Donovans 02 - Jade Island

wrapped around her.
    “I think I’m gaining on it,” she said breathlessly.
    “Good,” he said through clenched teeth. “Keep pumping the rod. That’s it.”
    “When do you get the net?”
    “Soon,” Kyle prayed beneath his breath. “I hope.” Breath hissed between his teeth as her butt rubbed against him like a cat in heat. He bit off a groan.
    “What?” Lianne asked.
    “Pump!”
    She pumped, cranking in a foot of line at a time. She didn’t know she was panting and laughing and panting some more. All she knew was that something powerful and alive was on the other end of the line, something thatwas going to test her strength and determination before it gave up and became dinner.
    It never occurred to her that she would lose.
    Lianne wrestled the fish up to the boat again, only to have the salmon turn and race away once more. A hundred feet of line peeled off in a screaming blur. She shifted position like a boxer heading into the final round and began pumping all over again.
    Kyle didn’t know whether he was happy or sad. Crazy, yes. He knew about that. So crazy that he was hoping the salmon had at least one more good run in it.
    The third time Lianne got the fish near the boat, it made a halfhearted run. Grinning fiercely, she reeled in line.
    “I’m letting go to get the net,” Kyle said. “Okay?”
    Only then did Lianne realize that he had been wrapped around her like a lover, helping her to keep her balance while the fish moved from one side of the boat to the other. Heat shot through her, the same fire that had prowled through her all the long, restless night.
    “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m braced.”
    Unwillingly, he removed his arms. He stepped back just a little, steadied her, and reluctantly accepted that he had no more excuse to touch her. She was doing just fine on her own.
    “Watch the weight,” Kyle said suddenly. “Stop reeling!”
    Lianne stopped, looked, and saw that the weight was at the rod tip, stuck in the eye of the first line guide. The tip was only a few feet above the water. Four more feet of line was underneath. At the end of that was a hook and a very unhappy salmon.
    From the corner of her eye she saw Kyle take a big black salmon net out of its holder. Slowly he wetted the net in the sea, watching the tired turning of the salmon just out of his reach. The fish was big, deep, its scales shimmering with life.
    “He’s a beauty, twenty pounds if he’s an ounce,” Kyle said. “When I tell you to, back up and keep your—”
    “Rod tip up,” Lianne finished with a breathless laugh. “I have that part memorized.”
    “Don’t stumble on the engine cover when you back up.”
    “Are you going to net my fish or order me around?”
    “I’m an older brother. I can do both at the same time.”
    “Kyle, hurry up,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to lose it!”
    “You won’t. Back up some more. A little more. Keep going. Good!”
    A quick swoop and flex of Kyle’s arms, a rush of seawater pouring through the net, and the fish was aboard.
    Lianne made a husky sound and dropped to her knees, reaching for the salmon. It was blue-black on top and burning silver underneath. Except for the net, the fish was free. It had thrown the hook the instant the pressure of the line was off.
    She touched the salmon. It was as cold and elemental as the ocean itself.
    “You aren’t going to go all sentimental on me, are you?” Kyle asked warily.
    Lianne didn’t say anything, just looked at the fish.
    “Oh, well,” he said, “I had fresh salmon last night. I’ll throw it back.”
    Her head snapped up. “What?”
    “I thought you were having a round of fisherman’s, er, fishersan’s regret.”
    Lianne licked her lips. “Actually, I was thinking of how many ways I know to prepare salmon.”
    “You sure? You looked—”
    “I’m sure,” she cut in. “When I’m in Vancouver or Hong Kong, I go to restaurants where the fish are swimming in a tank. You pick out your dinner and it’s killed and cleaned while you watch. That’s how you know the fish is fresh. As for this salmon, the only regret I have is that I can’t eat the whole thing right now, while it’s so shiny and fresh and beautiful.”
    He glanced at his watch. “If we hurry, we can eat a hunk of it before we go see Seng.”
    “What are we waiting for? Hand me the cosh.”
    “I can do it.”
    “And I can learn.”
    “Cleaning, too?”
    She sighed. “Yeah, cleaning, too.”
    “You’re in luck.