Once back aboard the Mad Hatter, Jeff was accepting high fives from everyone. But there wasn’t much time for congratulations, because only a few minutes later, Pax announced another tracker had broken surface less than a mile away. And they were off.
In the next few hours, Sharona met with different members of the crew and managed to get through most of the auditing list. There were only a few minor discrepancies, and she couldn’t account for a two thousand dollar deposit on one of the pressure pumps. Other than that, everything was, for lack of a better term…shipshape.
While she worked, three more transmitters were retrieved. She watched Jeff go out on the speedboat to grab the device. She tried her best to stay completely out of his way, to do her job and only observe the crew celebrate every time one of those hot-pink corks shot into the air.
Jeff’s obvious nonexistence wherever she happened to be standing was duly noted, and after a while, Sharona was ready to get off the boat. No reason to be where she wasn’t wanted. She’d just finished wolfing down a sandwich and was chatting with Manny when a sixth device was spotted.
“Thirty meters south,” Pax reported. “This might be the last we get today. I’ll go out for it.”
“I’ve got it,” Jeff said, breezing by where she sat on the leaning post. “Grab some tucker and shade, mate.”
“Sure you don’t need a break?” Pax asked.
Jeff squinted out at the blue, rippling ocean. “Bogie’s driving the boat, water’s calm as glass, no need for three. Unless…” He glanced at Sharona. “Why don’t you come out?”
It was the first time he’d spoken to her in hours. “Are you sure? Don’t want to be in your way.” She cringed at the bitter, immature tone in her voice.
Jeff looked at her. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought you’d be in the way.” His tone matched hers. “But if you’re not up to it, no worries. I just thought you’d like a different perspective than what you see on your list there. More to report back.”
Well, this was true, and it wasn’t as if the speedboat was an inflatable raft. It was bigger than her car at home. And so what if Jeff was all business? Hadn’t he said that was the way it had to be, anyway? And like an idiot, hadn’t she agreed?
“Okay,” she said.
Jeff cocked his head. “Ladies first.”
Chapter Six
“Look, I know you don’t want me here,” Sharona said under her breath as she walked beside Jeff toward the chase boat.
He caught the hostile tone in her voice. What had changed in the past three hours? They’d discussed it and hadn’t they both agreed they were there to do their jobs?
Sheilas… Who the hell knows what they’re thinking? He couldn’t figure this one out at all, and he wasn’t sure he should want to so badly.
His mind replayed the other time he’d allowed his business life to mix with his private life. That fatal slipup had cost him a year of research, and set the Old Faithful project way behind schedule because his early data had been pinched from right under his nose.
How could he have known the woman he’d trusted with his whole heart enough to marry could have betrayed him like that?
“You’re pissed that I’m here,” Sharona said. “I get that, and I’ve been trying to stay out of your way—as much as humanly possible given the circumstances. Just remember, you’re the one who invited me to retrieve the transmitter. And you’re the one who…you know…in the helm. So don’t go saying I muscled my way in.”
Jeff stared at her, feeling even more baffled. Though he did enjoy that her feisty, sharklike attitude was back. After she huffed and turned away, he shook his head and stepped onto the speedboat. Despite those long legs, it was a bit of a jump for her, so he reached out a hand. She glared at it, acting stubborn.
“Give me your damn hand, Sharona, unless you’re hankering for a dip.”
“Fine,” she muttered.
Once he had ahold of her, he gave her arm a tug. She stumbled on her landing, crashing into his chest. He caught her easily, not unhappy about the misstep bringing her body straight into his arms.
“Luckily you didn’t have a drink in your hand,” he said. Sharona exhaled a little laugh. “You can sit.” He pointed to the bench seat attached to the back of the small helm. “Or stand,” he added, gesturing to the spot next to him, trying not to be overly pleased when she took that spot beside him, taking a firm hold on the railing. Bogie didn’t drive very fast, and the floor of the boat was deep enough that only the wave of a breeching humpback would knock her around on a calm day like today.
Once they were both in place, Bogie pulled away from the mother ship.
Jeff had the walkie to his ear, relaying Pax’s direction toward the floating transmitter out in the open ocean. With their course locked in, he turned his attention to Sharona, taking in her long dark hair blowing in the breeze. She was holding it back in a ponytail with one hand, exposing her long neck. Why hadn’t he kissed her there? Suddenly, it was all he could think about.
“How far are we going?” she asked, breaking his concentration.
“The, uh, the tracker drifted a bit,” he said, pulling his eyes from the mesmerizing contours of her throat. “Maybe a hundred meters. Might have to circle a while.”
She nodded. He didn’t like how detached she seemed. Maybe he’d sent a mixed message when he’d kissed her. Although, he didn’t know what the hell kind of message he’d meant to send.
Even if what he felt for her was the start of something real, how could they make it work past today’s job? There was no way he could move to…where did she say she was from? Hershey?
Yeah, not many great whites in central Pennsylvania, Cruz.
“What do sharks find so special about this area off the coastline?” she said. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
That icy tone was back. Jeff didn’t like it. “I don’t mind. Whenever you have questions, just ask.”
She nodded but seemed as skeptical as before.
“A lot of our tagged sharks are here, though we don’t know why yet. Our research takes longer because it’s less aggressive.”
She glanced at him, biting her lip, looking pensive.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She exhaled. “It’s just…this whole thing is a lot more humane than what I imagined.”
“We’re not here to hurt any wildlife on or offshore.”
She nodded. “I can see that.”
After a moment of trying to read that look in her eyes, Jeff gave up and laughed. “I hate to think what you expected to discover today. I mean, aside from me poaching money from the uni to fund my personal booze cruise.”
Sharona laughed. He liked the sound of it, reminding him of how she’d giggled and tossed her hair last night. “I never once thought that.” She tucked some hair behind an ear, trying to keep it from blowing in her face. Jeff’s fingers twitched, wishing he could hold it back for her. “In my line of work, I’ve learned to expect the worst.”
“You’ve come across that many crooks?”
“You’d be surprised. I was originally hired as an intern while in grad school finishing my accounting degree. I always got the feeling I was being given the…special cases. Like I could make people tell me things they shouldn’t. I still feel that way.”
It was pretty easy to picture this. About ten seconds into their first kiss, if she’d asked him, he would’ve gladly divulged all of his ATM codes and the combination to his gun safe and his grandmum’s Tax File Number. Though he was sure Sharona Blaire wasn’t sent to make out with every auditing assignment. The thought actually made him want to laugh.
“What do you mean by special cases?” he asked.
“Like I’m supposed to find something,” she explained. “Sometimes I do, but I can always tell when it’s one of those cases.”
“And you felt that about today?”
“Sort of. But thanks to Pax and some of the other guys, the audit’s almost done. Everything i
s pretty much perfect.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I must be better at hiding my crimes than I thought.” He leaned toward her. “Joking.”
She exhaled a quiet laugh and looked down at the water. Sunlight bounced off the surface, sending bursts of sunny brightness across her face.
“Aside from all that, though,” she said, “and on a personal note, I’ve been really impressed with how you run your team. Obviously my job doesn’t have to do with marine life, but I’ve audited research teams similar to yours and you can’t believe the crap I’ve seen people try to get away with—really dangerous, irresponsible things. Damaging. I’ve always been a believer that science, too, needs its checks and balances. But even as an auditor, I also believe both sides should come together to make the planet a better place.”
“Isn’t that what you and I have been doing?”
When she finally lifted a genuine smile, Jeff hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. “Exactly like what we’ve been doing,” she said. “I’m not in your way and you’re not in mine. In the grand scheme of things, we share a mutual goal, but I’m not a distraction.”
He couldn’t help laughing, probably loudly enough to scare a school of hammerheads.
“What?”
“Sharona Blaire.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the smooth ocean surface. “You’ve been nothing but the sexiest, most desirable distraction of my life.” The admission hung in the air, suspended, and for a painful moment, he regretted being so open…trusting.
“I guess that means we have something else in common, Jeff Cruz.”
Sharona didn’t know if she should say more or simply wrestle Jeff to the floor of the boat.
Jumping to conclusions was the very thing she had to fight against whenever she went on a job. She dealt in facts and numbers, nothing else. And here she’d been assuming what Pax had told her about Jeff being personally pissed at her was the truth…without bothering to ask Jeff about it.
It might’ve been the biggest relief in her life when he’d called her sexy, like it was a fact. Though the situation wasn’t ideal by any stretch, neither of them could ignore their combustible chemistry.
“We’re nearly there.” His words snapped her awake.
“Great,” she said, wiping her sweaty palms over her shorts. “So, why do you think this area is popular with your sharks?” she asked again, needing to fill her thoughts with something besides how she felt the involuntarily urge to lick her lips whenever she looked at Jeff.
“Like I mentioned before, we suspect it’s a place they come to mate.” He shifted his weight and pressed his shoulder against hers, their bare arms touching. “But there isn’t much information yet.”
“What about the data on Old Faithful?”
“Did Pax explain the Old Faithful project?”
“It wasn’t on my list and I was curious.”
He lifted an eyebrow and leaned against the side of the boat. “Afraid I was one of your special cases?”
She laughed. “Maybe. What he told me, though, it’s fascinating. I’d love to know more.”
“When we’re back on the ship, I’ll walk through the whole process with you.”
“That’d be great.” She smiled and turned toward the water. “So, will the data give you any indication of why the sharks come here?”
He shook his head. “Doubtful. White sharks are quite elusive when it comes to reproduction.”
“Interesting. In what way?”
“Well, there are very few documented cases of anyone witnessing white sharks in the act.”
“Of mating?”
He nodded. It made Sharona want to laugh, how serious he looked. “Obviously, though, we know it happens, since the species isn’t extinct. Plus, there are telltale signs.”
“Like what?”
“Tangible evidence of intense force. Scars on their dermal denticles scales, tears, cuts, gashes from teeth.” He tipped his chin forward, bending his face to hers. “Though I’d rather think of them as love bites.” His gaze flicked to her mouth then away.
A sizzle broke out on the back of her neck, and the part of her arm touching Jeff felt like it was on fire. “Love bites,” she echoed in a whisper.
He nodded. “There’s documented proof that mature sharks who’ve mated are left with very specific markings.”
“Like it’s…rough?” she asked, feeling her heart pound, throat go dry.
“Passionate,” he tweaked, pressing his shoulder against hers again. She knew it was a deliberate move this time. “Or maybe it’s the way the male grips her and holds on…the most intense lover’s embrace in the animal kingdom. With creatures that have teeth sharper than knives, obviously that kind of shagging leaves very impressive dents. When it comes down to it…in the throes of passion, our species aren’t so different. I know I’ve learned a lot from my personal research.”
“Love bites…” she repeated, her voice coming out as a whisper. “Fascinating.”
“It is.” He matched her slow, hushed tone. “I shouldn’t brag, but I’m one of the top experts in my field.”
She swallowed. “Of shark sex, you mean.”
“Well, that, too. Anything you want to know on the subject, Sharona…anything”—he pulled back a sexy half grin—“I’d be happy to enlighten you.”
Chapter Seven
Jeff loved the way Sharona’s cheeks became more and more flushed. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than her on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Though he could picture her in a few other places he’d like to compare.
“I see it!” She wore an excited grin, her brown eyes bright. A few feet to the left, floating like a piece of driftwood, was gorgeous Old Faithful number five, the one worn by their old mate, Waltzing Matilda.
“Should I grab the net?” Sharona asked. She must have been paying attention to the other retrieval trips because she already had the long pole in her hand, the dripping net off the side.
“Bogie will come about,” Jeff said. “Then pass the net to me. Or, why don’t you do the honors. Bogie, get us right up along side.”
The boat slowly came about, so the tag would be within easy reach.
“Ready?” he said to Sharona, who looked as excited as a little girl seeing her first joey. Quite different from the woman who’d almost lost her tucker a few hours ago.
“I’m ready,” she said, grinning and gripping the pole.
“We’re slowing. Wait till we come to a complete stop, though. No need to fish you out, too. Although, isn’t it time for you to be the one in the wet shirt?”
She eyed him over her shoulder and giggled. “Will you ever let me live that down?”
“I don’t plan on it,” he said with a grin as Bogie cut the engine, allowing the boat to drift. The hot-pink transmitter was only a few feet away.
“I think I can reach it.”
“Make sure you’ve got a good grip and your feet are stable.”
She rose up on her toes a few times. “Stable, sir.”
“Go for it.”
She pressed the front of her hips against the boat and bent over the side, far enough to dip the net into the water, giving Jeff a mighty sweet view. As she was about to scoop up the transmitter, he heard shouts coming from the mother ship and Pax’s voice crackled through the walkie.
“Pull back! Matilda.”
Ice shot up Jeff’s spine as he watched Sharona teetering over the edge of the boat.
“I got it!” she said triumphantly. Before she could lift the net out of the water, he spotted the fin, then the nose of Matilda. In about two seconds, the shark would be on top of them.
He lunged Sharona’s way. “Arm inside!”
She gawked at him. “Wha—”
There was a huge splash, drenching him, then multiple splashes.
Before he could make another move, the entire net, as well as its contents, were ripped away by the shark’s jaws. Jeff had a tight hold of Sharona and yanked her back. She shrieked,
still clutching the gnarled pole. One single bite and Matilda has chomped clean through the metal.
“Drop it,” Jeff said. When she did, he saw the blood.
Sharona was not going to lose control of her stomach again. Not for the second time in one day. What would everyone think? If news got back, Garry would give her milquetoast assignments the rest of her career.
She had to hold it together, though her churning stomach from hanging upside down over the side of the boat, then being yanked back made that pretty difficult.
“You’re hurt,” Jeff said, one of his arms clamping tightly around her. His sexy accent was like music to her ears, already soothing her ails. “Where did she get you?”
She looked at him, trying to appear steady and calm and not about to puke on his shoes. “Who?”
“You’re bit—she breeched so fast. Damn it—I didn’t even see her get you.”
His rapid-fire words, the pale, frantic look on his face… Confusion filled Sharona’s chest with the cold burn of panic.
“Bit? I don’t…” That’s when she noticed the blood. Before jumping to the most terrifying conclusion, she noted that all her fingers were intact and also that the pole she’d been holding, the one that was halfway gone now; the other half either in the stomach of a shark or on its way to Davy Jones’s Locker.
“It’s a cut.” She’d never had a weak stomach about blood, though it wasn’t exactly jolly seeing her own all over the white floor of the speedboat.
“Where?” Jeff gently took her wrist to look at her hand. “Too jagged for a shark bite,” he noted, examining her palm, sounding confused but relieved.
“It’s from the pole. I was trying to keep a grip on it when….” She had a sudden flash of the white underside, the black eye, rows of teeth. Oy.
Maybe thinking she was about to sway back, Jeff took her around the waist. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “It’s not a bad cut. I’ve had worse, I promise.” He pulled her to his chest, one hand rubbing her back.
She didn’t fight it; her hand did sting…a little bit. Besides, it felt really nice to have someone taking care of her for a change. With four younger siblings and an ex-fiancé who’d never learned to do his own laundry, she’d done most of the protecting and caretaking throughout her life. So she rested a cheek against Jeff’s firm chest, breathing in the smell of his shirt—now wet from the ocean—and listened to his words of comfort. She felt his heart beating, faster than hers.
Love Bites: A Sugar City Novella (Entangled Bliss) Page 7
