Love Bites: A Sugar City Novella (Entangled Bliss) (7 page)

The guy held binoculars to his eyes. “Got it in sight, Cruz. To the port, fifteen meters, bobbin’ like a damn cork.”

“Unbelievable. Spur, Clancy, get the boat and walkies. Mates, this is it…let’s get our baby.”

Just as Jeff predicted, it got crazy. Sharona stood back, watching in awe at their speed and efficiency. Like a well-oiled machine, everyone knew what to do without being asked, and before she knew it, Jeff and two members of the crew were stepping off the back of the ship and onto a speedboat.

“Where are they going?” she asked Pax, who sat at the bolted-down chair and table in front of his laptop.

“To pick up Old Faithful number nine,” he replied.

She scanned her list, already knowing she wouldn’t find it. “And that is…?”

He eyed her skeptically for a moment, then sighed. “I guess it’s okay to tell you since you’re here. The Old Faithful program is detachable trackers. They store data but are too small to transmit tangible intel to the satellites like the large ones everyone uses. If we get close enough when the animal surfaces, we can detach ours remotely.”

“And it shoots into the sky,” she said, gazing toward the water. “Old Faithful, like the geyser at Yellowstone Park. Cool.”

“Cool?” Pax chuckled. “It’s more than cool, it’s ingenious. Cruz’s brain child.”

“Huh,” she said as she flipped to the front of her list, still not seeing anything called Old Faithful. “Could it be called something else? I don’t see that name.”

“You won’t find it on any inventory list from UM,” Pax said. “Jeff funded it out of his own pocket.”

She lowered her tablet. “Why?”

“For one thing, other groups have tried using similar prototypes and they’ve all failed, pretty publically. Jeff was able to partner with a group of engineers in Japan who came up with something radical. He didn’t want to get in the news if it didn’t work, didn’t need cameras from Animal Planet documenting everything.”

“I see,” Sharona said, and couldn’t help feeling impressed. “So now they’ve gone out to fish this tracker out of the water, so to speak?”

“We counted eight of our Old Faithful-tagged animals in this area. If we’re lucky, we’ll get all eight trackers today. The intel retrieved will be beyond innovative. This is a scientific first in the field of shark research…if it works the way Jeff hopes.”

Sharona nodded, then stepped to the side, watching the smaller boat speed a good twenty meters away. She could see Jeff, his blue shirt and dark hair, now partially covered with a sun visor that was somehow extremely sexy on him. Their boat slowed, made a sharp turn, then Jeff lowered a net attached to a long metal stick over the side.

Complete silence fell over the crew of the
Mad Hatter
, as everyone simultaneously held their breath, waiting. A few seconds later, Jeff straightened and held something high over his head. It was neon pink.

Everyone broke into cheers. Even Manny blew the horn. High fives were given all around, and then the crew raced to the rear of the boat awaiting the return of their leader.

Jeff was grinning wider that she’d ever seen him. He looked exhilarated and ocean-sprayed and just plain gorgeous. Sharona had the flash of an image of him coming out of a shower. What she would do for him to smile at her that way.

“Can you read the data right now? Here?” she asked Pax, keeping an eye on the pink tracker.

“That’s the major downfall. These transmitters don’t have a USB connection attached organically; that makes them too intrusive while attached to the animal. We’ll have to wait until we’re back at the lab.”

“Hmm,” she said, tapping that into her tablet.

“Every time the dorsal fin breaks surface with our tracker attached, it sends a ping to us. In the last year, our sharks have been traced all the way to South Africa and Hawaii. This species has never been tracked so specifically before. Our findings have been astounding.”

“How are they attached?” she asked. “Jeff said something about a…a hole-punch.”

“Those are for the long-term transmitters. They need to be able to endure up to five years in the water. Cruz refuses to use those now, not with
our
system. The Old Faithfuls are short-term, meant to stay attached for two years at the most so we can map their migration. For attaching purposes, in layman’s terms, we use a waterproof Velcro.”

“And they detach electronically?”

Pax nodded. “Completely battery operated. The whole thing flies off, barely leaving a mark on the fin.”

After recording all that in the notes section of her database, she said, “Thank you. I appreciate this information. When I talked to Jeff about the trackers earlier, he didn’t say anything about this. I think he’s a little protective.”

Pax laughed darkly and squinted into the sun. “Yeah, well, you would be, too, if you’d been trying to get approval for five years. Before that, even, he’d been nearly ready to patent an early prototype of Old Faithful when it was stolen.”

“By who? A competitor?”

“No.” Pax shifted in his seat like he’d divulged something he shouldn’t have.

What were they hiding?

“Let’s just say, a lot of the other teams don’t worry about getting consent through the proper channels,” Pax added. “But Cruz never skips a step. Our team is different.”

“How so?”

“You won’t find excessive amounts of chum aboard this ship, and very little bait. We do our best to not disturb the ecosystem whenever possible. We study their behavior so we can go to them instead of forcing them to come to us by pouring gallons of blood into the ocean. That was Jeff’s idea, too, and that philosophy in itself is innovative.”

“Sounds like you guys are pretty protective of these animals.”

Pax shook his head, his expression closing up. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered. “You’re a conservationist, aren’t you?”

Sharona blinked. It sounded like an insult. “I’m an animal lover, yes. But I’m not here to judge what you’re doing—my job is to collect facts.”

“Here’s this for a fact: you probably think you’re the one campaigning for more humane treatment of these animals,” Pax said, staring her dead in the eyes. “But all you’re doing is getting in the way.”

She didn’t know how to reply to that, because she didn’t know if it was the truth. Was SED Auditors—or more specifically—was
she
in Jeff’s way?

Pax gathered his laptop. “No wonder Cruz was as pissed off as I’d ever seen him the second you stepped aboard this vessel.” He shook his head, then walked away.

She stared after him, feeling a knot in her stomach. Was Jeff really that strongly against her being here? Was that kiss just what he’d claimed it was? Maybe he didn’t want to have to deal with the paperwork of someone being injured while aboard the ship, or he’d done whatever he could to keep from turning back to the mainland and scrapping the whole day.

She felt hurt and deflated at the thought.

Once back aboard the
Mad Hatter
, Jeff was accepting high fives from everyone. But there wasn’t much time for congratulations, because only a few minutes later, Pax announced another tracker had broken surface less than a mile away. And they were off.

In the next few hours, Sharona met with different members of the crew and managed to get through most of the auditing list. There were only a few minor discrepancies, and she couldn’t account for a two thousand dollar deposit on one of the pressure pumps. Other than that, everything was, for lack of a better term…shipshape.

While she worked, three more transmitters were retrieved. She watched Jeff go out on the speedboat to grab the device. She tried her best to stay completely out of his way, to do her job and only observe the crew celebrate every time one of those hot-pink corks shot into the air.

Jeff’s obvious nonexistence wherever she happened to be standing was duly noted, and after a while, Sharona was ready to get off the boat. No reason to be where she wasn’t wanted. She’d just finished wolfing down a sandwich and was chatting with Manny when a sixth device was spotted.

“Thirty meters south,” Pax reported. “This might be the last we get today. I’ll go out for it.”

“I’ve got it,” Jeff said, breezing by where she sat on the leaning post. “Grab some tucker and shade, mate.”

“Sure you don’t need a break?” Pax asked.

Jeff squinted out at the blue, rippling ocean. “Bogie’s driving the boat, water’s calm as glass, no need for three. Unless…” He glanced at Sharona. “Why don’t you come out?”

It was the first time he’d spoken to her in hours. “Are you sure? Don’t want to be in your way.” She cringed at the bitter, immature tone in her voice.

Jeff looked at her. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought you’d be in the way.” His tone matched hers. “But if you’re not up to it, no worries. I just thought you’d like a different perspective than what you see on your list there. More to report back.”

Well, this was true, and it wasn’t as if the speedboat was an inflatable raft. It was bigger than her car at home. And so what if Jeff was all business? Hadn’t he said that was the way it had to be, anyway? And like an idiot, hadn’t she agreed?

“Okay,” she said.

Jeff cocked his head. “Ladies first.”

Chapter Six

“Look, I know you don’t want me here,” Sharona said under her breath as she walked beside Jeff toward the chase boat.

He caught the hostile tone in her voice. What had changed in the past three hours? They’d discussed it and hadn’t they both agreed they were there to do their jobs?

Sheilas… Who the hell knows what they’re thinking?
He couldn’t figure
this
one out at all, and he wasn’t sure he should want to so badly.

His mind replayed the other time he’d allowed his business life to mix with his private life. That fatal slipup had cost him a year of research, and set the Old Faithful project way behind schedule because his early data had been pinched from right under his nose.

How could he have known the woman he’d trusted with his whole heart enough to marry could have betrayed him like that?

“You’re pissed that I’m here,” Sharona said. “I get that, and I’ve been trying to stay out of your way—as much as humanly possible given the circumstances. Just remember,
you’re
the one who invited me to retrieve the transmitter. And you’re the one who…you know…in the helm. So don’t go saying I muscled my way in.”

Jeff stared at her, feeling even more baffled. Though he did enjoy that her feisty, sharklike attitude was back. After she huffed and turned away, he shook his head and stepped onto the speedboat. Despite those long legs, it was a bit of a jump for her, so he reached out a hand. She glared at it, acting stubborn.

“Give me your damn hand, Sharona, unless you’re hankering for a dip.”

“Fine,” she muttered.

Once he had ahold of her, he gave her arm a tug. She stumbled on her landing, crashing into his chest. He caught her easily, not unhappy about the misstep bringing her body straight into his arms.

“Luckily you didn’t have a drink in your hand,” he said. Sharona exhaled a little laugh. “You can sit.” He pointed to the bench seat attached to the back of the small helm. “Or stand,” he added, gesturing to the spot next to him, trying not to be overly pleased when she took that spot beside him, taking a firm hold on the railing. Bogie didn’t drive very fast, and the floor of the boat was deep enough that only the wave of a breeching humpback would knock her around on a calm day like today.

Once they were both in place, Bogie pulled away from the mother ship.

Jeff had the walkie to his ear, relaying Pax’s direction toward the floating transmitter out in the open ocean. With their course locked in, he turned his attention to Sharona, taking in her long dark hair blowing in the breeze. She was holding it back in a ponytail with one hand, exposing her long neck. Why hadn’t he kissed her there? Suddenly, it was all he could think about.

“How far are we going?” she asked, breaking his concentration.

“The, uh, the tracker drifted a bit,” he said, pulling his eyes from the mesmerizing contours of her throat. “Maybe a hundred meters. Might have to circle a while.”

She nodded. He didn’t like how detached she seemed. Maybe he’d sent a mixed message when he’d kissed her. Although, he didn’t know what the hell kind of message he’d meant to send.

Even if what he felt for her was the start of something real, how could they make it work past today’s job? There was no way he could move to…where did she say she was from? Hershey?

Yeah, not many great whites in central Pennsylvania, Cruz.

“What do sharks find so special about this area off the coastline?” she said. “I mean, if you don’t
mind
my asking.”

That icy tone was back. Jeff didn’t like it. “I don’t mind. Whenever you have questions, just ask.”

She nodded but seemed as skeptical as before.

“A lot of our tagged sharks are here, though we don’t know why yet. Our research takes longer because it’s less aggressive.”

She glanced at him, biting her lip, looking pensive.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She exhaled. “It’s just…this whole thing is a lot more humane than what I imagined.”

“We’re not here to hurt any wildlife on or offshore.”

She nodded. “I can see that.”

After a moment of trying to read that look in her eyes, Jeff gave up and laughed. “I hate to think what you expected to discover today. I mean, aside from me poaching money from the uni to fund my personal booze cruise.”

Sharona laughed. He liked the sound of it, reminding him of how she’d giggled and tossed her hair last night. “I never once thought that.” She tucked some hair behind an ear, trying to keep it from blowing in her face. Jeff’s fingers twitched, wishing he could hold it back for her. “In my line of work, I’ve learned to expect the worst.”

“You’ve come across that many crooks?”

“You’d be surprised. I was originally hired as an intern while in grad school finishing my accounting degree. I always got the feeling I was being given the…
special
cases. Like I could make people tell me things they shouldn’t. I still feel that way.”

It was pretty easy to picture this. About ten seconds into their first kiss, if she’d asked him, he would’ve gladly divulged all of his ATM codes and the combination to his gun safe and his grandmum’s Tax File Number. Though he was sure Sharona Blaire wasn’t sent to make out with every auditing assignment. The thought actually made him want to laugh.

“What do you mean by special cases?” he asked.

“Like I’m supposed to
find
something,” she explained. “Sometimes I do, but I can always tell when it’s one of those cases.”

“And you felt that about today?”

“Sort of. But thanks to Pax and some of the other guys, the audit’s almost done. Everything is pretty much perfect.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I must be better at hiding my crimes than I thought.” He leaned toward her. “Joking.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh and looked down at the water. Sunlight bounced off the surface, sending bursts of sunny brightness across her face.

“Aside from all that, though,” she said, “and on a personal note, I’ve been really impressed with how you run your team. Obviously my job doesn’t have to do with marine life, but I’ve audited research teams similar to yours and you can’t believe the crap I’ve seen people try to get away with—really dangerous, irresponsible things. Damaging. I’ve always been a believer that science, too, needs its checks and balances. But even as an auditor, I also believe both sides should come together to make the planet a better place.”

“Isn’t that what you and I have been doing?”

When she finally lifted a genuine smile, Jeff hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. “Exactly like what we’ve been doing,” she said. “I’m not in your way and you’re not in mine. In the grand scheme of things, we share a mutual goal, but I’m not a distraction.”

He couldn’t help laughing, probably loudly enough to scare a school of hammerheads.

“What?”

“Sharona Blaire.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the smooth ocean surface. “You’ve been nothing but the sexiest, most desirable distraction of my life.” The admission hung in the air, suspended, and for a painful moment, he regretted being so open…trusting.

“I guess that means we have something else in common, Jeff Cruz.”

Sharona didn’t know if she should say more or simply wrestle Jeff to the floor of the boat.

Jumping to conclusions was the very thing she had to fight against whenever she went on a job. She dealt in facts and numbers, nothing else. And here she’d been assuming what Pax had told her about Jeff being personally pissed at her was the truth…without bothering to ask Jeff about it.

It might’ve been the biggest relief in her life when he’d called her sexy, like it was a fact. Though the situation wasn’t ideal by any stretch, neither of them could ignore their combustible chemistry.

“We’re nearly there.” His words snapped her awake.

“Great,” she said, wiping her sweaty palms over her shorts. “So, why
do
you think this area is popular with your sharks?” she asked again, needing to fill her thoughts with something besides how she felt the involuntarily urge to lick her lips whenever she looked at Jeff.

“Like I mentioned before, we suspect it’s a place they come to mate.” He shifted his weight and pressed his shoulder against hers, their bare arms touching. “But there isn’t much information yet.”

“What about the data on Old Faithful?”

“Did Pax explain the Old Faithful project?”

“It wasn’t on my list and I was curious.”

He lifted an eyebrow and leaned against the side of the boat. “Afraid I was one of your special cases?”

She laughed. “Maybe. What he told me, though, it’s fascinating. I’d love to know more.”

“When we’re back on the ship, I’ll walk through the whole process with you.”

“That’d be great.” She smiled and turned toward the water. “So, will the data give you any indication of why the sharks come here?”

He shook his head. “Doubtful. White sharks are quite elusive when it comes to reproduction.”

“Interesting. In what way?”

“Well, there are very few documented cases of anyone witnessing white sharks in the act.”

“Of mating?”

He nodded. It made Sharona want to laugh, how serious he looked. “Obviously, though, we know it happens, since the species isn’t extinct. Plus, there are telltale signs.”

“Like what?”

“Tangible evidence of intense force. Scars on their dermal denticles scales, tears, cuts, gashes from teeth.” He tipped his chin forward, bending his face to hers. “Though I’d rather think of them as love bites.” His gaze flicked to her mouth then away.

A sizzle broke out on the back of her neck, and the part of her arm touching Jeff felt like it was on fire. “Love bites,” she echoed in a whisper.

He nodded. “There’s documented proof that mature sharks who’ve mated are left with very specific markings.”

“Like it’s…rough?” she asked, feeling her heart pound, throat go dry.

“
Passionate
,” he tweaked, pressing his shoulder against hers again. She knew it was a deliberate move this time. “Or maybe it’s the way the male grips her and holds on…the most intense lover’s embrace in the animal kingdom. With creatures that have teeth sharper than knives, obviously that kind of shagging leaves very impressive dents. When it comes down to it…in the throes of passion, our species aren’t so different. I know I’ve learned a lot from my personal research.”

“Love bites…” she repeated, her voice coming out as a whisper. “Fascinating.”

“It is.” He matched her slow, hushed tone. “I shouldn’t brag, but I’m one of the top experts in my field.”

She swallowed. “Of shark sex, you mean.”

“Well, that, too. Anything you want to know on the subject, Sharona…anything”—he pulled back a sexy half grin—“I’d be happy to enlighten you.”