Written in the Stars (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Cordelia wasn’t any more clear about the two men competing for her.
The one thing she wasn’t at all conflicted over—she had to find the celestial girdle
and remove the jeweled dagger from the equation.

Cordelia felt a bump that told her Foley’s Treasure had been snugged against the Evening
Star. She heard male voices followed by a thump on the deck above her. Quickly climbing
into a swimsuit and oversize T-shirt as a cover-up, she then picked up the artifact
Morgan had given her.

The moon and chain had a powerful effect on her, if that dream was any indication.
Even now, a thrum from her Posey ring made her think ring and chain “recognized” each
other. Not that she would share such a crazy notion with anyone.

But what if having the artifact with her could lead to the more important find?

Hesitating only a second, she pulled the artifact from under her pillow and hooked
the chain together. Then she slipped it over her head, tucking the crescent into the
top of her swimsuit, before entering the galley to find her mother entertaining Innis
over a cup of coffee.

Wisps of the night’s dream still haunting her, she somehow found her voice. “Morning.”

Innis’s wistful expression made her flush. He wanted her, thought they were destined
and longed for her to feel the same. She had no reason to suspect him. Regret coursed
through Cordelia. She had no proof that either man was not what he seemed to be. Only
the dream cast doubt in her mind. After all his planning for a romantic evening, Innis
must have been hurt at the way it had ended, with her distracted by Morgan.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

She flushed. “Don’t worry, I’m stoked to dive.”

“Great timing.” Mom removed a dish from the oven. “Breakfast is ready. Enough for
three.”

Eggs, bacon, chopped mushrooms, chunks of bread and cheese, all baked together. Cordelia’s
favorite.

“I don’t want to impose, Madelyn.”

“You’re not imposing.” Seeing Innis in person, Cordelia felt the tension from the
dream melting away.

Mom insisted. “You need protein before you dive.”

Innis shrugged and smiled. “Then I’ll have some.”

As they ate, they talked about plans for the day.

“I thought you and I should take the first dive with another team,” he said.

“Good by me.” The sooner she got in the water, the sooner she would have a chance
to find the dagger. She simply couldn’t put the warning out of mind.

“We’ll alternate with the other two teams, then go for a second dive this afternoon.”

She asked, “How much of the grid is laid down?”

“Enough to keep us busy for a few days. If we don’t find the mother lode within the
area, we can expand it.”

What if Morgan, staying to the periphery of their work area, had already found the
mother lode—the reason he’d had the chain and crescent?

Remembering she’d agreed to his proposed partnership, that she’d agreed to work out
the details today, breakfast suddenly lost its taste. She set down her fork and decided
talking to the man could wait until after her dive. Fingering the artifact beneath
her cover-up, she only hoped it could help her find the knife.

Scraping his own plate clean, Innis gave her mother a nod of approval. “Excellent,
Madelyn. Just the right start to the day.”

“Delicious,” Cordelia agreed, rising and kissing her mother on the cheek.

Taking their plates to the sink, they bumped hips. Cordelia smiled at Innis, who seemed
himself again.

“Have a good dive,” Mom said, her voice a bit wistful.

Cordelia wanted in the worst way to invite her mother to dive with them, but she suspected
it was too soon. Mom had asked her to stop pushing, so she would let things unfold
naturally. Not to mention, there was potential danger below the surface if her dream-vision
had any validity.

Innis let her cross from the Evening Star to Foley’s Treasure first, but he was right
behind her, and he surreptitiously brushed a kiss over her bared shoulder, then winked
at her. Warmed by the attention, she smiled at him, then glanced across the yacht
to see Morgan’s boat lazily bob on the other side, no one on deck.

Had he been so close all night?

At least in her dreams?

Which man?

Checking her gear before donning her wet suit, she tried to put the dream—and her
mother’s warning about the past catching up to the present—out of mind. But, wanting
to know what Morgan was up to, she couldn’t help but look for him. The older man,
today wearing an oxygen tank that had nothing to do with diving, was now on deck.
Was Morgan in the Sea Rover’s galley, or had he beat them into the water? Was he already
investigating the shipwreck?

“Ready?” Innis asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” Touching the chain and crescent still secured in her swimsuit,
hoping again the artifact could lead her to the celestial girdle and therefore the
dagger, she zipped up her wet suit.

“Start the magazine,” Innis told one of his men.

On the dive platform with a second team, they set their fins, lights, masks, regulators,
and mouthpieces in place and rolled back into the water.

As always, the magic of the sea lured Cordelia in deep…deeper…deeper. She wanted to
lose herself in the dive. The resurfacing of snippets of the dream prevented that.
Too aware of the risk, she darted her gaze in every direction, more focused on preventing
the dream from becoming reality than she was on finding the mother lode.

One of the divers found the second cannon, and all three men set about uncovering
it. Not that the find was of no interest to her—she was simply distracted.

Though she forced herself to concentrate on visualizing the girdle and dagger, no
matter where she looked, no matter how far out she moved on the grid, nothing sparkled
at her from within the sands. If the chain and crescent she wore was magically connected
to the celestial girdle or any other artifact, it wasn’t leading her to them.

So far, they’d only done nonpenetration dives, investigating exterior parts of the
wreck easily available. Maybe she needed to go deeper. Maybe the mother lode was still
in the bowels of what was left of the old ship.

Glancing over at the other divers, she saw they were focused on their canon and were
preparing to bring it up.

Penetrating the light zone of the wreck’s structure presented a slightly greater risk,
but she would keep the exit point visible, and she did carry a spare light in case
the one she was using went out.

Once inside, darkness surrounded her, and she could only see whatever her headlamp
lit directly in front of her. She kept an eye out for anything that looked off even
as she searched. Useless at this level. She would have to set a line to go deeper,
and she wasn’t prepared to do so without Innis or one of the other men by her side
for safety. She was trained in deep-penetration diving, which meant running a guideline
inside the wreck from her starting point. Following a line could be necessary to find
her way out if she stirred up sediments.

Thinking she should suggest such a run for that afternoon, Cordelia became alarmed
when her wrist suddenly began to burn and her ring tightened in warning. Startled,
she looked around to find she wasn’t certain of the way out now. Her mind had drifted
as she had from the other divers. Making her way through the dark, she hesitated when
a plume of sand suddenly surrounded her. Through it, she faintly saw movement straight
ahead, but she could make out no other diver.

Sharks?

Gasping at the thought, she nearly panicked, even though no shark appeared. Short
of breath, she realized she wasn’t getting enough air. Her gauge showed she had nearly
half a tank of air left. What the hell?

Trying not to panic—her lungs were already starting to protest—she knew getting to
the surface conscious would be a feat. Breathing slowly and shallowly, she reoriented
herself and found the exit, then inched upward. Without air, the climb was awkward,
and she was feeling unfocused. Her movements became sluggish and off point. Suddenly,
from out of nowhere, another diver grabbed onto her and pulled on her mouthpiece.
Panicking, she tried fighting until the diver shoved his extra air hose at her.

Gratefully taking it, she sucked in enough air to regain her bearings. Able to breathe
again, she relaxed and let him take her up. When they broke the surface, she stared
into the man’s mask to meet his green-eyed gaze.

Morgan.

The pirate had just saved her life. Grateful, she couldn’t help but feel warmth flowing
through her. Raising her mask, she said, “Thank you.”

“You looked like you were struggling. Like you were out of air. I would have done
that for anyone.”

She believed him, and the negative feelings she’d had for him suddenly seemed foreign.
And irrational. “I was out of air—”

“So what the hell happened down there?” he demanded, pulling up his mask. “Weren’t
you paying attention to your time?”

Before she could answer Morgan, Innis yelled down from the diver platform. “My God,
there you are! I thought you slipped by me and came up. I was just about to go back
down to find you.”

Indeed, he stood there fully dressed to dive.

The stress of the situation having drained her, she said, “Help me up, would you?”

Innis grabbed her hands, and behind her, Morgan secured her hips and lifted. She was
on the platform in seconds.

“I ran out of air!” she gasped.

“Weren’t you watching your gauge?” Innis asked as Morgan lunged up beside her.

“According to my gauge, I have half my air left.”

Morgan tried to take a look, but, his expression fierce, Innis latched onto the front
of his buoyancy-compensator vest and shoved him back against the pilothouse, where
he crashed into a slender woman. Thrown off balance, she grabbed Morgan, who kept
her from falling.

“Brigitte, are you all right?” Cordelia asked as she struggled with the straps of
her vest to remove it.

“No worries,” the woman murmured.

Innis helped Cordelia shed her equipment, after which he tested the gauge and tank.
He shook his head. “Tank is empty all right. And the gauge is stuck. Either that was
some coincidence…or someone tampered with it.” He gave Morgan a blazing look.

“Hey, I’m just the Good Samaritan who was trying to help.”

That Morgan had been conveniently nearby didn’t escape her.

Her good thoughts about him drifted away as the end of the dream replayed itself in
full Technicolor in her mind.

Innis glared at Morgan. “You could have swam here in the middle of the night and stolen
aboard to do your dirty work.”

“Were you trying to stop me from finding the mother lode by scaring me to death?”
Cordelia cried.

Morgan’s expression went directly to neutral, but his gaze cut through her. “Believe
what you will.” Not trying to convince her otherwise, he backed up.

She couldn’t stop herself from pressing him, from trying to get to the truth. “What
happened to the partnership you proposed just last night?”

Was the glory of being the one to find the mother lode so important to the treasure
hunter that he was willing to play Russian roulette with her life?

His gaze deepened, and she read things in it she wanted to believe.

“My mistake.” He rolled into the water.

Shaking now, she watched him go.

Innis took her in his arms and murmured, “I’ll never let him hurt you.”

But the suddenly hollow feeling inside her at the way Morgan had closed himself off
from her told her that it was already too late.

…

All pretense of negotiations gone, Morgan took to the sea like he had a demon inside
him. Though he’d been angry just with Innis to start when the man had forced him back,
he’d held himself in check for Cordelia’s sake. He tried not to think about the ungrateful
wretch. He’d helped Cordelia out of a dangerous situation—she could have died down
there!—and she’d turned on him in a heartbeat, simply on Foley’s say-so. He should
have known he couldn’t trust her.

Diving alone against all good sense, he was determined to finish his air. He had nearly
a third of his tank left. He went deeper than he had before.

His pulse began to thud just visualizing Cordelia, remembering how it felt to hold
her in his arms on the dance floor, not to mention the out-and-out chemistry of that
kiss. There was more to it, though, a connection he couldn’t define. It was as if
they had known each other forever, maybe in another lifetime.

Feel it…this need to be together which frightens us both…

Closing his mind to the imagined whisper, Morgan shook himself back to reality.

The kiss meant nothing. He was no sucker. He had to be out for himself—no one else
around here gave a damn about him. Well, maybe Emmett. His only regret was that he’d
given Cordelia the jeweled chain and moon. Even if he didn’t find the celestial girdle,
that piece of it would be worth a pretty penny.

Morgan forced his mind to the purpose of the dive. Foley’s crew had left the grid,
and he took the opportunity to check on what they’d done.

Not much. The sand they’d blown away was already encroaching on the site. Nothing
sparkled, nothing so much as shone from the sand. They would have to remove more before
finding treasure.

Treasure…the ring he’d found on the beach…damn!

He’d forgotten to take it off before diving. Wearing any kind of jewelry in the water
was a bad idea. Barracuda especially were drawn by the sparkle. He didn’t dare take
it off now and put it in a pocket lest he lose it. If he dropped it here, the sand
would suck it up and he’d never find it. So on his finger it stayed.

He swam toward an area of the site that peaked his interest, just outside Foley’s
grid. Sifting through the sand by hand—a soothing, repetitive motion—was good therapy.
It calmed the anger seething inside him. He found bits of rusted metal from the ship
itself, but nothing of any worth.