by Nora Roberts
Was he offering her the ring because it was a woman’s fancy, or was he offering her something else? Unsure, she shook her head, pointing to the bag on his belt. If he were asking her something, she needed it to be done with words.
Ky dropped the ring into his bag, secured it, then went back to work.
He thought he understood her, in some ways. In other ways, Ky found she was as much a mystery as the sea. What did she want from him? If it was love, he’d given her that. If it was time, they were both running out of it. He wanted to demand, was accustomed to demanding, yet she blocked his ability with a look.
She said she’d changed—that she was just beginning to feel in control of her life. He thought he understood that, as well as her fierce need for independence. And yet… He’d never known anything but independence. He, too, had changed. He needed her to give him the boundaries and the borders that came with dependence. His for her, and hers for him. Was the timing wrong again? Would it ever be right?
Damn it, he wanted her, he thought as he heaved another rock out of his way. Not just for today, but for tomorrow. Not tied against him, but bound to him. Why couldn’t she understand that?
She loved him. It was something she murmured in the night when she was sleepy and caught close against him. She wasn’t a woman to use words unless they had meaning. Yet with the love he offered and the love she returned, she’d begun to hold something back from him, as though he could have only a portion of her, but not all. Edged with frustration, he cleared more ballast. He needed and would have, all.
Marriage? Was he thinking of marriage? Kate found herself flustered and uneasy. She’d never expected Ky to look for that kind of commitment, that kind of permanency. Perhaps she’d misread him. After all, it was difficult to be certain of someone’s intention, yet she knew just how clearly Ky and she had been able to communicate underwater.
There was so much to consider, so many things to weigh. He wouldn’t understand that, Kate mused. Ky was a man who made decisions in an instant and took the consequences. He wouldn’t think about all the variables, all the what-ifs, all the maybes. She had to think about them all. She simply knew no other way.
Kate watched the silt and sand blowing away, causing a cuplike indentation to form on the ocean floor. Outside influences, she mused. They could eat away at the layers and uncover the core, but sometimes what was beneath couldn’t stand up to the pressure.
Is that what would happen between her and Ky? How would their relationship hold up under the pressure of variant life-styles—the demands of her profession and the free-wheeling tone of his? Would it stay intact, or would it begin to sift away, layer by layer? How much of herself would he ask her to give? And in loving, how much of herself would she lose?
It was a possibility she couldn’t ignore, a threat she needed to build a solid defense against. Time. Perhaps time was the answer. But summer was waning.
The force of the wash made a small object spin up, out of the layer of silt and into the water. Kate grabbed at it and the sharp edge scraped her palm. Curious, she turned it over for examination. A buckle? she wondered. The shape seemed to indicate it, and she could just make out a fastening. Even as she started to hold it out for Ky an other, then another was pushed off the ocean bed.
Shoe buckles, Kate realized, astonished. Dozens of them. No, she realized as more and more began to twist up in the water’s spin and reel away. Hundreds. With a quick frenzy, she began to gather what she could. More than hundreds, she discovered as her heart thudded. There were thousands of them, literally thousands.
She held a buckle in her hand and looked at Ky in triumph. They’d found the cargo. There’d been shoe buckles on the manifest of the Liberty. Five thousand of them. Nothing but a merchantman carried something like that in bulk.
Proof. She waved the buckle, her arm sweeping out in slow motion to take in the swarm of them swirling away from the wash and dropping again. Proof, her mind shouted out. The cargo-hold was beneath them. And the treasure. They had only to reach it.
Ky took her hands and nodded, knowing what was in her mind. Beneath his fingers he could feel the race of her pulse. He wanted that for her, the excitement, the thrill that came from discovering something only half believed in. She brought the back of his hand to her cheek, her eyes laughing, buckles spinning around them. Kate wanted to laugh until she was too weak to stand. Five thousand shoe buckles would guide them to a chest of gold.
Kate saw the humor in his eyes and knew Ky’s thoughts ran along the same path as hers. He pointed to himself, then thumbs up. With a minimum of signaling, he told Kate that he would surface to tell Marsh to shut off the engines. It was time to work by hand.
Excited, she nodded. She wanted only to begin. Resting near the bottom, Kate watched Ky go up and out of sight. Oddly, she found she needed time alone. She’d shared the heady instant of discovery with Ky, and now she needed to absorb it.
The Liberty was beneath her, the ship her father had searched for. The dream he’d kept close, carefully researching, meticulously calculating, but never finding.
Joy and sorrow mixed as she gathered a handful of the buckles and placed them carefully in her bag. For him. In that moment she felt she’d given him everything she’d always needed to.
Carefully, and this time for personal reasons rather than the catalogue, she began to shoot pictures. Years from now, she thought. Years and years from now, she’d look at a snapshot of swirling silt and drifting pieces of metal, and she’d remember. Nothing could ever take that moment of quiet satisfaction from her.
She glanced up at the sudden silence. The wash had stilled. Ky had reached the surface. Silt and the pieces of crusted, decorated metal began to settle again without the agitation of the wash. The sea was a world without sound, without movement.
Kate looked down at the scoop in the ocean floor. They were nearly there. For a moment she was tempted to begin to fan and search by herself, but she’d wait for Ky. They began together, and they’d finish together. Content, she watched for his return.
When Kate saw the movement above her, she started to signal. Her hand froze in place, then her arm, her shoulder and the rest of her body, degree by degree. It came smoothly through the water, sleek and silent. Deadly.
The noise of the prop-wash had kept the sea life away. Now the abrupt quiet brought out the curious. Among the schools of harmless fish glided the long bulletlike shape of a shark.
Kate was still, hardly daring to breathe as she feared even the trail of bubbles might attract him. He moved without haste, apparently not interested in her. Perhaps he’d already hunted successfully that day. But even with a full belly, a shark would attack what annoyed his uncertain temper.
She gauged him to be ten feet in length. Part of her mind registered that he was fairly small for what she recognized as a tiger shark. They could easily double that length. But she knew the jaws, those large sickle-shaped teeth, would be strong, merciless and fatal.
If she remained still, the chances were good that he would simply go in search of more interesting waters. Isn’t that what she’d read sitting cozily under lamplight at her own desk? Isn’t that what Ky had told her once when they’d shared a quiet lunch on his boat? All that seemed so remote, so unreal now, as she looked above and saw the predator between herself and the surface.
It was movement that attracted them, she reminded herself as she forced her mind to function. The movement a swimmer made with kicking feet and sweeping arms.
Don’t panic. She forced herself to breathe slowly. No sudden moves. She forced her nervous hands to form tight, still fists.
He was no more than ten feet away. Kate could see the small black eyes and the gentle movement of his gills. Breathing shallowly, she never took her eyes from his. She had only to be perfectly still and wait for him to swim on.
But Ky. Kate’s mouth went dry as she looked toward the direction where Ky had disappeared moments before. He’d be coming back, any minute, unaware of wha
t was lurking near the bottom. Waiting. Cruising.
The shark would sense the disturbance in the water with the uncanny ability the hunter had. The kick of Ky’s feet, the swing of his arms would attract the shark long before Kate would have a chance to warn him of any danger.
He’d be unaware, helpless, and then… Her blood seemed to freeze. She’d heard of the sensation but now she experienced it. Cold seemed to envelop her. Terror made her head light. Kate bit down on her lip until pain cleared her thoughts. She wouldn’t stand by idly while Ky came blindly into a death trap.
Glancing down, she saw the spear gun. It was over five feet away and unloaded for safety. Safety, she thought hysterically. She’d never loaded one, much less shot one. And first, she’d have to get to it. There’d only be one chance. Knowing she’d have no time to settle her nerves, Kate made her move.
She kept her eyes on the shark as she inched slowly toward the gun. At the moment, he seemed to be merely cruising, not particularly interested in anything. He never even glanced her way. Perhaps he would move on before Ky came back, but she needed the weapon. Fingers shaking, she gripped the butt of the gun. Time seemed to crawl. Her movements were so slow, so measured, she hardly seemed to move at all. But her mind whirled.
Even as she gripped the spear she saw the shape that glided down from the surface. The shark turned lazily to the left. To Ky.
No! her mind screamed as she rammed the spear into position. Her only thought that of protecting what she loved. Kate swam forward without hesitation, taking a path between Ky and the shark. She had to get close.
Her mind was cold now, with fear, with purpose. For the second time, she saw those small, deadly eyes. This time, they focused on her. If she’d never seen true evil before, Kate knew she faced it now. This was cruelty, and a death that wouldn’t come easily.
The shark moved toward her with a speed that made her heart stop. His jaws opened. There was a black, black cave behind them.
Ky dove quickly, wanting to get back to Kate, wanting to search for what had brought them back together. If it was the treasure she needed to settle her mind, he’d find it. With it, they could open whatever doors they needed to open, lock whatever needed to be locked. Excitement drummed through him as he dove deeper.
When he spotted the shark, he pulled up short. He’d felt that deep primitive fear before, but never so sharply. Though it was less than useless against such a predator, he reached for his diver’s knife. He’d left Kate alone. Cold bloodedly, he set for the attack.
Like a rocket, Kate shot up between himself and the shark. Terror such as he’d never known washed over him. Was she mad? Was she simply unaware? Giving no time to thought, Ky barreled through the water toward her.
He was too far away. He knew it even as the panic hammered into him. The shark would be on her before he was close enough to sink the knife in.
When he saw what she held in her hand, and realized her purpose he somehow doubled his speed. Everything was in slow motion, and yet it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. He saw the gaping hole in the shark’s mouth as it closed in on Kate. For the first time in his life, prayers ran through him like water.
The spear shot out, sinking deep through the shark’s flesh. Instinctively, Kate let herself drop as the shark came forward full of anger and pain. He would follow her now, she knew. If the spear didn’t work, he would be on her in moments.
Ky saw blood gush from the wound. It wouldn’t be enough. The shark jerked as if to reject the spear, and slowed his pace. Just enough. Teeth bared, Ky fell on its back, hacking with the knife as quickly as the water would allow. The shark turned, furious. Using all his strength, Ky turned with it, forcing the knife into the underbelly and ripping down. It ran through his mind that he was holding death, and it was as cold as the poets said.
From a few feet away, Kate watched the battle. She was numb, body and mind. Blood spurted out to dissipate in the water. Letting the empty gun fall, she too reached for her knife and swam forward.
But it was over. One instant the fish and Ky were as one form, locked together. Then they were separate as the body of the shark sank lifelessly toward the bottom. She saw the eyes one last time.
Her arm was gripped painfully. Limp, Kate allowed herself to be dragged to the surface. Safe. It was the only clear thought her mind could form. He was safe.
Too breathless to speak, Ky pulled her toward the ladder, tanks and all. He saw her slip near the top and roll onto the deck. Even as he swung over himself, he saw two fins slice through the water and disappear below where the blood drew them.
“What the hell—” Jumping up from his seat, Marsh ran across the deck to where Kate still lay, gasping for air.
“Sharks.” Ky cut off the word as he knelt beside her. “I had to bring her up fast. Kate.” Ky reached a hand beneath her neck, lifting her up as he began to take off her tanks. “Are you dizzy? Do you have any pain—your knees, elbows?”
Though she was still gasping for air, she shook her head. “No, no, I’m all right.” She knew he worried about decompression sickness and tried to steady herself to reassure him. “Ky, we weren’t that deep after—when we came up.”
He nodded, grimly acknowledging that she was winded, not incoherent. Standing, he pulled off his mask and heaved it across the deck. Temper helped alleviate the helpless shaking. Kate merely drew her knees up and rested her forehead on them.
“Somebody want to fill me in?” Marsh asked, glancing from one to the other. “I left off when Ky came up raving about shoe buckles.”
“Cargo-hold,” Kate murmured. “We found it.”
“So Ky said.” Marsh glanced at his brother whose knuckles were whitening against the rail as he looked out to sea. “Run into some company down there?”
“There was a shark. A tiger.”
“She nearly got herself killed,” Ky explained. Fury was a direct result of fear, and just as deadly. “She swam right in front of him.” Before Marsh could make any comment, Ky turned on Kate. “Did you forget everything I taught you?” he demanded. “You manage to get a doctorate but you can’t remember that you’re supposed to minimize your movements when a shark’s cruising? You know that arm and leg swings attract them, but you swim in front of him, flailing around as though you wanted to shake hands—holding a damn spear gun that’s just as likely to annoy him as do any real damage. If I hadn’t been coming down just then, he’d have torn you to pieces.”
Kate lifted her head slowly. Whatever emotion she’d felt up to that moment was replaced by an anger so deep it overshadowed everything. Meticulously she removed her flippers, her mask and her weight belt before she rose. “If you hadn’t been coming down just then,” she said precisely, “there’d have been no reason for me to swim in front of him.” Turning, she walked to the steps and down into the cabin.
For a full minute there was utter silence on deck. Above, a gull screeched, then swerved west. Knowing there’d be no more dives that day, Marsh went to the helm. As he glanced over he saw the deep stain of blood on the water’s surface.
“It’s customary,” he began with his back to his brother, “to thank someone when they save your life.” Without waiting for a comment, he switched on the engine.
Shaken, Ky ran a hand through his hair. Some of the shark’s blood had stained his fingers. Standing still, he stared at it.
Not through carelessness, he thought with a jolt. It had been deliberate. Kate had deliberately put herself in the path of the shark. For him. She’d risked her life to save him. He ran both hands over his face before he started below deck.
He saw her sitting on a bunk with a glass in her hand. A bottle of brandy sat at her feet. When she lifted the glass to her lips her hand shook lightly. Beneath the tan the sun had given her, her face was drawn and pale. No one had ever put him first so completely, so unselfishly. It left him without any idea of what to say.
“Kate…”
“I’m not in the mood to be shouted at right now,
” she told him before she drank again. “If you need to vent your temper, you’ll have to save it.”
“I’m not going to shout.” Because he felt every bit as unsteady as she did, he sat beside her and lifted the bottle, drinking straight from it. The brandy ran hot and strong through him. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”
“I should thank you.” He drank again and felt the nerves in his stomach ease. “The point is, you had no business doing what you did. Nothing but blind luck kept you from being torn up down there.”
Turning her head, she stared at him. “I should’ve stayed safe and sound on the bottom while you dealt with the shark—with your diver’s knife.”
He met the look levelly. “Yes.”
“And you’d have done that, if it’d been me?”
“That’s different.”
“Oh.” Glass in hand, she rose. She took a moment to study him, that raw-boned, dark face, the dripping hair that needed a trim, the eyes that reflected the sea. “Would you care to explain that little piece of logic to me?”
“I don’t have to explain it, it just is.” He tipped the bottle back again. It helped to cloud his imagination which kept bringing images of what might have happened to her.
“No, it just isn’t, and that’s one of your major problems.”
“Kate, have you any idea what could have happened if you hadn’t lucked out and hit a vital spot with that spear?”
“Yes.” She drained her glass and felt some of the edge dull. The fear might come back again unexpectedly, but she felt she was strong enough to deal with it. And the anger. No matter how it slashed at her, she would put herself between him and danger again. “I understand perfectly. Now, I’m going up with Marsh.”
“Wait a minute.” He stood to block her way. “Can’t you see that I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you? I want to take care of you. I need to keep you safe.”
