by Anna Hackett
He wrapped his arms around her. “Oh?”
“It’s about desire.” Sure, mind-blowing, panty-melting desire, but that was all this was. A chemical reaction.
“Just sex?” he murmured.
“Hold your horses, Casanova. The bet was for one kiss. I didn’t say anything about sex.”
He lowered his head until his lips were a whisper away from hers. “One kiss.”
Then his mouth touched hers.
She parted her lips and his tongue entered, slicking over hers. She moaned, tangling her tongue with his. He tasted like beer and sex. Pulling him closer, she deepened the kiss. She wanted more.
He was so warm and she suddenly realized how cold she was.
He made a low sound in his throat, his hands sliding down to cup her ass. He pulled her closer, and she felt the hard bulge in the front of his shorts.
Morgan slid her hands up into his shaggy hair. The kiss turned rough, addictive. She’d never had a kiss send her up in flames like this. It felt endless, and it also felt like it would never be enough.
The sound of voices not too far away made them jerk away from each other. Morgan murmured a curse. She felt rattled, her legs unsteady. She wished she could blame it on the rolling waves beneath the ship, but she knew that would be a lie.
“Christ,” Zach muttered.
“Time to call it a night.” If her words tumbled out too quickly, she hoped he didn’t notice. “We’ve got a big day of diving tomorrow.”
Zach ran a hand through his hair. “Right. Diving. Yeah, sure.”
She smiled to herself. He was just as rattled as she was. That helped soothe some of her nerves. “I’ll see you in the morning, Dr. James.”
“Count on it.” But he just stood there, staring at her. “I want you, Morgan. And I’m going to have you.”
Her pulse spiked. “I’m not a prize for you to win, and I have a say in this too.”
“You want me.”
Damn. She couldn’t deny that. “Good night.”
For a second, he looked like he was going to reach out and grab her. But then he stepped back and she felt a stab of disappointment mixed with relief.
“Sleep well, Morgan.”
Morgan stayed where she was, pressed against the foosball table, and watched him walk away.
She blew out a breath. Sleep well. Yeah, right. She was pretty sure she knew what—or rather whom—would star in her dreams tonight.
Chapter Eight
Zach splashed water on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror above the tiny sink in his cabin.
He needed to shave, but he usually left the scruff when he was out in the field. He’d slept, but not very well. He’d had dreams, so many dreams. So many good dreams.
Trying not to think about long, toned legs wrapped around his waist, or Morgan’s mouth traveling over his skin, he headed to the galley. It was empty, and he took a second to grab a slice of toast and a boiled egg.
After eating and tossing back a quick coffee, he headed out onto the deck.
The first thing he saw was Morgan.
The taste and feel of her slammed into him, memories peppering him like bullets. Today, he had a full day of diving, looking for a wreck that he’d dreamed about for a very long time, but for the first time in his life, he was just as excited about spending the day with this woman.
“You look like a starving man who just spotted a juicy steak.”
Hale’s voice made Zach wrench his gaze off Morgan. The big man was wearing dark cargo shorts and a white polo shirt that contrasted with his skin.
“Pretty sure Morgan wouldn’t like hearing herself described as a steak.”
Hale grinned. “That’s the truth. And let me tell you, the woman can land a mean right hook.” Then the man’s smile faded. “I see the way you watch her and I feel like I should warn you…Morgan has a lot of first dates and not many second ones. She rarely gives a guy much of a chance, and to be fair, none of the ones I’ve seen her with were worthy of her.”
Zach felt his muscles tighten. “You warning me off?”
“If I did that, she’d try and hit me. Morgan is one of the best women I know. In a firefight, I’d have her at my back in a second. But, she guards herself pretty hard, and it would take a determined man to get through.”
Zach glanced back at her as she moved in the morning light. “I’m determined. And pretty sneaky.” He met Hale’s dark eyes. “And I see through the toughness she uses like a shield.”
Hale considered him a second, then nodded. “I think you’ll do, Dr. James. Oh, and if you hurt her, I’ll break every bone in your body.”
Zach swallowed. Great, overprotective Navy SEAL alert. “Noted.”
“And this conversation never happened.”
Zach cocked his head. “Or she’ll break your bones too?”
Hale’s smile widened. “Yeah, you’ll do, doc.”
“Got it.” Zach made his way across the deck. “Morning.”
“Morning.” Morgan eyed him. “You’re not going to act weird, are you?”
He kept his voice low. “Because I had my tongue in your mouth?”
She raised a brow. “And your hands on my ass.”
He grinned at her. God, she was something. “And you were moaning.”
Her brows drew together. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.”
“No, I—”
“What are you two arguing about now?” Declan’s deep voice came from behind Zach.
“Nothing,” Morgan said quickly, shooting Zach a warning glare. She turned and started pulling her wet suit on. “We’re just getting ready to get in the water.”
Smiling to himself, and feeling pretty darn good, Zach pulled his own wet suit on. The gear and tanks were all laid out for his team. Morgan was very good at double-checking it all and getting it ready.
Nearby, an already-suited-up Declan was getting the airlift pump started. The airlift was a sand suction dredge they could use to suck sand away. It was vacuumed up a pipe, and the debris collected. His students would get the lucky job of examining the collected sand for any small artifacts.
Before long, everyone was tipping over the edge into the water. He watched as Morgan somersaulted back and sank beneath the waves, her fins rising up above the surface to kick as she descended.
Zach followed her in.
Soon, they were all following their dive plan. His team started their searches, swimming backward and forward in regular search patterns. Max had the camera today, and was busy capturing the locations anytime anyone thought they’d found something.
Alice waved Zach over, pointing at the sand. Zach swam down. She’d found what looked like a coin buried in the sand. Carefully, Zach brushed off the sand and pulled the coin out, resting it on his gloved palm. It was worn, and he couldn’t see any identifying marks. They’d have to take a more thorough look in the lab. He dropped it gently into his mesh bag.
He hung in the water, watching his team work. They were doing a great job—careful and methodical. His archeologists were taking the time to teach the students.
But a wave of frustration flared. There was still nothing to point them in the direction of the main body of the ship, and nothing that conclusively proved this was the ship they were after.
Minutes passed, and then Jasmin waved him over. Zach floated beside the woman and noticed Morgan swim up beside him. Jasmin pointed down.
There was something buried in the sand.
Working carefully, they dusted the sand off. He waved at Declan, who brought the suction dredge tube over. Declan set the pipe down and vacuumed the sand away from the artifact.
It was a plate. Completely intact.
It was difficult to tell much about it, but it looked like heavily tarnished metal. His pulse spiked. He gestured for Jasmin to pack it up in one of the bags.
Zach looked around. They were finding a good number of s
mall artifacts, but where the hell was the ship, itself? Sure, they weren’t going to find a hulking wreck. The Soleil d’Orient had been made of wood, so he was looking for rotted wooden planks and more cannons as evidence of the ship’s structure.
Soon, Morgan tapped her dive watch. It was time to head up.
Back on the Storm Nymph, they all shed their dive gear.
“Let’s get the artifacts into the lab,” Zach called out, shaking the water out of his hair. “I want to check out that plate.”
He wasn’t surprised to find everyone packed into the wet lab as he started cleaning the plate. Even the THS team was lined up against the far wall, watching and waiting. There was an air of excitement in the room. Zach carefully swiped his cloth over the plate.
He stared at it. Oh, God. “It’s made of gold.”
He yanked his tablet over, and tapped into one of his research folders. He pulled up the image he wanted, and turned the tablet around. “Look.”
There was an old sketch of a golden plate, similar in size to the one in front of him.
“It’s a plate from Japan,” he said.
“Japan?” Morgan said. “Like the plates gifted to the King of Siam from the Japanese Emperor?”
Zach lifted the plate, turning it over. He grinned. “I can read the stamp on the back. These plates were made for Emperor Reigen of Japan. He ruled at the same time King Narai ruled Siam. And in turn, Narai gifted the plates to Louis XIV.”
Morgan smiled. “The King of Siam was a re-gifter. Cheap.” Her smile widened. “But congratulations, Dr. James. Looks like you just found the Soleil d’Orient.”
Shouts and whoops filled the room.
***
Morgan leaned against the railing, the cool, night air brushing over her shoulders. Behind her, on the deck, the archeologists were celebrating. A few of the students had already had one too many beers. They’d feel it tomorrow when they dived.
She stared down at the dark water and thought of the poor people who’d drowned here. She could imagine the Soleil d’Orient pitching in the stormy waves, rain pelting the deck. Panicked shouts and people running in terror.
Now, she looked up in the direction of the shore, and spotted the faint twinkle of lights at Tolagnaro. They’d been so close and yet so far away.
“Hey.” Zach leaned on the rail beside her.
He was dangling a beer between his hands. “Dr. James.”
“Come on. You still won’t call me Zach?” He waggled his eyebrows. “We’ve kissed, so you should at least call me Zach.”
“Nope.”
“Stubborn. No beer tonight?”
She shook her head. “I’m on watch this evening. But you certainly have something to celebrate.”
“It’s here.” A flash of his white teeth. “History. It’s right here beneath the waves.”
“Time to tell me what else you think might be down there,” she said.
He sipped his beer. “I told you, I’ll share mine when you share something about yourself.”
She looked out at the water. She wasn’t a talker. Talking about herself and her feelings never made her feel better. There were a lot of things she’d never shared with anyone. Even her friends at THS.
But something about easygoing Zachariah James made her want to talk. “I was sixteen when my dad was killed.” The pain was a bright slash on her heart.
“Sorry about your dad. What happened?”
“A random, senseless murder. He was gunned down on the street during a robbery. They never caught the guy. I didn’t want to go into foster care. In fact, I was terrified of it. I ran away.”
“And went where?”
She sucked in a breath. “I lived on the streets until I turned eighteen and joined the Navy.”
She felt him staring at her, and it made her skin itch.
Morgan glanced his way, and the look on his face made her stiffen. “Don’t you dare look at me with pity—”
“I’m not.” He grabbed her arm. “I’m looking at you with admiration. That couldn’t have been safe. A young girl alone on the streets.”
“That’s where I learned how to defend myself.” She tried to smile, but dark memories pushed at her. Things she didn’t want to think about, when she’d been terrifyingly alone.
He reached out and traced the scar on her cheek.
She cleared her throat. “A man attacked me while I was sleeping. I survived and he regretted the decision.”
Something hot burned in Zach’s eyes. “Hence the admiration.”
“So, I shared, and now it’s your turn.”
She saw his fingers tighten on the beer bottle. “What do you want to know?”
She was curious as to whatever he was being cagey about in regard to the wreck, but now she also really wanted to know more about the man. “Tell me about this rough childhood.”
“It’s not a pretty story.” He took another long pull of his beer. “I grew up in a trailer park. My mom ran off before I could even remember her, and my dad was a bad-tempered drunk.”
Simple words hiding a wealth of pain.
“I was the nerdy, scrawny kid that everyone picked on at school.”
She eyed him up and down, taking in his muscular form. “No way.”
“Yep.” A faint smile. “But I didn’t care about what anyone said, not when I was busy dodging my father’s rages. Books were my escape. I devoured history books about Egypt, Greece, Rome, China, shipwrecks, anything I could get my hands on. They helped me stay sane.”
Morgan’s heart clenched for the young boy he’d been. “So what happened to that geeky, scrawny kid?”
“He finished high school and managed to get a scholarship to college. I escaped. I left that trailer and I never looked back.”
Much as she’d done after she lost her dad. She’d found the Navy, and he’d found history.
“I decided to work on preserving that history I’d read about in those books. I wanted to uncover it and share it with others. I wanted to make something of myself, and have as many adventures as I could pack into my life.”
He was still running from that trailer park, she realized. And what he’d suffered in it.
“Night, Dr. James.” Charity’s bubbly voice broke through the evening. “Night, Morgan.”
“We’re off to bed,” Jasmin called out.
Behind them, the tipsy students were heading to their bunks. Zach raised a hand. “I guess everyone’s calling it a night. We do have an early start tomorrow.”
“And I need to do a round of the ship.” Dec was being extra vigilant, to ensure they didn’t get any more uninvited visitors.
They stared at each other for a long moment, the air heating.
He reached out, his fingers brushing the shell of her ear. “Goodnight, Morgan.”
How could one simple touch leave her heart beating so hard? “Goodnight, Dr. James.”
He walked across the deck, and joined his team, his easy laugh drifting across the deck. He might still be running from his past, but he’d made something good of his life. He hadn’t let it scar him.
Morgan looked back at the dark waves. She wasn’t sure she could say the same. She had a good job, friends, but she knew something else was missing.
She wanted more, but she was well-aware that she didn’t like letting people close. And the few times she’d tried, they hadn’t wanted to stick around.
But, damn. A certain sexy, charming archeologist was slowly but steadily working his way under her skin.
Chapter Nine
He was dreaming of Morgan.
Zach groaned. In his dream, Morgan rolled on top of him, her strong legs squeezing his hips. She leaned down, her mouth taking his in a hard, hungry kiss. She nipped his bottom lip, and he tasted the copper flavor of blood. It was so good. He groaned again.
Then her hands moved up, over his chest, to his neck. They circled his throat…
And squeezed t
ight.
Choking, he started coughing. Suddenly, the image of Morgan was gone, and he just saw a dark shadow.
He couldn’t breathe. He jerked awake, struggling to sit up.
There was a wire at his throat, digging in hard. He choked, feeling his lungs starting to burn. He grabbed at the wire, trying to get his fingers beneath it.
It was jerked back harder, his neck stinging. Lack of air was making him dizzy.
“Tell me the exact location of the ship.” The voice at his ear was low, whispered. He couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.
Zach shook his head. “Don’t…know,” he gasped out.
“Tell me where to find the amulet.”
Oh, no. “What…amulet?”
He was jerked back again. Hard. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Screw this. Zach jammed his elbow back. It hit flesh, and his attacker groaned. Zach slammed his body sideways, tossing himself and his attacker off the narrow bunk. They thudded into the desk, then fell to the floor. The wire around Zach’s neck loosened, and he drew in a deep breath. In the next second, his attacker landed on his back, and he fell facedown.
Their combined grunts and muttered curses filled the cabin, and Zach felt the bastard trying to tighten the wire again. Zach thrust his head back, and it smacked against the guy’s nose.
With a low curse, his attacker shoved Zach forward. His forehead hit the floor, causing him to see stars. In those few seconds, the bastard tightened the wire, harder than before. With the thin strand of metal digging into his neck, he felt blood sliding down his throat. He struggled for air.
Fuck. He didn’t want to die.
Suddenly, the door to his cabin slammed open. “Zach!” Morgan’s long silhouette filled the doorway and light spilled inside.
Zach’s attacker released him and launched forward. All he saw was a dark shadow hitting her knees, sending her stumbling. Then the attacker was gone, racing down the corridor.
Nausea rose in Zach’s throat, dizziness threatening to take over. He pushed up on all fours, but that was as far as he could go. He touched his throat. It was sticky with blood. As he sucked in air, his breathing was a harsh, forced sound.
