Stolen Chances (12 page)

Her heart rate jumped. The words sounded as if someone had spoken them right next to her ear. Only that wasn’t possible underwater. Her mask wasn’t fitted with a communication device.

All men lie.

Maren whipped back the other direction and searched the ocean floor, sure a woman had to be down here somewhere. Only she saw no one.

The words whirled around her like a vortex, and her heart rate shot up higher. Her breaths came fast and shallow as she looked right and left with wide eyes.

Something hard brushed the side of her head, and she jerked around again. A hiss echoed through her ears.

Don’t trust him.

Panic closed around Maren. She kicked as hard as she could and filled her buoyancy control to get her to the surface fast. She wasn’t deep enough to need decompression stops. Air. She just needed air. She didn’t even care that she was leaving her dive partner. She needed fresh air. Now. Right now…

She broke the surface with a gasp, yanked off her mask, and gulped in sea air. Slamming her eyes shut, she tried to steady her pounding heart in the warm afternoon sunlight. A shiver racked her body. She ignored it. Focused on breathing.

In and out, slow and steady. You just got spooked. There’s no one down there. You can handle this.

A knot formed low in her stomach. Losing her cool with Patrick over the way he’d tricked her was one thing, but freaking out in the middle of a dive was something else altogether. And if Thad wondered about her mental state…

Water gurgled to Maren’s right. Without even looking, she knew Thad had surfaced next to her. “What happened?” he asked. “Did you see a shark?”

She shook her head but kept her eyes shut, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d lose it. She just needed a minute to get her bearings straight.

When she swiveled away from him, he caught her arm and turned her back. “Are you okay? Maren, talk to me. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her eyes popped open, and for the length of time it took her guard to come up, fear clawed at her chest.

“I’m fine,” she managed in a shaky voice. “M…my tank must be on fumes.”

He checked her gauges. “You still have 400 psi in your tank.”

“Well, it wasn’t working,” she said, irritated. Why was he pressuring her? Couldn’t he tell she was already rattled?

He tapped on the gauge. “Did you try your octopus?”

Yeah, that was a logical next question. Her alternate air source. Her brain wasn’t working fast enough to cover her lie. “I…I wasn’t that deep. I just wanted to get to the surface, okay?”

The look he sent her said it wasn’t okay. And for a split second, she felt like curling into him, letting him hold her, letting his arms and strong body block out the voice that was still ringing in her ears.

But that wouldn’t help, and she didn’t want to need him, dammit. Noticing him and feeling a burst of longing was way different from falling into the old trap where she leaned on him. Because she’d done that once, and when he hadn’t been there for her, her world had crashed down around her.

“Look,” she said, “let’s not revert back to the old days where you think you have to watch over me every time I dive. I’ve tangoed with a tiger shark, remember?”

“I wasn’t trying to hover over you.”

Hand shaking more than she wanted to admit, Maren reached for her mask. She didn’t like the worry in his voice, and she especially didn’t like how she was reacting to it.

Thad’s long fingers stopped her before she could get her mask on. “Take a few more breaths before you go back under. I don’t want you to hyperventilate on me.”

A tingle spread over her skin where he touched her. It was stupid and childish and probably irrational, but she couldn’t help but remember when he’d had her pressed up against the wall of the market. And how her body had come alive just that fast.

God, her emotions were all over the map. One second she wanted to lean on him, the next to push him away, and now she was staring at his lush mouth, wondering if it tasted the same as it had all those years ago.

Averting her gaze, she drew in a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Hoped like hell her voice sounded seminormal when she said, “Did you find anything?

“A Rainier beer can.”

“Really?” She forced a smile she didn’t feel. Hoped he couldn’t tell. “That beer comes from my home state. I didn’t even know they made it anymore. What are the odds it would end up down here?”

“About as good as you and me winding up here together, I’d say. Goes to show anything’s possible.”

Her smile faded, and heat spread through her belly and hips as her gaze slid back to his dark eyes. He’d pulled off his dive cap and mask, and his wet hair glistened under the sun. Water ran in rivulets down his sculpted jaw covered in a day’s worth of scruff, and for the first time since seeing him again, she wondered how many other women had run their fingers over that jawline. How many had nibbled on the soft curve of his lobe, how many had tasted those masculine lips as she wanted to do right now.

“Makes it about a million to one,” she managed.

“Probably more like a billion to one. I guess that means we’re lucky.”

Her heart thumped hard. She was reading too much into his words. He was only worried about her because she was his dive partner. He wasn’t worried about her as a woman. Definitely not as his ex-lover. All that stuff before at the market…he’d just been messing with her, trying to get under her skin like he did with everyone. She saw the way he joked around with Drummer, the way he flirted with Lisa and the other female grunts Patrick had hired. It didn’t mean anything. And no matter what her irrational mind and thrumming body were telling her right now, she didn’t want him to be worried about her, period.

She looked out across the water and tried to get her head back in the game, but he was still watching her with those concerned, heated eyes.

She needed to change the subject, fast. “I don’t suppose Doña Marina drank beer.”

One side of his mouth curled in a lopsided smile. A sexy, kiss-me-crazy smile she caught from the corner of her eye. One that lured her in, took hold of her heart, and refused to let go. “I doubt it.”

Maren’s pulse skyrocketed. And under the warm Caribbean sun, she realized she wasn’t just in trouble, she was in
serious
trouble.

She wasn’t over him. She wasn’t anywhere
near
over him. Two days with Thad Leighton, and her entire world was already tipping on its axis. She had to put distance between them before she said something that gave her away. Before she did something to ruin everything. Like jump his bones, right here in the water.

With shaking fingers, she slipped her mask back on. “I feel better.”

Before he could respond, she dove under the water and swam hard in the direction of the
Escapade
.

And reminded herself that any kind of relationship with Thad outside work would have consequences. The problem was, at this point, she didn’t know if she could stop it.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

M
aren skipped dinner in the dining hall with the rest of the crew and instead munched on snacks in her cabin as she studied her father’s graphs and charts recording the last known location of the
Conquistador
. She compared it to the marks where he’d found Castillo’s sword and let out a sigh. There was a twelve-mile gap.

A gentle knock sounded at the door, and she looked up. Patrick’s grim face peered through the screen. Her back straightened, and he took that as a sign to pull the door open.

“We missed you at dinner,” he said.

She wanted to ask who “we” included but stopped herself. Just thinking about Thad made her skin shiver. “I wanted to spend some time going over the charts.”

He glanced at the notes she’d jotted down. “You think my coordinates are off?”

She shrugged and rolled her shoulders. “Maybe. Twelve nautical miles is a fair distance. The coastline has changed, and it’s probable when Atticus hit, they maneuvered the boat out to sea to avoid the storm surge. I’m just starting to wonder if by spending time looking in the cenotes, we’re wasting our efforts.”

“Don’t wonder. Tell me what your instincts say.”

His request for her opinion surprised her. When had he ever done that?

She bit her lip. Not because she didn’t want to tell him but because her instincts were no more scientific than his obsession with a legendary relic. “I think it’s possible Leonard did what you said. That he found a dingy, rowed back to the mainland, and tossed
La Malinche
in a dark hole. Maybe himself too, since he knew he was dying. But there’s also the very real possibility he died before he ever got there. That his son turned on him, either on board the
Conquistador
or on their way to the mainland. If that’s the case, she could be hidden in the sand anywhere from the coast to the wreckage. And that’s assuming he didn’t take her back to Spain.”

He nodded in agreement. And she realized he’d already considered that fact and didn’t care. He was committed to this location, heart, mind, and soul. And if she wanted to walk away from this dig with her freedom, she needed to do the same.

“Are you up for this, Maren?”

Her gaze met his briefly, held for a moment, and in his blue eyes she saw concern. It wasn’t like him to be worried, at least not about her, and she wasn’t sure how to react.

Feeling unsteady, she set her pencil down and headed for the small kitchen that was really no more than a long counter. “Do you want coffee?”

“Sure.”

She poured two cups from the fresh pot she’d made earlier, handed him one and sat at the table.

“I need to know something,” he said as he eased into a chair across from her. “Are you going to be able to work with Leighton?”

Okay, so the concern was for the dig, not her. That sounded more like the Patrick she knew.

Her mind strayed to what had happened earlier on her dive. A chill rushed down her spine, but she shook off the feeling. “I’ll be fine. I’m a professional. In my lifetime, I’ve had to work with several people I don’t like. I’ve even managed to put on a happy face and pretend to enjoy it.”

“I know you can do it. You’re a Hudson, after all. I just want to make sure it isn’t too much for you.”

“I’m here, and I’m staying.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Have you spoken with Isabel since you’ve been here?”

Her gaze flicked to the screen door, and, confident they were alone, she glanced back his way. “Yes.” She hated the way his face softened when he talked about his granddaughter. Hated even more the way she wished his face could look like that just once because of her. “This afternoon. She’s fine.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s fine as well.”

He nodded again and ran a hand across his forehead. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he was nervous.

Silly thought. The man was never nervous.

“Look, Maren, I realize it’s a little late to play father with you, but, well, I hope you think long and hard about what you’re doing with Isabel.”

Her jaw clenched, and she fought back the resentment. “It’s none of your business, Patrick.”

“It is my business whether you think so or not. She’s my blood. And regardless of my personal feelings for Thad Leighton where you are concerned, he deserves to know about her.”

He had harsh feelings toward Thad because of her? That was news.

Unable to sit still, Maren took her cup to the small sink in the kitchen and tried to keep her voice calm. “Don’t push me on this one. I’ve made choices in my life that have gotten me to this point. Where I go from here is my decision. Isabel knows I won’t stand in her way if she wants to find him, but at this point, she doesn’t. That’s all there is to it.”

“There’s more, Maren.” He rose and followed her to the closet-sized kitchen. “I wish I could change the things that have happened to you in your life. I wish I could go back and be a better father and make it easier for you, but I can’t. You’ve locked yourself away these past few years, closed down from the people around you. I just don’t want to see that happen to Isabel.”

Of course he was worried about Isabel. That wasn’t a surprise. But why couldn’t he be worried about her?

Maren looked away and checked her emotions.

When she didn’t respond, Patrick let out a sigh and leaned back against the worn counter in the cramped space. Tension hung like thick clouds in the air. “Your mother and I never did a very good job of telling you how we felt. We both just assumed you knew. Maybe it’s why you are the way you are today.” He shook his head as if he were at a loss for words. “All I know is you’re different from us. You’re more emotional, but in a good way. Sometimes…” He sighed. “Sometimes I wish we could be more like you. I just want you to realize you don’t have to handle everything all on your own.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Was there a compliment laced in with that reprimand?”

Patrick rubbed his chin and flashed an annoyed look. “I’m not reprimanding you. I never thought you needed to hear praise. You’ve always been good at everything you’ve ever done. You sailed through school, you’re raising an amazing daughter, you saved your mother’s hotel and knocked the socks off everyone up on that godforsaken island. I know I wasn’t supportive of you going up there and sacrificing your career for her, but I want you to know I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Her fingertips gripped the counter. “A whole slew of compliments? Patrick, are you feverish?”

He frowned. “You also happen to be obnoxious and bullheaded, and, sometimes, downright cold. And if you’re not careful, those qualities are going to be your downfall. I just really don’t want to see that happen.”

He turned and headed for the door before her brain could click in gear and she could think of something to say. “Get some rest and be ready to dive in the morning.”

Maren rubbed her temples in complete astonishment as the screen clapped closed in his wake. What exactly had just happened? Was her father seriously trying to form a bond after all these years? That was a ludicrous idea. He’d never really tried before. Why would he start now?