by MJ Fredrick
She wriggled the rest of the way out of her shirt, the movement causing interesting sensations where their hips met. Sensations he wanted to explore further. But she was moving, her legs tightening about him as she tried to sit up, sliding her hands over his bare chest, her fingers exploring the grooves of muscle, moving so lightly he had to grit his teeth against the pleasure. As she touched him, she held his gaze, as if looking away would break the spell. Okay. So he wouldn’t look away, either, even as she leaned in for another kiss.
He linked his arms behind her hips and dragged her closer, positioning her heat right over his erection. He reached down the back of her panties, squeezed, and she rolled against him. Oh, man. Much more of that and he wouldn’t last long.
Okay, maybe one more time. He ground his teeth and broke eye contact to slip his hand between them, finding her center of pleasure easily, with the practice of a thousand times. He caught her head with his free hand and dipped his mouth to her throat. As his teeth scraped the sensitive skin above her collarbone, she pressed against him and exploded.
That was all he could take. His hunger for her devoured the last of his selflessness.
“Adrian.” His name came out a throaty growl as she reached for him.
The blood pounded in his ears. Now. Now. Now. He reached under her arms and lifted her over him, straddling him, her hair falling between them, stroking his already sensitized skin, feeding his need.
And then he was inside her, driving into her, his hands splayed on her hips, holding her as he nuzzled the line of her throat.
Not good enough. He couldn’t get deep enough. He tumbled her onto her back and hooked her legs around his elbows. Her cry broke through his desire-maddened haze. She looked so pale against the dark comforter, and he could see the marks his stubble and teeth left on her skin.
Damn, not again. He would not leave bruises on her again.
“Did I hurt you?” he rasped, struggling for control, for sanity, which hovered just out of reach.
She shook her head, her eyes a little frantic. With shaking hands, he smoothed her hair back, holding still inside her when every instinct told him to take her. He lowered his head to kiss her softly, ignoring her attempts to make the kiss more erotic. With his body buried in hers, he gave her a courting kiss, gentle, exploring.
She eased beneath him, opening to him, wrapping her arms around him, sliding her hands over him in the rhythm of the kiss.
It was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever felt in his life.
He started to move, slowly, easing in and out of her in a pace he’d never attempted and now he regretted the lack. He could feel so much more this way.
She started trembling beneath him, violently, and tossed her head back. He continued the excruciating pace until he drew a keening sound from her, felt the flutter of her muscles around him. He dragged it out as long as he could before they both tumbled into pleasure.
Adrian’s movements were jerky as he checked his gear, his jaw locked. They’d anchored over the wreckage of The Mysterious Miss M and prepared to dive, to look for some sign of Toney and the others. Fear bubbled in Mallory’s own throat. She didn’t want to be the one to discover the bodies, but worse, she didn’t want Adrian to find his brother, not like this.
But she couldn’t ask him to wait. She leaned over to inspect the gauges on his tanks and squeezed his shoulder. He grimaced, turned her to give her own gauges a once-over, then tucked the regulator between clenched teeth and tumbled over the side of the boat.
For the first time since she’d dived this trip, the water didn’t calm her. In fact, the deeper she swam, the tighter her stomach knotted. Ahead of her, Adrian’s strokes were strong and sure. Determined.
Prayers she thought she’d forgotten how to say bubbled up in her mind. “Please don’t let them be down here. Please don’t let us find them. Please let them be safe somewhere.”
But as they approached the wreckage, she had to wonder where they could be, and how they could have gotten anywhere without the boat or truck.
God, the boat was a mess, her red and white hull splintered, the pieces scattered in some places, piled in others. Adrian swam toward a pile, began lifting pieces, pushing them aside. Mallory watched before she followed. If he found something, she wanted to be there for him.
Together they worked, flipping pieces aside that were heavier than they looked. Mallory found herself holding her breath with each piece of debris, so scared of what they’d find under it. She chanced a glimpse at Adrian, saw only the grimness in his eyes. He didn’t even glance in her direction.
Shutting her out again, only this time she was grateful.
In the end they found nothing, though they left no debris unturned. Adrian silently stripped off his gear once they reached the deck. Mallory didn’t say anything but waited for him to speak, willed him to cut the tension. But he only stowed his gear and turned into the cabin. When she followed, she saw he had his head in the refrigerator. He pulled out a carton of ice cream and tossed it on the table so it wobbled on its rim, then settled. He opened a drawer with more force than necessary and pulled out a spoon.
He was going to eat ice cream? He couldn’t find his brother so he was going to indulge in chocolate. Okay, she wasn’t going to wait for him to go first.
“What are you doing?”
“Celebrating.” But nothing in his demeanor, his voice, his expression, seemed the least bit joyful. “My brother is not on the bottom of the ocean, at least not here. So we need to celebrate. Grab a spoon.” He motioned with his spoon toward the drawer but didn’t look at her.
“Adrian.”
He scooped a bite of ice cream into his mouth and shook his head. “Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“That it’s too soon to celebrate, that we still don’t have any answers, that, Jesus, for all we know, they’re in pieces down there.”
“Adrian!”
He scooped another spoonful, held it over the container and glared at her. “What? You want me to be positive? Where can they be? They’re either dead or taken. I don’t know what else to do.” He jammed the spoon into the ice cream and stepped away from it, his hands on his hips, his head down. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“They’re safe. They have to be. They’re somewhere looking for us. They’ll realize we’re here and come back.”
He didn’t look at her. “I wish I could be that hopeful.”
She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek between his shoulder blades. “I’ll hold out hope for all of us.”
Adrian’s expression was grim, even as he tucked into his eggs and bacon the next morning. His mind was already on the ship below. He’d barely looked at her this morning. Okay, well, since they got out of bed, because he’d been very, very attentive when she’d woken up, almost reverent.
She knew him well enough to know he was going to make a decision that would piss her off.
“I want you to stay on the boat when I dive.”
She stiffened at his decision, but made every effort to keep calm. “You can’t excavate by yourself.”
“I can’t risk you.”
She folded her arms on the table. “Really. What do you think you can get done down there without me?”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “It’s a safety issue, not a reflection on your abilities, Mallory.”
She lifted a brow. “You stay and I’ll go down.”
“Ah.” He wagged a finger at her. “I was here first.”
“But it would make more sense for you to stay. You’re stronger. If anything happens while I’m diving, it will be easier for you to bring me up than for me to bring you up.”
He rubbed the side of his hand over his upper lip, his gaze steady on hers. Was he considering it?
“Okay. We both go. That way I can keep an eye on you.”
She might have known he wouldn’t give up his chance to get in the water. Still, she had to clarify.
“We just leave the boat unattended?”
“We secure her to the best of our abilities, lock up everything we can, lash her to the barge, anchor her and hope for the best. Either way is risky, Mallory. I wasn’t crazy about leaving you topside alone anyway.”
“The alternative is to wait for more divers to show up.”
He made a face. “Now’s not the time to bring in more people, not until we have some answers.”
“So you called Jeff already to hold off on the divers.”
“Before we left the city.” He tapped the tines of his fork against the plate.
“But you don’t want to wait to check the site.”
He sat forward, both arms on the table. “I can’t wait.”
“Then we go.” She stood, pushing her plate toward him. “I believe since I cooked, you do the dishes.”
After they cleaned up, they donned their new gear and dived. The site was in good shape. Relief damn near buoyed Adrian to the surface when they rolled back the rubber tarp to see the bronze masthead intact. They’d have to wait for Jeff’s divers to raise it once this was all done, but knowing it was still there, that it hadn’t gone missing, eased his mind. He glanced over at Mallory and saw the smile in her eyes behind her goggles.
They had discussed making the casket their priority over the next few days, so Mallory gave the lion’s head a gentle pat and swam down the belly of the boat to excavate a new area.
God, he loved her. He loved the graceful movement of her legs as she finned to stay in place, loved the concentration, the gentleness of her hands as she stroked away the sand. He loved that she’d stowed away to be with him, ignoring his own stubborn high-handedness. Yes, he’d thought he was right—he still wished she’d gone so he’d know she was safe, but he loved that she was with him.
He loved her. So he joined her.
The two of them, in their limited time, weren’t able to accomplish much, and the alarm on his watch went off too soon. Together they swam to the first decompression stop, and he twined his legs about hers, rubbed his heel against the back of her calf, letting her know what they’d be doing once they surfaced. Already he could sense the storm above them, stirring up the water. They could make love while the rain pounded. It’d be nice not to worry about a leaking tent.
The minute they reached the boat, he stripped off his mask, spat out his regulator and reached for her. Above them, clouds churned, obscuring the sun. Only the running lights of the boat illuminated them. She laughed and scrambled over the edge of the boat, where her laughter cut off abruptly, a dying echo over the ocean. Alarmed, Adrian heaved himself up and over the side.
“Good evening, Adrian.” Valentine Smoller sat at the small table, leaning back in the chair, his eyes narrowed. “It’s been a long time. Mallory, I’m surprised to see you here after all you told me about Adrian.” He looked from one to the other. “The reunion agrees with you.”
Chapter Sixteen
In a split second, Adrian scanned the area. A man approximately the width of a gorilla stood behind Smoller, way too close to Mallory for Adrian’s comfort. Two more stood on the barge, stances defensive, armed probably. Past them, Adrian saw another boat, bigger than this, moored to the barge on the opposite side.
“Where’s my brother, you son of a bitch?” Adrian stepped forward, grabbing Mallory’s arm and pulling her behind him. He whipped his dive knife out of the sheath at his thigh and plunged it into the table, inches from Smoller’s hand.
The man behind Smoller tensed, but Smoller didn’t do more than temple his fingers and smile. “Your brother and students are with me, all fine, thanks to me. Seems their boat blew up and I came along just in time.”
“I’ll bet,” Adrian growled.
Smoller’s eyes widened innocently. “I admit it was bad luck, but then, you’re the one who believes these boxes are cursed. I haven’t found that to be the case.”
“Are they hurt? I want to see them.”
“They’re fine and you’ll be seeing them soon. But first, you and I have business to discuss.” Smoller gestured to a chair across from him, waited.
He wanted to believe Smoller’s words, wanted to believe his brother and students were safe, but couldn’t trust anything what man said. “I have no business with you. I just want my crew returned.” Anger tightened his throat so his voice was a growl.
“Really? Is that all you want? You get your crew, you get on your boat and leave the site?”
Adrian went rigid. Of course that wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted the site. He’d worked for it, damn it, paid for it. And the sight of smug Valentine Smoller, looking as he had three years ago, cool, righteous… Adrian hated the man having the upper hand.
“You should be aware we alerted the Belize Defence Force,” Mallory said, her tone cutting.
Smoller narrowed his eyes as he kept his gaze on Adrian. “Did you really? I find it hard to believe you were ready to sacrifice everything to keep me from having this.”
“I was ready to sacrifice everything to get my brother and my crew back,” Adrian said through his teeth. “What are you willing to sacrifice?”
Smoller’s gaze sharpened. “Do you want me to answer that? Really, Adrian. A lot of trouble just so I can’t get my payoff.”
Adrian’s mouth tightened in a rictus of a grin. “Oh, I’m willing to do a lot more.”
“Is that so?” Smoller inclined his head to address the man behind him. “Disarm them.”
Adrian’s gut clenched at the idea of that man’s hands on Mallory. “Don’t touch her.”
Smoller rolled his eyes at Mallory. “So this is the behavior that excites you, this he-man business?” He turned to Adrian. “Fine. You disarm your wife. And be warned, if I find you missed anything, she will be the one to suffer the consequences.”
“Always the gentleman,” Adrian muttered, stepping in front of Mal to take her dive knife, blocking her from Smoller’s view. She searched his face as he unsheathed the tool that would make a lethal weapon.
As much as he despised the man behind him, as much as every nerve screamed threat, Adrian couldn’t take the risk of attacking. The men on the barge had weapons, and the man behind Smoller as well. And Adrian didn’t know where his crew was. Adrian shook his head almost imperceptibly. He liberated the other knife as well, then placed them on the table, feeling Mallory’s frustration and disappointment behind him.
Smoller pushed a whiskey bottle—Adrian’s whiskey bottle—toward him in silent invitation. Adrian ignored it.
“Where’s my brother?”
“Let’s not be tiresome. Let’s talk about the ship.”
“Let’s talk about the man you left dead in camp and the boat you blew up.”
Smoller stretched to look around him at Mallory. “You’re right, he does have a wild imagination.”
Adrian understood that he was trying to appear in collusion with Mallory and refused to let himself be baited. “You do know the professor is dead.”
“Your crew mentioned it. I know what the man meant to you.” Smoller’s eyes glinted, but he didn’t offer condolences.
Adrian leaned forward. “You said my brother and the others are safe. I want proof.”
Smoller made a clucking sound. “Do you always have such trust issues? Very well. You tell me if you’ve found the casket and I’ll let you see your brother.”
“We haven’t found it,” Mallory said quickly.
Adrian tightened his shoulders, cursing himself for revealing his frustration. Smoller thought he had trust issues. Clearly Mallory didn’t believe he’d make the right choices here.
Not the time to dwell on that, not when all his wits needed to be focused on his nemesis. “She’s telling the truth. We haven’t found anything yet.”
Smoller touched the hilt of Mallory’s knife on the table, spun it closer to him, though not quite out of Adrian’s reach. “I do wish I could believe you, but the way she answered so quickly makes me think you’re hiding something.”<
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“We may have uncovered the captain’s quarters, but we can’t be sure. There’s no casket so far.” Adrian struggled to keep his tone even, his attention on the knife.
Smoller waved a hand. “This is not news to me. Don’t you think your crew told me what I wanted to know? You’re talking to me easily enough. I honestly thought it would take more effort on my behalf.”
“I just want to see my brother, make sure the others are all right.” Adrian felt the strain in his throat as he tried to keep from begging.
“Bargaining, my most useful tool. All right. I see we won’t get anywhere unless I give you what you want.” He signaled one of his men on the barge, who in turn signaled the boat. Three forms stepped from Smoller’s boat onto the flat surface of the barge.
Adrian cast a glance at Smoller. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be. I need them to come closer.”
Smoller grumbled but called in French for them to approach, then halt. Adrian recognized his brother’s shape.
“Are you all right?” he called in Gaelic, the language the two of them had studied as boys to communicate without their father understanding.
“For now,” Toney responded in kind.
Relief at hearing his brother’s voice had all his muscles quivering. Smoller must have seen it, for he called for the others to return to their quarters, then turned to Adrian.
“I need you to bring it up.”
The revelation that his brother was alive may have turned his insides to jelly, but it also hardened his resolve that this man would get nothing of his. “Bring it up yourself, or are you so afraid of the curse?”
Smoller slashed a glance toward Mallory. “Really, Adrian, you’re a scientist. You don’t believe there’s a curse.”
“So why do you need me to bring it up? You’re surely not planning to offer me credit.”
“No, not credit. But I do need your expertise. The crew I used in Florida nearly destroyed the damn thing. I know you’ll take the proper care.”
“I don’t particularly feel helpful.”
