The thrid book in Cherry Adair's Cutter Cay series plunges into a Vortex of high-sea adventure and romance, where a long-lost treasure is a deadly lure—and love is the most dangerous current of all...
Searching for a sunken ship off the coast of Peru, treasure hunter Logan Cutter manages to pull a very different kind of prize from the sea—beautiful gallery owner Daniela Rosada. Dani claims she was thrown overboard by ruthless pirates and begs for his protection. But Logan is no stranger to a woman's lies, and something about her story doesn't add up.
IN TOO DEEP
With her knowledge of Peruvian artifacts, Dani offers to help Logan translate an ancient map that will lead them to a shipwrecked treasure—and into a carefully laid trap. But the closer they get, the deeper she falls for him, not realizing that Logan is hiding a secret of his own. By the time she learns the truth about his boat, his brothers—and his blood feud with pirates—it's too late. By falling in love, they've set a course for disaster...
"Thrilling and hazardous! When you add in the sensuous sizzle, you have the full Adair package." —Romantic Times on Undertow
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She fought him off like a feral wildcat, their bodies rising and falling in the swells. Grappling to get a secure grip on the woman's slippery, flailing limbs, Logan Cutter struggled to restrain her, keep her face out of the water, and not drown himself in the process.
Over the surge of the roiling, moonlit-speckled black water, the warning bells sounded. Three long rings, followed by the ship's whistle, alerted everyone there was a man overboard.
Woman overboard in this case.
Except there were no women on board Sea Wolf this voyage.
If not for his dog barking, and that fleeting glimpse of the white strobe on the woman's life vest seen briefly in the vast darkness, he would've gone to bed, none the wiser.
Salt water stung the scratches she'd already scored across his throat and face. "Lady, stop fighting me!"
Sirens bleating. The slap of the waves. She could do little more than gurgle now and again as the sea filled her mouth. But she fought him with such intent, he was afraid he would have to knock her out to save her. The other alternative was to swim away until she went under. A little water in her lungs wouldn't kill her. But it might shock her into awareness. Or not.
The floatation device she wore wasn't foolproof, as was evidenced by her repeatedly sinking below the surface.
Logan grabbed whatever he could—her hand, this time—hauling up so her head breached the surface chop. She coughed, gagged, fought harder for purchase. She tried to climb his body.
"I'm trying to help—Shit!" Her thrashing leg found his groin. He managed to close his fingers around her upper arm. Now she shrieked bloody murder, grabbing at his hair, his face, his reaching hands. She was as slippery as an eel as she battled to scale to the highest point. His head.
He went under. Came up spluttering, peeling her octopus arms off him, so he could control where they went and how. "I get it." He managed to grasp both slender wrists in one hand. "You're terrified. I won't let you drown, hear me? I got you. Just let me—"
Mindless with fear, she was out of control. Dangerous to them both as, despite—or because of—his hold on her, she planted one foot on his extended leg and started climbing his body again. "—ver hit—wom—my life," He bit out. "—ut, lady, if—don't—rescue you,—gonna—ave—slug y—. Your choice." None of his threat came out in a neat stream, as he, too, was gagging and spitting out water. His words washed out of his mouth the minute he uttered them.
Moonlight shone on the woman's pale, wet face, glinting in her terrified eyes as she batted at his hands. Logan doubted she even saw him. She was in full-on panic mode. Her instinct for survival primal, she was too afraid to hear his assurances. He grabbed a handful of long hair as she went under again, pulling her head to the surface. He jerked his face out of reach—too late—and was rewarded with her elbow smacking him in the mouth.
Their bodies rose with the next swell—he saw the lights of his ship—then sank into the next dark trough.
It wasn't uncommon for drowning victims to use their rescuer as a floatation device. "Damn it, we'll both drown at this rate!" He was already hoarse from the salt water and so much yelling. He could've saved his voice. She was too panicked to hear him. "Settle dow—" His nose got in the way of the top of her hard head. "Ow!"
He grabbed and twisted the cord of her life vest in one unyielding fist, holding her at arm's length and kicking out, dragging her with him. Her head went under again. He...