She took one more drink and gazed up at him much the same way she had right before she’d kissed him last night.
“About that, though,” he blurted. “It was an emergency action.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It would be a bad idea if it happened again.”
When she sighed, he knew she understood. It did make him slightly happy that she looked disappointed.
“I know,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “We’re both here to do a job, and not…anything else.”
At least they were on the same page, though Jeff also knew he was fooling himself. Sharona Blaire had crept into his heart. As a scientist, he knew his curiosity couldn’t rest until he figured out why.
“Jeff?” she said, her teeth catching on her bottom lip as she spoke his name.
Fascinating.
“Yeah?”
“I think they need you out there.” She tilted her head, pointing out.
“Cruz! Come on, mate, time to roll.”
Jeff blinked at the sound of Pax’s voice and gave himself a mental head thwap, needing to shock himself back to reality. Hmm, maybe he should suggest another kiss…
Focus, Cruz!
He was aboard the Mad Hatter, doing possibly the most important research of his career, and all he wanted to do was snog this woman in the corner like a teenager.
“Yeah, on my way!” he called back. He stepped away and glanced at her one last time. “You’re okay?”
She nodded. “All better. I’ll catch up in a minute.”
He lifted his eyebrows, fighting the urge to reach out and cradle her chin. “You should probably take it easy for a while.”
“I’m halfway done with the inventory,” she said, grabbing her bag. She took one last sip of water, then smiled. “Besides that, I don’t want to miss seeing the famous Jeff Cruz in action.”
Dang stupid weak stomach, and dang stupid job! Sharona thought as she watched Jeff walk away. The way his jeans clung to his perfect butt, the one she’d been inches away from exploring.
Why was life so unfair that the one guy she felt uncontrollable chemistry with—even when they weren’t even touching—was the only guy she had to keep her hands off?
She took a moment to straighten her clothes, making sure Jeff’s skilled hands hadn’t undone anything that should have been done. Then she fingered her hair into a ponytail, allowing the sea breeze to touch her still-flushing neck. Only after sufficiently cooling off did she step into the bright sunshine.
Most of the crew was gathered at the bow. Jeff was there, gesturing at the screen of a laptop. “She broke surface three times,” he said. “That should give us additional data from the satellite.”
Sharona moved into the huddle and drew out her tablet. Just from listening to the conversation between Jeff and the rest of the crew, she was able to ascertain a lot about a few of the items on her list. She was checking off much faster than anticipated. Hopefully Jeff would be able to help her knock off the list before he got really busy.
“Feeling better?” Leo said.
“Much,” she replied, glancing toward Jeff. “He gave me a…a drink. Yes, much better.”
“So…” He leaned against the railing. “What do you make of this?”
“Of what?”
He nodded in the general direction of the crew. “The research they’re working on. All this talk about new technology. It’s still untested.”
“I didn’t hear about any new technology.”
Leo stared at her. “That’s kind of the whole point of this trip. To test the trackers.”
Sharona’s job wasn’t to report back to Garry about Jeff’s research, but what Leo said made her suspicious. “Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “Why exactly did UM send you?”
Leo shrugged. “I happened to be in Sydney and someone from the science department contacted me.”
“That’s pretty coincidental.”
“Not really,” Leo said after a few moments. “Thing is—and this is between you and me—I was hired by SED…same as you.”
She stared at him. “Garry Cook sent you here?”
Leo nodded.
“So you’re not a reporter for UM?”
“I am, but…”
“But you’re undercover, reporting for him.” She considered that for a moment, then scoffed. “Classic Garry dick move,” she muttered. “You say there’s new technology aboard. I’m sure Garry’s dying to find out what it is.” She looked at Leo. “Have you learned anything? What are you going to report?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She was about to grab the impressionable kid by the collar and advise him to stay far, far away from her ex if he hoped for an ethical reputation in journalism. But she shouldn’t get into anything with Leo. She had no idea about his loyalties or what he was going to write. If he reported on her and it was negative, Garry would pitch a fit. He might even fire her for spite.
The more she thought about the whole setup, it felt like she was there to audit Jeff, and Leo was there to audit her. How could it get any worse?
“Off the record,” Leo said. “Is this Cruz guy as nuts as he seems?”
“No,” she snapped. “And that’s on the record.”
Leo chuckled. “What kind of drink did he slip you back there?” He laughed and walked off, jotting in his notebook.
Man, she was a sap. Now that she knew about his connection to Garry, she shouldn’t be talking to Leo at all…on or off the record. She should finish her unbiased audit, email the report to Garry before she got canned, then return to real life, forgetting all about Jeff Cruz…and the way he made her open up like a flower.
She caught Jeff’s eye, and he gave her a flash of that Han Solo grin. Yeah, forgetting about him would be easier said than done.
A few minutes later, he broke from the group and strolled over. “Okay?”
“Stop asking that,” she said through her teeth. “I’m fine, thanks for your help.”
“I would say ‘ask me again anytime,’ but that’s probably not a good idea.”
“Probably not.” She couldn’t help laughing. “Um, so Leo mentioned you’re using new technology today. I’d like to hear about that when you have a…a few minutes.”
They held eye contact for a long moment, and Sharona wondered if—like her—Jeff was thinking about the last time they’d shared a few minutes alone.
“How does Leo know about that?” he finally asked. And why did it look like he was grinding his teeth?
“I’m not sure. But if I were you, I wouldn’t share anything important with him.”
“Who should I share with?” he asked, tilting his head. “You?”
“Hey, it was just some friendly advice.”
“Well, thanks for that. Listen, things are about to get crazy.” He slid on a pair of sunglasses. “So I’ll be tied up. To be on the safe side, if someone tells you to step back, listen to them—for everyone’s safety.”
“I won’t be in the way,” she said, a bit annoyed. It wasn’t like she was a natural klutz—seasickness wasn’t her fault, and everyone has spilled a drink at least once in their lives—okay, twice, but whatever.
The moment Jeff left, she pulled out her phone about to do a Google search. Maybe if she looked up his name, there would be a clue about the new gadget he was using. There was a new text. From Garry. Instead of texting back, she stepped into the empty helm and gave him a call.
“Sharona,” her boss—her ex-fiancé—barked after one ring. “What have you found?”
Not for the first time in her experience of working with him, she got the impression he expected her to dig up something sinister…bust the big, bad scientists for doing deeds unethical.
“Everything checks out,” she said. “It’s all routine.”
“Jobs like this are never routine—that’s rule number one.” She always hated when he spoke to her like she was an idiot. She didn’t appreciate it when they’d been engaged, and she didn’t now. If she hadn’t reall
y believed in her job—helping small research teams manage their funds more economically—she would not have continued to work with him.
“I guess…they’re using some kind of innovative tracking system,” she offered. “It’s not on the audit list.”
There was a pause, then, “Sharona. Listen very carefully: find out everything you can.”
“That’s not my job. I didn’t come here to spy on…” She cut herself off, took a breath, then glanced toward Leo.
Spy…
“Garry, did you send a reporter from UM?”
She heard the shuffle of papers on his end. “Reporter? No.”
She didn’t believe him, of course. Leo had already confessed.
“Look, just do your job and report back. UM is paying us a lot of money to do this job.”
She rolled her eyes, ready to hang up on him when one of the deckhands called out, “There’s the first!”
“Look, Garry, I gotta go—”
“Find out about that tracker, Sharona, or don’t bother coming back.”
“Yes, sir,” she muttered under her breath. She ended the call, then moved to the side of the ship where the same deckhand was pointing out to sea. How these guys had such good eyesight, she’d never know.
“Got it on radar,” Pax confirmed.
Jeff wheeled around to them “Break surface?”
The deckhand looked through a pair of binoculars, scanning the water. “Once, but I lost him.”
“Damn,” Jeff muttered, then turned to Pax. “Anything?”
“Still got him. He’s gone deep but within the perimeter.” Pax looked at his boss. “Chum?”
Jeff rubbed his chin. “No blood in the water unless it’s necessary. Keep an eye on it.”
Sharona glanced at Pax’s screen, which displayed a radar system, different from the one she’d seen earlier. “Which program is this?” she asked.
Pax just grunted, keeping his eyes on the screen.
“What is the name for auditing purposes?”
He muttered under his breath, then rattled off the name. Sharona found it, typed in a note, then checked it off. Jeez, was that so hard?
She glanced at his screen again. There were a handful of blinking dots she assumed were the sharks. A little ball of dread rolled in her stomach. Not nausea like before—that had been mortifying. And not fear that a great white was going to eat the boat. Her dread was the thought of finally seeing one of the tracking devices Jeff had described. She wasn’t in the mood to witness a bunch of blood if Jeff and his team planned on tagging more specimens.
“He’s coming up,” Pax exclaimed in an excited voice. “Fast.”
“Get the trigger ready,” Jeff instructed. “Everyone, keep your eyes peeled. Neon pink, remember? Should stand out once it’s released. There!”
This time, Sharona easily spotted the dorsal fin.
“Now!” Jeff shouted.
A second later, like the cork popping out of a bottle of champagne, a bright pink object the size of a magic marker shot skyward. By the time it landed, the dorsal fin was out of sight.
“All eyes,” Jeff said, then he called to the guy posted way up in the eagles nest. “Bogie, you got it?”
The guy held binoculars to his eyes. “Got it in sight, Cruz. To the port, fifteen meters, bobbin’ like a damn cork.”
“Unbelievable. Spur, Clancy, get the boat and walkies. Mates, this is it…let’s get our baby.”
Just as Jeff predicted, it got crazy. Sharona stood back, watching in awe at their speed and efficiency. Like a well-oiled machine, everyone knew what to do without being asked, and before she knew it, Jeff and two members of the crew were stepping off the back of the ship and onto a speedboat.
“Where are they going?” she asked Pax, who sat at the bolted-down chair and table in front of his laptop.
“To pick up Old Faithful number nine,” he replied.
She scanned her list, already knowing she wouldn’t find it. “And that is…?”
He eyed her skeptically for a moment, then sighed. “I guess it’s okay to tell you since you’re here. The Old Faithful program is detachable trackers. They store data but are too small to transmit tangible intel to the satellites like the large ones everyone uses. If we get close enough when the animal surfaces, we can detach ours remotely.”
“And it shoots into the sky,” she said, gazing toward the water. “Old Faithful, like the geyser at Yellowstone Park. Cool.”
“Cool?” Pax chuckled. “It’s more than cool, it’s ingenious. Cruz’s brain child.”
“Huh,” she said as she flipped to the front of her list, still not seeing anything called Old Faithful. “Could it be called something else? I don’t see that name.”
“You won’t find it on any inventory list from UM,” Pax said. “Jeff funded it out of his own pocket.”
She lowered her tablet. “Why?”
“For one thing, other groups have tried using similar prototypes and they’ve all failed, pretty publically. Jeff was able to partner with a group of engineers in Japan who came up with something radical. He didn’t want to get in the news if it didn’t work, didn’t need cameras from Animal Planet documenting everything.”
“I see,” Sharona said, and couldn’t help feeling impressed. “So now they’ve gone out to fish this tracker out of the water, so to speak?”
“We counted eight of our Old Faithful-tagged animals in this area. If we’re lucky, we’ll get all eight trackers today. The intel retrieved will be beyond innovative. This is a scientific first in the field of shark research…if it works the way Jeff hopes.”
Sharona nodded, then stepped to the side, watching the smaller boat speed a good twenty meters away. She could see Jeff, his blue shirt and dark hair, now partially covered with a sun visor that was somehow extremely sexy on him. Their boat slowed, made a sharp turn, then Jeff lowered a net attached to a long metal stick over the side.
Complete silence fell over the crew of the Mad Hatter, as everyone simultaneously held their breath, waiting. A few seconds later, Jeff straightened and held something high over his head. It was neon pink.
Everyone broke into cheers. Even Manny blew the horn. High fives were given all around, and then the crew raced to the rear of the boat awaiting the return of their leader.
Jeff was grinning wider that she’d ever seen him. He looked exhilarated and ocean-sprayed and just plain gorgeous. Sharona had the flash of an image of him coming out of a shower. What she would do for him to smile at her that way.
“Can you read the data right now? Here?” she asked Pax, keeping an eye on the pink tracker.
“That’s the major downfall. These transmitters don’t have a USB connection attached organically; that makes them too intrusive while attached to the animal. We’ll have to wait until we’re back at the lab.”
“Hmm,” she said, tapping that into her tablet.
“Every time the dorsal fin breaks surface with our tracker attached, it sends a ping to us. In the last year, our sharks have been traced all the way to South Africa and Hawaii. This species has never been tracked so specifically before. Our findings have been astounding.”
“How are they attached?” she asked. “Jeff said something about a…a hole-punch.”
“Those are for the long-term transmitters. They need to be able to endure up to five years in the water. Cruz refuses to use those now, not with our system. The Old Faithfuls are short-term, meant to stay attached for two years at the most so we can map their migration. For attaching purposes, in layman’s terms, we use a waterproof Velcro.”
“And they detach electronically?”
Pax nodded. “Completely battery operated. The whole thing flies off, barely leaving a mark on the fin.”
After recording all that in the notes section of her database, she said, “Thank you. I appreciate this information. When I talked to Jeff about the trackers earlier, he didn’t say anything about this. I think he’s a little protective.”
Pax laughed darkly and squinted into the sun. “Yeah, well, you would be, too, if you’d been trying to get approval for five years. Before that, even, he’d been nearly ready to patent an early prototype of Old Faithful when it was stolen.”
“By who? A competitor?”
“No.” Pax shifted in his seat like he’d divulged something he shouldn’t have.
What were they hiding?
“Let’s just say, a lot of the other teams don’t worry about getting consent through the proper channels,” Pax added. “But Cruz never skips a step. Our team is different.”
“How so?”
“You won’t find excessive amounts of chum aboard this ship, and very little bait. We do our best to not disturb the ecosystem whenever possible. We study their behavior so we can go to them instead of forcing them to come to us by pouring gallons of blood into the ocean. That was Jeff’s idea, too, and that philosophy in itself is innovative.”
“Sounds like you guys are pretty protective of these animals.”
Pax shook his head, his expression closing up. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered. “You’re a conservationist, aren’t you?”
Sharona blinked. It sounded like an insult. “I’m an animal lover, yes. But I’m not here to judge what you’re doing—my job is to collect facts.”
“Here’s this for a fact: you probably think you’re the one campaigning for more humane treatment of these animals,” Pax said, staring her dead in the eyes. “But all you’re doing is getting in the way.”
She didn’t know how to reply to that, because she didn’t know if it was the truth. Was SED Auditors—or more specifically—was she in Jeff’s way?
Pax gathered his laptop. “No wonder Cruz was as pissed off as I’d ever seen him the second you stepped aboard this vessel.” He shook his head, then walked away.
She stared after him, feeling a knot in her stomach. Was Jeff really that strongly against her being here? Was that kiss just what he’d claimed it was? Maybe he didn’t want to have to deal with the paperwork of someone being injured while aboard the ship, or he’d done whatever he could to keep from turning back to the mainland and scrapping the whole day.
She felt hurt and deflated at the thought.
Love Bites: A Sugar City Novella (Entangled Bliss) Page 6
