The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series)

by Pamela Browning

  "Flippant this morning, aren't we? Your night with Ponce has cheered you up."

  "I didn't have any 'night with Ponce.' And I'd just as soon not talk with you, if you don't mind." She turned away, refusing to look at him.

  He dodged around to her other side, commanding her attention. "I saw you two on deck last night staring into each others' eyes. If a passionate night didn't follow, then Ponce Cabrera isn't half the man he's reputed to be."

  "He's twice the man you'll ever be," Alix retorted hotly, whirling to walk away, but he caught her by the arm.

  "Are you sure about that? Maybe I should refresh your memory a bit."

  She shook his hand off and fixed him with an outraged glare before stalking away to the bridge, where Ponce was holding an informal meeting with Troll and John.

  Ponce greeted her warmly.

  "Do you think it's El Primero?" asked Alix.

  "Let's see what the crew brings up," cautioned John.

  "I'm optimistic," said Ponce. He seemed fired with a new enthusiasm.

  There was a shout as divers surfaced one by one. John rushed to look at what they had found. As the marine archaeologist, he was best qualified to determine if their findings were of the right period to be from El Primero de Mayo.

  George had brought up a plank of solid oak, very old, and Mike had found what appeared to be a container of some sort, covered with coral. Chuck had seen an anchor, half buried in sand.

  "Any sign of the remains of the hull?" Ponce asked.

  The divers shook their heads. Cargo from a wreck could be strewn over many miles, and after all this time, none of them expected to find a whole ship intact beneath the sea. It usually took weeks or months, even years, to pinpoint a hull if one had survived.

  Everyone looked expectantly at Ponce to see what his orders would be.

  But there were no orders. Instead he gathered the crew around him on the deck as he often did for briefings.

  He cleared his throat. "I think it's about time," he said, looking from one to another of the crew members, "that you knew what we're searching for out here." He paused dramatically.

  "If our information is correct, we're looking for the jewels of King Philip the Fifth of Spain," he said.

  This information was stunning in its impact on the crew. Eyes widened, mouths dropped open, and incredulous looks were exchanged.

  "Ponce," said Mike, who recovered faster than anyone, "those jewels went down with a ship in the 1715 hurricane. No one knows where they are."

  "We think we do," said Ponce with barely suppressed elation. "New information has revealed the existence of a sister ship to El Grifon, the only ship to weather that storm. The sister ship was called El Primero de Mayo, and the fact that she went down in these waters has been a secret until now. Even more of a secret was the fact that King Philip's jewels were being transported on El Primero, not on any of the other ships in the convoy."

  "And you think that this shipwreck we've just found could be this El Primero?" asked Chuck.

  "I do," said Ponce with the utmost conviction.

  Suddenly there was an outbreak of applause.

  "We're with you, Ponce," called someone from the back of the group.

  Alix took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Morale had been restored aboard Minorcan.

  But no, her eyes fell on Daniel, who looked skeptical. Well, Daniel was a born wet blanket.

  "Let's get on with it, then," said Ponce briskly. "Alix, prepare to dive. I want pictures of the anchor so that John can try to determine if it could be from El Primero. Troll, Zack and I will dive with you. Zack, you and Troll plan to look for artifacts in the wreck."

  Alix's fingers trembled with excitement as she zipped her wet suit. When she hit the water, she submerged and immediately looked for Ponce, who had gone ahead of her.

  Ponce's eyes crinkled at her encouragingly through his mask, and he beckoned her to follow him. Exhaust bubbles fluttered upward as she descended; they whirled in a silvery spiral above her.

  At fifty feet or so the aquamarine water dulled to blue-gray, decreasing visibility. Because the water was calm, sand and debris did not cloud it, and sunlight dimly penetrated to the bottom.

  Ponce saw the anchor immediately, and Alix followed him to it. She took several pictures of the anchor from different angles, taking care to allow for the distortion of image that occurred at these depths.

  When she had finished with the anchor, she and Ponce stopped to watch a large school of jack, their bright silver scales flashing iridescent as they swam past. Sea currents generated by the fishes' passage floated across her body like fluttering silk scarves.

  "This way," Ponce urged, his voice coming in clear through the speakers in her helmet. They skirted a giant sponge on the floor of the ocean and swam quickly past brightly colored sea anemones. Ponce gestured at bricks scattered helter-skelter over the sand and indicated that he wanted Alix to photograph them.

  "I've found a cannon!" Ponce called as she was taking the last shot of the bricks. She hurried to photograph the cannon, which was slightly buried in sand and heavily encrusted with coral.

  She saw Ponce check his watch. "We're almost out of air. You can get pictures of the cannon next time."

  They rejoined Zack and Troll, who had gathered a basket full of artifacts.

  "Looks like you found something," Ponce observed.

  "But is it something important?" Troll sounded dubious. The rest of them treated Troll's question as rhetorical.

  With a regretful look backward, Alix pushed off from the bottom with one flippered foot and followed the other divers upward, pausing when they did in order to decompress, then continuing to the surface.

  She loaded the photos into the ship's computer and waited as John looked them over. "I can't tell much about the age of this wreck from the articles you've brought up," John said. He clicked through the pictures. "These bricks could be the remains of the ship's oven, and I can't date the anchor. I'd like to see photos of the cannon because often they were embossed with a date or a seal that would give us an idea of the ship's age."

  "I'm ready to dive again," said Alix quickly. She glanced at Ponce, who was leaning over her shoulder to look.

  He smiled at her. "All right. Suit up."

  But before Alix could get into her wet suit, there was a cry from Stan, who was standing lookout on the port side.

  "Sharks!" he called.

  Everyone ran to the rails of the ship. Circling Minorcan, slightly submerged, were three brown sharks. As they watched, the sharks were joined by others until they numbered about fifteen ranging from five to 12 feet long.

  "I can go down in the shark proof cage and shoot my pictures from there," Alix suggested.

  "No," Ponce said sharply. "It's too risky."

  "But Ponce—" Alix wanted nothing so much as to get pictures of the cannon.

  "I said no," he said. "Look, the cage is safe—those are iron bars and they're spaced close enough so that even if a shark bumps into them he's not likely to penetrate it. But the cage is suspended in the water by an iron cable, which isn't so sturdy. The cage is good when we only suspect sharks may be in the area. But I'm not letting anyone dive deliberately into a pack of brutes like these. Especially not you."

  Along with the others, Alix watched the sharks skulking around the ship.

  "My guess is that they're ready to feed," said Stan. "They're hoping that Minorcan will provide a meal."

  Ponce looked grim. "Not if I can help it," he said.

  "I just wish they'd disappear," Alix said with feeling.

  Finally, with great resolve, Ponce said, "No more diving today."

  It was as though someone had popped their bubble. The crew wandered off one by one, looking more disheartened than ever. Alix felt it, too, but she cautioned herself not to become discouraged so easily. One more day of waiting would not make that much difference.

  By the next morning the sharks had disappeared. After a quick briefing, Ponce
gave the order to dive, and the crew became energized.

  "Alix, you and Troll get ready. I'll go down with you, since I'd like to have a look around. We'll use the cage in case there are any sharks still hanging about," said Ponce.

  The three of them suited up as quickly as they could. Amid well-wishing from the crew, Alix, Ponce and Troll climbed into the cage, and they were slowly lowered into the water.

  When the cage came to rest on the floor of the ocean, the cannon was within easy range of Alix's camera.

  John, still on the ship, was able to direct her through voice communication while he monitored her work through the closed-circuit video camera on her helmet.

  "Lean to your left," he said. "Zoom in."

  Alix adjusted her position and shot through the bars in the cage, which was difficult and frustrating. She wanted to take pictures from other angles, so she asked, "Any sign of sharks?"

  "No," said Troll. "Not a one."

  "Ponce, I'd like to get out of the cage." Her eyes behind the glass in her helmet beseeched him.

  "All right. Ease out slowly, and Troll and I will follow. We'll keep watch."

  Alix did as Ponce said, intent on getting the pictures John would need in order to identify the cannon. As she swam closer, she could see no identifying marks on the cannon due to its encrustment with coral growth. She maneuvered into a position that would enable her to take two more shots from a different angle. The sluggish movement nearby barely caught her eye.

  "Alix!" exclaimed Ponce, his voice crackling over the radio. It held a note of—what?

  In sudden alarm Alix swung her camera down. Her eyes widened, and her heart almost stopped. She had disturbed a huge nurse shark which had been lying motionless below a ledge! The shark was so close she could have reached out and touched it. She stared into the gaping jaws, unable to move.

  Ponce was at her side in an instant. His touch urged her into motion. She remembered her diving instructor's warnings: If you encounter a shark, move quietly and calmly. Stay close to your buddy. Control breathing and buoyancy. Stay vertical so you'll look less like prey. Do not threaten the shark.

  "Alix, go back to the cage."

  She pushed off toward the shark cage with Ponce behind her.

  Troll had seen the danger. At the cage he was already holding the door open for them. After they brushed past him to safety he followed them and slammed the door.

  The nurse shark, a slow-moving species not given to attacking people unless provoked, zigzagged lazily toward them. Alix's heart pounded as the big fish slowly nudged against the bars. The shark was a good fourteen feet long, and suddenly she didn't feel safe despite the bars between them.

  Ponce had already signaled the crew to raise the cage. By this time the great creature was meandering away, but when it noticed the cage's ascent, it followed, its round eyes staring blankly into theirs and somehow conveying a feeling of deepest menace. Those eyes chilled Alix, and when at last she stood on deck, she was shivering uncontrollably.

  "We were lucky it was only a nurse," gasped Ponce when they had removed their helmets. "They're less vicious than most. Alix, are you all right?"

  "Y-yes," she managed to say. She felt cold to the marrow of her bones.

  "You need a cup of your own hot coffee. Come with me." Ponce helped her out of her wet suit, and the rest of the crew, after assuring themselves that the divers were indeed safe, turned their attention to watching for other sharks. There was a shout when the big nurse rubbed against the unoccupied inflatable boat off the starboard bow, almost capsizing it.

  When they were alone in the wardroom, far removed from the hubbub on deck, Ponce poured her a cup of coffee and placed it in Alix's shaking hands. She sipped from it, scarcely able to hold the cup to her lips.

  "Was that your first experience with a shark?"

  She nodded. "I've thought about what I'd do if I ever encountered one," she said, beginning to shiver again. "I always thought I'd be more brave than I actually was."

  Ponce took the cup from her and set it on the table. He took her in his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, suddenly very tired. Her shivers subsided slightly as she realized that she was safe and secure within his embrace.

  "When I saw the shark, before I realized that it was only a nurse, I almost panicked. I've never panicked underwater before, Alix. I was so afraid that something would happen to you." His voice was caring, tender.

  "You got me moving," she murmured, closing her eyes and listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I froze when I saw it." Despite the comfort of his arms around her, her voice still quavered.

  "Alix, I'm so thankful that you're all right. So thankful." Ponce's voice cracked on the last word, and their arms tightened around each other.

  * * *

  John called them to his office to look at the photos of the cannon.

  "It's of the right time period," he said with unconcealed excitement. "I'd like to get a closer look."

  Ponce agreed. "As soon as I'm convinced that there aren't any more sharks lurking about, we'll bring it aboard."

  It was two sharkless days later before Ponce felt there was no longer any danger and gave the order to retrieve the cannon. Two teams of divers prepared to descend to the wreck, and Daniel was among them. Ponce was fortunate to have him on the crew, Alix thought, despite her own strong personal feelings against him.

  It took all of the daylight hours to dig the heavy cannon out of its watery bed plus more time to rig the winch and pulley to hoist it onto the deck. When the task was completed, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. They were all so exhausted by the day's labors that there was no thought of removing the thick covering of coral from the cannon's seven-foot length. They all fell into their beds early that night.

  Alix was up before everyone else the next morning. She dressed quickly and hurried to the wardroom for a quick breakfast. She could wield a sledgehammer as well as any other crew member, despite her size, and she wanted to be present if a date on the cannon was uncovered.

  But she wasn't the first one up after all. Ponce was in the wardroom, leaning against the wall and sipping a glass of orange juice.

  She was happy to see that he seemed in a more relaxed, almost relieved, mood.

  "So are we sure that this is El Primero?" she ventured as she poured cereal into a bowl.

  "We're sure that it's a wreck," Ponce said wryly. "If not, we have a problem."

  "Speaking of wreck, that's about how I feel this morning," said Troll, appearing in the doorway. The little man was as bright-eyed as ever, but there were deep circles under his eyes. "I hardly slept at all last night."

  "You're too much of a worrywart," Ponce told him with a grin. "Let me do the worrying for all of us. I can't afford to have my navigator out of sorts, just in case we have to pick up and move today."

  "That's exactly what I'm worried about," groaned Troll.

  Despite the suspense, the crew seemed in good spirits as they chipped away at the coral on the cannon with sledgehammers and chisels. John was the one who finally located the date, and the rest of them dropped their tools as he worked to uncover each number in turn.

  "That's a seventeen," said Alix excitedly. The first two numbers placed the year the cannon was made in the correct century, but she knew that the last two numbers had to indicate that the cannon was manufactured before 1715, the year that El Primero and the other ships in the Spanish convoy sank to their watery grave.

  Alix held her breath as John worked at the last two numbers; everyone on deck was completely silent. Ponce put an arm around her waist, and she could feel the coiled tension in him.

  John's chisel blocked their view of the next-to-the-last number. When John had completed his work he leaned back suddenly, his shoulders slumping. The number was a 6, meaning that the cannon had been cast in the 1760s. This cannon was from a ship of a date too late to be El Primero de Mayo.

  A collective sigh went up from the crew, a sound of bitter disappointme
nt. No one spoke; no one trusted himself to speak. They had all pinned their hopes on this wreck, and now those hopes were scuttled as deep as the ship itself.

  Chapter 9

  A mood of melancholy settled over Minorcan as Ponce ordered the crew to lift anchor.

  "Now, will you tell me what the hell we're doing out here besides wasting time?" Alix wheeled to find Daniel standing much too close behind her.

  She heaved a sigh. The man was like a barnacle that wouldn't scrape off.

  "Daniel," she said wearily, "we're all upset about this. There's no point in talking about it now."

  "Not for you, maybe, but for the rest of us..." Daniel gazed out over the ocean thoughtfully. She could see that his mind was spinning, assessing the situation. "We feel like we've been all around the ocean a couple of times, gone past GO, but didn't collect our two hundred dollars. As far as I'm concerned it's time to call quits to whatever game Cabrera is playing."

  She didn't want Daniel to dwell on this failure. The crew could become even more demoralized. "Daniel, let Ponce be the captain of this ship. He knows what he's doing."

  "Well, he may believe, but the rest of us don't. It's time he took us all back to shore so that we can spend our time more profitably doing something else. Like getting jobs with Luke Stallingrath." With that angry outburst Daniel wheeled and strode away.

  Alix went to console Ponce and found him in his cabin.

  "Ponce—"

  "Don't come in," he said abruptly. Alix ignored his advice and stepped inside the door, closing it gently behind her. Ponce sat on the edge of his bunk, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed.

  Alix felt a sharp stab of sympathy. Ponce Cabrera was accustomed to success, and his disappointment ran deeper than anyone else's because he felt responsible for the ship and, indeed, for the whole crew. His eyes when he lifted them to hers were clouded with doubt.

  "I'm afraid I'm not good company right now."

  "It doesn't matter," said Alix, going to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it? It might help."

  Ponce shot her a quick look. "Go talk with the crew. I imagine they're having quite a discussion down in their quarters right now about why we're not down in the Keys salvaging Santa Catalina."