have your bags sent down, doc.”
SEVERAL HOURS LATER they were finally underway, heading for the open sea. Later than Knox had wanted because of a few logistical snags...including hauling all six of Dr. Walsh’s suitcases onto the ship.
Had the woman packed her entire wardrobe? What did she expect to need on a ship in the middle of the Caribbean?
He’d thought about opening every one of her bags and rifling through—with the intent to toss any heels, pearls or matching pantsuits he found along the way—but had decided his blood pressure probably couldn’t take the exercise.
Besides, he’d figured his time would be better spent looking for something that would tell him what she was hiding. Although, he didn’t do that either.
Avery had disappeared into the cabin she’d been assigned, which she had to herself despite their already cramped quarters since the only other woman on the ship, their cook, had quarters right off the galley. So far, she hadn’t resurfaced. Not even for dinner or to meet the crew.
They were all going to be working together for the next few weeks. The least she could have done was introduce herself and pass around a smile.
Trident had been open for a little over two years, but even though they were a relatively new business, and quite a few of the crew had only recently been hired on, they were a tight-knit group.
Maybe it was a legacy from their time in the Teams, but Asher, Jackson and Knox had worked hard at building camaraderie and a sense of family with their employees. As soldiers, they’d depended on each other for their lives. While they no longer worked with bullets flying, you had to trust that the guy beside you knew what he was doing and could competently and quickly complete his job, freeing you up to do the same.
They worked hard, and they played hard. When jobs required 24/7 commitment and living in tight quarters, it was sometimes just as important to blow off steam together.
Rather than wallow in irritation, Knox had come up on deck to try and calm down. The quiet shush against the hull as the Amphitrite cut through the water would normally have been enough to accomplish that. But not tonight. What he really needed was a spin behind the wheel of his Shelby, but that wasn’t in the cards.
Tonight he was restless, the first time he’d felt that way since leaving the Teams. Somehow, after living through more life-and-death situations than he cared to count, not even the stress of owning his own business made him uneasy.
There was something about this whole adventure, though, that didn’t sit right with him. Not just having Avery aboard. But the allegations McNair was making.
In his gut, Knox knew this was an attempt to grab their work. This had to be McNair’s play to claim the wreckage and treasure for himself. When Trident had announced that the Chimera had been found, there was a frenzy of interest, rumors of gold heading for the Confederate States a huge media draw.
They’d already been approached by a documentary crew from a major science channel interested in recording the process of salvaging and preserving the wreckage. Kennedy was currently working to get the details for that project in place.
McNair was simply one of the sharks that had swum out of the depths.
But unlike the others, he was causing serious problems.
Knox wasn’t going to let McNair’s claims derail their plans for the Chimera. And, unfortunately, Avery Walsh was a major part of solving the issues plaguing them. So he needed to take Asher’s advice—bite his tongue around the maddening woman and let her do her job.
While keeping a sharp eye on everything she did.
The sooner she completed her task, the sooner she could be off his ship. And the sooner they could get back to business as usual. He could return to the uncomplicated existence he’d enjoyed for the past two years.
That was what he wanted.
Uncomplicated. Unhurried. A life doing what he’d come to love—spending his time in warm, tropical waters—with two of his best friends.
After the turmoil of the past sixteen years, he deserved a break.
Knox stared out across the vast expanse of open water. It was calm, smooth this far from any shore. It always managed to make him feel small and insignificant. For some people that might be frightening, but for Knox it was reassuring. Knowing that he was one teeny, tiny piece in a gigantic whole helped to take some of the pressure away. Not everything was his fault or responsibility.
Sometimes that lesson was difficult to remember.
As he usually did whenever the stars winked on for the first time at night and he happened to be in a position to see them, he looked up. Picking one out, he closed his eyes and murmured a few words to his big brother. About his life, his day—good and bad.
He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t hear anyone approach until a soft voice murmured beside him.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Jerking his gaze down, Knox stared for several seconds at Avery.
She wasn’t close. There was at least three feet of railing between them. Although it didn’t matter. His body reacted as if she’d whispered those words straight into his ear, as if the warmth of her breath had tickled across his skin.
Knox tamped down his reaction, controlling it as he’d learned to ruthlessly control everything else. Desire, just like pain, could be ignored.
And he had every intention of ignoring any reaction Dr. Walsh stirred within him.
At some point she’d changed clothes, probably into what she considered casual wear. Sure, she was in shorts, but they were linen and looked damned expensive. She’d paired them with a gauzy top in fading shades of blue and fussy sandals with straps that crisscrossed up her calves. And the damn pearls—although this strand was longer than the ones earlier, and swayed between her breasts.
She’d pulled her flame-red hair up into some kind of bun thing at the back of her head that managed to look both sophisticated and complicated. Not to mention tight enough to give her a headache. Knox just wanted to mess it up.
For the briefest moment, he contemplated whether or not to tell her a few strands had escaped the tight confines and were curling to trail down her neck and face. He decided not to, mostly because he knew she’d immediately try to tame them back.
As far as he was concerned, those wisps of red were the best thing about her outfit.
“What?” he finally asked when he realized he’d been staring at her a little too long.
“The stars, they’re gorgeous. It’s one of the best things about being on the open water. So bright. No matter where my family was, or how foreign our home felt, the stars were always the same. I could look up into the sky, and even from our first night in a new city or village, I’d feel centered.”
Her statement struck him as sad, wistful in a way that tugged at him. And curious.
“You
