In Deep Waters (2 page)

Look away, look anywhere but at him.

She looked down. Right at the churning water. Oh, my...

"Watch out."

The warning registered, but it was too late. The wave smashed into her and tossed Kayla against the rail. She hit hard against her left hip. Cold water drenched her, soaked through her clothes. Saltwater stung her eyes and filled her mouth. Despite the slippery rail, she hung on. Lifeline or not, she wasn't taking any chances. She had researched what getting lost and rescued at sea entailed.

Strong arms lifted her and carried her onto the ship. She blinked to clear her eyes and came face-to-face with the pirate. His eyes were even darker up close. She shivered. From the cold.

"What were you doing just standing there?" Frustration--perhaps a little irritation--filled his voice. An ail-American voice. No sexy foreign accent for this pirate, she realized with a twinge of disappointment. He drew his full lips into a thin line. "Do you always walk around with your head in the clouds?"

His comment brought back painful memories of being teased. She had never fit in at school. Or anywhere else. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"The least you could do is thank me for saving your life."

She didn't like his attitude, and she didn't like being held in his arms. Her legs felt prickly. "I didn't ask to be rescued."

As he released her from his arms, he laughed. Her legs quivered on the rocking deck and wouldn't support
her weight. Kayla fell backward, landing with a not-so-graceful thump.

"You okay?" The tone of the pirate's voice softened. He sounded genuine.

Not trusting her voice, she nodded. Talk about a memorable entrance. She remained seated on the wave-tossed deck and he helped her out of her life jacket. He handed her a blanket "Here."

She muttered thanks and dried herself. The world closed in on her, and she struggled to catch her breath. Kayla glanced up. Half a dozen men surrounded her. Not your average tenured history or archeology professor types, either. No, these guys would look more comfortable on the back of a Harley than in a classroom.

"Give the lady some room, boys," the pirate said. "You're crowding her."

The men backed away, and Kayla's breathing returned to normal. Perhaps the pirate wasn't so dark and dangerous, after all. Perhaps he was a prince in disguise. Perhaps a gentle heart lay beneath his rough exterior....

Her legs prickled again. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience."

"A little late for that." His face darkened into a scowl.

Okay, he wasn't a prince. She wasn't a princess, so they were even. But he stood way up there, and she sat way down here. Time to lessen his height advantage. She rose and managed not to fall again despite the pin-and-needle numbness in her legs. The blanket pooled at her wet sneakers. She ignored it.

Kayla would spend the next month or two with these people--make that men. She didn't want to start out on the wrong foot. She was a calm and cool professional.

She could handle this. "Thank you for getting me on board."

His frank appraisal made her blush. His mouth twisted. "I'm Ben Mendoza. This is my ship, my crew and my expedition."

So he was the one in charge and looking for the
Isabella
in all the wrong places.
Figures.
All looks, no brain. At least she wasn't itchy or shivering any longer. "I'm Kayla Water--"

"Look, Watertown--"

"It's Waterton," she corrected. "I realize your first impression of me might not be--"

"Why should my impression of you matter?"

She wet her lips. "Because we'll be working together."

He blew out a puff of air. "Now, that's a good one."

"I was sent here to help."

Ben frowned. "The museum sent you to legitimize the operation and appease the investors."

He had it all wrong. "But I'm--"

"Already a distraction."

Kayla didn't know what she'd done to upset him so much, but the expedition had bigger problems than searching in the wrong location. The pirate didn't want her here. Too bad. She had the right to be here, and she was staying. Somehow she would make this work. "Mr. Mendoza, there seems to be a misunderstanding."

"I understand things better than you think." His eyes narrowed. "And I have one simple rule for you to understand. Stay out of our way. We have
real
work to do, Mrs. Waterson."

A slap across the face would have hurt less, but she wasn't going to let him get to her. "It's Waterton. Ms., not Mrs."

"Today's our lucky day, boys," a grizzly voice said from behind her. One of the "boys," no doubt. "She's... single."

"When has that ever stopped you, Wolf?" a man with a distinctive Southern drawl asked.

The comments didn't seem to register with Ben. "Let's get one thing straight. I don't care if your name is H20. No one wants you here but the investors and the museum."

"I wouldn't go that far, boss," the grizzly voice added.

Ben rolled his eyes. "But as long as you're here, you are my responsibility, so don't do anything stupid."

The "again" was implied. Kayla's mouth nearly gaped. He didn't have a clue as to why she was here or who she was. Damn Mr. Andrews, the museum's PR person, for not telling Ben more about her participation in the search. She imagined what his reaction would be when he learned the truth.

"Lucky me," she murmured.

Ben frowned. "Go change."

"I beg your pardon?"

He rolled his eyes again. This time it was directed at her. She didn't like that any better than she liked him.

"Common sense not part of your ivory-tower curriculum?"

Her cheeks burned, but she stared him straight in the eyes. "I blew that class off the same day I skipped the course you taught on rudeness."

He met her gaze but said nothing.

The seconds turned into a minute.

Damn Ben Mendoza. It wasn't supposed to be like this. How was she going to work with him? Kayla could barely breathe, and she couldn't blame it on claustro
phobia. Her heart rate increased, and she felt warm. Hot, actually.

Much to her relief, he broke the silence first. "Lock the door to your cabin. My crew is all too human and you've already given us a sneak preview of your...wares."

Kayla glanced at her clothes plastered to her like a second skin. Great, she was a poster girl for a wet T-shirt contest. She crossed her arms over her chest and noticed the men with leering grins and glints in their eyes. "All too human" was putting it nicely. For a highly trained technical crew of shipwreck location specialists, they were a motley bunch. Add a Jolly Roger flag to the mast, and she would be on a pirate ship.

Ben stood in front of the door to Kayla Waterton's cabin. Twice he'd raised his hand to knock. Twice he hadn't.

He'd given her plenty of time to dry off, change clothes and unpack. He'd used the time to chill himself. He wasn't proud of his behavior on deck, but he'd been caught off guard.

Kayla Waterton wasn't what Ben had expected. That bothered him. Annoyed him. Frustrated him, too.

And he'd taken it out on her.

Real smart, Mendoza.

Some pro he'd turned out to be. But he couldn't help himself.

It was bad enough the museum had to send anyone out here in the first place. A knife in the back. Xmarks Explorers had been good enough to partner with when no one else wanted to chase down the legendary lost pirate ship. But now, after he'd made all the preparations and done all the work, they wanted to toss a ringer into
the act. And not any ringer, a total looker who belonged on a catwalk and made men lose sight of what was important--their goals.

Ben Mendoza, meet your worst nightmare
--
Kayla Waterton.

Bulky life jacket aside, she'd stood on the gangplank looking more like a sea nymph than a maritime historian. By definition, a historian should have her hair pulled back into a tight bun, her body disguised by shapeless, gray, nonfeminine clothing and her eyes hidden behind a pair of bottle-thick glasses. He could have lived with that sort of woman on his ship. His crew, too. She would have been a pain, but she wouldn't have been a distraction.

Unlike Kayla. She was a distraction the size of the
Titanic
-sinking iceberg, and twice as dangerous.

Her long blond hair shimmered even with the overcast skies. Hair like hers was supposed to be worn loose-- brushing the middle of her back or a man's chest. Contorting her hair into a tight bun would constitute a criminal act.

And those eyes...an intriguing blend of green and gray, a mixture of colors from the sea and sky. Staring into her eyes, he'd felt a moment of recognition, a sense of deja vu. A familiar gnawing in his gut made him realize why. Kayla had a dreamy quality in her eyes. Similar to his father and his ex-wife.

The appreciative sighs and catcalls from his crew had echoed the jolt of attraction shooting through Ben the nanosecond he saw her.

But Ben had no room in his life for another good-looking, starry-eyed dreamer to mess up his hard work and his plans. He had a ship to find. He wasn't about to fail--he couldn't afford to. The crew and Madison were
counting on him to deliver. He wasn't going to blow this. Or let anyone else blow it for him.

Kayla Waterton had to go.

The investors and the Museum of Maritime History wanted her here. They were co-sponsors of the expedition and held the purse strings, so he wouldn't go against their wishes. But now that she'd arrived, all Ben had to do was make her decide to leave.

An idea formed. A bit devious, but she was the one who didn't belong here. She was the one who was going to get in their way.

Life on a salvage ship might be adventurous, romantic to some. But the reality was a far cry from images of opening a chest full of gold and jewels. A middle-of-the-night survey assignment, and Kayla would be begging to go back to the comfortable confines of her ivory-tower world.

Ben smiled. He'd make her feel like one of the crew, put her to work and watch disillusionment take over. The sooner she left his ship, the sooner he and the crew could concentrate on finding the
Izzy.

He knocked. The lock bolt clicked after a few seconds and the door opened. At least she followed instructions.

Kayla stared at him. Silence stretched between them like the calm before the storm.

"Do you need anything?" he asked finally.

"No."

She wasn't going to make this easy for him. Okay. He deserved it. "About what happened earlier..."

She'd changed into a pair of well-worn jeans and a white shirt. Damn, she looked good. Almost as good dry as she had wet.

He leaned against the doorjamb. "I was--"

"A jerk."

He shifted his weight. "That's one way to put it."

"A tyrant."

"That's another." Apologizing wasn't his strong suit. Nor was idle chitchat. But he deserved this, too. "I...I'm..."

He thought about the
Izzy-
Some had called the search for the ship a pipe dream, since many believed she didn't exist. At first Ben had seen the search as nothing more than a job. But after two seasons of looking for the
Izzy,
the search had become more. He wasn't about to lose funding.

No matter how he felt about Kayla Waterton, Ben couldn't let ego or pride get in the way now. Not when he was so close to finding the lost pirate ship and her stolen treasures he could taste it. Finding the
Izzy
would change his life, his crew's lives and, most important, his daughter's life. He wouldn't fail.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Kayla's brows furrowed, wrinkling her forehead. Something told Ben not to rush her. He stood and waited.

"Apology accepted." The pink tip of her tongue darted out and wet her lower lip. "Did you want anything else?"

Besides you.
The random thought hit too close to home. He hadn't wanted anydiing else--anything but the
Izzy
--until Kayla arrived. He would have to keep his distance. Not the easiest thing to do on a ship this size, but the last thing he wanted were any personal complications that could jeopardize the expedition. "A second chance."