Baited (2 page)

Suddenly, the water was a trap, a box. Kat dug
through it, trying to reach the surface, craving the open sky wavering beyond the flowing barrier.

Reach…up…air…

She burst upward with a screeching gasp, falling and hunching over her basket, wheezing. As she whipped off her mask, quivers wracked her limbs, and she tasted something sour in the back of her throat.

“—gift shop where you can see the luster and spell-binding splendor of the pearl,” said the deliriously perky emcee. “Thank you for the honor of your company.”

Applause leaked from an audience who couldn’t have seen the details of what had happened beneath the water, even though they could sure as hell see one majorly dazed
ama
now.

Weakly, Kat turned her head toward Yoko, who’d also surfaced, taken off her mask, and a second later, begun to swim madly for the boat.

Like
that
was going to get her away from Kat.

Anger took over, helping Kat to reach the deepest strengths in herself. When she caught up to Yoko, she made damned sure they were sheltered from the audience’s view.

Yoko only had time to hold up a palm in mercy. “I didn’t mean to—”

Kat surged through the water and clamped her hands against the boat, caging Yoko, her face only an inch away.

“You want to bully me?” Kat clenched her teeth.

The other woman closed her eyes.

“Then expect me to fight back.”

“You don’t take any guff, do you?” Duke said. His voice, which, imaginably, once had possessed the strength of a hero in a jungle safari film, was now thready—hardly the bark of a man who’d conquered the world.

It was later that day, and they were sitting in their half wet suits on the beach, their sticks—surfboards—abandoned right now even though the conditions offshore were perfect. The five-foot waves curled into barrels that Kat was yearning to pipe.

Duke’s smooth, bald head absorbed the early-September sunset. He’d been waiting for Kat on shore for his twice-a-week “lesson.” Even though he wouldn’t get around to catching anything today—he never did—Kat knew that Duke enjoyed watching her carve the waves more than anything else. They never talked about the fact that he was too unhealthy to be in the water. It was hard to admit, especially since the sixty-five-year-old’s hazel eyes still glittered with desperate vitality, the line of his jaw hinting at the wild adventurer he used to be.

But even shaken by his cancer, Duke still wanted to believe that he could climb mountains, surf and basically accomplish everything he wanted to before he died. And Kat never disagreed with him.

“Screw what happened with Yoko,” Kat said. “You’re not looking so hot today. Isn’t the new medication—?”

“It’s working fine, don’t worry. Been a harder day than most though.” His thin voice was wry, amused.
“And let’s not ‘screw’ what happened with Yoko, Kat. Suddenly your livelihood is in question. Locker-room brawls with coworkers don’t go over well with most bosses.”

Kat shrugged. “It wasn’t a
brawl
, just an energetic talking-to. And, don’t worry, I’m only under review with pay for a few weeks. At least I’m not fired like Yoko.”

After Kat had offered her coworker a scathing crash course in manners, Yoko had once again emphasized that she hadn’t meant to hurt Kat, that she’d only wanted to make everyone see that
she
deserved to be in Kat’s lead position. Losing face in Yoko’s culture was a huge deal, which made Kat wonder why it didn’t matter so much to her, too.

Probably because her Japanese mom had died when she was only three. Probably because Kat hadn’t been raised to really
have
a culture since all ritual and ethnic identity had been erased when her mother had passed on. Her dad hadn’t been much on teaching her about any of that, either.

“I can give you a loan to keep you feeling secure in case you do get fired after this suspension,” Duke said, grinning. “Come on, you know I’m good for it.”

Temptation chewed at her. But…no. Her pride would eat her alive if she gave in.

“No more offers, okay?” Kat said.

“All right, it’s rescinded.” Duke sighed and slumped over, arms on knees. “If I didn’t have a rule about getting persuasive with women, I’d…”

“Is that what they call it nowadays? ‘Getting persuasive’?”

They relaxed and laughed at her deft switch of topic. During all their beachside conversations, Duke had revealed that he wasn’t into dating, not since his wife had passed away years ago. Not since he’d sworn off that notorious party rep: the hard drinking and smoking, the womanizing, the decadence that had earned him the headline nickname of Ride-’em-Hard Playboy.

Actually, he’d told her he’d rather spend his time setting his world to rights instead of setting some poor woman up for heartbreak when his time ran out. Besides, he seemed perfectly happy hanging out with Kat. Somehow, she’d become the symbol of youth for Edward “Duke” Harrington III, a way for him to make up for everything he hadn’t made time to do, a reminder of healthy days wasted away. There were times when she also suspected that he felt normal with her, that he could forget all the billions of dollars he had in the bank and all the grief that went with it.

But…a loan from Duke? No way. She didn’t like the idea of owing anyone anything. She’d already gotten into enough trouble with credit-card companies but at least they were faceless. It’d be too uncomfortable knowing Duke had something to hold over her, friends or not.

“I’ll work the economics out,” Kat said, drawing in the sand with a forefinger. “I’ve been thinking of getting a second job anyway.”

“I’m sure I have an opening at one of my companies.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “And maybe one day I’ll get up enough cojones to take you up on a
training offer.” Just as soon as she could convince herself that she could succeed in a world like his.

As if.

The mellow growl of waves rolling in and then fizzing to foam paused their conversation.

She was going to get herself on her own feet financially, even if she was just about broke right now. Hell, she’d been the one who’d naively accepted every credit card that’d been sent to her after she’d graduated from high school and gotten her first job at Mickey D’s. It’d been free money, right? Uh-huh. Now she had to take responsibility for her own stupidity. Anyway, she was used to being broke, having grown up in one of San Diego’s “upper hoods.” On the south side of the 8 freeway, she’d learned to live without frills under the care of a father who gambled too much, always leaving them scrambling.

“That chip on your shoulder is showing,” Duke said.

And it’s probably going to stay right where it is, she thought. It’s who I am, even if I try hard not to spit much slang or be that girl from the block.

“That chip gives me character,” she said, laughing.

“Yes, it does. You’ve got spark, Kat.” It was a mantra he used whenever she revealed her lack of self-confidence. His pale face was highlighted by the sunset, the waning light showing the lines of exhaustion, the tired fight of someone on his last leg home. “You’re the best, whether you know it or not.”

She nodded, throat suddenly tight. Figures that one of the only people who never made her feel out of place, one who actually made her think she could be more than
she was, would be leaving her so soon after she found him.

A couple of regulars walked by, boards under their arms, wet suits halfway undone to their waists to reveal muscled, tanned chests. One, a brunet with pale eyes and a killer bod, jerked his chin at Kat with masculine nonchalance. Thrown off guard, she glanced at the picture she’d scribbled in the sand.

It didn’t resemble anything, the picture. Broken lines and squiggles. Kind of like the state of her life.

Silence roared at her, and she peeked up at Duke, who was staring at her with an unreadable softness in his gaze. He looked away then nodded toward the departing surfer.

“He wanted to say something to you.”

“Like what? Let’s get married?” Kat was all of a sudden uncomfortable. “Like that’s my style.”

“It could be if you’d stop hanging around with old men and get out there. Ever since Will…”

“Man, I am
never
telling you about my dating life again.” Maybe it’d been the way he’d said it or…Kat wasn’t sure. She just knew that the subject was unsettling, especially since he was right.

During the four months since he’d first seen her surfing and wandered right on up out of the clear blue sky and asked her to teach him, she’d made the mistake of telling him about her ex-boyfriend and all her non-romantic romances before. It was one of his “crusades,” to learn to ride waves, he’d said, not that he ever felt well enough to actually go out and catch one.

She’d accepted his explanation nevertheless, feeling
a little greedy because he insisted on paying her for the lessons. Intuitively, she knew that denying him this obvious pleasure would take away the pleased gleam in his gaze, and she couldn’t do that. Instead, she listened to his exciting stories, marveling at the experiences of his healthier days, like exploring rain forests and living in unindustrialized countries to get “the next big idea” for his Trump-esque empire, which included everything from real estate to redeveloping businesses in corporate makeovers or something like that.

Kat had always wanted to learn more about his successes, and also to take his cue and experience life beyond her own neighborhood. So she’d accepted a lot of his more downscale invitations to tour his companies, to talk with marine biologists at UCSD, to
learn
.

And she was grateful. This kindhearted man had brought new meaning to her life. But she was also aware of her faint fear of disappointing him, of staying in the same rut just because it was easier.

“Even though you’re refusing everything,” Duke said, bringing her back to the moment, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about a different proposition. Something for your education, Kat.”

Her education? “What?”

“Sharks. The ocean. Another opportunity for knowledge.”

She just stared at the optimistic, crazy sparkle in his watery eyes. His impetuous ideas, his never-ending mental youth, tugged at her. God, how she wanted to
grow up to be like Duke—caring, giving, kept alive by joy and the refusal to accept defeat.

“I’m chartering a boat out to Isla de Guadalupe, off the coast of Baja California,” he said. “Cage-diving. A five-day trip. Hell, you’re basically on vacation while Neptune Point reviews what happened with Yoko anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

Duke’s shaky sigh cut her off. Its world-weary tone spoke volumes. “It’d be a great experience.”

Closing her eyes, Kat tried to shut out the thought of how, these past few months, Duke had eased his way into the place of a father who’d died unexpectedly when she was eighteen. She would’ve given anything to have had time with him before he was gone, to have spent every waking second making that dying man happy.

Not for the first time, Kat wondered why Duke was being so kind to her. It was something that made her a little uncomfortable to mull over. They were friends, right? An older man and a younger woman could manage that. He’d never made any advances toward her and, truthfully, she dreaded having to face that kind of situation. All she knew was that most of Duke’s family had been distant until his recent illness, and she loved the thought of having a surrogate family like Duke for herself. Theirs was a symbiotic relationship—good for them both.

“I’m taking Chris, also,” Duke said. “He’s on a shark kick right now.”

His grandson and ward. An orphaned thirteen-year-
old who looked at Kat like she was the end-all-be-all every time Duke brought him for a surfing lesson. He was one of Kat’s worst soft spots besides Duke.

“No fair.” Kat took some sand and playfully tossed it at her friend’s leg. “You know I can’t resist that kid.”

“Then pack up. We can get an expert from the Shark Study Institute on board, the finest gourmet food, spectacular staterooms—”

Tempting.
God
, it’d be so tempting if she could just tell herself that he was inviting her as a friend and nothing else. But then she thought of a trip to the middle of the ocean, surrounded by blue. Peace, danger. She thought of how her dad would’ve loved such an adventure with her, if he’d had the money or time for it.

In her mind’s eye, she saw him scooting out the front door, on the way to Viejas Casino. “I can’t go to the pool with you today, Kat,” he’d say. “See ya later though?”

Then she saw him the way she preferred: guiding her over the surface of the public pool as she floated on her back, the sun splashing over her face. “You’re a born water baby, Kat,” he’d say. “Like dad, like daughter.”

As the memory drifted off she tried to cling to it, but it just disintegrated, like all the possibilities between them.

Duke’s voice took the place of her father’s. “You want to go. I can tell.”

He was right. And since when was she going to let a little thing like discomfort get to her? “I guess I can deal with real life when I get back.”

“Good. Good. I like your attitude. But, for now, just have some fun, okay? You deserve it after your day.”

Shaking her head, she resigned herself to giving in.

Like it was a hard choice, she thought, going on a cruise to make Duke’s day. What a sacrifice.

Little did she know just how much of one it would turn out to be.

A
t 8:00 a.m. on the day of the trip, Kat was the first in her party to board the
M. Falcon,
a 112-foot luxury sport-fishing-and-diving vessel complete with eight crew members, docked at Fisherman’s Landing.

A deckhand with brown dreadlocks named Larry carried her belongings while Hugh the steward led her to a stateroom decorated in mahogany, teak, brass and tasteful artwork depicting marine sunsets. There was a double lower berth for her to sleep on, her own head and shower, plus a color TV with a DVD player. He told her that they had a library complete with movies and books, too.

Not bad, she thought, unpacking her bag as Larry closed the door. She’d already stored the diving gear
Duke had rented on the upper deck after meeting Shaw, the first officer; Tink, another deckhand; Wayne, the medic; Linda, the chef and Jason, the engineer. She was anxious, feeling like a kid playing hooky from school and wondering, once again, how the
ama
show was going without her.

Instead of pearl-diving these past two weeks, Kat had been amusing herself by going to counseling with Neptune Point’s human resources for “confronting” Yoko. But she hardly felt punished. She’d also been spending a lot of time with Duke, polishing up her diving skills on his dime.

Kat plopped to her berth, spreading out her arms as her back hit the mattress. She inhaled the air, the hint of must and polished wood, then tuned in to the creak of the boat as it bobbed. Duke was paying for everything, and as grateful as she was, it got to her. Still, she could tell he was happy.

Again, she tried not to think about why. Duke was a buddy, right?

A swift knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

A muffled voice answered. “It’s your captain, here to officially welcome you aboard.”

“Oh.” Kat zipped upward, scooted toward the edge of her berth, eager to meet the only crew member who hadn’t greeted her yet. “Come in.”

As the door swung open, she prepared herself for the sight of a sea dog: an aged skipper with a sailor’s hat at a jaunty angle and a squint to rival Popeye’s.

But what she got instead robbed her of a heartbeat.

A tall, deeply tanned man in his early thirties. Under his white T-shirt and khakis, he had the roped muscles of an athlete. His light-brown hair was cut close, highlighting a green-blue gaze that could cut darkness like sunlight through seawater. With a notable lack of shock at her presence, he grinned at her, but his hand gripped the doorknob, the veins in his arm pulsing to the surface.

For an endless, awful moment, they didn’t say anything, too busy staring.

Finally, Kat drew in a breath, exhaled on a surprised, pained laugh. “Will.”

“Kat.”

A beat passed as they locked eyes again then glanced away. A whole volume of anguish, joy and disappointment was in that one look, and she couldn’t handle it—not after she’d spent so much time trying to forget this man. Not after the hurt from everything that had gone wrong between them.

In the presence of Will Ashton, she felt like she was underwater, ultra-alive and afraid, heart crashing against her ribs, skin prickling with awareness and the detection of danger.

Had Duke known Will would be here?

Kat bit the inside of her lip.
Of course
he’d known. Duke was anything but careless or stupid. Unlike her.

One of them had to say something, so she stepped up. “Well. A captain, huh? Wow. From a scrub on that Catalina diving outfit to pure luxury.”

Tone down the sarcasm, she thought, standing
because she felt much too inferior looking up so far to this man. She’d spent too much time doing that in the past, and she’d grown out of it by now.

“I’ve moved up in life,” he said, obviously more comfortable than she was with this awkward greeting.

A different grin slanted over his lips now. That damned, I-want-you-now-Kat grin that used to spin her head like a whirlpool.

Just like it did right now.

Kat nodded, trying to calm the bang of blood through her chest. Will, she thought, I wish you weren’t here, but it’s weirdly nice to see you.

Jerk.

“What’ve you been up to?” he asked.

She busied herself by tracing a finger over the mini-TV. Stop, she told herself. Just stop it.

She nixed the fidgeting. “Same thing I was doing last year. Work, play, conquering the world. You know. The usual.” Eternal pause. “You?”

He spread his hands out to indicate the boat. Kat couldn’t help following his every move, remembering how those fingers had stroked her to sleep. How those palms had smoothed over her face when she’d needed it the most.

How those hands couldn’t be around to comfort her when they’d gone their separate ways.

She drew to her full, not-so-impressive height, raising her chin so she could give him a look that was half-casual, half-
Can’t you see I’m over you?

“You own this boat or what?” Something sank into her chest, drawing her heart along with it. Nice. The
thought of him being a success, of him accomplishing all those ambitions he’d held so dear ate at her.

“No.” He shrugged.

With that one word, Kat knew she’d hit a tender button. Even as vindication—the realization that he was almost as restless in life as she was—settled through her, she couldn’t help the burning itch that choked her throat. Out of old habit, a silent cry for connection, she reached out to touch his arm, to make him feel better, just because she knew the mediocrity had to be killing him.

But when he looked up, she caught herself, crossing her arms in front of her chest instead. Underneath her Billabong Surf T-shirt and faded jeans shorts, she was wearing a bikini. It made her feel too vulnerable, as if Will could see through all the material, see through
her
.

True to form, he got that familiar cocky gleam in his eyes because he no doubt knew what was going through her mind. He’d always been real good at that.

“But things are happening,” he said. “I’m working on owning my own rig.”

“At least you’ve graduated to captain.”

“And dive master,” he added, his jaw tightening.

It wasn’t a quick enough career trajectory for Will, Kat knew. She’d never met a person with more drive and dreams. For a few short months, Kat had ridden his rainbows, too, believing that, someday, a fallen golden boy and a girl who’d been on the free-lunch program in high school could make things work. Sigh, right? But then reality had hit. He’d shown his true colors.

And she remembered every nuance of their breakup down to the last, heart-shattering detail.

She wanted to say something to wound him since she’d been saving up the anguish for so long. Something to reveal that she realized just how much his failure to fulfill his goals hurt. But she couldn’t, because she felt the same damned way about herself.

Even after everything, she still needed him, dreamed about him, wanted him to live happy.

“You look good,” Will said softly, jerking her attention back to the present.

“And you’re still chasing the big pot of gold in the sky.” She wished she could stop herself, but pent-up frustration was getting the best of her. “I guess what happened with Captain Macintosh on your last sailing gig hasn’t stopped you.”

Even at the mention of the dark rumor that had dirtied Will’s reputation personally and professionally, he kept his dignity. “I was cleared of suspicion for his death. He was a good guy, but a drunk. I can imagine what happened—him saucing it up and spilling overboard when we’d docked and most of the crew—except me—went into town for some fun. I was under the weather that night, in bed. I never heard the captain go overboard. And when I found his body floating nearby the next morning…”

She knew. And even though there’d been mean whispers from Will’s old coworkers about how he could have benefited from the captain’s death by taking over the command of the luxury yacht
Sundowner
, she’d never believed any of the accusations. She hadn’t wanted to.

Sure, Will had developed a lot of deep resentment because of what life had done to him and his family. Sure he had that temper, but…

“You already explained,” she said, “back when…”

Back when she’d made that lone phone call—just one—to see if he’d recovered from the rumors. In pure Will style, he’d assured her that all was kosher—that Captain Macintosh’s drowning had been ruled accidental and that he’d moved on by switching rigs. He’d claimed he’d wanted to work out of San Diego again anyway before Kat had said a stiff, I-can’t-believe-I-just-talked-to-my-ex-and-I’m-still-in-one-piece goodbye.

Kat shifted her stance. “It looks like you’re mingling with your type on a regular basis now, judging from this boat. The beautiful people, right? Have they welcomed you back into the fold, even after all the scandal?”

“I wish.”

For a naked moment, his gaze grew a little lost, revealing enough to allow Kat a glimpse inside: the wounded boy whose socially prominent family had fallen from grace because of a father’s dalliance with the wife of a colleague. The kid who’d witnessed that same father being taken down by the enemies he’d made, peg by peg, dollar by dollar, until there was nothing left but a strategic, tragic drug overdose. The youngster who’d raised his family, a man of the house before his time. The man who’d put his heart, soul and body into cleansing the good name his father had ruined.

The man who’d disillusioned Kat during one pivotal moment, devastating her.

As if barring Will from reaching her heart again, Kat tightened her arms over her chest.

Mess me over once, shame on you. Mess me over twice…

He must’ve caught the defensive hint because, suddenly, the cocksure captain was back, leaning against the door, all heartless, predatory grace.

A slash of lamplight made the stubble on his jaw glisten. “So what’re you doing with the Harrington party?”

Long story. And it was one she didn’t owe him.

“Never mind that,” she said, clean out of patience for this unwelcome tension. “Captain, do you have any green tea on board? Hot tea for a cool morning, you know. Good for the soul.”

He sent her a glance that told her he knew she was getting some petty revenge, capitalizing on the fact that he was in her service.

“I’ll talk to Chef Linda in the galley.” He turned to leave then paused, grinning over his shoulder. “Funny,” he said.

“What?”

“You on my boat. The world works in mysterious ways.”

He was talking as if there was a purpose to her being here, as if they could take up where they’d left off. It riled Kat, heated the blood until it hummed in her veins. Simmered under her skin, awakening her in places best left cold with Will.

She walked to the door, rested her hand on it. “Don’t get too excited about the prospects.”

He turned, then backtracked a couple of steps, almost like a magnet pulled to her.

A dangerous tingle zipped through her. Dangerous because she didn’t want it, had spent a year trying to chase all the Will-tingles away.

Without another word, she closed the door on him, noting his raised eyebrows.

As she rested against the wood, she heard him chuckle, then walk away, leaving her and some awakened yearning for him alone.

Again.

When Duke trudged on board, hand on his abdomen and sweat beaded on his upper lip, Kat was watching her tea grow cold. In a chair on the top deck, she was taking in the morning sun as it nudged through the haze. In the meantime, the crew bustled around, readying for their departure.

“You. We’ve something to talk about,” she said, rising to her feet to relieve him of his small load of gear.

Duke managed a sheepish glance, tugging a baseball cap reading Harrington Enterprises over his eyes with a trembling hand. Not having any of it, Kat eased it off his head so she could really look at him.

“So,” he said, calmly retrieving his hat and struggling to readjust it over his brow. “Would this be one of those
talks
like you had with Yoko?”

“It
could
be.”

They were both quiet as Larry the crew guy grabbed
Duke’s diving gear and headed toward the lockers. Then, with a gently persuasive hold, Kat took hold of Duke’s Hawaiian shirt and guided him to a seat.

As seagulls wheeled overhead with their pitched cries of hunger, Kat said, “I met our captain.”

“Good.” Duke smiled weakly. “I was hoping you would before I got here.”

“And…?” Kat braced her hands on her hips, waiting for a response that never came. “
What the hell?
”

Duke paused, eyebrows knitted as if he was trying to recall a thought that had vanished.

For a second, she wondered if his recent progress on the new meds had been erased. If he’d gone back to the confusion, the mood swings, the endless vomiting up dark blood…“Duke?”

He blinked, smiled up at her. “I chartered a trip. And it just so happens that Will Ashton is the skipper.”

Thank God he was okay. Now she could let him have it. “
Dammit,
Duke. Do you think I buy that?”

He gestured for her to sit next to him, then laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. The contact had an immediate calming effect. Human valium, that was Duke to her system.

God, if she could only find a man who combined all the nice parts of Duke and Will, she would never complain about the male species again.

But Duke was Duke. A friend. An older friend. Someone who could never strike the sparks in her that Will did.

Kat exhaled. “This is one of your fix-it
crusades,
isn’t it, forcing closure between me and Will?”

There was a strained attempt to look innocent on Duke’s part.

“Or…please don’t tell me you’re trying to get us back together or something,” Kat said.

Duke stared at the dock.

“Oh, no. No, no, no…”

“Listen for a minute.” Sadness etched itself into the lines bracketing Duke’s mouth, his eyes. Taking his time, he laid it out for her. “I’ve heard it all from you, Kat, when you’ve got enough tequila in you. All the regrets you’ve had about leaving Will, all the times you’ve told me how much you miss him. You’re not going to be able to move on with any man until things are settled with the ever-present ex.”