Her job required it to a certain extent, but it had been a part of her makeup for much longer, ever since her childhood passion for gymnastics. She used her strength and endurance as a means of being competitive with men—she always scored among the highest in the patrol during the annual physical fitness exams. But she knew when she had reached her limit. The cumulative effects of traumas both physical and emotional had wiped out all her reserves. She had as strong a will as anyone, but her legs simply wouldn’t obey it. They buckled, and she sat abruptly back down on the sand. "Come on, Julie—get up. We’ve got to get off this beach!" She stared up at the dark form looming over her, blinked water from her eyes and slowly shook her head. Chayne lifted his hands in exasperation, then leaned down and scooped her up in his arms like a rag doll. The next thing Julie knew she was upside down over his shoulder, held securely by a band of solid muscle across her thighs. Her dignity was offended.
