Under the Surface. Kira Sinclair

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Under the Surface - Kira Sinclair

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thought or glance back.

      Sometimes reality wasn’t fun. That didn’t make it any less true. And everyone had to learn to deal with the dirty truth. He certainly had. Loralei would survive learning that her old man wasn’t who she thought he’d been.

      Or she’d reveal that she was just like him.

      Either way, he’d at least know where he stood with Lancaster Diving and could plan his next move accordingly.

      “Leave,” she said finally, her lips barely moving on the low, menacing word.

      Pushing slowly out of the booth, Jackson did as she’d asked. He watched her take a deep, calming breath as the space between them grew. He understood the instinct, felt the urge to clear her from his own lungs so that he could think again.

      Instead, he stood at the end of her table and stared down at her.

      “Think about what I said, Loralei. Your dad didn’t get all my research, so the chances are you won’t be looking in the right location. You’re wasting time and money. And if my information is correct, you can’t afford either right now.”

      * * *

      LORALEI WATCHED THE brute of a man walk away from her. Her mind spun drunkenly, as if she’d had several of those damn drinks instead of a few measly sips before wasting good alcohol to soak his head.

      She assumed Jack was short for Jackson Duchane, one of the owners of Trident. Brian had told her something about each of them. If she’d been paying attention and not trying to drown her neuroses in alcohol she might have clued in to who he was before giving him the chance to humiliate her.

      Just remembering the way her body had reacted to him sent a wave of embarrassment across her skin. Great. Just what she needed.

      The things he’d said about her dad... They’d hurt.

      Could they be true? She’d always thought of her father as a big, distant, honorable guy. On the few occasions he’d come inland and spent time with her, he’d always admonished her to be a good girl. A good person. Stay away from drugs. Don’t let boys pressure you into doing anything stupid. Follow the Ten Commandments. Listen to your grandparents.

      What part of those rules allowed him to steal from Jackson Duchane and his partners?

      None of them.

      But she was old enough to realize parents sometimes said one thing and did another. She’d just never gotten that impression with her own father. Not that he’d been around enough for her to really know.

      And that was the damn kicker.

      She couldn’t look Jackson in the eye and call him a liar because she didn’t know.

      Her gut told her it was possible. Lancaster Diving was in serious financial trouble. And, according to Brian, her dad had blamed Trident for that situation. If that was the case, would he have felt justified in bending the rules?

      Possibly. Probably.

       Damn it!

      So, what the hell was she going to do? She’d put all of her eggs in this one basket. This salvage was her salvation. Their salvation. All the guys who’d spent their lives following her father around the world, taking jobs wherever they had to in order to make a living.

      She couldn’t ask Brian if what Jackson said was true. He’d probably just lie to her.

      Or maybe it wouldn’t be a lie.

      If her father had stolen from them, why hadn’t Trident pressed charges?

      Because they couldn’t prove it.

      Sitting there alone in the booth, Loralei came to a stunning realization. The asshole was playing mind games. He knew they were after the same treasure, and he was trying to cut her off at the pass. Convince her to walk away before the fight had started.

      What irked her even more was that he’d used his beautiful body, dangerous charm and sex appeal to do it. He hadn’t hesitated to crowd into her personal space, kiss the hell out of her and get her all flustered before dropping his verbal bomb.

      Dirty, nasty fighting.

      And she’d fallen for it.

      But she wouldn’t again. Nope. Next time she’d be prepared for Jackson Duchane. Maybe she’d turn the tables, give him a dose of his own medicine.

      She smiled gleefully. This was going to be fun.

      More fun than she’d ever expected when she’d boarded the plane for a damn island.

      * * *

      JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH, what had she been thinking?

      Loralei crept across the deck of Jackson Duchane’s ship. She hadn’t intended to board the ship when she’d come to the marina but...

      Honestly, she had no idea what she’d intended. Opportunity had presented itself. She’d been watching the ship, trying to get a feel for Jackson’s setup and crew. One thing was for sure, his equipment was better than theirs.

      Loralei tamped down a brief spurt of jealousy mixed with anger. Of course his equipment was better. He was taking all of their work and money.

      As she’d loitered, the entire crew had left the ship. She wasn’t certain where they were going at twenty minutes before midnight, but she honestly didn’t care.

      The ship was empty.

      And it was a chance she couldn’t pass up.

      So she was standing on Jackson’s ship, the deck rolling beneath her feet as she attempted to gain control of the panic welling up in her chest.

      Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

      Loralei pulled her gaze from the water. Her legs were stiff, knees refusing to bend as she shuffled toward the doorway that led down into even more darkness.

      But at least she was inside.

      The ship was huge, much bigger than hers. Amphitrite had been painted along the side in bold, curling letters. The boat clearly had been named for the Greek goddess of the sea and wife of Poseidon. She was definitely more modern, though, with a high-tech bridge and sonar system.

      Since Loralei didn’t know enough about either, she steered clear of both, creeping farther down the darkened hallway. She passed several closed doors, paused to open a few. They appeared to be sleeping berths. The last room opened to an office of sorts.

      Papers were spread across a large table that was bolted to the floor. Moving forward, Loralei sifted through them. It took her several moments to realize they were maps of islands. Not Turks and Caicos, but possibly the smaller islands dotting the water around?

      She flipped through several, unsure what she was looking at. For the first time, she wished she’d paid more attention when her dad had tried to teach her about some of this stuff. But considering her phobia, it had seemed a waste of time.

      And

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