She opened a sleepy eye, then sat upright. Ten feet away rose the towering slab side of the freighter’s hull. They had come that close to being crushed.

“Harold—” She blinked and looked again. “I think our ship has come in.”

Chapter 7

7

CAPTAIN FRANCO’S FACE WAS BEET RED AS HE SURVEYED the Sea Splendour’s damaged stern from an enclosed launch. Yet the destruction was much less than he feared; the shredded fantail showed primarily cosmetic damage. Divers would examine below the waterline, but by all accounts, the crew could handle the damage. They would barricade the aft deck, and the ship could continue its voyage with only minimal delay. Franco well knew the wrath he’d receive from the corporate offices if the passengers had to be put ashore and their fares refunded. Thankfully, that was one lesser tragedy averted. But to him the ship was like a family member, and he burned with fury at the disfigurement.

“Take us to the freighter,” he told the launch’s young pilot.

A deck officer motioned for the captain’s attention.

“Sir, a small boat appears to be in distress off our starboard beam.”

Captain Franco leaned out the open entryway. There was the red speedboat, drifting half submerged. The couple was not only still alive but sitting on the bow and waving at him.

“That’s the nut who rammed his boat into the carrier.” He shook his head. “Go ahead, go pick them up.”

The launch pulled alongside the sinking boat. Pitt helped Loren onto the launch, then jumped aboard. He turned and watched the battered speedboat a moment before it slipped under the surface.

He turned to face the frowning captain. “I guess I’m going to have to buy someone a new boat.”

Franco took a long look at Pitt; he wasn’t a young fool—or a drunk. He was tall, with a lean, muscular body. Despite the bloody gash to his shin, he stood upright with an easy confidence. His face was rugged, showing years spent outdoors, and he grinned in easy bemusement. Then there were the eyes, a beguiling green that burned with intelligence.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Pitt said, “you saved us a healthy swim to shore.”

“I watched you destroy your own boat running into the freighter,” Franco said. “Why did you nearly kill yourself?”

“To knock the rudder over.” Pitt gazed toward the cruise ship’s damaged stern. “Guess I didn’t get there quite in time.”

The captain’s face turned white. “My heavens, of course. It was you who changed the freighter’s course at the last second.”

He grasped Pitt’s hand and shook it until Pitt’s arm almost fell off. “You saved my ship and hundreds of lives. We had no time to maneuver—we would have been mauled by that idiot.”

“He ran over a sailboat, and nearly got us as well.”