“It’s a cannon,” Brian said from beside her. She hadn’t even realized he’d walked close.
“Eric needs to clean it up, preserve it, but it should have identifying markings. We’re hoping it belonged to the Chimera.”
Her father had contracted with Eric Tapscott only days before his heart attack. He was a preservation specialist and, looking over his credentials, had seemed like a great addition to the team, so Loralei had kept him on. She was about to find out if he was worth the money she was paying him considering she really couldn’t afford it.
Drawn by the object and excitement that ran through her crew, Loralei took several steps closer. Her gaze trained on the huge piece of ancient weaponry.
“It’s the right shape and size for the time period,” she said, almost to herself. Walking around it, she crouched down, but couldn’t see much of anything through the layers of filth the ocean had deposited.
As a history professor she spent most of her out-of-class time between stacks of dusty books or with her fingers flying over a keyboard. It wasn’t often she got this close to artifacts from the past, although whenever she did, the thrill was electrifying.
At one point she’d considered taking her degree and going to work for one of the major history museums. But the call of research and the joy of teaching had been too great to resist.
Still, that didn’t stop the surge of excitement that snaked through her body. Even if it wasn’t from the Chimera, it was a piece of history that her team had just reclaimed from the deep.
A jagged crack ran down the barrel of the cannon. “You figure it was broken before or cracked when it hit bottom?” Brian asked.
Loralei shrugged. There was no way to know for certain but... “Why carry this heavy sucker if it was useless?” From her crouched position she looked up at her team all gathered around. “Did you find any other signs of wreckage down there?”
Slowly, several of the guys shook their heads.
Of course not. It couldn’t be that easy. If they’d found the Chimera their first day out Loralei would have dropped to the deck in a faint.
The ship had been lost for a hundred and fifty years. Others had searched for her—soon after her loss and later. Treasure hunters who’d all obviously been looking in the wrong places.
This gave her hope and soothed the desperation she was trying valiantly to ignore. She felt it in her bones—this was a huge find, something necessary if she wanted to keep Lancaster Diving afloat.
“All right, guys. Let’s get this preserved and cleaned up. We need to know for sure if it belonged to the Chimera.”
The reality was any number of ships could have dropped that cannon into the waters of this inlet.
* * *
HOURS LATER, JACKSON was still grinding his teeth at the thought of Loralei’s team finding that damn cannon. It chafed. A lot.
He’d spent years studying and searching, only to have the first potential find from the Chimera go to someone else.
From yards away he’d watched Loralei’s team uncover the cannon half submerged in the sandy ocean floor. Frustration and anger had seared through him. He’d surfaced just in time to hear shouts of victory filling the air—that hadn’t helped his mood. And it hadn’t improved much since then.
He’d been stalking around the ship in such a snit that Marcus had pointed him in the direction of their launch boats and not so politely told him to take a break before the rest of the team decided to mutiny.
Of course, he’d ignored the suggestion. Part of owning Trident meant he no longer had to take orders from anyone. But an hour or so later he was bugging the shit out of himself with his foul mood.
It was late and dark, the ship quiet as most of the crew was either in bed, speaking on the phone to their families or crowded around one of the tables playing poker. Jackson stalked onto the empty deck and headed to the back of the ship. He tried not to glance over at Emily’s Fortune. He didn’t care what Loralei was doing.
Forcing his gaze away, he found himself standing in front of one of the launches. He just needed...some distance.
Lowering the smaller boat to the water, Jackson climbed in and headed for the island rising up in the distance.
It didn’t take him long to reach the sandy shore. According to his research, this small stretch of land had been mostly uninhabited, used by fishermen and pirates over the years, but too small to sustain any real development.
But for now, it was perfect. He craved the solitude.
Taking the battery-powered lantern—standard issue for every launch boat—he headed out to explore, staying within the tree line close to shore.
The soft lap of the water against the sand moved with a cadence that tugged against him deep inside. The quiet, deserted night folded in around him, and, slowly, the restlessness that had been eating at him dissipated.
The blazing heat of the day had settled down to a pleasant mugginess that clung to his skin. The untamed riot of vegetation pressed in around him, making him feel more isolated from everything and everyone.
Stopping, Jackson stared up into the feathery canopy of leaves overhead. Moonlight was already streaming through and he could just make out a smattering of stars.
That’s what he loved about being on the open water—no big cities and blazing lights to blot out the heavens. It always made him feel so small and at the same time profoundly immense.
He’d experienced the same thing in some of the more remote locations he’d traveled to with the Teams. Those moments had been unexpected gifts, finding a sense of peace in the middle of a shit-storm was often difficult.
Staring up at the stars always reminded him of his dad. It was something they’d shared, especially in the difficult year after his mother had left.
Anytime his father had sensed him struggling, he would pull out the secondhand telescope he’d scrounged up from somewhere and take Jackson outside to stare up at the heavens. He could still remember the soft murmur of his father’s voice as he talked about the constellations and stories that went with them.
His dad had tried to hide his own devastation, tried to focus on Jackson and be what his son needed. But even at five, Jackson had recognized his father’s pain. Resented his mother more because of it.
He’d never understood how a woman could walk away from a man who loved her that much, or how a mother could walk away from her only child.
In the end, his father and stepmother had found each other, which was better for everyone. But at the time...the experience had scarred and shaped him.
Not something he wanted to think about tonight. He had enough issues to deal with in the here-and-now.
With some perspective, it was easier to let the disappointment of the day melt away. So Loralei’s crew had made the first find. That didn’t mean they’d make the last. That was going to Trident’s team. He’d worked too damn hard for anything else.
It would be easy to hope that the cannon wasn’t from the Chimera. But it actually would mean more for him if it was.
It would mean they were on the right trail.
Dropping to the sandy ground, Jackson pressed his back against the trunk of a tree. He extinguished the lantern he’d brought, to better see the night unfolding around him.
He’d just stay here for a bit before heading back.
* * *
BETWEEN THE ROCKING ship and the ball of excitement churning in her stomach, Loralei couldn’t settle. Each tiny shift of the Emily had her heart thumping erratically.
She desperately wanted off. It was an itchy panic that settled right between her shoulder blades. She’d tried to talk herself out of the sensation, but it wasn’t doing any good. In fact, the more she thought about where she was and what she was doing, the worse it became.
During the day, she’d been busy, her mind occupied. That was what she’d needed. If she wasn’t going to get any sleep, she should probably just go back to her laptop and log a few more hours of research.
She wa
s in the hallway headed back to the office when Brian popped out of the room in front of her.
“Great. I was just coming to look for you.”
He snagged her elbow and propelled her in the opposite direction.
With a sigh, Loralei looked longingly back at the room that had been so close. “Why?”
“There are just a couple things we should go over before tomorrow’s dive.”
And they had to discuss them on deck? Loralei wanted to ask, but she knew if she voiced the words aloud Brian would wonder why it mattered.
So she swallowed them, and the familiar unease, to follow him up. He didn’t stop until they were leaning against the railing, black water stretched out beside them.
Breathe. I’m fine. Safe on deck. Loralei forcibly dragged her gaze away, searched for something—anything—else to focus on.
The island.
In the distance she could make out the oasis of relief. Solid ground, trees spiking up several feet from the line of beach.
God, what she wouldn’t give to be there right now instead of on the damn ship.
She could practically feel her feet sinking into the soft sand.
“So, tomorrow I’d like to dive farther out from the island,” Brian said. His protests from the morning were now completely gone. It was amazing how finding the cannon had changed his attitude about her decision to come to the inlet.
Loralei tried not to be bitter about that, but it was difficult.
She looked at Brian and then at the island again. Maybe he’d be willing to take her over there. Although, then she’d have to explain why she was desperate to go explore an empty Caribbean island in the dark. And the thought of being there alone with him didn’t sit well with her.
They had a small boat the crew used. As part of the standard safety briefing, Brian had given her a quick lesson when she’d come aboard.
Her salvation was so close. For the first time, Loralei understood how a man dying of thirst in the desert could convince himself sand was water. She wanted the relief. It was right there, yet...
With her gaze focused on the island, Loralei jerked when a shadow glided into her line of sight. No, not a shadow. A boat. With a single man.
She watched as the boat bumped up onto the sand. The man alighted, moving with a fluid, compact grace that she instinctively recognized.
Jackson Duchane was on that island.
In the middle of the night. Alone.
Why?
“Loralei, are you listening to me?” Brian asked.
She nodded, unwilling to pull her gaze away from Jackson. What was the man up to?
No good, that was the obvious answer.
He tied off the boat, grabbed something from beneath one of the seats and slipped silently into the tree line.
His movements were suspicious, which only increased her desire to unlock his motives and secrets. Did he suspect the island might hold more clues to the Chimera’s location?
That was the only logical reason she could think of for him to be out there in the dark. No matter what, she couldn’t let him get to the lost ship ahead of her.
Someone below deck called for Brian. He gave her a hard look and then disappeared.
Loralei walked down the side of the ship, completely oblivious that the fear she’d been fighting not five minutes ago had dissipated.
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d climbed into the boat they kept tethered to the ship. She maneuvered the controls, just as Brian had taught her, and headed straight for where she’d seen Jackson disappear.
7
IT DIDN’T TAKE her long to cross the water, five minutes at most. About halfway across the panic hit again, full force. But at that point she was just as close to the island as she was to the Emily. She pulled alongside Jackson’s boat, grabbed a rope and tied her own off as he’d done.
The euphoria that rushed through her the minute her feet touched the ground was unbelievable, but short-lived.
She didn’t have time to luxuriate. She needed to find Jackson and figure out just what had drawn him here in the dark of night.
Grabbing a flashlight stashed in the boat, Loralei flicked it on and picked her way into the thick underbrush. There was little sound. The island was so small. She’d read that the only animals it could sustain were birds and smaller rodents.
Occasionally she heard a caw or chatter, but for the most part the island was silent. Part of her had been hoping for some sound that would lead her straight to him.
The stars were so bright out here in the middle of nowhere. Looking up, Loralei marveled at them. She’d seen stars before. She and Melody had even sat out on the roof of their first apartment building one summer night and stared up at them, laughing, talking and drinking cheap tequila until they’d both been cross-eyed drunk.
That night she’d thought the stars were so close. But compared to now it had been as if they’d been put on a dimmer switch and permanently turned to the lowest setting.
Forcing her gaze back in front of her, she trained her light on the ground and slowly moved forward. The beam was bright, but not bright enough to illuminate everything around her. And the farther she moved from the beach, the more the night seemed to press in.
Maybe this is a bad idea.
Loralei wondered where that voice of reason had been five minutes ago when she’d obviously needed it.
She was mentally arguing with herself when she stumbled over something. Her body pitched forward, her arms windmilled, desperate to regain her balance even as her brain told her it was a lost cause.
She sprawled inelegantly on the ground, cushioned by the layer of peaty-smelling leaves and debris. Her flashlight skittered and rolled before winking out completely. Without looking, she kicked out at what she assumed was the tree root that had tripped her. “Damn tree.”
What she didn’t expect was for the root to respond with a resounding, “Ooomph.”
Letting out a startled squeak, Loralei scrambled back away from the sound. Her eyes were desperately trying to adjust, but unable to do it fast enough for her panicked brain.
Hands clamped around her upper arms, halting her.
“Loralei, stop.”
She recognized that low, gruff voice. Her body immediately relaxed, even without the order from her brain.
“Jackson,” she said. His name rolled off her tongue way too easily.
She heard a click and then light flared between them. It gilded his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and making his blue eyes flare.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
She shifted, unwilling to admit that she’d followed him...and then literally stumbled across him.
“I could ask the same of you,” she countered to hide the guilt she had absolutely no reason to feel.
His eyebrows crinkled together as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Shaking his head, he let her go, and turned to search through the brush until he came up with her flashlight grasped tight in his fist.
Loralei snatched the light he held out to her and spun on her heel. She was several steps away when his silky voice reached out through the darkness and melted down her spine.
“Running away?”
Her feet faltered, kicking up sand as she stumbled to a stop.
“I’m not,” she said, her words far from the forceful denial she’d intended.
“Aren’t you? If I hadn’t seen the real panic on your face, I’d almost think you’d masterminded the entire drowning episode last night just so you could get access to my research.”
Anger buzzed through Loralei’s head so loud it drowned out the incessant rush of the ocean pulling against the sand. Before she registered what she intended, Loralei was stalking toward him. “I am not a thief.” She spat out the words like projectiles. “I didn’t take anything from you.”
Instead of standing his ground, Jackson moved backward, allowing her momentum to push them both until his back settled against th
e solid trunk of the tree he’d been using as a prop.
Uncaring—or unaware—of the situation she’d just launched herself in to, Loralei buried a single, accusing finger in the center of his chest and glared up at him.
Wrapping a hand around her wrist, Jackson tugged, reversing their positions until she was the one with her back against the rough bark.
His palms flattened on the trunk behind her, but he didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. His entire body caged her in as effectively as any bars could have. Oh, she had the ability to duck under and escape, but her body just wouldn’t obey the command. So she was stuck, staring into those damn gorgeous eyes that glittered down at her with a mixture of exasperation, anger and bone-deep lust.
God, she understood.
Her own emotions where this man was concerned were a tangle of contradiction and frustration.
She didn’t want to want him, but apparently that didn’t matter.
“What do you want from me, Loralei?”
“Nothing,” she bit out, wanting desperately to mean it.
His thumb shifted, brushed lightly down the curve of her throat. A thrill raced through her, chased by goose bumps across her skin. A satisfied smirk tugged at the edges of his lips. Damn the man. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and enjoyed the power her response gave him.
“The least you can do is admit it. We both know the truth.”
God, she hated this. He wasn’t wrong and it bothered her to want or need anything from anyone. Her entire life she’d been alone. Preferred it that way.
She’d been fairly young when she’d realized she couldn’t depend on her parents for anything. Her father’s work had always come first, no matter what. And even when her mother had been alive, her heart and soul had been out on the water not with her daughter.
Loralei’s life was solitary, and that was the way she liked it. She’d never had a problem walking away from anyone or anything.
Although she knew she should, she couldn’t seem to do that with Jackson. Despite her better judgment, he kept pulling her back in.
“Why are you on this island, Loralei, and not snuggled up in your warm bed on the ship?”
Under the Surface Page 7
