A slow, cocky smile spread across his face, one filled with determination and…adoration. For her. But when he learned the truth…
Misery whipped through her, and that heart that had burst back to life at his words crumbled into a pile of ash in the bottom of her stomach.
He slid his fingers along hers. “Let’s walk back before they start to wonder what happened to us. You know Lisa’s going to come looking for you if you’re gone too long.”
She swallowed hard. Normal. She needed to act normal; otherwise, she’d give herself away. To Lisa, to Thad, to anyone who might be watching. “She’s too distracted by the Puerto Rican god in there to worry about you and me.”
“Maybe,” he said with a mesmerizing grin. “Maybe not. Either way, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.” He gestured with his shoulder. “Come on.”
He wasn’t pushing her. He was giving her time to adjust to everything he’d just said. And that knowledge scared her more than anything.
Because it meant protecting her heart from him was no longer an option.
Maren slapped the schedule on the table in the Escapade’s salon the next morning. “What the hell is this?”
Her father’s hand paused from the notes he was making, and he slipped off his glasses. When he didn’t immediately answer, only looked at the paper as if he’d never seen it before, her blood pressure jumped a notch.
She’d waited until Drummer and Lisa were in the water to confront him. So far the day had been a blur, getting their first dive up and going and avoiding Thad every chance she could, but when she’d seen the posted schedule, she’d almost come unglued.
Thad was monitoring the airlift from the deck, and Patrick’s grunts were scouting different cenotes on land. She and her father were alone for the moment, and because of that she didn’t care about hiding her temper.
“Looks like the boat schedule,” he said, slipping his glasses back on.
“I can see that. I’m not a moron. What the hell did you do with it?”
“Maren,” he sighed on an exasperated breath, “considering what you told me happened in that cenote, I thought you, of all people, would be happy I’m upping security on the boat.”
“I thought you didn’t believe me. You said Thad probably got hit by a flying piece of debris and that I’d misunderstood what that woman had been yelling at us.”
He frowned. “I didn’t say that. I simply said it was possible you misinterpreted her in the middle of the storm.”
He was seriously going to act like this had something to do with what she’d seen? He hadn’t cared then, and he didn’t care now. “This is horse shit.”
He shot her his head-honcho, I’m-the-boss look. “I realize you’re not happy about this, but I’ve decided we need two people on the boat each night for security reasons. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m not about to let you and Lisa stay out here alone together. If something happens, two women aren’t going to do a whole lot to deter an intruder.”
“So pair me up with Drummer, or one of your grunts, or yourself, for that matter. Or better yet, let Lisa and her husband stay out here. I’m sure they’d love some alone time.”
When he didn’t respond, just stared at her with a blank expression, her temper skyrocketed. “Nine years ago, you never would have let me spend a night alone on a boat with Thad Leighton, and now you’re forcing us together. What the hell do you think this is going to accomplish?”
“I’m not forcing you together.” He glanced out the window, obviously trying to keep his voice low so no one would hear them. “You work well together. There’s no sense breaking up the teams just because you’re uncomfortable being around him for extended periods of time.”
“You’re damn right I’m uncomfortable.” She pressed her fingers against her temple and tried to settle the fear raging in the center of her chest. She couldn’t be alone with Thad. Not after the things he’d said to her last night. She didn’t trust herself. She dropped her hands. “I see where you’re going with this, Patrick. You’re hoping I’ll spend time with him, relent, and tell him about Isabel. Well, it won’t happen.”
“Maren—”
“I can’t believe you.” She still didn’t understand his motives, but there was no way she was playing along. “I can’t believe you’d stoop to this.”
He rose and gently laid his hands on her shoulders. “Maren, your mother and I made some grave mistakes where you and Thad were concerned.”
“What are you talking about? Mother never met him.”
A somber expression crossed his features. “There’s more to it than that, and once you and Thad get around to talking about these things, you’ll understand. I made my fair share of mistakes where you were concerned as well, and I partly blame myself you find yourself in this situation now. I didn’t want you to see him all those years ago, because I was selfish.”
She grimaced and tried to pull away.
“No,” he went on, “it’s true. And I didn’t do all I could to find him after you called and told me you were pregnant. I-I should have done more. I can’t change any of that now, but I can help try and set it right.”
She couldn’t believe he was saying this after all this time. “I don’t want to set things right. I’m fine with the way things are.” She pulled out of his arms and stepped back. “You don’t have any idea what you’re doing, Patrick. It’s just going to make things worse.”
“Well, then. On this point we’ll just have to disagree. It won’t be a major stretch for us.” His face hardened. “The schedule stays. Tomorrow Lisa and Rafe will stay on the boat. The following night, Drummer and I. Your shift is tonight.”
Maren bit back a pithy retort and stalked out of the cabin. She didn’t for one minute believe this was his way of making amends. He’d had years to do that. There was no reason for him to want to do it now. He only wanted her to relent and tell Thad about Isabel.
Well, she wasn’t doing it. She’d do everything she could to keep that secret from him now.
Hours later, screaming brought Maren’s head up.
She’d been working in the pilothouse, reviewing video they’d taken of the ocean floor, where she didn’t have to look at her father and where she didn’t have to be near Thad or make small talk with Drummer. Dropping her pencil against her notepad, she rushed through the door and looked across the deck, where an excited Lisa was pulling herself over the side of the boat.
“It was right there,” Lisa exclaimed, dropping her mask on the deck.
“What?” Maren asked, rushing up next to Drummer, who was helping Lisa upright.
“An anchor. Resting on the sand like a giant X. The storm must have shifted sediments around on the ocean floor. We didn’t even have to dig for it. The tip was sticking out between sections of coral.”
Rafe pulled himself up over the side of the boat and yanked off his mask. Breathing deeply, he sat on the edge, rested his hands on his hips, and said, “About two miles south of here. I couldn’t get a bead on size, but it’s definitely an anchor. With Spanish markings.”
A hot ball of fire formed in the middle of Maren’s belly. She looked to her father. Victory flashed in his eyes. Then her gaze slid to Thad. And his excited expression mirroring her own told her exactly what he wanted her to do next.
She rushed by Lisa. “I’ll get the gear ready.”
Thad darted for the pilothouse. “Two miles? That’s still outside territorial waters.”
Thirty minutes later, they were all grinning.
“Hot damn,” Lisa exclaimed. She turned and patted Rafe’s bare chest with both hands, then jumped up and down on her toes. “I told you, didn’t I?”
The sensors were going nuts. Maren’s excitement grew. There was definitely something down there. The depth finder was recording something big too.”
Thad was already suited up by the time Maren made her way out to the deck. “Grab your camera, Blondie.” He checked the video he was carrying. “Got your
slate and pencil?”
Maren tapped her goodie bag. “All set.”
“Map the floor around the anchor,” her father told her. “I don’t want you disturbing the sediments too much.”
He didn’t need to tell her things she already knew. She looked toward Thad, who was pulling on his own mask. “Ready?”
He shot her a devastatingly handsome grin. “With you, Blondie? Always.”
She ignored the double meaning in his words and jumped into the ocean.
Water bubbled over her head. She checked her dive watch, waited for Thad to join her, then dove deep.
If she was at all apprehensive about diving after what had happened in that cenote, she didn’t feel it now. Exhilaration over finding the ship pushed aside any lingering fear.
She scanned the area, ignoring the dancing angelfish, the jelly swimming by, the coral and anemones on the ocean floor. They swam to the coordinates, taking care to record their depth and degrees. Thad was already shooting video. Maren snapped photos of the area.
When they reached the coordinates Lisa had given them, Maren’s heart rate jumped. Rusted iron, alive with underwater sea life, peeked from beneath the sand. It was just like it had been on the screen. She let her fingertips brush the surface, the cold, hard metal grazing her hand. A jolt of adrenaline shot through her at the realization she was touching history.
She scrambled for her slate, focused on a quick sketch, marking distance in degrees and recording every detail she could manage. When Thad banged his dive knife on his tanks to get her attention, she finally looked up.
He’d swum roughly fifty yards to the southwest. And from the look on his face, he’d found something. Something big.
He motioned for her to join him. Anticipation prickling her skin, she stowed her pencil and slate and kicked to reach him. And when she did, she almost lost her regulator when her mouth dropped open.
At least two cannons covered in sea life, riggings, mounds of sand that had to be the wood of the ship, rusted pieces of iron sticking out here and there. As she scanned the wreckage, a slow smile spread across her face.
The Conquistador. Leonard’s ship. It was real, and it was here.
“He lies. All men lie…”
Maren whipped around and looked behind her. Nothing. Just water and coral and sand. But the words were there. As loud as if someone had shouted them right behind her. A chill raced down her spine.
Thad stowed his camera and touched her arm. More off-kilter than she liked, she whipped back toward him. He gestured for her to surface.
She wasn’t going crazy. She wasn’t hearing voices. They’d found the damn ship. She should be elated, not freaking the hell out.
Nodding, she kicked and broke the surface just after him. And told herself it was nothing. Just nerves. She hadn’t actually heard a woman’s voice down there.
Sunlight glinted off his rugged face when he slipped off his mask. “It’s her.”
“It is.” Excitement over what they’d found trickled back in, and she smiled. “We found her.”
“You bet your ass we did.”
He grabbed her and spun her around in the water, a deep rumble of laughter echoing from his chest. She sank into him without thinking. His strong arms closed around her, pulling her tight against his chest. The rough stubble of his cheek brushed hers, and against her chest, she felt the rapid beat of his heart. Perfectly timed with hers. As if they were meant for each other.
She blocked out the sound of that voice, closed her eyes, and reveled in the feel of him. So familiar and new at the same time. Everything she’d been missing and longing for all these empty years.
Shouts echoed from the deck of the ship, interrupting her moment of bliss. Reluctantly she pulled back and turned to look over her shoulder. The entire crew stood on deck, eagerly awaiting their confirmation.
“I guess that means playtime’s over,” Thad said. When she turned back to face him, she caught the sparkle in his eyes. “Time to get busy, Blondie.”
Time to get busy…
Like a swift slap, the words pushed out all her enjoyment and reminded her why she was really here.
The next few hours were a blur of activity. There’d been a mini-celebration on deck with a six-pack of beer and a lot of dancing around, but then they’d gotten right to work.
Patrick had insisted on suiting up and seeing the cannons for himself. While he and Thad had gone down to record the pre-disturbance survey, Drummer had begun taking video and photographing the site.
Lisa and Maren debated excavation techniques. They’d be using an airlift, sifting through debris, creating trenches, and retrieving artifacts. Lisa was intent on not disturbing the sedimentary layers and wanted to work horizontally with a metal caisson to excavate stratigraphically, but at this shallow depth, barely sixty feet below the surface, much of what had accumulated over the past two hundred years would be changed due to tidal flows, storms, and currents. It would also be time-consuming and costly to use the metal caisson, and Maren finally swayed her friend toward her way of thinking.
When Maren found Thad and Patrick on the deck of the Escapade late that afternoon, her excitement over their discovery had regained momentum. It could be weeks, even months or years, before they found La Malinche—if the relic was even onboard the Conquistador, and that was still a big if. A possibility Maren was starting to think might not be a bad one in the long term. Mind spinning, she headed toward the bow of the ship where the two were in deep conversation.
Patrick scanned the water with his binoculars. “Word’s going to spread fast once we start excavating. Can’t hide the airlift or the cloud. Great big flag for anyone who’s watching what we’re up to.”
Thad took the binoculars and looked toward shore. “Treasure hunters and sightseers will get interested.”
Patrick rested a hand on his hip in the late fading sunlight and looked toward Thad. “You’re worried about Declan.”
Maren’s heart lurched into her throat, and her feet drew to a stop.
Thad lowered the binoculars. “So far he doesn’t seem the least bit interested in what’s going on out here, but that’ll change when he finds out we located the ship.”
Patrick spotted Maren, and his expression softened as he turned her way. “Ah, Maren. We were just discussing marking the wreck.”
Maren swallowed back the guilt lodged in her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. Just stay away, Evan. If they never found the relic, then she wouldn’t have to betray the people in front of her. Thad wouldn’t hate her. And she could go on pretending that the things he’d said to her last night might actually be real.
“Um, Lisa and I are just about done. She and Drummer are checking equipment and refilling tanks so we’re ready to go tomorrow.”
“Good.” Patrick smiled. “We’ll have a full crew on board tomorrow to work the artifacts and conglomerate brought up. We’ll let the grunts do most of the chip work, and you can oversee the cleaning and restoration.”
She nodded and glanced from her father to Thad. Unease settled over her. Thad was watching her with those intense, curious eyes.
Shaking her hair back, she worked up a smile she didn’t feel. “Well, I have a few more things I want to do. I’ll see you tomorrow, Patrick.”
She turned for the salon, but Thad caught up with her, his hand on her arm stopping her. “Hey, everything okay?”
“What?” She didn’t stop walking. Knew if she did, she might break, and knowing she was spending the night alone with the man, she couldn’t break. At least not mentally. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Great, actually. We found the Conquistador. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”
She ducked into the salon, leaving Thad standing on the deck. But before she disappeared, she was sure she heard him mutter, “So why aren’t you?”
Thad waited until the rest of the group headed back to camp before he went searching for Maren.
They’d sailed the Escapade back to shore and docked at the ma
rina. After tying off the boat and making sure it was secure for the night, he stowed what was left of his gear and drew a deep breath.
A night with Maren. No storm, no explosions, and no crazy person. Just the two of them. Alone. Until morning.
Anticipation curled in his gut and spread through his limbs.
He moved into the cabin and down the few stairs in the main salon. Nerves in his chest and belly hummed when he found Maren sitting at the long worktable in the middle of the room, wearing cutoff denim shorts and a fitted ribbed black tank that showcased her curves. Her long blonde hair fell down her back, and when she tipped her head and glanced at the sketch pad in front of her, a lock fell across her face. She brushed it back and scribbled in her notebook, then looked at the slate to her right and went back to sketching.
God, she was beautiful. Slim. Fit. Curvy in places she hadn’t been before. And his. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d always be his.
As if she sensed him, she looked up and glanced toward the doorway. A nervous expression crossed her features before she went back to her notepad. And for some reason, it relaxed him.
“All done up there?” she asked.
“Yep.” He moved farther into the room. “Everything’s locked down for the night. It’s just you and me, Blondie.”
Her pencil paused, just a fraction of a second, but he saw it. And warmth bloomed in his chest. She was as nervous as he was. That was a good sign.
He moved behind her, stepped close, and peered over her shoulder at the sketch of the cannons she’d been working on. Her body heat and the sweet scent of pomegranates rose up around him. “I forgot how versatile you were with a pencil.” He sat next to her and flipped through the other sketches she’d done of the camp, the cenote, even the Escapade.
She shrugged. “It comes in handy.”