3
“YOU KNOW WE can’t trust her, right?”
Up on deck, the early-morning air seeped beneath his thin T-shirt, making goose bumps pearl across his skin. The sun, rising low in the sky, flowed off the smooth surface of the water surrounding them. It was funny how mornings like this could remind him of similar moments he’d spent in the desert, the light glaring off sand instead.
Knox, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, shot Asher a sharp glare. “Pretty sure I said that weeks ago, right after we interviewed her.”
Leaning against the railing, Asher raised a single eyebrow. “Yeah, but you said it because you have a problem with her. I’m saying it because something about this whole thing stinks.”
“Oh, you mean like McNair slithering out from whatever rock he lives under to claim the wreck isn’t really the Chimera?”
“He wants the gold. And apparently he’s got enough connections to make a play. I don’t trust McNair.”
No joke. The man was slick and charming. The kind of perfect that made you think the veneer could crack at any moment to reveal the truth underneath.
“Avery and McNair are connected.”
“So you noticed the inordinate amount of glee McNair was woefully inept at covering when we announced she’d been hired?”
“Oh, yeah. And the way, after weeks of delays, the Bahamian government agreed to the US court’s decision, letting the paperwork sail through the minute Dr. Walsh signed on to the project.”
Knox had put two and two together, coming to an answer he didn’t like. For multiple reasons. He’d called in several favors, but none of his contacts had been able to find a concrete connection between McNair and Avery. It was there, though. He just knew it.
The whole situation left him uneasy. As if he was walking into hostile territory with no idea which direction the bullets might fly from.
Something about Avery worked under his skin, itching and irritating until he wanted to pick at it. Pick at her. Annoying her could quickly become his favorite hobby out here on the open sea with nothing else to occupy his time and mind.
It was either that or crowd her against the closest hard surface and kiss the fire out of her. Something he’d nearly done last night.
That damn robe she’d been wearing was designed to entice a man. The way it had brushed against the tops of her bare thighs, clung to the curves of her breasts...and the fact that she hadn’t put it on for that reason only made the appeal more difficult to ignore.
He’d had a hard time reconciling the vision of the woman who’d shared a beer with him and the professional, put-together executive type who had walked on to his ship hours earlier.
Avery was competent, intelligent and good at her job. But last night he’d realized she was also more complex than he’d thought and surprisingly introverted.
He was still struggling with that revelation. Considering their first encounter had involved her yelling at him for his stupidity, he would have expected that to be the last adjective he’d ever use to describe her. There’d been nothing shy about her that afternoon.
And while he’d been attracted to the cool, collected Avery, something about the small chink of vulnerability she’d revealed last night made her even more appealing.
It had been difficult walking away from her.
Knox was blaming his reaction on the three beers he’d indulged in before she arrived. Although he hadn’t even had a decent buzz going.
From his vantage point across the room, he’d watched her walk out, the roll of her hips a metronome begging him to pursue. But he’d forced himself to stay put and enjoy the party with his crew.
Asher leaned against the railing, pulling Knox back into the conversation. Hell, the woman wasn’t even here and she was distracting him. This wasn’t good.
“All I’m saying is you should drag out those rusty surveillance skills to keep an eye on her. Or, hell, that charm you’re famous for. I’ve noticed it’s been decidedly AWOL since Dr. Walsh arrived.”
“There’s nothing rusty about my skills,” Knox said, popping Asher in the shoulder.
“Keep her close.” The twinkle in Asher’s eyes and his lifted brow clearly suggesting just how he thought Knox should accomplish that objective.
* * *
“WE’RE JUST RUNNING sonar to ensure the wreck hasn’t shifted since the last time we were down. Given what happened to Jackson the first time he entered the Chimera—”
“If she is the Chimera,” Avery interjected. Knox ignored her, although the way his eyes narrowed at the edges suggested her statement had registered.
“—there’s really no reason for you to come with me.”
He had to be joking. There was no way she was letting him close to that wreck without her. Who knew what the cowboy might decide to do if she wasn’t there to rein him in? He said he had no intention of going down, but once he was on that boat away from the ship, she had no guarantee.
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Suit yourself, doc.”
Avery refused to rise to the bait. He was doing it on purpose, but she was going to be the bigger person.
They loaded the sonar equipment on to one of the smaller boats the crew kept. A half an hour later they were heading out to the location of the wreckage.
And Avery had to admit to the bubbling euphoria rippling through her chest.
She loved her job. It was amazing to help recover and preserve pieces of history that had been lost for ages. She’d seen pictures of the wreckage, haunting as it stood silent and still beneath the water.
But there was no way the photos could be as impressive as the site itself. She wanted to see it. The need was a physical pressure inside her chest, that drive to be down there with the memories and history so perfectly preserved by the cold, dark water.
There was nothing like the peace she always found beneath the surface. Something that often eluded her up in the air.
The Amphitrite was anchored quite a way from the site for safety reasons. They wanted to be well clear of the wreckage so that they minimized the potential for disturbances, especially since she rested so close to the edge of the ravine and had already shown signs of instability.
They were going to have to get closer eventually, but for now protocol dictated they visit the area as little as possible. They approached the site, Knox throttling down as he turned the sonar equipment on and began to take readings of the seabed beneath them. She had enough experience to read the data spilling back at them and identify the dramatic depth difference where the rocky ledge the Chimera rested on dropped off.
Her heartbeat sped as the outline of the wreckage appeared
