boy stared at him in confusion.
“Do you have a comms system?” Brady demanded.
“Sir?”
Assuming his sternest stare, he grated out, “Take me to the tank entrance.”
“But you’re not allowed—”
“I’m a friend of Olivia Smith’s.” That was a stretch, but a necessary one. “She needs assistance. Now.”
His Adam’s apple bobbing, he abandoned the queue of customers and jogged up the ramp. “This way.”
As they dodged curious guests, Brady found himself praying for the woman he’d spent months mentally maligning. Olivia’s in trouble, Lord. Please help her. For Derek’s sake.
They entered an employee-only stairwell and raced to the top level. Bursting into a room containing large plastic tubs stocked with tiny fish and glass jars hooked to tubes, the boy led him through a second door that opened onto a walkway surrounding the enormous tank.
A short, curly-haired man standing at a dry-erase board printed with feeding schedules frowned at them.
“Leon, why did you abandon your post?” He studied Brady. “This area is restricted, sir. You’ll have to return to the guest viewing area.”
Brady bent over the railing and searched in vain for a glimpse of her. “Olivia’s down there with malfunctioning equipment. She’s running out of air.”
Below the rippling surface, schools of fish swam in formation, oblivious to the disturbance at the bottom.
The sky was Brady’s domain, not the water. But he’d brave the deep blue if it meant saving Derek’s widow. He headed to the dive dock. The other man was retrieving a wet suit, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. Didn’t he realize every second mattered?
Spotting a second diver, Brady made a split-second decision. He shucked off his jacket and placed his cell in the folds. Then he jumped in and, ignoring the shouts of protest behind him, sliced through the water to her side. The other diver was near the surface, but on the far side of the tank. It seemed to take forever to reach her. Behind the mask, her eyes went wide.
He grabbed her arm and gestured to the bottom. At first, she didn’t respond. Frustrated, Brady started to tow her along with him. Finally, she seemed to understand, because she wrestled free, gestured for him to return to the dock and then darted toward the reef formations.
Straining for air, he returned to the surface and a flurry of activity.
“Come out of there at once!” The curly-headed man looked as if he’d like to feed Brady to the sharks, while Leon’s expression was frozen in horror.
The realization of what he’d done registered. He was in a tank with multiple creatures that might decide he’d make a tasty snack. They were used to the aquarium staff sharing their habitat, but a random guy who had scant knowledge about their feeding preferences or behaviors? Focusing on the dock, he wasted no time getting there.
Water sluiced down his body onto the metal grid beneath his sodden tennis shoes. While the older man read him the riot act, he scanned the water for Olivia.
Would the other diver reach her in time?
“Good, security’s here. You’re going to be escorted off the premises, sir.”
Movement beside him belatedly registered, and he looked up into the grim visage of the security guard.
“You’ll need to come with me, Mr.—”
“It’s Captain Johnson. Look, I know I broke a rule of some sort, and I apologize. I will leave without a fuss, but first I need to see that Olivia is all right.”
The guard’s nostrils flared, and he rested his hand on the weapon at his hip. “You will leave now.”
Brady hadn’t ever been arrested or spent a night in jail. The prospect hadn’t even occurred to him. Now he found himself debating the cost of his actions. He wasn’t leaving until Olivia was out of that tank.
“I see them!” Leon shouted.
Brady spotted the two divers. The brunette was assisting Olivia through the water and sharing her air with her. The fact she was conscious was a good sign, but he couldn’t give in to relief just yet.
A hand clamped on to his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Can’t he stay a little longer?” Leon piped up. “He’s friends with Olivia.”
The man in charge—James, according to his name badge—eyed Brady with skepticism. “How do you know her?”
“She was married to a pilot friend of mine.” A trivial label for the friendship that had saved his career, and possibly even his life. Grief, that terrible companion that caught him unawares and threatened hard-won control, slammed into him again.
“You knew Derek?”
He cleared his throat. “We met in flight school.”
James nodded to the guard, who retreated to the railing with a disgusted scowl. The group returned their attention to the divers, who appeared to stop every few feet and tread water. When the pair finally reached the dock, he put a hand beneath Olivia’s arm and helped her out of the water.
“Brady.” Once on her feet, she shifted out of his grip, removed her eye mask and peeled the wet strands off her face. He noticed her hands were trembling. “How did you get up here?”
“Leon brought me. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her rich brown eyes told another tale. The incident had shaken her. Her nose crinkled. “Why are you wet?”
Leon grinned. “He jumped in to help you.”
Her jaw sagged. “You did what?”
Olivia’s disbelief was to be expected. He’d frozen her out, not taking pains to hide his suspicions that she was using Derek to perpetuate a fantasy. He’d seen it all too often...local girls who painted pilots in a glamorous light and thought they could achieve a Top Gun dream life. She’d had Derek talking marriage after a week. That wasn’t a sign of an authentic bond. It was the sign of a campaign launched to dazzle and distract.
“What happened down there?”
“Regulator free-flow.” Seeing his lifted brows, she amended, “The gas started discharging from my cylinder. My regulator malfunctioned.”
James turned to her. “Didn’t they teach you how to handle that in dive school?”
“They did.” Olivia’s black brows pulled together. “It hasn’t happened to me before, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry for worrying the guests.” Tugging off her fingerless gloves, she looked at Brady. “Did I frighten the little girl?”
“Her mother distracted her.”
“What about your backup?” James
