Alive at 5 (Entangled Ignite)

by Linda Bond

  “We don’t have a next move. I’m cave diving in about fifteen minutes.”

  “George is going with you.”

  “No, he’s not.” Zack’s eyes flashed as he spoke, and he crossed his arms over his chest in a manner that left nothing open for interpretation. “I don’t dive with amateurs.”

  “He’s not an amateur.” Swallow. Take a breath. “Will you stop challenging me and play along?” She fumbled for a place to hide her agitated fingers.

  His big hands covered hers. His fingers were warm and his grip firm. “Play along with your rules, right?”

  Damn it. The butterflies were dancing in her stomach again. What was she, fifteen? She freed herself from the heated cocoon of his hold. “Don’t take this so personally. We’re partners on a mission.” This time she forced herself to stare him down.

  The air between them popped with electricity.

  “When you look at me like that, it makes this personal.” He inhaled again, this time so slowly she knew it was for effect. “Lavender. I like it. Very sexy.”

  Her shoulders dropped. Of course he’d come back with an inappropriate comment like that. Yet, she had splashed on lavender body spray earlier that morning, knowing she would see him. “Don’t flirt with me. We’ve got a serious job to do here. To find a murderer.”

  “Okay, problem solved.”

  Sam jumped. She hadn’t heard George return. Behind his camera now, her photographer reattached the battery.

  Silence hovered over the three of them, like a blanket of suffocating humidity. She shifted on the bench, rubbing her forearms, hoping heat and friction would force the baby fine hair on her skin to settle back down.

  The red light on the front of the camera blinked. “Let’s take it from the top,” George placed his right eye behind the viewfinder.

  “Mind if I listen?”

  Sam turned toward the approaching voice. Monica had strolled over and now towered over her. Great. “Of course not.” Sam gritted her teeth while plastering on a smile. “But you’ll have to stand behind George.”

  “Excuse me?” Monica drew back.

  “So you won’t be in the camera shot.” She pointed to where she wanted the vacation manager to stand. As Monica walked by, a wave of jasmine assaulted Sam. Apparently, she hadn’t been the only one who’d splashed on body spray this morning. She made a disgusted sound under her breath.

  “Let’s do it.” Now they had to make this look real. Turning to face Zack, Sam suddenly realized the chemistry of the moment had stopped her anxiety from building. She was nervous, but it felt different today. “So, cave diving is inherently dangerous. Why do it?”

  He cocked his head and grinned like Tom Cruise in Top Gun. “I’m an adventurer.”

  Those simple words ignited heat in her belly. Or maybe it was that confident smile. She licked her lips.

  “I want to explore the unknown,” he continued, looking right into her eyes. “To seek out what I’ve never explored before. I want to run my fingers down a virgin passage, squeeze through a small opening. I may get stuck a few times, move back and forth, and work my way through, you know, into this mysterious place where I’ve never been. It’s magical.”

  Oh. My. God. She took a deep breath, her heart drumming like tiny, nervous fingertips. He was just playing with her. She had to remember that.

  “There’s no audience, no crowd.” He motioned to the sinkhole. “It’s your own personal achievement. The ultimate pleasure.”

  She started to ask a question. “But—”

  He cut her off. “I’m a man who loves beauty.”

  His gaze bathed her again, warming her with its intensity.

  “Very few people can say they’ve seen the light as it breaks through crevices in the rock, painting an underwater cave in a rainbow of colors.” He closed his eyes, the vision in his mind obviously blissful enough to raise his lips into a smile. “There are no computers, no phones, no interruptions.” He opened his eyes and stared deep into hers. “Do you know what I do when I’m in an unexplored cavern?”

  Her heart pounded loud enough in the silent pause she was sure her microphone would pick up the beat. “What?” She held her breath.

  “I leave my fingerprints all over the new territory, marking it as mine forever.”

  She exhaled. Jesus, he’s good. She glanced over at Monica, who had a dreamy look on her face. An idea struck her. If Zack Hunter could make her own guarded heart race, then he could probably seduce Monica with little effort. Maybe he could get the vacation manager to tell him everything she knew about the X-Force Adventure Vacation Company. Including the dirt.

  “No more questions?” Amusement filled Zack’s voice. His gaze bounced back and forth between her and Monica.

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Just one. Does that crap always work for you?”

  He blinked. Then he barked out a laugh. “Yeah. Usually.”

  “Amazing.” She stood. She wasn’t going to end up like Monica, quick to fall under his spell. She had his number. He was definitely a player. “No more questions right now. But I reserve the right to ask more after your dive with George.” She emphasized the last two words.

  Zack lifted his chin, but he said nothing.

  George switched off the video cam. “Whoa, that shit was much better.”

  Why the hell was George grinning at her? A quick, bright flash startled her and made her stumble and drop back onto the bench, her body inadvertently colliding with Zack’s. Her muscles tensed.

  “Perfect. I want to get a photograph of you two together,” a new voice interrupted, this one male.

  Sam looked up. The X-Force Vacation Company photographer stood a few feet away, snapping shots of her and Zack.

  “Sorry, because you’re back lit I have to use the flash.”

  He was a short, balding guy, and easy to miss if not for the company T-shirt, the camera, and the annoying flash that followed him everywhere.

  “Can you two move closer together? And smile, please. It’s for the X-Force website.”

  Zack’s arm snaked around her waist. In one strong, fluid movement, he slid her body tight to his.

  She willed herself not to react, even though the heat of him seemed to melt her skin.

  His breath warmed her ear. “Follow my lead, so no one gets hurt,” he whispered. “We may be in the company of a killer, remember?”

  She forced herself to smile and nod.

  He moved one hand down to a sensitive area at her waist. She suddenly couldn’t breathe. His fingers grazed her skin and she flinched as he gently tickled her. What the heck!

  The flash went off again.

  “That’s it. Thanks.” The photographer stepped away, his attention on his camera.

  Zack’s hot gaze burned through her.

  Sam shot to her feet and walked a few steps away, trying to regain her composure. She couldn’t look at him because she couldn’t believe the effect he was having on her.

  “Let me pack up real quick, and I’ll be ready to change into my dive gear,” George’s voice boomed, eagerness lighting up his expression.

  He flipped his camera off the tripod and sprinted to their TV truck in the parking lot, his gawky gait impaired by the camera swinging at his side.

  She peeked at Zack to see if he was going to protest again, but Monica had walked up to him, and they were engaged in conversation. Sam took a step closer so she could listen.

  “What a great interview. I’ve never heard anyone describe cave diving with more color or passion.” Monica placed a hand on his arm. “Your interview will be great advertising for our company. I’ll put it up on our website.”

  Of course she would.

  But only if Sam gave her permission to use the footage. She smiled to herself.

  Zack whispered something to Monica and the young woman grinned and nodded, glancing at Sam.

  Embarrassed at being caught watching them, she turned away and helped gather the rest of George’s equipment. She fought the ur
ge to glance at Zack again. But the need to know tugged at her, and she lost the battle within seconds. When she looked up, Monica was walking away and Zack was two steps from Sam’s side. She stood taller. “What did Monica say to you?”

  He shook his head. “You’re always asking questions.”

  “And you’re always avoiding answers.”

  “I told her I’d take her diving tomorrow.”

  “Really?” For some inexplicable reason, Sam’s chest burned at the thought. “You said earlier you don’t dive with amateurs.”

  “She’s not an amateur.”

  Oh. Right. “To question her more about the deaths?” she asked to cover her embarrassment.

  “You can’t actually talk underwater.” He grinned.

  Clenching her jaw, she said, “Funny.”

  He chuckled softly. “Yes, of course to dig for information. That’s why we’re both here, right?”

  So he’d finally admitted it. Enough of his playing around. “Who do you work for?”

  “I’m a rich, arrogant egomaniac, remember?” he drawled. “I couldn’t possibly work for a living.”

  She leaned into his space. “Don’t you think I have the right to know?” She couldn’t stop her fingers from fidgeting. He was getting to her. “You know who I work for.”

  “Maybe I work for myself.”

  “And maybe you don’t.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “I need to know I can trust you.”

  “One has nothing to do with the other. You can trust me.”

  She wanted to scream. His words tangled her up with frustration. Getting anything out of him was harder than figuring out a damn Rubik’s cube. “I’ve been a reporter for a long time. I usually read people quickly, but you’re a real mystery.”

  “Don’t try to solve the mystery of me.” He patted her on the back like a little sister, which only made her blood pressure rise. “Stick to your original game plan. Find clues that someone killed Maxwell Wentworth. That’s a goal we both share.”

  His eyes always had such intensity behind them. What was behind all that passion? She had to know. All in good time. Taking a deep breath, she made an earnest appeal. “Please watch out for George.”

  “I’m not diving with George.” Zack balled both fists. “I told you that. I work alone. Always.” He gave her a quick salute and headed toward the ridge above the Orange Grove Sink.

  She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until a tap on her shoulder startled her, and an exhale whooshed out.

  “Do you want to see the pictures?”

  She spun around. “Oh, hi.” Her hand clutched reflexively at her chest as she willed her heart to slow down again. It was just the X-Force photographer. “Sure. Are they good?”

  The bald man smiled at her like a shy schoolboy. “You take a great picture.” He held out the digital camera in front of her.

  Zack’s smile took up most of the shot, but hey, it was a nice smile. She relaxed her shoulders.

  “Do you think his dive will bring up bad memories?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  The small man was standing a bit too close now. “Zack’s dive.” Wide-eyed, he shuffled even closer to her. “Don’t you think it’s odd he wants to do this?”

  “Why?” She took a step away from him. “Isn’t this what he’s paying for?”

  The little creep followed her, moving into her personal space. “You know Zack’s uncle died last year on a dive in this same cave, right?”

  His revelation sucked the air right out of her. It was like a vacuum had been attached to her mouth, and he had flipped on the switch. She started to flush, despite having felt a chill just a moment ago. “No. I didn’t know.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

  So am I. Her shock at hearing the news must be splashed all over her face. She struggled to school her features. “Um. Why would he? I doubt he wants to talk about it on camera.”

  She searched out Zack, but he was concentrating on his preparations for the underwater cave dive, and didn’t notice her. Well, this explained his interest in Maxwell’s accident scene, and his reason for investigating the so-called accidents happening on the adventure trips in the first place.

  “Yeah, I was shooting pictures last year when his uncle dove the sink with three other vacationers. He never surfaced.”

  “That’s terrible.” She would have to call Stuart to confirm this information and find out what he knew about Zack’s dead uncle. That had to be the wealthy guy from New York that Stuart had referred to.

  The X-Force vacation photographer shook his head. “They found his body trapped in one of the underwater tunnels. Such a shame. The man was still in his prime. Fifty-five, I think.”

  She put a hand to his shoulder and firmly backed him away from her, sending what she hoped was a definitive message.

  “Do you know his name?” she asked. Why wouldn’t Zack have told her this very important detail? They’d had plenty of time alone to share information. And why was this creep dishing out Zack’s family dirt to her?

  He shook his head thoughtfully. “Can’t remember, but I can look it up for you.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.”

  “You really didn’t know?” The photographer placed his hand on her arm, as if to comfort her.

  “No, but hey, he’s not my friend or anything.” Her stomach rolled. “I’m just a reporter here to do a story on him.”

  The photographer watched her with a question in his gaze. “Yeah, I guess. But, if I were a reporter, I’d wonder what else he hadn’t told me. And why.”

  No kidding.

  And as soon as she could get rid of the little weirdo, she intended to ask Zack exactly that.

  Chapter Five

  Staring at the cement staircase leading down into the murky Orange Grove Sink, a sense of dread clawed at Zack’s gut. After more than a year of not diving, the uncomfortable cramping proved he was still nervous about going under.

  The last time he’d taken a dive, he’d been working, looking for a missing kid who’d gone under jet skiing off Florida’s west coast.

  He and his police partner had been searching in the Gulf, off St. Petersburg, when his coworker’s gear had malfunctioned and he’d drowned. A sour taste lingered in the back of Zack’s throat. He hadn’t been paying attention when his buddy had failed to keep up with him. He couldn’t stop blaming himself for not backing up his partner.

  On the heels of that unfortunate accident, his uncle had died diving in this very sink.

  Right now, as he stared down at the rippling surface below the rocky edge, the muddiness of the water mirrored his thoughts, and he wondered if it would be safer for everyone if he stayed topside.

  No. He had to see this through. For his uncle. And for his own peace of mind.

  He adjusted his regulator, and descended into the Orange Grove Sink in his scuba gear, moving slowly and deliberately until the chilly water covered his head and he could swim freely. The rhythmic sound of his breathing and the chill of the water began to lull him into a numb state.

  Which was exactly what he needed right now.

  Drifting down through the water, his thoughts traveled back to days when he’d gone diving with his uncle. His heart began to beat faster as the sunlight from above dimmed and the water around him grew darker, matching his memories. The light strapped around his head and a handheld flashlight guided him.

  His uncle used to sneak him away from his father in order to give him a break from the constant verbal and physical abuse. Jackson knew this incredibly different world would give him hope. His eyes watered behind his mask, but he fought back the raw grief still living deep inside him.

  His gaze darted around the cavern, drinking in the rich environment he used to crave seeing. The pyrotechnic display of daylight refracted into beautiful curtains of color that stained the limestone walls. The murky brown of the water dissolved into a mesmerizing blue-green, and
he allowed himself to be swept away by the awesome power of the experience.

  But only for a few too-short moments.

  He had a responsibility, a mission to fulfill down here today. He needed to use all his skill to try and find some clue that might explain how—and why—his uncle had died.

  A team of medically certified cave divers had recovered Jackson’s body and the medical examiner had ruled his uncle’s death an accidental drowning. Just like that Pasco County detective had told Samantha. No more details had followed, even when Zack had used his pull as a law officer to dig.

  He was near the bottom of the Orange Sink now and he saw there were a few smaller, tunnel-like caves that branched out from the main cavern. He stopped in front of the one bearing a warning sign with a large picture of a dark, scowling Grim Reaper.

  He’d bet anything that sign had enticed his thrill-seeking uncle.

  For a moment, he treaded water in indecision. But his instincts told him he was on the right track and he made up his mind. Before he entered the smaller cave, he secured his guideline on a rock near the entrance and snapped on an arrow pointing to the surface, in case he became disoriented. Then he reeled out more line.

  Out of habit, he glanced back. He gasped, almost losing his regulator.

  The fucking TV cameraman was swimming right behind him, underwater camera in hand, probably shooting video of him. Damn it.

  His body temperature rose, despite the cool water. Motioning for the kid not to follow, he pointed repeatedly to the warning sign of the Grim Reaper.

  How the fuck had he not noticed a partner again? Because he’d been too preoccupied, inside his own damn head. But he wasn’t down here today with an experienced police diver. He was dealing with a TV cameraman who was probably an amateur diver—and a stubbornly persistent reporter waiting at the top of the sink ready to spew questions his way when they surfaced. Fuck.

  His frustration exited in a stream of bubbles. He could either swim with the kid back to the surface, making the required stops for decompression, which would eat precious minutes from his total allowed dive time, or he could go just a little further now…and keep a careful eye on the kid.