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the opposition, whose craft were clearly less expertly designed. His team was one of only two remaining contenders heading neck and neck for the finish line to a deafening roar from the crowd when a swell from a motorised boat further out to sea hit the two rafts, which veered towards each other and collided, pitching several of their occupants into the sea.

      Rescue boats were at hand in case of mishaps, but for a second or two Lacey’s heart was in her mouth as she counted the heads bobbing in the water before identifying Tully’s seal-sleek one.

      Emma, who had been jumping up and down and squealing with excitement, fell quiet, and Lacey put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Daddy’s okay,’ she said, looking down at her daughter’s crestfallen face. ‘And it doesn’t matter if they don’t win.’

      She glanced back at the water and saw that some of his crew had clambered back on board the raft, but now she couldn’t see Tully.

      She searched the choppy water with her eyes, then returned her gaze to the raft in case she’d missed him. No, none of those on board had his tall, broad-shouldered leanness combined with his dark hair. And all of them were looking over the side at the water.

      Where was he? Lacey’s hand unconsciously tightened on Emma’s delicate shoulder bones.

      Then two heads broke the water close to one of the rescue boats, and the crowd murmured to each other and raised hands to shade their eyes and see better against the glinting sun as a limp form was hauled onto its deck. Blood trickled down a whitened face.

      ‘That’s Daddy!’ Emma said excitedly.

      Lacey’s breath stopped, until she saw what Emma meant. Tully was still in the water, leaning on the gunwale for a few seconds, then lifting a hand to the men in the boat as he pushed himself away.

      He swam back to the raft, and the two crews sorted themselves out and completed the race, Tully’s coming in just barely ahead of the other.

      Almost before they touched the sand he leapt off and, brushing aside well-wishers and congratulations, strode to where the rescue boat had come into shore, a couple of ambulance officers racing to meet it.

      ‘Is the man all right?’ Emma turned an anxious face to her mother.

      ‘I don’t know.’ A knot of people was gathering, and she couldn’t see what was going on.

      An ambulance drove down near to the beach and the crowd fell back. There was a short pause before the vehicle went off, and then she saw Tully coming towards them.

      Emma and Riria ran to meet him, and Lacey hurried along behind them.

      ‘Is he badly hurt?’ Lacey asked. ‘What happened?’

      ‘He must have banged his head as he went over. He blacked out for a few seconds but came round almost as soon as we got him into the boat. They’ve taken him to hospital for observation, but he’ll most likely be fine.’

      Emma said, ‘You saved his life, didn’t you, Daddy?’ Tully looked down at her and laughed. ‘Not really. The rescue boats are there for that. I just helped a bit.’

      Someone called his name, and he said, ‘Sorry, they want me for the victory ceremony. Don’t go away.’

      Emma dragged Riria and Lacey after him to watch the team collect a gaudy trophy and a giant bottle of champagne that they showered all over each other and a good part of the crowd, who didn’t seem to mind.

      On the way home, they stopped by the injured man’s home to make sure his wife knew what had happened and that she didn’t need any help, then dropped off Riria.

      After swinging the car into the drive and pulling on the brake, Tully put his hand momentarily over Lacey’s. ‘Thanks for coming with Emma.’

      She gave a small gasp. ‘Tully, you’re frozen!’

      ‘My hands are a bit chilled, maybe.’

      His skin had felt icy against hers, although the car heater had been on. ‘Come inside,’ she said. ‘I’ll make you a hot drink.’

      He looked faintly amused, but didn’t argue. Emma was already out of the car and waiting on the step for Lacey to unlock the door.

      ‘Would you like a warm bath?’ Lacey asked him when they were all inside.

      ‘Sounds tempting,’ he admitted. She saw now that his face had a pinched look that was unlike him. He gave an involuntary shiver, and she said, ‘Emma, fetch your father a towel from the airing cupboard—a big one. Go on,’ she urged him. ‘You know where the bathroom is.’

      She switched on the electric jug before shedding her jacket and going to hang it in her bedroom. There was a heater in the hallway and she turned up the thermostat on her way back to the kitchen. Taking down the coffee jar, she paused at the sight of the whisky bottle pushed into the corner of the cupboard, then reached in and took it out.

      She poured a generous shot into a glass, added minimal water, and made for the bathroom and tapped on the door. ‘Can I come in?’

      ‘Okay.’

      She pushed open the door and found him lying back in the bath, his head turned enquiringly towards her. He had the tub half-filled with steaming water, but the scanty bubbles of soap on the surface weren’t hiding anything.

      ‘I didn’t realise you were already in the bath,’ she said, almost retreating, then changing her mind. That would be silly, and probably afford him some amusement. ‘I thought you might like a whisky.’ Fixing her eyes on his face, she advanced towards him and placed the glass in the hand he held out for it, then immediately backed away. ‘Coffee will be ready when you’ve finished in here.’

      ‘Thanks. You do know how to pamper a man, Lacey. You wouldn’t care to scrub my back, would you?’

      ‘No, I wouldn’t!’ She paused in the doorway.

      He laughed. ‘I didn’t think so.’ Lifting the glass to her, he took a sip and then looked back at her, still grinning, but his eyes were oddly speculative. ‘Why the outrage? I haven’t asked you to get in here with me...though it’s an interesting thought.’

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