Only a hundred yards to shore, she decided. Or possibly two hundred, if they aimed for the
beach instead of the dock. They’d both made far longer swims.
She looked at him. He waited, watching.
“You think we’d get pulled under the ferry? No. Don’t answer.”
He grinned instead, and her heart pounded, a sweet, warm sensation spreading everywhere inside her.
Honestly, she’d take her chances on surviving the jump with the right partner. With
Cal.
She toed off her
shoes and picked them up.
Half the ferry’s passengers appeared to be staring at them—and she was fairly certain the ferry might,
just possibly, be slowing down. Those were good odds.
“Ready?” he asked, eyeing her shoes.
“You bet.”
Together they clambered over the side. Her dress presented an unexpected challenge, but screw it. If she
was really planning on jumping off a ferry, flashing a few innocent bystanders was the least of her worries.
Cal steadied her anyhow, as she swung her legs over.
Cal glanced down. “I must be crazy,” he muttered.
“Crazy for me.” She laughed and tugged on her ear. Just once, because old habits died hard and she
wanted only good things for her and Cal.
“One hundred percent. On the count of three?”
She nodded. “One. Two. Thr—”
Before she could finish, he scooped her up in his arms and jumped. She shrieked, her shoes flying free
and heading out to sea independently of her. His arms tightened as they achieved a spectacular amount of
air and then ripped through the surface in a cannonball of a landing.
They broke apart underwater and she kicked for the surface. When she broke it, Cal was already there,
waiting for her. The ferry moved slowly away, the cheer from their audience fading slowly over the water.
“My car’s leaving without me,” she observed, treading water.
“It’ll come back.”
“And you owe me a pair of shoes.”
His wet T-shirt clung to him like a second skin. She looked down and, wow, she wasn’t getting out of
the water until dark. Her white dress was completely see-through, plastered to the lacy pink straps of her
bra. She was also clearly cold. Big deal. She turned to him.
“But you definitely got my attention.”
“Good.” He smiled at her, pulling her into his arms.
“Although there were probably
drier
ways to accomplish this,” she said. “Do you want to tell me what
that was really about?
“You were leaving,” he said.
“For a business meeting at a bank, to see about possible financing. I was going to come back and kick
your butt or buy it out.”
His eyes closed briefly. “Then, I may have jumped the gun. Slightly.”
“Oh.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and let him do the heavy lifting of keeping them afloat.
“Are you taking it all back?”
“Carla left me with the impression you were moving off the island, lock, stock and barrel.”
That was definitely something Carla would do. “You want to be careful around her. She’s tricky.”
“I realize that now.” He pulled her closer still. “And you can still do it—kick my butt, find alternate
funding. Whatever it takes to make you happy. Although I’d rather interest you in doing something else. I
love you,” he said and she wanted to hold the moment close, but he was still talking, because apparently
when Cal opened up and found the words to describe what he was feeling, he didn’t
stop.
“It’s not just
about keeping you safe or about winning and losing. I want it all—the love and the risks. The question is—
will you take a chance on me? And possibly,” he groaned, “take pity on me and tell me how you’re feeling
right now?”
She reached up and brushed her mouth over his. “I can do that. I love you.”
His slow smile grew. “Good, because I’m fairly certain you owe me another night since you
lost
the
Fiesta contract, and I was planning on collecting.”
The tender look was back in his eyes, so she momentarily put her new plan of drowning him and
swimming back to shore on hold.
“Or four or four hundred,” she agreed.
“I’d be willing to compromise on
forever.
”
“Deal,” she said and kissed him.
* * * * *
coming soon from Harlequin Blaze!
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Read each of their stories in the captivating Fifth Avenue trilogy, only from Harlequin Presents:
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And don’t miss the Fifth Avenue prequel that started it all,
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