by Zoe York
Seán popped the top off his beer and tossed the opener to Dex. “Run this by me again. What, exactly, is your team doing down there? Your boss wasn’t particularly forthcoming.”
“Rick’s not a people person,” Dex said with a grin. “Our team is going to explore what remains of the RMS Lusitania before she’s totally eroded by the sea.” An abridged version of events, but it would have to suffice. He could hardly tell his brother, a policeman, that he and Rick were being paid by an American collector to salvage priceless jewelry from the wreck. Due to the heritage order placed on the wreck, any salvage they brought to the surface was by rights the property of the Irish people.
Seán’s brow creased. “I thought ship wrecks could survive longer than a hundred years.”
“Normally yes, but the Lucy is in an awkward position. She’s in relatively shallow water and takes quite a battering from the currents. It’s now or never, and Ballybeg harbor isn’t far from the wreck. Plus with the centenary this year, a couple of publicity photos of the ship exactly one hundred years after its sinking will fetch a tidy sum.” And if his lucrative side job went according to plan, he’d pocket a little extra. If being the appropriate word.
But Dex was an optimist. He’d undertaken riskier missions than this one and lived to tell (and sell) the tale, although none had netted him as much money as those necklaces would.
Seán gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t envy you the dives. The water is arse cold close to the shore, never mind as far out and as deep as you’ll be going.”
“All part of the job. It’ll be colder than the Australian gig, sure, but I’ll be well equipped to deal with the temperature.” Taking a swig of beer, Dex strode to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked rolling green farmland dotted with sheep and cows, and the blue-green sea beyond. “It’s weird being back in Ballybeg after all these years. I’d forgotten how small the town is. I guess a child’s perspective on size is different. How do you stick the change of pace?”
His brother’s cheery expression faltered. “It was hard at first, I won’t lie. But since meeting Clio, I’ve had an attitude adjustment.”
Dex eyed his brother curiously. “Must be some adjustment. I can’t believe you turned down a transfer back to Dublin. The last time we emailed, you were itching to escape Ballybeg.”
“True love, kid. You should try it some time.”
Seán’s eyes twinkled with merriment, unaware of how his words sliced through Dex’s emotional armor. He’d loved Katy. Still did. And yet he’d managed to fuck it all up.
“Clio doesn’t want her daughter to change schools again,” Seán continued, “especially now that she’s settled in and made friends. Accepting a job with the new murder squad in Cork City was the ideal compromise.”
A compromise, yes, but hardly ideal. The new position didn’t have the same prestige as the job Seán had refused with the National Bureau of Criminal Investigation. His brother must have it bad for Clio. “When do you start the new job?”
“First of September. My replacement in Ballybeg will be here in August and we’ll have a couple of weeks to hand over.”
“I’m glad the Guards saw sense and gave you your rank back. Detective Inspector Mackey has a nicer ring to it than Sergeant Mackey. You’ll be heading this new murder squad, right?”
“Yeah.” His brother beamed, well deserved pride oozing out of every pore. “It’ll be a new challenge. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be promoted to Chief Inspector in a few years.”
“Good for you,” he said, and meant it. “You deserve it.”
A wicked twinkle appeared in his brother’s eye. “I should warn you that Uncle John-Joe and Aunt Nora want to meet you while you’re in Ballybeg.”
Dex’s eyebrows shot up. “Good God. I hope John-Joe puts on clothes for the occasion.”
“He might stretch to a wifebeater and underpants. I doubt he’ll be wearing much more than that.”
Dex shuddered. “I’ll remember to wear my shades.”
Seán took a sip from his bottle and gestured toward a closed door to the right of the kitchen. “Want the grand tour? It won’t take long.”
“Okay.” He followed his brother into the small bedroom. The double bed, wardrobe, and nightstand didn’t leave a lot of room to maneuver.
“It’s too small for a desk. You’ll have to use the one in the living room,” Seán said. “If your colleague needs desk space, he’ll have to use the eating bar. One of you will have to sleep on the pullout sofa.”
Dex cracked a smile. “We’ll manage. In comparison to some of the places I’ve stayed during expeditions, your apartment is a palace.”
“Your boss told me you already know the photographer you’ll be sharing the apartment with.”
“Yeah. I’ve worked with him several times.” Mickey Lawlor was a good sort and an excellent underwater photographer. Not as good as Katy, but then, who was?
The buzzer sounded through the apartment.
“That must be him now.” Seán strode toward the intercom and hit the button to open the building’s front door.
When Seán went out to greet Mickey Lawlor on the landing, Dex wandered back into the open plan living area and trailed a finger over their mother’s old record player. Funny to think his brother still had it after all these years, along with the impressive collection of vinyl records.
Voices drifted in from the open door—one male, one female. Dex frowned. Had Mickey brought someone with him? Or had Seán’s girlfriend, Clio, come to meet and greet his mysterious treasure hunter brother?
Dex turned when he heard the front door click shut and inhaled in a wheeze when his brain registered who was standing next to his brother. Katy.
— THREE —
Katy’s stomach performed an acrobatic flip. “Dex?” she croaked.
Her ex-fiancé—the man who’d stolen her heart, juggled with it, and stomped it into extinction—paled beneath his deep tan. “You’re the photographer for Rick’s expedition?”
She licked her suddenly parched lips. “I’m one of them, yes.”
He gave her an earnest once-over, his attention lingering a second too long on her breasts before he dragged his gaze back to her face. A pink flush stained his cheeks. “You look good.”
So did he. The tan complemented his deep blue eyes and the shorter hair suited him. But Katy would rather eat glass than return the compliment. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her ex. “You’re supposed to be in another hemisphere.”
Dex’s shocked expression was replaced by a slow-burn, bone-melting smile. Damn the man for still having the power to make her ache in all the right places. “Sorry to disappoint you. The Queensland job finished last week. I’m Rick’s second-in-command for the Lusitania expedition.”
Katy let out a string of curse words so colorful that Dex’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Did you know I was part of the team?” she demanded, hands on hips, chin jutted belligerently. More importantly, did he know about the Vanderbilt jewels?
He shook his head. “No. I was expecting Mickey Lawlor to show up this evening.”
“And I was expecting a man,” said the dark-haired man who’d introduced himself as Seán. He pulled a piece of paper from a desk drawer and scrutinized it. “The rental contract I drew up with Rick lists my brother and K. Ryan. Given that you’re to share this apartment for the next two weeks, I assumed K. Ryan was male.”
Katy’s jaw dropped and looked from Seán to Dex and back again. There was a definite resemblance in the dark hair and deep blue eyes. “You’re Dex’s brother? I thought you said your surname was Mackey.”
“It is.” Seán’s smile was tight. “Long story short, I changed my name from Fitzgerald to Mackey when I turned eighteen. Maybe Dex will fill you in on the details.”
“I suspect I’ll be too busy trying to stay alive,” Dex said with a wry smile. “Katy looks ready to explode.”
“Too right. I’m going to bust Rick’s bal
ls over this. Does he think this is funny? Dex and I broke up eight months ago.” Eight months, two days, and six hours ago to be precise. Not that she was counting.
Comprehension dawned on Seán’s face. “Wait a sec. You’re Dex’s photographer fiancée?”
“Ex-fiancée,” Katy and Dex said in unison.
Their eyes clashed. For a moment, Dex’s expression grew serious. Then a rumble of amusement emitted from his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said between heaves. “Rick’s an arse to do this to us, but the expression on your face when you saw me was priceless.”
Not succumbing to laughter over the ridiculousness of the situation was a struggle, but the memory of the last time she’d seen Dex had a sobering effect. Katy tugged the straps of her backpack into place over her shoulders. “This is not going to work. One of the others will have to swap with me.”
“Rick said they’re putting up at Clonmore Castle Hotel,” Dex said. “It’s a pretty fancy place. I doubt anyone will be willing to trade a room at a five-star hotel for Seán’s flat. No offence, bro.”
Seán grinned. “None taken. From what I heard on the Ballybeg grapevine, the only reason Rick and the expedition team got rooms at an affordable price is because one of the expedition backers owns shares in the hotel.”
Crap. There was no way in hell she was staying with Dex. “Even if no one will swap with me, I’ll have to find somewhere else to stay.”
Seán looked from her to Dex, and then back again. “Good luck with that. It’s tourist season. Ballybeg and the nearby towns are overrun with visitors this year because of the Lusitania’s centenary. Throw in the golfing tournament being held next week, and you have a serious accommodation shortage. That’s why Dex asked if I’d be willing to sublet my apartment to the expedition. Your boss couldn’t find rooms for everyone at short notice.”
“And even at that—” Dex’s grin widened, “—he only found one.”
Katy’s eyes narrowed, an evil suspicion forming in her mind. “What do you mean?”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” he replied in the gravelly voice that still had the power to make her knees weak, “this is a one-bedroom apartment, and the bedroom contains only one bed.”
Her pulse picked up pace. She opened her mouth to protest, but Seán cut her short.
“I think I’ll leave you two to sort out your sleeping arrangements. You can handle the alarm system? What about the locks? I’ve left instructions on the kitchen counter.”
Dex gave his brother a mock salute. “I think we can figure out your twenty-thousand security precautions, bro.”
Seán had rapid backward walking down to a fine art. “Give me a call tomorrow, Dex. Clio wants to invite you round for dinner. If Katy wants to join you, she’s welcome to tag along.”
“I most certainly do not,” she muttered when the door closed behind Seán, “even if he is the nicer brother.”
“So, Ms. Ryan,” Dex said with studied composure, “shall we toss a coin to see who gets the bed and who gets the sofa?”
“I’d prefer a game of poker. I’m a better player than you.”
His rich chuckle sent prickles of awareness skittering over her skin and a shot of lust straight to her pelvis.
“You think you’re the better player at any rate. All right, you’re on.” He grabbed a pack of playing cards from the coffee table and leaned closer, so near that she could feel his warm breath on her neck and smell his spicy aftershave. “May the best diver win.”
***
Dex woke the next morning stiff and achy from a restless night on the pullout sofa. Whether or not the best diver had won was open to debate, but Katy beat the diving suit off him at poker.
Blinking sleepily, he groped for his phone and switched off the alarm. The display read five thirty. Ugh.
Groaning, he swung his legs over the side of the sofa bed. He grabbed clean underwear and his shower kit from his backpack and padded toward the small bathroom. When he passed the bedroom door, he paused and knocked softly. “Katy? Rise and shine.”
“I’m already up and ready to roll.”
Dex’s heart leaped in his chest. “Jaysus. You scared the crap out of me.”
Katy stood in the hallway carrying two takeout coffees and a paper bag. “I braved your brother’s insane security system to venture out. I bought muffins from a café he recommended.”
“Yeah, Seán’s into locks. He used to work for the National Bureau of Criminal Investigation. I think it made him paranoid.” Dex inhaled the sweet scent of freshly baked muffins. “Those smell delicious. Thank you.”
She shrugged and dropped her gaze to her military-style boots. “I got the bed. I figured I could be benevolent. I might have been a little grumpy with you yesterday.”
“No worries.” Guessing it was his, he reached for the taller of the two cups and took a sip. “Mmm. This hits the spot.”
A hint of a smile teased the corners of her mouth. “I asked for extra caramel.”
Katy used to tease him about his weakness for flavored coffees. While she hunted the perfect shot of espresso in every place they visited, he searched for a kick-arse caramel latte. “I’m sorry for the accommodation snafu,” he said. “I swear I had no idea you’d be on this dive, let alone sharing the apartment with me.”
The amber eyes that had intrigued him from the day they’d first met sparkled with amusement. “I believe you. You’re not a good enough actor to fake your slack-jawed incredulity when I walked in yesterday.”
That made him chuckle. “You looked pretty gobsmacked yourself.”
“I was but I’ve had a night to sleep on it—”
In a comfortable bed. Lucky Katy. Lucky bed.
“—and I want us to have an amicable professional relationship while we’re on this expedition.”
The sentiment was perfectly reasonable but this was Katy talking. She hated his guts—or so she’d told him eight months ago. The Katy he knew didn’t do amicable. Hell, she barely did professional. Dex’s eyes narrowed. Holy crap. Did she know about the Vanderbilt jewels?
Her expression gave nothing away. Several years in the Navy had trained her to hide her emotions when she wished to, hence her excellent poker face.
Dex ran a hand through his closely cropped hair. Of course she fucking knew about the treasure. This sort of gig was the kind the old Katy would have been all over. He suspected a PhD and a respectable academic post hadn’t dampened her zest for adventure.
“I’ll put your muffin on a plate while you shower.” Her gaze dropped to the clean underwear and shower kit in his left hand. “That’s where you were headed, right?”
The shower kit burned a hole in his palm. Concealed in an inside pocket was the silver and jade band he’d given her as an engagement ring—the one she’d hurled in his face the night they broke up. He kept meaning to sell the ring, but somehow never got round to it.
“Uh, yeah. Shower. I’ll leave my coffee on the kitchen counter and get on it.”
In the bathroom, Dex turned the shower pressure up to the max. Rubbing his bristly early morning stubble, he stepped under the shower, relishing the sensation of needle-sharp water massaging his back. After a quick wash, he shaved, dressed, and made a futile effort to tame his hair. It stubbornly refused to lie flat. His natural curls struggled to break free from the confines of his new, shorter cut. Had he known he was going to see Katy, he’d have booked a trim. Hell, if he’d known he was going to see her, he’d have rehearsed what he was going to say to her instead of babbling like an idiot and laughing at inappropriate moments.
Fuck. He’d screwed up badly with Katy. Regrets and what ifs weren’t in his usual line but he regretted every second of their final fight. Despite what she believed, he hadn’t proposed to her just because she was pregnant. Okay, maybe the pregnancy had influenced the timing of the proposal, but he’d been planning to ask her at some point.
He’d be lying if he said he was ecstatic when she announced her pregnancy. The timing w
as lousy. He’d accepted a six-month position on an expedition in Indonesia, and she’d decided to knuckle down and finish her doctoral thesis in Dublin. Once the initial shock had worn off, he’d gotten used to the idea and started to look forward to being a dad. Only then it had been too late.
Flexing his shoulders and ignoring the sick dread in his stomach, he emerged from the bathroom. Katy was at the breakfast counter, licking muffin crumbs from her fingers. Holy mother. The sight was a shot of adrenaline to his groin. When she caught him staring, a pink flush stained her cheeks.
“You’d better eat fast. Rick texted to say he wants us at the harbor fifteen minutes earlier than arranged.” She slid off her stool. “I’m gonna get my stuff.”
Dex grabbed his coffee cup and drained his still warm latte. “I’ll eat my muffin on the way.”
Five minutes later, Dex slid behind the wheel of his ancient VW van.
Katy climbed into the passenger seat and shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re still driving around in this heap of rust. How did it pass the National Car Test?”
“With a little help from a mechanic friend.” He eased the vehicle into the sparse traffic and took the road toward the town center, all the time hyper aware of his passenger.
Her hair was still damp after her shower and she’d pulled it into a messy bun that exposed her elegant neck. Her utility pants were accompanied by a long-sleeved T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a famous Irish rock band. Devoid of makeup and artifice, she was fucking gorgeous. He was getting hard again thinking of tugging her damp hair free from its clasp and watching it cascade over her creamy-white shoulders—just like he’d done the night before she’d left his bed forever.
“How far do we have to drive?”
Dex hit the pause button on his erotic memories. “It’s less than ten minutes to the harbor. If it weren’t for all our equipment, we could easily walk from here.”
They whizzed past green fields bordered by old-fashioned stone walls, past a line of cherry blossom trees in full bloom, before finally entering the town proper.
