Had a cynical and mercenary treasure hunter really taken her for a fool? It didn’t seem possible when the time they’d spent together had been so magical. Surely Luke couldn’t have faked that?
“What the hell’s going on?” Issie demanded when Luke finally opened his cottage door, which she’d been pounding with her fists. Barging past him into the small hallway, she spun around, her braids flying. “Who the hell is Stella? And who the fuck are you?”
Luke closed the door. “While we’re playing a game of who the fuck is who, why don’t you tell me who Mark is? Or were you planning to keep your boyfriend a secret?”
“Oh no, you needn’t think you’re getting round it that way.” Hands on hips, Issie glowered at him. “Let’s not bring my ex into the equation.”
“Your ex? Didn’t look much like an ex to me.”
“If you’d stuck around instead of storming off in a huff you’d have been there to see me send him away,” Issie retorted. So Luke was jealous of Mark? That was interesting.
He looked at her long and hard. Was it relief she saw flicker in the depths of those jade eyes? “So you’re not in love with him then?”
“No, not that I need to justify myself to you. Are you in love with Stella?”
Luke threw back his head and laughed. The strong muscles in his throat rippled. “Hell, no! It’s nothing like that. Stella’s my sponsor.”
“For that paper you’re researching?” She was clutching at straws here, but Issie wanted so much for her worst fears to be nothing more than Teddy’s malicious lies. The thought that Luke might have used her stung like a lash.
But his answer was to shake his burnished curls. “I’m gonna level with you. There is no paper and there never was.”
“You’re not a student?”
His dark brows drew into a line. “Not anymore. Like you, I dropped out. I wanted to join the family business.”
“Treasure hunting,” she said bitterly. “Don’t bother to deny it. I can see the truth written all over your face.”
Luke sighed and held up his hands. “OK! I’m a professional treasure hunter. Google Mal Dawson and you’ll find all you need to know about my family. It’s what we’ve done for generations. We’re salvage experts.”
“So you lied to me.” It wasn’t a question, and tears she was too proud to shed blurred her vision. “You used me to find what you were looking for.”
“And you lied to me,” he shot back. “You never told me about you and this Mark.”
“Because there was no me and Mark!” She stamped her foot in frustration. “Like there’s apparently no you and Stella.”
“Since we’re being honest, you should know that there was a time when we were more than just business partners,” Luke confessed. “That’s over now though.”
Issie glared up at him. “And Stella knows this, does she?”
“Sure, she knows. She’s funded my trip here as an investment in the business, and business only. A very good investment as it’s turned out.”
Issie’s heart plummeted. “You’ve told her about what we found, haven’t you?”
His silence was all the answer she needed and Issie’s fight drained away.
It was too late. The secret was out and nothing she might say could change that. There weren’t words enough in the world to express just how betrayed she felt. Mark Tollen, her lost education and the pain he’d caused her were as nothing in comparison.
“What have you done?” Issie whispered. The tears spilled over her cheeks; she didn’t even try to hold them back now. “I thought you cared about Polwenna Bay. I even thought you cared about me, but it was just a pack of lies, wasn’t it? People like you only care about money. It doesn’t matter to you who gets hurt or what beautiful things are ruined in the process. As long as you have your cut then so what? Me, the village, everyone who welcomed you: we’re all expendable.”
“Issie, I swear it wasn’t like that—”
He stepped towards her and she recoiled. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare! You make me sick, Luke Dawson.” Her words were sobs now. Love and hate wrestled in her heart, but most of all she was furious with herself for being stupid enough to have trusted him in the first place. She’d handed a complete stranger the power to destroy the quiet village life that was her sanctuary and that of so many others, whether they lived here or not.
What had she done?
With a strangled cry, Issie shoved past Luke and fled down the path. She hoped with all her heart that she never laid eyes on him again.
Chapter 24
To say that Luke Dawson felt awful was an understatement. In fact, as he watched Issie run away through the cottage garden, he felt like a total bastard. Single-minded, determined and ambitious he might be, but Luke was also being brutally honest with himself now. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was in the wrong: he should have told Issie from the outset exactly why he was in the village and what it was he really did for a living.
He hadn’t been straight with her. Damn it, he’d as good as lied to her. There was no point sugar-coating it now, by leading her to believe he was a history student with a purely academic interest in the Isabella. He’d deliberately sought Issie out because of her connection with the coin and the legend, and he’d used her local knowledge in order to make contacts and follow leads that otherwise might well have evaded him.
No wonder Issie was so angry. After all, she was right wasn’t she? He had used her. Intentionally at first, which he wasn’t proud of, but then he’d pushed that to the back of his mind. As time had passed, Luke had found that he genuinely enjoyed Issie’s company. She was fun to be with, intelligent and as passionate about the treasure as he was. Every moment with her had flown. Her knowledge of the village and its history, not to mention the warm welcome of her friends and family, had made his stay in Polwenna Bay special. He knew that it would have remained in his memory forever, even if he hadn’t found the lost cargo.
Or fallen in love.
“Dammit!” Consumed with frustration, he slammed his fist into the cottage wall, barely noticing when the stone skinned his knuckles. Physical pain was preferable in any case to this dull ache in his chest. What did a bruised hand matter? Issie’s feelings were more than bruised, and seeing the hurt in her blue eyes and knowing that he’d caused it had been unbearable.
Should he have told her the truth earlier than this? Probably, if he’d been smart, but he’d got caught up in the romance of this quaint place and then made things ten times more complicated by becoming too close to Issie. That this hadn’t been part of some dastardly master plan was something he knew she was never going to believe. By the time he’d wanted to tell her the truth – and there had been several occasions when a confession had dithered on the tip of his tongue, like a nervous diver standing on the edge of the top board – it had felt too late and there’d been far too much to risk.
He realised now that his feelings for her were stronger than he’d ever imagined. The full extent of them had only become apparent when the unknown man had walked into the restaurant and claimed Issie. That guy was clearly no stranger to her, and the expression on her face had told Luke everything he needed to know. They were lovers. Of course they were. The second Luke had seen her reaction, loss and rage had knifed straight through him.
Issie had lied to him. She was with somebody else. She’d played Luke for a fool. Maybe she was the one using him.
Prompted by white-hot fury, Luke had barely recalled leaving the restaurant. His anger had been sharpened by self-loathing because, in a moment of weakness fuelled by his feelings for her, he’d decided to give up his dream of uncovering the treasure. Like an idiot, he’d almost put a woman above his career.
Almost.
Before he’d known what he was doing, Luke had called Stella. It may have been morning in the Caribbean, but his news had soon put paid to any objections she had to being woken up. As he’d described the find, she’d shrieked so loudly that he coul
d almost hear her without Skype. Barely a few minutes later, Stella had decided to fly to London and meet up with him. There they would complete and send off the relevant form to register the discovery with the Receiver of Wreck, before deciding what to do next.
“You do have proof?” Stella had asked. “I’ll need proof.”
“Hell, yeah. I have pictures.”
“Great! So email them already.”
He’d laughed at this. “Honey, if you were me would you send out a copy of evidence like that? Who knows how secure emails are? I’m not saying I don’t trust you but—”
“You don’t trust me.” Stella had laughed too. “Smart guy. I wouldn’t trust me either, in your shoes. Or anyone else, especially if you’ve found what you think you have. Keep the proof close, huh? That’s cool. I can wait a little longer. Does anyone else know about this?”
“Nobody who’ll say anything.” Of this, Luke was one hundred percent certain. Issie’s first reaction had been concern about the consequences for Polwenna Bay. She wouldn’t want to tell anyone. Unlike Stella, Issie couldn’t have given two hoots about the money; she only cared about the village. In spite of his anger with her, Luke had felt another twinge of regret.
Christ. This wasn’t a good time to start developing a conscience.
When the call had ended, Luke had walked back to his cottage. He was still fuming after Issie’s betrayal, but the thought of his own dive boat, a professional crew and a massive budget had gone a long way towards calming him down. Returning to the sunshine was also a welcome thought. Hell, back home there would be plenty of gorgeous girls in bikinis to take his mind off Issie Tremaine. Screw her anyway. He was made and his future was secured. This visit to England had been a big success, even if right now it didn’t feel that way.
Once back in his cottage, Luke had cracked open a celebratory Bud, although he didn’t feel much like drinking it, and had made a start on his packing. He’d figured there was nothing to stay for now, so his best bet was to drive to London. Provided no maniacs in gold Rolls Royces had blocked him in, of course. Jeez. This was a crazy place full of lunatics; the sooner Luke was gone the better.
He’d already put his bag by the door, and was only minutes from leaving, when Issie Tremaine had come storming up the path to turn his world inside out and upside down. In hardly any time at all she’d scaled the walls of his carefully constructed self-justifications, knocked down the arguments that moments before had seemed so solid, and sent firebombs of guilt into the carefully defended depths of his heart.
Alone now and with her words still ringing in his ears, Luke paced the kitchen. He knew in his gut that she was right.
He had lied to her. He had used her. Luke couldn’t deny these accusations, even if his feelings for her had changed somewhere along the way. No wonder Issie was so angry. And – just to make everything even worse – now that Stella knew the truth, the way of life in Polwenna Bay was about to change forever. All because of him.
Beyond his window the village was basking in wintry sunlight, and above the cottages the January woods were dressed in russets and browns. The cool breeze drifting into the kitchen smelt of salt and damp earth and rotting leaves; smells that Luke knew would for the rest of his life send him hurtling back to this place. Polwenna was a world away from the brazen sunshine and bright citrus hues of Florida, but it had an aching beauty all of its own. Like Issie Tremaine, it had managed to steal into his heart and soul.
Luke grabbed his coat and was striding down the path and through the village before he’d even made a plan. Issie’s words had cut him to the core and all he could think about now was trying to make amends. The sun was still shining down but he was barely aware of it, or of spring’s promise in the air. There was nothing for him but the bleakness of a future without Issie. Life was a bad joke, wasn’t it? Now that he’d found the very thing he’d thought he wanted the most, Luke Dawson suddenly realised that it was meaningless. Black Jack’s treasure could remain hidden forever for all he cared: Luke only knew that he had to put things right with Issie. He tried her cell phone, but there was no answer, so Luke turned and made for the cliffs. He figured she must have headed for Seaspray, the Tremaine family’s big house that stood sentinel over the village.
The climb up dragged the breath from his lungs but Luke hardly noticed this, or the dizzying view of the village falling away below him. Ignoring the doorbell, he hammered on the door with his hands.
“Issie! Issie! We need to talk!”
But there was no answer. Luke knocked again and then, shielding his eyes against the sunshine, stepped backwards to crane his neck up at the house just in case Issie was looking out of her bedroom window.
“She’s not there.”
A tall figure stood at the top of the path, outlined against the blue sky. As soon as the person had stepped out of the brightness, Luke recognised that it was Issie’s brother-in-law, Ashley Carstairs.
“Where is she? Where’s Issie?” Luke demanded. He didn’t intend to be rude, but urgency was robbing him of the ability to make small talk.
“Calm down. She’s with Mo up at Mariners,” Ashley said. His dark eyes were keen as they regarded Luke. “I don’t know what’s happened between you two, and I don’t want to, but she’s pretty angry.”
Luke sighed heavily. “She’s right to be. I’ve messed up, Ashley, messed up real bad. I’ll go find her.”
But Ashley shook his head. “Not a good idea, mate. First of all, I’m not having my wife upset under any circumstances at the moment, and secondly I’m afraid you’re the last person Issie wants to see. As I said, I don’t know what’s happened between you, but she’s made that part very clear. Right now the women are deep in discussion, and I suspect you’re the hot topic of conversation.”
Luke would have put money on it. “I can’t stay away. I need to see her. I have to explain what happened.”
“I’m not having Mo upset for anyone, do you hear me?” There was an edge of pure steel in Ashley’s voice; this was not a man to be messed with.
“I won’t upset your wife,” Luke told him. “I just need to talk to Issie.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think she wants to hear anything you have to say. From what I overheard, she thinks you’re just another man who’s betrayed her trust,” Ashley replied.
“But I have to make her understand!”
Ashley lifted his hands in an expressive gesture. “Can I give you some advice, my friend? As someone who knows the Tremaine women a little better than you?”
Luke felt defeated. If Issie didn’t want to speak to him and wouldn’t take his calls, what else could he do? “I guess so.”
“You can try and explain all day long. It won’t make any difference.” Ashley stated. “I know that sounds bleak, but there’s no point my softening the blow and letting you waste your time. Issie’s like Mo. Once they make up their minds about something it’s bloody hard to persuade a Tremaine to change their mind. Mo changed hers about me, thank God, but it certainly took some doing.”
Ashley was a multimillionaire. He’d probably smothered Mo Tremaine in jewellery, Luke thought bleakly. Of course, the irony was that Luke could use the same tactic, now that he’d found his fortune. Not that it would help.
“I’m not talking about buying presents,” Ashley remarked, correctly reading Luke’s thoughts. “That would be easy, but women like Mo and Issie don’t care about stuff. They’re worth more than that. They can’t be bought.” His lips twitched. “Believe me, I’ve bought a lot of perfume and shoes in my time. That was easy and usually very effective. When I found a woman who preferred eau de horse and whose idea of shoe-shopping was to have the farrier visit, I was really stuck. Issie might not be horse mad, but she’s a lot more like her sister than most people think.”
“So what did you do?”
“I had to prove to Mo that my love for her was real,” Ashley said. “It really is true that actions speak louder than words – and rather than chasi
ng Issie Tremaine halfway around the village and shouting, you need to show her how you feel. You need to do something that will prove to Issie beyond all reasonable doubt that you’re genuine.”
Luke nodded slowly. Yes, that made perfect sense. He’d lied to Issie and betrayed her trust. Why should she believe another word that came out of his mouth? She’d think everything he said was another cynical ploy, and who could blame her when he’d misled her from the moment they’d first met?
Ashley kept his eyes fixed on Luke. “I have a pretty good idea why you’re really here and what you really do,” he said softly. “From what I saw, you certainly seem to know how to handle a boat. And as for your intricate knowledge of exploring wreck sites, well… I’m afraid something just doesn’t add up. My guess is that you’re not working on an academic project at all. I can also imagine why you and Issie have fallen out.”
Silence fell for a moment.
“You don’t miss a lot, do you?” Luke said.
“You don’t make millions in the city by going around with your eyes shut,” Ashley answered. “But this isn’t about me, is it? This is about you and how you can put things right. If you really want to, that is.”
“Oh, I want to,” Luke affirmed, his voice charged with emotion.
“Then take some advice from someone who really knows what he’s talking about here,” Ashley said. “There are some things in life worth far more than treasure and money. There are riches beyond your wildest dreams if you only know where to look.”
Luke exhaled. It was clear to him what Ashley meant by this. Luke had already found treasure, hadn’t he? Before he’d even arrived in Polwenna Bay, fate had given him the biggest clue as to where the real treasure was to be found – only he’d been too blind and too greedy to realise it.
Luke Dawson knew exactly how to prove to Issie Tremaine that she could trust him. After that, whether or not she wanted to be with him would be entirely down to her.
Chapter 25
As if in keeping with Issie’s mood, the weather had decided that it was time to forget bright sunshine and clear skies and instead empty the heavens onto the village. The day following Alice and Jonny’s engagement lunch had dawned grey and sodden; sea and sky merged with mucky sand and dark slimy rocks, until the whole scene resembled a single leaden smear. Any Tremaines at home were having a quiet day. In Seaspray’s cosy sitting room Alice and Jonny were making a list of wedding guests; Jimmy was using the laptop and Nick was slumped on the sofa sleeping off his Sunday lunch. Even Symon was having a rare afternoon away from the restaurant, and was currently relaxing in a chair by the fireside, flicking through the papers.
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