THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

the captain that he ran into weather and arrived later than he’d planned, so he couldn’t fill it before docking. I can’t blame him, but I have to get it fueled soon.”
    “Why? Are you taking it for a ride?”  If he went for a ride in this thing, low fuel should be the least of his worries.
    A life jacket, flare gun, inflatable raft – those were items to be concerned about.
    “No, it’s for safety,” he continued. “An empty tank is more dangerous than a full one. Gas fumes combust quicker than solid fuel.”  When he’d finished running the engines, Zane returned the keys to their hiding spot.
    Leaving the ignition keys onboard the boat amazed her. Attitudes in Florida appeared a lot more trusting than in New York or Raleigh.
    “I forgot to grab the new bow lines from the truck and I need to see the manager. You ready?”  He stood next to the side offering his hand to help her back onto the dock.
    She caught herself before “no” popped out of her mouth. “I’d like to wait here, if it’s okay with you. I’ve never spent any time around boats, especially like this one.”  That was basically true since the closest she’d ever come to boating was riding a ferry.
    Zane eyed up and down the dock, but few crafts remained in port on the beautiful day. “Promise me you’ll stay right here.”
    “Of course.”
    He appeared doubtful, but glanced around then left. Even she realized it would be hard for her to get away without him seeing her.
    As soon as Zane stepped off the end of the dock onto the parking lot, Angel scrambled below to dig through cabinets and drawers. The air in the cabin smelled of mildew. Thank goodness he’d opened the windows and hatches.
    The coins had to still be hidden in the boat curtains or the curtains would be installed and Zane would have figured out that she was the one who’d hidden them.
    She searched through shelves above four flat cushions put together like a puzzle to create a bed that ran wall to wall. The nautical pattern on the tattered covers had faded severely in the center area where sun had burned through the hatch when it was open.
    When she heard Zane moving around up top, she quickly shifted her search to the drawers where she could claim curiosity if caught. He could see through the open hatch. She dug through odd lures, matches in a watertight capsule and several sets of sunshades in two drawers.
    A cabinet below the tiny sink held rags, a rusty battery-operated light that didn’t appear operable, rolls of clear line and a green plastic divided container full of assorted hooks.
    The boat rocked slightly toward the narrow walkway that extended off the main dock and ran between boats. Zane must have stepped off to tie ropes.
    She spun back to the bed to find out if anything was beneath those cushions.
    She’d just discovered individual compartments when she heard, “Make yourself at home.”
    Angel swung around to face Zane standing at the top of the steps to the cabin. Her heart took a hit on that one. How had he gotten back on the boat so quietly and without rocking it?
    “Sorry, I was just curious.”  She sucked in a deep breath. Nope, that didn’t calm her one bit. “There’s so much stuff in here. Did the boat come with all this...?”
    “Tackle?”
    Junk had been her next word, but she nodded.
    “The last owner left some of it there. Normal with a cabin cruiser this old. The rest I stocked the other day when I got back from Jacksonville.”
    That had to mean he’d brought the boat curtains here, but asking him about that package would be all he’d need to start asking her questions.
    He was still watching her. She glanced around the cabin, nodding. “Boy, is there a lot of storage in here. Amazing. You really picked a good one.” 
    Zane’s narrowed eyes had her thinking he didn’t quite buy the act, but he didn’t challenge her. “I’ll change out the bow lines and we’ll go.” 
    Now? What the heck had he been doing before?
    Light showered back through the door once his massive body shifted out of the way. She could hear him shuffling around, and decided she’d be better served to wipe off anything she touched and come back alone later to dig through the boat.
    Leaving with the knowledge the coins might be within reach strained the limits of her patience. As a child she’d been impatient, but twelve months in a jail cell had taught her diligence. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape Mason had paid off and,