Beautiful Rescue

By Nancy Sands

Floating on her power boat outside Charleston Bay, Christina McPherson realizes she’s been adrift since becoming a young widow. Missing the companionship of her marriage, she also knows it lacked the passion she craved.
With a dead motor and no radio or cell signal, Christina is frightened, cold and lost, when a sleek sailboat appears out of the dark. The devastatingly handsome rescuer is Jack Reese, Charleston’s most eligible bachelor.
Jack is intrigued by Christina’s natural beauty, refined sexuality and apparent lack of interest. Once safely on land, he kisses her goodbye, leaving both surprised, breathless and shaken.
Tapping into his player reputation, inexperienced Christina asks Jack to mentor her on how to make love—no strings attached. They fall hard in each other’s arms, but trouble is brewing.
Jack’s snobbish mother and sexy ex-girlfriend conspire to pull them apart. Will Christina and Jack overcome all and rescue each other?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Sands
• Release date: Sep 13, 2021

Nancy Sands

Nancy and Sandy = Nancy Sands Looking to unwind from their high-powered, dead-line driven world, two writer-producers discovered their love of all things Charleston and a mutual tendency to escape with romantic, sexy novels. Excited to bring their own imaginations to life, they gave birth to a captivating romance series centered around Charleston, three beautiful couples and their up, down all around paths to finding each other. Beautiful Rescue, featuring Christina and Jack, Beautiful Journey with Janie and Cam, and Beautiful Awakening with Rena and Zach are three sensual stories about beautiful yet lost people who didn't know they were waiting for their chance at love. The dynamic writing duo has more books in the pipeline, so once you burn through this series, get ready for more. They live in Minneapolis with their husbands, kids and extended families.

Book preview

BEAUTIFUL RESCUE

By

Nancy Sands

SMASHWORDS EDITION

PUBLISHED BY:

Nancy Sands

Copyright © 2020

Cover by Joleene Naylor

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

OTHER BOOKS BY NANCY SANDS:

Beautiful Rescue

Beautiful Journey

Beautiful Awakening

Chapter 1

Christina

Life is really a circle. No matter how far away you get from the essence of who you really are, at some point, even though you have wandered far away, you begin to connect with your true self.

That’s what I was thinking as I watched the reflection of a golden sunset ripple on the the lapping waters of the Atlantic Ocean, my power boat drifting aimlessly past Edisto. I thanked the gods of providence that the winds were mere whispers so I did not have to fear the cruel temper of a windy sea. Still, I worried. The dangers of being adrift in the dark on a busy coastline did not escape me.

It was getting cold, as the sun sunk deeper into the western sky. My light T-shirt and white shorts were no match for the cooling effect of sunset. Goose bumps sprinkled my skin like a wave and I looked around for something to wrap around my shoulders. A beach towel would have to do. The darkening sky heightened my anxiety and I wondered how and when I would be rescued.

Looking up at the sky and trying to focus on the beauty of my surroundings, I cursed my situation as just one more link in the chain of misfortunes that had plagued my life over the past year. The motor on the boat was as still and silent as the rest of my life since my husband collapsed of cardiac arrest while doing his morning workout over a year ago.

I loved him and our life was good and solid, even if lacking in fiery passion. We liked each other’s company and had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that was hard to find and even harder to replace. We married young and had two wonderful children—both in college now and making their way.

Remembering the shock of his sudden death and my current dead motor, a raw bolt of panic left me with mild nausea and a blank sense of numbness I couldn’t seem to shake. Forgetting to check that my radio was working before I left the Marina conjured no self-scolding or regret. I just drifted—relieved that I didn’t know where I was headed.

Lost in the reverie of memories and the gentle caress of lapping water, I missed the sound of flapping sails and cutting waves. Half-dreaming, I shivered and started when a strong, masculine voice called out, Are you in trouble? I’ve tried to hail you on the radio and no answer.

The accusatory tone in his voice had me on high alert. He sounded pissed. Could this day get any worse? I pulled out the binoculars I kept nearby for scouting birds and sea turtles, held them up and quickly realized it was hard to see in the darkening sky.

Dumbshit, I muttered, then stood up and waved my arms as I yelled, Yes, please help. My motor conked out, my radio isn’t working and my cell phone is dead. ‘Yes, I’m and idiot,’ I might as well have added.

As soon as the words crossed my lips, I began to regret them. What if he was a pirate, a rapist, a mugger? Just as quickly, I dismissed the idea. In these waters outside of one of the most charming towns in America, foul play was unlikely.

You really are losing it, I said to the wind while I looked for a line I could throw.

As the rescue boat got closer, I could see that it was spectacular—a fifty-footer with living quarters below, sleek enough for speed and designed for pleasure. It shined with quality and care from bow to stern and for a moment I forgot my dilemma and wondered at the sight of this amazing vessel captured in the quickly darkening sky.

Bringing the two boats together could be tricky, yet the captain pulled his yacht alongside mine with graceful precision. I hurried forward as he threw me a line, which fell over the rails and landed at my feet. Not bad. He knew what he was doing.

I grabbed the line and held on tight, but almost dropped it when I raised myself up and stared at the man in front of me—hazy in the dim starlight—yet unmistakably tall, strong, gorgeous and all male. I felt a heat and electricity as I stared at his dark, shrouded form.

I’m on my way to Hilton Head to meet up with my crew, he called loudly. Where are you headed?

I was frozen at the sight of him. My lips parted, but I stared mutely for an awkward ten seconds, then finally…I conjured a small voice.

I came out of the inlet to watch the dolphins and lost all track of time. Then when I went to start the motor it was dead and so was my radio. I’ve been drifting for several hours. Or maybe for years, I thought.

Do you want me to come aboard and tie off your boat? Then, we can talk about your options, the mysterious male voice asked.

Yes, please, I said and gestured him toward my boat. When he boarded, I felt a wild-eyed panic settle in. I didn’t know why I was reacting to him like a junior high rookie and why my goose bumps had doubled in size.

I’m Jack, he said as soon as his feet landed and I instinctively took a step back. He barely gave me a glance while I stared, feeling threatened. He felt like danger with a capital D. The last thing I was looking for. Jack quickly and expertly started working the lines and setting up the tow using the cleats on the bow.

I’m Christina and you’re a lifesaver, I managed to squeak out. He gave me a cursory nod and kept on task.

I watched as he secured my boat to his stern--his biceps bulging out from under a simple black T-shirt and his ass-hugging khaki shorts accentuating his hard, fit physique. I couldn’t stop from perusing how his long legs and muscled calves moved gracefully and his long fingers worked quickly to secure the lines.

He wore a dark cap pulled down in the front, so his face was not entirely visible. Yet when he turned at a certain angle in the moonlight, I caught a riveting glimpse of full lips, angular cheekbones and sculpted nose.

After my boat was secured, Jack reached out for my hand, helping me cross to his boat and once again I stood frozen. Look, Jack said and I noticed his gaze resting on my trembling lips. Are you all right? Are you hurt?

I just shook my head, mute as I looked into his deep eyes. Hilton Head is much closer than Charleston and I have commitments there tonight, he continued. So that’s where we’re headed. If you don’t want to do that, we can try Sea Tow or someone from your marina can come out and tow you back to Charleston.

I stood shivering while considering his words. He threw me a sweatshirt that was lying in his cockpit and softly nudged me with, Put this on. When I looked up into eyes again, there was a moment where electricity flared. I looked away quickly, frightened of the raw energy.

You’re awfully bossy, I said while zipping up the damp sweatshirt. Could you check with Sea Tow? I asked. I’d really like to get home.

Jack radioed for towing assistance and left me there to ponder what was happening. Because of an incident on a Charleston Dinner cruise, Sea Tow, the Marina Tow and most emergency boats were busy for several hours. Since Jack assured them I was in no imminent danger, I was last on the list for a tow.

Well, that settles it, Christina. I can’t leave you stranded out here. It’s late and weather’s coming in. I’ll tow you to Hilton Head and we can make a plan from there. The dominance in Jack’s voice left no room for argument.

I nodded and he walked to his navigation station to take his place at the wheel. I heard an engine fire and felt a small lurch as the sailboat turned, my boat straightened and we began the slow journey to Hilton Head.

I wondered why my adrenalin was humming. This was no big deal. People towed other people to marinas all the time. ‘I must be starved for adventure,’ I thought. ‘This is no big deal.’

The last years of my marriage left me daydreaming with longing about the carefree backpacking days I had in Europe with my friend Janie when we were right out of college. For months we wandered, explored, ate, drank, partied and even had a few short love affairs. I felt like life was an endless path of exciting opportunities to live and love.

In those days I went on lots of sailing trips with fun-loving, crazy friends. Life was one, big, ongoing, exciting exploration. The carefree times ended when I returned home and my parents enlisted me in their friend’s senatorial campaign. That’s where I met my husband, Charles, and was married six months later.

For years, exuberant happiness and adventure had been foreign to me, I realized. Tonight, I felt, for the first time, a glimmering sense of promise. Yet my instinct was to not be ‘silly’ and to tamp it down. I was a grown woman now. I’d had my halcyon days. Settling back, I prepared to stoically ride out the rest of the journey and the rest of my life.

The slapping of water, the celestial lightshow on black water and the relief that I was rescued cradled me into a hypnotic state. If not for the delicious, fresh citrusy smell surrounding me from Jack’s sweatshirt—I could have drifted off. I pulled it closer and couldn’t stop the devilish upturn of my sunburned lips.

Chapter 2

Jack

One thing I have no patience for is people who don’t respect the vagaries of the sea. This woman had placed herself in such danger by not checking her radio or letting anyone know where she was going. Any boater worth their salt abided by those rules. She sure was messing up my plans for the night. But, man—it was tough to stay angry.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye while she glumly shivered in the night breeze. My hoodie was unzipped in the front and the coolness of the night made her nipples visible through her flimsy white T-shirt. Her long and lean body exuded a refined sex appeal. Even when she hunched over, arms around her legs, it was easy to see that she was fit, curvy and all natural. Unlike most of the women I knew and bedded, she seemed oblivious to me. I tried to make eye contact and she blatantly ignored it. Okay, two could play this game.

I asked Christina to take the wheel while I went below to round up some more warm clothes. She took over like a pro. Nice.

I found a pink pair of Juicy Couture sweatpants that might fit. She gave me a questioning look when I handed them over, but what the heck. Who is she to judge? I’m the one helping her out.

Whoever left the pink pants must have had about fifteen pounds on Christina. They hung low on her slender hips, making her look much younger and more vulnerable than she probably was. Around forty, I guessed. Great ass. Nice tits. Unbelievable skin. Thick, wavy blonde hair. Big blue eyes. Kissable mouth. Totally, unbelievably fuckable, not that I was noticing. Shit.

I was really trying to back off from my bad boy reputation, but it wasn’t easy. I knew it was an escape and it was hollow and unfair. But it was almost an addiction for me. While some turned to booze or drugs, I had two recreational escapes—sailing and flailing (better known as fucking).

Lately, though, the easy women and boozy hook ups just weren’t doing it for me. Maybe I was growing out of my Peter Pan stage, as my married friend, Judy, called it. But the idea of settling down with one woman just wasn’t on my radar—no way. Too many fish in the sea. Too much risk of having my heart stomped.

Maybe Christina would be a good diversion, I considered, as she turned her face to me with a very slight smile. She was vulnerable, I knew that. Something about the look in her eye. Too much forced, fake serenity. For all I knew, she was boring as hell. I’d probably never find out. But those legs…I’d like to get to know them for sure.

Remembering how late I was going to be to meet up with my crew at the Callibogue Yacht Club party, I texted Josh and Cam.

Jack: ON MY WAY. RESCUED DAMSELLE IN DISTRESS.

Josh: I KNOW YOUR DEFINITION OF RESCUE.

Jack: THIS TIME IT’S THE REAL DEAL. SEE YOU SOON.

The real deal, I thought. Was there such a thing? For years, I’d traveled the world. Been there and done that. Generations of tobacco and cotton money left me heir to my grandparents’ fortune and I loved and resented it. My family is a bunch of Old South social climbers with genteel manners and hearts of stone. They resent my vagabond ways and philandering reputation. A mark on the Reese heritage, you know. I just wasn’t doing my part to live up.

Most Charlestonians knew me as the ultimate player-- a different belle at every ball and no lasting relationships in sight. A woman in every port and that’s the way I like