Eyes of Fire (9 page)

“Or joining the two of you,” Sukee murmured.

“Where are we diving tomorrow?” Sue asked.

“Away from the cannibals,” Darlene said.

“Cannibals?” Joey repeated. “I know there are sharks out there, but cannibals?”

“Yes, there are sharks,” Adam said idly.

“Sam?” Darlene said nervously.

“Darlene, I've been diving my entire life, and yes, I've seen sharks, but no, I've never been bothered by one.” She cast a frown toward Adam, who had the grace to look instantly contrite. She knew that he hadn't been referring to Darlene's kind of shark, but the damage had been done.

Adam stood and came over to Darlene. “Did you know that swimmers and especially surfers are sometimes attacked, but that divers are almost never attacked?”

“Really?”

He nodded. “They've done extensive experiments out in California. A lot of scientists think that the sharks see people on surfboards and in their minds, the surfer looks like a sea lion, which is what the shark normally likes to eat. You've got much more of a chance of being struck by lightning than you do of being attacked by a shark.”

“Really?”

“Really. Sharks are actually fascinating creatures. Many of them are quite harmless to man. And you know, they're related to skates and rays, like the giant mantas you see sometimes when you're down. You know, if you're careful and gentle, you can catch a ride on a big manta.”

“Maybe you wouldn't be so bad to dive with, either, Mr. O'Connor.”

“You can call me Adam.”

She grinned at him slowly. “You could dive with Sam and me, you know.”

“Hey!” her brother protested.

Sukee was quick to smooth his ruffled feathers. “Maybe I'd enjoy a younger man as a dive partner for the afternoon,” she said.

“Oh!” Brad said. His mouth remained in a circular shape. Even his parents laughed.

“Why don't we work all this out in the morning?” Sam suggested, a brittle smile curving her lips. Leave it to Adam. He'd charmed Darlene. He still had the touch.

His eyes met hers. She realized that she still had questions for him. And apparently he still had questions for her.

Odd. She'd known him for only a few months, a very long time ago. She had changed since then, matured. Maybe. But everything about him was disturbingly familiar. Everything she should have forgotten. She knew just how determined he could be. That he had come for something. He wanted something.

And she knew that he would get what he wanted.

“Perhaps Miss Carlyle would be willing to show the dive party the Steps tomorrow,” he said.

“The Steps?” Liam queried sharply.

Adam nodded, looking at Sam. Then he glanced at Darlene, smiling. “There are wonderful, fascinating things beneath the sea as well as the scary ones,” he told her. “Off North Bimini Island, just a little more than thirty feet down, are huge blocks that form some kind of an ancient foundation. No one knows what civilization set them where they are now. A construction company used some of them in Miami in the 1920s, I think.” He glanced over to Smith.

“Yes, it was the twenties.”

“Anyway, scientists think that the blocks are definitely man-made, and that they may be over ten thousand years old.”

“But we can't go to North Bimini, can we?” Brad asked.

“Not in a four-hour dive trip,” Sam said tensely.

“But,” Adam said, “Sam could take us to the Seafire Steps. Which are…”

He looked at Avery Smith.

Smith laughed. “There are a lot of strange man-made structures beneath the sea, and most of them make for fascinating mysteries,” he said. “Just a bit northwest of Seafire Isle are a set of steps. They begin at a point that's just thirty feet beneath the sea, then they dive deeper until they suddenly just disappear.”

“So where did they go?” Darlene asked.

“No one knows,” Avery told her. “But, like the Bimini Blocks, they're supposed to be very ancient, and naturally, they're very intriguing. Maybe, if Miss Carlyle takes you out there, you can discover where they go and solve one of the great mysteries of the deep.”

“What do you say, Sam?” Adam asked her.

She hesitated. She had been diving the Steps since she'd been a small child. She, Jem and even Yancy had made up stories about them when they were growing up. They led to Atlantis, or to a different, even higher civilization. On really whimsical days, they had imagined that they led to a secret doorway that would take them to a place where there were princes and princesses, maybe a magical bubble island in the sea, where pirates still ruled, or a unique island-within-the-sea where a Middle Eastern society flourished and all the tales told in the
Arabian Nights
came to life.

Of course, she'd been a child then.

She was older now, and looked at the world through eyes that had been narrowed greatly.

There was nothing all that mysterious about the Steps anymore.

She had avoided the Steps since her father's disappearance. He had loved them, had been fascinated by them. It hurt to go there. But though she no longer felt their enchantment, it did exist for children. Still…

“There are sometimes underwater currents there,” she said, stalling.

“There are sometimes underwater currents almost everywhere,” Liam said. “Would you actually consider it an unsafe dive?”

“No, no….”

“Sounds fun to me,” Sukee said.

Sam still hesitated, uneasy, though she didn't know why.

Yes, she did.

She thought that her father might have been diving near them the day he had disappeared. He had been talking about them with so much excitement right before they had parted that day. He had been drawn to the damned Steps, almost as if both he and the Steps
had
been controlled by some strange magnetic force. Hank, too, had found them fascinating.

“The Steps sound cool,” Brad said.

“I'd really love to see them, Sam,” Darlene told her earnestly.

“I…well, sure. We'll dive the Steps tomorrow, then,” Sam said.

“Not tomorrow,” Yancy told her. “Not if the weathermen are right. They say it's going to rain all day.”

“Well, then, we'll all sleep in tomorrow and dive the Seafire Isle Steps on Thursday.”

“No diving tomorrow?” Brad said, disappointed.

“We'll just have to sleep late,” Joey Emerson said to his wife. He spoke with such passion in his voice that Sam felt as if she was intruding on their privacy just by having heard him.

“A morning to sleep in,” Sukee murmured.

“Then the Steps. Great!” Jim Santino applauded as he swished his long hair out of his face.

“Skol!” Liam Hinnerman said, lifting the Scotch he had just refreshened in a toast to the rest of them. “Know where that expression came from, young Mr. Walker? It's believed that the Vikings drank to victory from the skulls of their slain enemies, then raised those skulls in salute to one another.”

“Oh, that is disgusting!” Darlene said.

“Neat, it's neat!” her brother insisted.

“Really, Mr. Hinnerman,” Judy Walker admonished.

“Nothing he couldn't learn right in his own school, and not half as bad as the news these days,” Hinnerman said.

Jerry North, at his side, was silent. She was staring at Sam, her lips taut. She appeared anxious. Unhappy, perhaps.

Suddenly Sam wondered why Jerry never went diving with them. Sam had never even asked her if she was certified, or if she wanted to take lessons on the island.

“Jerry, are you certified?” she asked.

“Certified? She's got certifications up the kazoo!” Liam said.

Sam arched a brow to Jerry, who nodded.

“Not just open water,” Liam said. “She's an advanced diver. An expert with nitrox.”

Nitrox allowed a diver to stay deeper for longer periods of time.

“Good for you. How come you haven't come diving with us?” Sam asked.

Jerry shrugged. “I lost my taste for the sea.”

“She nearly drowned a few years ago,” Liam said casually.

“Pretty serious,” Adam said sympathetically.

Jerry offered him a broad smile of thanks.

“She's all right,” Liam asserted.

“She doesn't have to dive if she doesn't want to,” Sam said firmly.

Sam continued to watch Jerry, but she turned away quickly when she felt a little trickle of warmth along her spine. Adam's eyes, she thought. She looked toward him. She'd been right. He was studying her.

And he was smiling. Just slightly.

Adam had indeed come to Seafire Isle for something. And he was going to get what he wanted. In fact, he was already on the way to doing so, she realized.

Because Adam was just as eager as everyone else to dive the Seafire Isle Steps.

Why?

The question burned inside her.

“A
h, here comes Jem to lead us in to dinner!” Yancy exclaimed.

For another several seconds, Sam continued to stare at Adam.
What was he up to
?

And which one of her guests was dangerous? Who had been in her bathroom? Oddly enough, she realized, all of her male guests were of a similar height. Tall. Six-one, six-two. All about the same build.

She glanced quickly from Adam to Jim, then to Liam, before moving on to Joey Emerson and Lew Walker. Even Avery Smith stood a good six-one.

She looked at Adam. He was still watching her. Reading her thoughts. She turned quickly away from him, telling herself that she had a busy evening ahead. And in fact, for the next several hours she was so busy that she didn't dare take time to think.

Jacques summoned her to the kitchen, along with Yancy and Jem. She poured spoonfuls of the delicate white wine sauce on the dinner plates in an assembly line just before Jem slipped servings of the perfectly baked snapper Jacques had prepared atop them. Yancy served.

When it was actually time for her to sit down and eat, she found herself beside Jim Santino. As she ate, she couldn't help but notice that Sukee had maneuvered into position beside Adam.

The evening wound down slowly. The Walkers—all four of them—were the first to retire for the evening. Jerry seemed more interested in staying at the main house than in the concept of a return to her cottage—with Liam. Liam, however, seemed tired, irritable and ready to go, so Jerry went along.

The others slowly followed suit; Sukee, Jim and Adam holding out the longest. Sukee and Adam seemed to be getting along quite well.

Sam finally gave out herself, wondering if Adam would make an attempt to follow her.

Surely he'd feel compelled to keep her safe.

“Good night, all,” she said, suppressing a yawn. “Don't forget, we all get to sleep in tomorrow. But for those who want to see the Steps on Thursday, remember that breakfast is from six-thirty to nine, and the dive boat leaves at nine-thirty sharp.”

“I'll be there,” Sukee promised. They were in the bar at that point, and she had a brandy snifter in her hand. She swirled the liquid in her snifter as she leaned close to Adam. Jim leaned closer, as well.

Pretty soon, Sam thought, the three of them would crash into each other and knock each other down.

The hell with them.

“Well, then…good night.”

“G'night, Sam. Thanks for another great day,” Jim told her, winking.

He tossed his hair back. She was sure that he saw it as some kind of a strange compliment to her.

She nodded.

“Good night, Miss Carlyle,” Adam said. He, too, had a brandy. He lifted his glass to her.

She lifted a hand and exited the bar by the porch, muttering to herself as she started across the lawn toward her cottage.

“That rat bastard supposedly saves my life—years after destroying my heart and any belief I might have had in my own sex appeal—then drinks brandy with Sukee all night. Is this fair? Why is he back in my life? Dear God, is this necessary?”

She thought she heard a rustling in the hibiscus bush at her side. She spun around, staring into the shadows created by the blaze of night-lights on the paths around her.

She felt the whisper of the night breeze. Nothing more.

She started walking again, drawing her key from the slim pocket in her knit dress. When she reached her door, she opened it quickly, stepped inside, closed it, locked it, then leaned against it.

She walked through the living room, the kitchen, growing more nervous as she did so. She needed a weapon, she told herself. Just in case Ski Mask came back.

She opened the huge old secretary that stood beneath her father's treasure map. The secretary had once graced a captain's cabin on a ship; it had been one of her father's favorite pieces of furniture.

She found his Revolutionary War flintlock musket. No ammunition, of course—should she know how to manage the antique flintlock to begin with. Still, she could use it as a bludgeon to protect herself if necessary.

It would be better than nothing.

She opened closet doors. She went into her bedroom—then her bath.

Every window was still closed and locked. Her cottage, she was convinced, was empty.

She started turning off lights, then froze as she began to close the living room shutters.

There was a figure standing on the path that led to her cottage. Tall and dark. Watching her cottage.

Watching
her.

She inhaled, exhaled. Then she lightly bit her lower lip. The figure was walking calmly down the path, making no secret of the fact that he was coming to the cottage.

Adam, she thought.

She half-smiled, leaning against the wall. She'd been right—he'd had to come back.

He had to protect her. He had come to her island. After someone or something, true, but he had managed to come into her cottage at just the right time.

And now he was coming back.

To protect her. He would insist, of course, that he couldn't leave her alone. That she had to be protected, and that there was no one who could protect her the way he could.

He would want to move in.

Well, she would tell him what was what. She would get him this time. He wasn't coming anywhere near her.

The knock she'd expected sounded on her door.

She threw it open.

And gaped.

It was Jem.

Tall, dark and handsome, all right.

“Jem!”

“Who were you expecting?”

“I, uh…”

“Adam, right?”

“Are you coming in or not?” she snapped. Adam, it seemed, was apparently spending the night with Sukee.

He smiled. “You bet I'm coming in. I'm sleeping on the sofa.”

“Oh, Jem, that's not necessary.”

“It sure as hell is. You were attacked right here, and I didn't have the least idea.”

“How could you have? Don't be silly.”

“Adam suggested that you shouldn't be left alone. I agree.”

“But, Jem…”

“I'll be on the sofa, Sam.”

“Great. Make me feel guilty about you getting a sore back sleeping on my sofa.”

“I can't sleep in the bedroom, Sam. Too kinky. It would be like sleeping with my own sister.”

“Cute.”

Jem grinned. “Go to bed, Sam. You have the opportunity to sleep in, thanks to the weatherman.”

“That much will be nice. If I can get to sleep at all.”

“You'll sleep. Go to bed.”

She wouldn't sleep, though. She would lie there, wondering.

She smiled suddenly, ready to laugh at herself. Okay, so she'd wanted the chance to turn down Adam O'Connor and she hadn't gotten it. So what? Jem was just as good as a brother, and it was wonderful to have a friend who cared so much.

She kissed him on the cheek. “I'll get you a couple of pillows and some blankets.”

She did so, then retired to bed herself, where she tried to sleep.

She kept tossing and turning, tossing and turning.

Adam was back in her life.

Back in her life….

And it felt as if he'd never left. As if she knew him still.

She didn't know him at all!
she reminded herself.

She jumped at a sudden shrill ringing, then realized stupidly that it was the telephone by her bedside. She lifted the receiver.

“Hello?”

“You're all right?”

Adam.

She was annoyed to feel a subtle warmth rise to her cheeks. “I was sleeping,” she lied.

“Jem's there with you?”

“Yes. Where are you?”

“My cottage. I believe it's the one you call Paradise.”

“Um.”

“Want to know about your guests?”

“Are you…alone?”

“Checking up on me? Worried about me? Miss me?”

“Don't be absurd.”

“Were you imagining that I had Sukee here beside me?”

“It would be completely your own affair if you did, Mr. O'Connor.”

“Then why did you ask?”

She made certain that he could hear the depth of her very impatient sigh. “I was attacked this evening. Naturally I want to know as much as I can about who's where on the island.”

“Interesting. Since you know so little.”

“Thank you for that assessment.”

“Do you want to know about your guests or not?”

“Do I?” she demanded. “You're not going to hang up on me if I say yes?”

He laughed softly. She gnawed on her lower lip. Just the sound of his laughter seemed to brush sensually into her soul.

And other places.

“Talk!” she told him.

Amazingly, he obliged. “Your Mr. Avery Smith isn't a Mr. Smith at all.”

“What?”

“Mr. Smith isn't Mr. Smith.”

“Then who is he?”

“James Jay Astin. Founder and chairman of the board of SeaLink.”

Then, having made certain that Sam couldn't possibly sleep all night, Adam clicked off.

 

The Walkers had a two-bedroom cottage on the opposite side of the main house from Sam.

The kids were tucked into bed. Judy was being silent. The kind of silent Lew Walker just hated in his wife. Her lips were pursed. She'd changed into her nightgown, a long silky thing that should have been nice and sexy, just right for an island vacation for a man and his wife. However, as she pulled the covers neatly down on the bed, she kept up her silence—creating a killer chill within the room. Any excitement he might have been feeling withered in his BVDs as he watched her.

Finally the silence got to him.

He walked behind her and slipped his arms around her body. She stood very stiffly, not fighting him, just casting that awful chill.

“Judy—”

“It's not right,” she said. “What we're doing—it's just not right.”

“Judy, we need the money,” he said.

“There are other ways to make money.”

“We have two children. We have to survive.”

“We have two children. We're supposed to teach them right from wrong.”

“We're not really doing anything wrong.”

“The hell we're not.”

“The way you see it, maybe.”

“Lew, just don't touch me right now, all right?”

He froze himself, then released her. He walked around to his own side of the bed and slid beneath the covers, keeping his back to her.

Judy turned off the lights. Once she got into bed, she kept her back to him, as well.

The chill, Lew thought, had turned into a regular ice storm.

He sighed and tried to sleep.

The day after tomorrow, the Steps.

 

Jerry North sat, legs curled beneath her, in a wicker rocking chair on the small porch that surrounded their bungalow. She looked out at the night. The sky was velvet black, dotted with unbelievably bright stars.

Beautiful.

The island was beautiful. Peaceful, elegant, casual. A perfect place to call home.

How ironic, how sad.

She felt Liam coming out to stand behind her. “You're going to have to go diving soon,” he told her.

She shrugged.

“I can dive, but it won't help.”

“You're the only one who really knows.”

“I don't know anything. I didn't know what I was doing then, and I surely won't have the least idea now.”

“Well, who knows? Anything is worth a try. Adam O'Connor is here. You know damned well he has to be working for someone.”

“Maybe he's just after the truth,” she murmured.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, really…”

Liam was silent, thoughtful. “You still haven't learned anything from Samantha?”

“Samantha doesn't know anything.”

She heard him sigh. He was getting insistent. She bit her lower lip.
She could just leave now. Leave Liam. Surely he would let her go….

And maybe not. Maybe what she did or didn't know, could or couldn't remember, mattered to him far more than she imagined. Well, almost everything else she'd ever done in life had been a mistake, why not this, too? Liam wasn't bad. He never pretended he didn't appreciate other women, nor did he ever pretend to love her. He was blunt, curt, rude, temperamental, aggressive. He could be violent—he was one of those men who believed a man had a right to knock a woman around a bit if she needed it—but never to the extent that he really hurt her.