MAKE HER PAY

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Con,” she said, dropping to her knees in front of him to get in his line of vision, which was locked on the rock. “This belongs to my family.” She seized the book and waved it over the diamond. “The proof is in these pages.”

  He might have heard her, but he was still turning the diamond over in his hands, his jaw loose, his fascination clear.

  “This is incredible.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “It certainly is,” she agreed. “Which is why we can’t let Judd Paxton sell these on the black market. Treasures like this belong in a museum, for the whole world to enjoy.” She grabbed his forearm and demanded his attention. “You realize that I don’t want to keep this or profit from it. It’s for posterity, not prosperity.”

  He finally looked at her. “Excuse me?”

  “It was my father’s favorite saying about treasure hunting. It should be done for posterity, not prosperity. Which is why he hated Judd Paxton. One of the reasons, anyway.”

  “What were the others?”

  She rocked back on her heels, unwilling to go back to the chair. She liked being close to him, liked looking up into his rugged face. Liked it a little too much.

  “My father was always obsessed with the fact that we are descendants of a great maritime family. If you go back another hundred years, there’s another famous Captain Dare in history. You may have heard of Captain Antoine Dare, the only captain to steer a boat in the 1715 fleet out of the storm that took down eleven Spanish galleons off the coast of Florida.”

  He nodded, dividing his attention between the diamond and her face.

  “The 1715 galleon wrecks are all up and down this coast, and every few years another one is uncovered. Years ago my father found one, and because a Dare had been part of the armada, the wreck meant a great deal to him. Long story short, Judd Paxton swooped in and claimed it as his own. He’s got the reputation and he’s got the money, and he’s ruthless like that. Other people find the wrecks, and he takes the credit and the cash. He steals as much as any pirate. He just does it by buying off half the officials in the state of Florida.”

  Con held the stone up to her, his expression still troubled. “You can’t keep this diamond on this boat.”

  “I know that. Can you imagine if news got out? We’d be attacked.”

  “I will help you.”

  She almost sighed with relief. “Good. Because I can’t bring that scepter up alone at night.”

  He shot her a disbelieving look. “I meant I’ll help you hide this. I can get this to the mainland, and get it somewhere safe.”

  “What?” She tried to grab the diamond, but he held it tight. “I know where it’ll be safe—in my family’s safe-deposit box.”

  “How are you going to get it there?”

  “I’ll figure that out. You just have to help me get the scepter out of the water.”

  “Lizzie, it’s worth millions—”

  “Many of them,” she agreed. “And even more with the scepter, and I will not, under any circumstances, for any reason, separate that diamond from its scepter. It killed me to leave it down there in the ballast pile.”

  “That’s what you were afraid I was going to find when I looked in the ballast, weren’t you?”

  “Of course I was. And obviously someone will, if I risk too many more days. I have to get that scepter up without anyone seeing, then get them both to the mainland. I need you to work the air hose while I dive at night, when everyone is asleep.”

  He just stared at her. “You’re going to night dive and get the scepter?”

  “Yes.” To make her point, she got up and sat on the bunk very close to him, turning his sizable shoulders so he’d face her and listen. “And that’s all I need from you, Con, I promise. You don’t have to get in any deeper than that. I’ll handle getting them both to the mainland and hidden.”

  He didn’t say anything, but finally set the diamond down on his pillow behind him, then picked up the journal. “What kind of proof is in here that all this is true?”

  She didn’t like his tone but understood the skepticism. “Notes, copies of documents and letters, proof that Captain Aramis Dare sailed to Portugal to sell the scepters and quite a bit of other treasure that he had legally purchased in Havana. Some paperwork that supports the theory that he had a buyer lined up in Portugal, that that buyer tried to swindle him, and Aramis took off with a lot of the treasure still on board. They chased him down to here.” She pointed down, indicating the very water they floated on. “And shot El Falcone down.”

  “Surely, if that’s true, they boarded the ship and took the bounty.”

  “He threw it overboard as they were being attacked. It’s deep here, almost fifty feet, and they probably didn’t have any diving equipment on board. Salvaging was done in shallow waters back then. The guy who chased him—and before you ask, I don’t know who that is, because Aramis only refers to him as CB—might have gone back to land or even home to put together the equipment necessary to salvage the area. But whatever happened, no one ever recovered the Bombay Blue scepters. At least, they’ve never turned up in the past hundred and fifty years.”

  He fluttered a few pages. “How did you get on this dive if you hate Paxton so much? How did you know that this was El Falcone?”

  “A little serendipity, a little hunch, and friends. Before he died, my father developed the cannon theory, and surmised that the ship wasn’t in shallow water, and knew it had probably been about ten miles off the coast. He was killed before he could figure out a way to finance a site exploration, and I decided if I ever could figure out a way, I would do it. But, man, does that take money! So when Sam Gorman called and told me about this secret, high-paying dive, I was interested.”

  “But you couldn’t have known that it was El Falcone.”

  “No, but then I found this.” She opened to the last page and pulled out a sketched oceanic chart and pointed to a spot in the Atlantic Ocean. “The map my dad had. Out of curiosity, I called Sam and convinced him to tell me the exact location of this salvage effort. When he did, I said I’d go.”

  “Does Sam know?”

  She shook her head. “And believe me, I’ve been tempted to tell him.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I don’t want to get him involved. I could get into a boatload of trouble, and he has a reputation to maintain.”

  “And I don’t?” His half smile was so droll, her heart rolled over at it.

  “You seem like you could handle a little controversy. Plus, I told you, I’ll keep you out of it. All you have to do is work the air hose for me on a night dive.” She dug her fingers into his arm. “I swear, that’s all.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  She pulled him closer, drawing him around to face her again. “My father died with this one dream that mattered to him. I’m all he has to make that happen. I mean, I didn’t promise him, because he died when I wasn’t there …” She fought the lump in her throat, the strangling guilt and remorse. “But if I had been, I would have sworn on our name that I would do this for him.”

  “Lizzie, does anyone else know what you’re doing?”

  “My sister, Brianna. And believe me, she’s batshit that I’m here without her. But I couldn’t risk bringing her into this, plus she had to stay home and go through all of Dad’s files. I convinced her that was as important as what I’m doing. And we’re keeping each other posted when we find anything important.”

  For a long time he didn’t respond, but paged through the notebook, glanced at the diamond, considering it all. Finally he shook his head, and disappointment lurched in her.

  “No, you won’t help me?”

  “You can’t dive with no blower down to the ballast pile in the middle of the night and bring up an eighteen-inch-long hunk of gold and hide it.”

  “I can’t,” she agreed, hope making its way up into her chest again. “But we could.”

  “Will you answer a question for me, entirely honestly?”

>   “I’ve been completely honest with you,” she said defensively. “You can ask me anything.”

  “Have you taken anything at all from the treasure hold?”

  “I’ve taken pictures, so I could match items to the sketches I had. And I’ve taken that diamond and hidden that scepter. That’s all, I swear.”

  “Then there is a thief on board this boat.”

  “Flynn Paxton would be my guess.”

  “The boss’s stepson?”

  She rolled her eyes. “The boss’s albatross is more like it. Have you ever seen a company dive manager do a more pathetic job? He’s not even on the boat, sleeping in his own cabin cruiser like some kind of royalty.”

  “I got the impression he was being groomed to head the company when Judd retires.”

  She snorted softly. “There’s no love lost between those two. Flynn was sixteen or seventeen when Judd married his mom, and though he took his stepfather’s last name, there’s a lot of animosity there. I don’t like Judd Paxton, but I give him grudging respect for being a hard worker. Flynn? He’s like a rich kid, breezing in and out of dives, never serious except to get the treasure off and out as fast as he can. If anyone is dipping into the gold till, I bet it’s him.”

  Con turned a page of the journal and tapped a drawing. “Someone has that.”

  “The Our Lady of Sorrows medallion,” Lizzie said, turning the page to look at it. “I bet Flynn took it.”

  “I considered that,” he admitted.

  “He knows that medallion is very, very valuable.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “And see what a big deal he made about appointing you to watch the treasure, then blaming you for losing it? And now he’s got that medallion, and he probably has a buyer for it. He left me dangling on the dock for two hours today while he went to some meeting. I was his cover.” She tucked her knees under her, determined to get into his face to make her point. “Can’t you see that I’m right?”

  “I can see the possibility,” he conceded.

  “The possibility? I bet you a million dollars he’s got that medallion. If we could get on his boat tonight, we’d probably find him fondling it right now.”

  “You don’t have a million dollars, Lizzie.”

  “No,” she agreed, turning toward the diamond on the pillow. “But I have that.”

  He looked hard at her. “Then let’s make a bet.”

  “A bet? For the diamond?” She laughed softly. “Not a chance.”

  “If Paxton has the medallion, if he really stole it from me and set me up, then you’re on. I’ll help you.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “You’re on your own, kid.” He stood up, scooping up the diamond in a flash so fast, she didn’t have a chance to get it first.

  “Hey!”

  “I’m keeping this for you.”

  “You are not,” she said, practically lunging at him.

  He held it out of her reach. “Lizzie, you are not safe with this in your cabin. If someone knows you have it, you could be killed for something that valuable. I’ll keep it.” As she started to protest, he held up his hand. “First of all, no one knows I have it. Secondly, I’m armed and dangerous and will kill anyone who tries to get near it.”

  Her eyes widened and her jaw opened, but he stepped forward and closed it with a single finger. “Regardless of that, I am one of the good guys. Now go back to your cabin. Wait for me to come and get you in about ten minutes, and be sure you have your camera.”

  “What are you going to do? Take pictures of the diamond?”

  “Nope.” He finally lifted his finger, only to graze it under her chin, lifting her face a fraction like he wanted a kiss. “We’re going to settle our bet.”

  “Flynn, I have to go now.”

  Alita’s announcement, delivered with a poke of her fingers, pulled him out of a dream, forcing Flynn to roll over with a grunt. “So row back.”

  “You would let me do that? At four in the morning?” Alita’s voice grew shrill. She was a great diver, a terrific source of inside crew information, and a fine fuck, but, Jesus, the woman could whine.

  “You rowed over here at one in the morning. What difference does it make?”

  “It’s just crude to do me and send me back in the middle of the night.”

  He pushed himself against her. He could get hard again. Maybe.

  “Can’t I just stay?” she singsonged.

  For about twenty minutes. “What would Dave say when he saw you in the morning?”

  She propped up on an elbow. “He’d say, ‘Lucky Flynn Paxton, gettin’ it on with the hottest diver in the business.’ ”

  That made him smile. He liked her ego, and the fact that he was the beneficiary of her very active libido on this dive. He’d heard enough rumors to know someone on board always got a piece of Alita.

  “Honey, I need this to be a secret.” Because Judd the Dud would have his ass for screwing the help. “Otherwise no one will talk to you, and there is some nasty shit going on over there and you are my …” He ran his hand over her rear, then worked his way up. “Conduit.”

  “Nasty?” She launched up. “You’re the one who took the medallion. It really wasn’t fair to set Con up like that. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Yeah, but he wouldn’t split the cash with you. I will.” He gave her boob a quick massage. “And just in case you’re getting all creamy down below over him, he’s already giving it to Lizzie, so forget it.”

  She jerked back and threw the covers off. “You really can be a prick, you know that?”

  “You like my prick.”

  She blew out a breath and stood up. “You totally don’t get it, Flynn.”

  “Get what?”

  “I have feelings, too.” Grabbing her underpants, she stepped in, hopping a little on one leg, then the other, making her boobs bounce.

  “I’m teasing. Come on back to bed.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Precisely.” He rolled closer and reached for the lace edge of her panties. “I’ll row you home. I promise.”

  She snapped out of his touch, then jerked toward the porthole. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “That flash.”

  “Lightning?”

  She gave him a look like he was crazy. “That. Did you see that?”

  He did, and it wasn’t lightning. He bounded off the bed out to the salon, onto the deck just as it flashed again.

  “Motherfucker,” he mumbled. “Someone’s out there. Taking pictures of our boat and location. Shit.”

  Alita was next to him in a second. “I don’t see a boat. It’s pitch-black.”

  “Someone’s found us.” His stomach rolled. If their location got out, Judd would be down here in a heartbeat. That’d screw up everything.

  On the other hand, he already had a buyer for the medallion, and this gig was going to be up soon.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  Do? Why the fuck did he have to do anything? Because he was the company manager on the dive and had to do something. Or act like he was.

  He puffed his chest up with a deep inhale. “I’m going over to the boat.”

  “They could be pirates.”

  Jesus. “They could be poachers. Or someone from the state trying to figure out what we’re doing here.” Or, he hoped, some ambitious fisherman he could scare off. If not, he’d avoid them altogether. “You stay here. No one knows you’re here. Just get back in bed and stay low. I’ll check it out.”

  “Are you sure?” She looked up at him, a little of the admiration he wanted to see back in her eyes.

  “Of course I’m sure.” He headed back to the stateroom, on the way glancing at the cabinet where he’d hidden the medallion before she showed up. That had to go tomorrow.

  He dressed, counting three more flashes. Feeling protective and strong, he gave her a kiss and headed out, climbing into the motorized raft that he hoped would make enough noise to
scare them off. He moved very slowly, taking his time to close the hundred and fifty feet between his boat and the Gold Digger.

  The whole time, there were no more flashes. Approaching the boat head-on to the stern, he went around the starboard side, even though he thought the flash had come from the port side. Slowly, he cruised alongside of the vessel, which looked completely still and dark. When he got back to the stern, he braced himself, but saw nothing. A few of the rafts tied up. The deck quiet. The starboard side looking completely calm.

  Could it have been lightning?

  He continued around the boat, reaching back with one hand to steer the raft, the motor puttering softly. Suddenly he saw some movement on the deck.

  “Flynn?” a woman’s voice called.

  “Is that you, Lizzie?”

  “What are you doing out there?” she asked.

  “I thought I saw some flashes. Thought someone was taking pictures of our location and I came to investigate.”

  “Really? I didn’t see anything and I’ve been out here for a while. Maybe you imagined it.”

  No, he didn’t imagine it, and he had Alita as a witness. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. He maneuvered around as she aimed a flashlight onto the water.

  “There’s no one here.” The sea was indeed empty as far as the beam of light showed. She swiped over the water, all the way to the black horizon. Nothing.

  “That’s strange,” he said. “Are you sure no one boarded?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve been sitting out here for a while now. Can’t sleep.”

  Would she be out there taking pictures? No, that didn’t make sense. “Well, you ought to,” he said, working the raft around. “You have to dive tomorrow morning.”

  “I know. I was just on my way to my cabin when I heard the motor.”

  “I’ll check out the rest of the perimeter of the boat,” he said, sounding brave, and actually feeling that way now.

  “All right. G’night.” She disappeared into the shadows of the deck, and he took a few more minutes to circle the whole boat again.

  By the time he tied up the raft to his cabin cruiser, he was wide awake and ready for sex. Feeling heroic, strong, and ready for another round, he bounded back to the stateroom, hard for Alita.