Under the Surface

Clamping his fingers around the railing, Jackson forced himself not to turn and watch her walk away. There was no point. He knew exactly where to find her.

* * *

LORALEI NEEDED A DRINK. Or several. Yep, definitely several of those pretty orange and pink things every restaurant and bar seemed to offer. Fruity concoctions with enough alcohol to help her forget that tomorrow she would be on a ship surrounded by nothing but ocean.

God, she wished Melody was here. Her best friend had offered to come, but she couldn’t get the time off. Melody was about the only person who knew of Loralei’s phobia. She supposed it wasn’t that important to keep it a secret, but she didn’t like weakness—especially in herself. And it was difficult to look at her fear as anything but that. Over the years she’d tried to logic herself out of the irrational reaction, but nothing seemed to work.

Melody had discovered the truth by accident several years into their friendship. Even then, Loralei had been reluctant to admit the extent of her phobia until her friend had backed her into a corner, unwilling to accept her lies.

She didn’t bother changing clothes before heading down to the bar attached to the hotel. She wasn’t in the market to get picked up so she didn’t care if her makeup was smudged and her clothes wrinkled after a long day of traveling.

She honestly didn’t care about anything aside from settling her nerves.

Walking across the plush carpet, she let the dim light and soft sounds wash over her. If not for the calypso music and beach-chic decor, she might have been able to convince herself she was home in Chicago, which is where she’d much rather be, instead of on a Caribbean island.

Sliding into a booth in the far corner, she placed her order and then drilled her fingers into the table while she waited for it to be delivered. She should probably order food, too, but she didn’t. Maybe in a bit, when her stomach stopped churning.

Her waitress dropped a heavy margarita glass onto a tiny white napkin and then slipped away. Loralei brought the drink to her lips and sipped, closing her eyes in pleasure as the fruity taste of it exploded across her tongue. Pineapple, strawberries, possibly mango.

When she opened her eyes again a man stood at the end of her table watching her. She started. The slushy contents of her glass rocked over the edge, sliding thickly down the angled curve to pool on her fingers.

With a frown, Loralei switched hands, brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked.

The man groaned low in his throat. Uneasiness crawled up to settle right between her shoulder blades.

“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked, folding his body in half before he’d finished the question.

“Yes, I do mind. Nothing personal, but I’m not looking for company.”

His body stalled, shock crossing his face for the briefest moment before it was gone again. She supposed he was the kind of guy who didn’t hear the word no often. He was handsome enough in a professional kind of way. Probably on vacation. Possibly with a wife upstairs.

A smarmy smile replaced his startled expression, as if he expected she would change her mind at any moment.

Something about this guy made her seriously uncomfortable. And that was saying something considering the emotional turmoil she’d already been struggling with.

At least he straightened, keeping his rear from occupying the seat opposite her. “Let me buy you another drink.”

“Nope, I just got this one and I plan on nursing it for a while.”

She hadn’t been, but what was a little white lie in the grand scheme of things? Nothing if it kept his guy away from her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Loralei watched a man she’d noticed on the docks stalk across the bar. Over her admirer’s shoulder, she saw him walking in their direction.

Now he was gorgeous in a blond-surf-god kind of way. Tall, if she had to guess, several inches over six feet. Being five-ten she was used to looking most men in the eye. But not him.

If she’d been here to pick up someone, he definitely would have been on her list of prospects. Tall and muscular. The kind of guy whose mere presence commanded attention.

Yummy on a stick, as Melody would say.

He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts with about a million pockets sewn up and down the thighs. A pale blue polo stretched taut across his broad chest, the soft material doing little to conceal the swell of pecks and dip of abs. He hadn’t bothered to fasten the three tiny buttons, and she could see a dusting of pale blond hair that swept across his chest.

The color perfectly matched the honey-toned, tousled hair on his head, which looked as if he, the wind or some red-lipped siren had just been ruffling through it.

Loralei’s mouth went dry. Bringing the glass she still held to her lips, she gulped down a huge swallow of the slushy goodness to try to relieve the pressure. It didn’t quite work.

Especially when she realized the bronzed god was heading straight for her and not to one of the nearby tables.

She barely had time for a full breath before he was pushing the guy she’d completely forgotten out of the way.

“Excuse me,” he said, drawing close to her.

Leaning down, he brushed his mouth against hers, warm and soft. All Loralei could do was sit there and stare up at him.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” he murmured, the low timber of his voice making every muscle in her body melt. She was pretty sure he’d also liquefied the frozen drink in her glass.

Somehow she managed to murmur something that obviously passed as appropriate because he smiled down at her, his unbelievably blue eyes twinkling with mirth and mischief.

Loralei’s mouth dropped open—she wasn’t sure if the gesture was an invitation for him to kiss her again or because she knew she should say something like, Who the hell are you?

Before she could decide, his solid body was pressing against her, urging her to slide over into the corner of the booth.

And she did, which left her a little miffed and seriously bewildered.

The guy still standing at the end of the table sputtered. “I thought you weren’t looking for company.”

“She isn’t. She already has me.”

The guy frowned. Anger flared deep in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here with someone?”

Because she wasn’t. Although, she was coherent enough to realize it wouldn’t be smart to say that out loud right now. So, she simply offered a shrug and an apologetic half smile.

With a labored huff, the guy finally walked away, apparently realizing arguing with her wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Especially with the wall of masculinity sitting between them. The guy would have been mental to take on the man currently pressed against her body from shoulder to hip.

The heat of him seeped into her flesh. Maybe she should have changed clothes, put on longer shorts. The hem had ridden up her thigh at some point and she could feel the rub of his skin against hers, smooth to hair-roughened.

She found her voice enough to ask, “Who are you?” She kept the words pitched low so only he could hear them.

Draping an arm across the back of the booth, he squeezed in closer. A few seconds ago she would have thought that physically impossible. She was obviously wrong.

“Jack,” he said, dipping his head and brushing the single word across the sensitive shell of her ear.

“Nice to meet you,” she answered without thought or intent.

Pulling back, he smiled down at her. A shiver snaked through her stomach. Somehow he managed to fill his expression with kindness, sensuality and predatory promise. Apparently a deadly combination to her libido.

Loralei shifted in her seat. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, his entire ribcage lifting and sliding against her. “Rescuing you. I would have thought that was obvious.”

“Well, yes, but why?”

His smile changed, going a little dangerous around the edges. “Because I wanted to.”

Oh, this guy was trouble. Clearly. The kind of man who got whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

Too bad. Tonight he was going to be disappointed, because he couldn’t have her.

2

JACKSON WATCHED LORALEI LANCASTER’S eyes narrow. Part of him wanted to laugh. The rest wanted to pull her harder against his body.

From a distance she was beautiful. Up close...she was gorgeous. Even in the low bar light, her skin was luminous. Like sunlight filtering through the bright blue surface of the water in the last few moments of a great dive.

He had the same sensation sitting next to her that he’d felt when he’d finally narrowed down the Chimera’s location: reverence, triumph, pleasure.

He wasn’t supposed to feel anything but anger and a desire for retribution around her.

Reminding himself of his reason for coming in the bar after her tonight, Jackson tried to fight temptation. It didn’t help much since he could still feel her smooth, warm skin pressed against his thigh.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told him,” she began, tilting her head toward the guy who’d already moved on to his next target across the bar. “I’m not interested.”

“Hmm,” he purred low in his throat. Some imp inside urged him to prove the lie in her words. He’d felt her response to the kiss he’d given her. And if he was honest, he wanted to feel it again.

Dipping his head, he breathed deep, pulling the sweet vanilla scent of her into his lungs. And then he brushed his mouth across hers.

She gasped, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her entire body swayed toward him.

He couldn’t ignore the unexpected invitation. Even if he’d only meant to prove a point. Licking across her parted lips, he dipped inside. She tasted even sweeter than she smelled.

Moving his palm to the back of her neck, he cupped her head and brought her closer. A strangled sound vibrated from her throat.

Slowly, Jackson pulled away, relishing the glazed expression in her striking eyes.

“You sure about that?” he breathed into her ear.

She stared up at him, the far-away glimmer disappearing only to be replaced with a sharp glint that had the blood in his veins whooshing faster. Her mouth pulled into the hard curve of a frown. And Jackson braced for the backlash he knew was coming, even with his fingers still tangled in the soft strands of her hair.

Loralei reached for the glass sitting on the table in front of her. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was headed, but he did nothing to actually stop her. Would she go through with it?

Tipping the glass, she let the cold, half-melted contents slide out over his head.

Apparently, she would.

Her pale green eyes flashed with fire. Air gushed in and out of her lungs, forcing her breasts tight against the thin barrier of her shirt.

God, could she get any more beautiful?

Or treacherous?

That’s what he had to remember, though his body was begging him to give her another outlet for all that pent-up passion. He couldn’t trust her. Or anyone attached to Lancaster.

Jackson didn’t move, not even to wipe away the sunset-colored concoction sliding over his ears, into his collar and down the back of his neck.

He grinned at her, a cocky half smile that only made her growl long and low.

“Let me go.”

“Not until we discuss why you’re on this island, Loralei.”

She stilled, her entire body going taut with attention. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“So how do you know it?”

“I know a lot of things, including what you’re here to search for. Let me promise that you won’t find the Chimera. You can’t. Your dad didn’t manage to steal enough information to actually find the wreckage. You’re going to waste time and money, and my team will get there first.”

She blinked up at him, but it wasn’t a deer-in-the-headlights expression. Nope, she was thinking. The wheels in her brain moving at lightning speed. It was intoxicating to watch.

He’d always been drawn to intelligent women. He wanted more than a beautiful face and rocking body. He needed someone who could challenge him. Thrill him.

Which was why he stuck to inviting the uncomplicated ones to his bed. No fear of getting attached with them. Until recently, his life hadn’t been conducive to long-term anything. Hell, he’d barely been willing to sign more than a one-month lease. He never knew how long he’d be in any one place, especially when assignments could last months at a time.

Since joining the Navy at eighteen, the past year and a half had been one of the longest stretches he’d spent in one place. And he’d been too damn busy to think about anything aside from a quick release of tension.

If Loralei Lancaster hadn’t been part of the team that had stolen his research, both his body and brain definitely would be interested. So maybe it was better they were adversaries. He didn’t need any distractions right now.

“Trident,” was the first word she uttered.

“Brilliant deduction, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

Jackson shrugged.

“Which one of the assholes are you?”

“Assholes?” He took offense at that. Especially considering she was the one throwing the term around so blithely.

“Assholes, owners—same difference.”

Jackson laughed bitterly. “I hardly think so, princess. Ask your good friend Brian all about assholes. He came about thirty seconds away from blowing me and everyone else on your father’s team sky high eight months ago.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Suit yourself. Either way, you’re wasting your time here in paradise. Go back home to Chicago where you belong.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, Loralei glared at him. “If that was true you wouldn’t be bothering to tell me. You’d just laugh at me from the deck of your ship like the world-class prick you are. What do you have against me?”

“You personally? Nothing.” Yet. “But your dad and his crew? Plenty. They nearly got me killed, fired me and then stole from me.”

“They stole from you? According to Brian you’ve been stealing our clients for months.”

“It isn’t stealing, princess, if they want to leave. And I promise, taking them was so damn easy. I didn’t even have to undercut your price by very much. Most of the clients were more impressed with our professional, experienced and safety-conscious company.”

Her mouth worked for several moments, no doubt holding back the stream of words she wanted to fling at him. He had to give her credit for controlling her reaction.

“But let’s go back to the stealing issue. Where do you think your father got his research on the Chimera? I can promise you it wasn’t by spending every spare moment over the last decade tracking ocean currents, researching historical records and meticulously plotting out potential courses for the ship.”

Loralei shook her head. He could see the denial clouding her eyes. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying, not about her father.

He understood. There was a time in his life, long ago, when he hadn’t wanted to believe his own mother was capable of abandoning him without a second thought or glance back.

Sometimes reality wasn’t fun. That didn’t make it any less true. And everyone had to learn to deal with the dirty truth. He certainly had. Loralei would survive learning that her old man wasn’t who she thought he’d been.

Or she’d reveal that she was just like him.

Either way, he’d at least know where he stood with Lancaster Diving and could plan his next move accordingly.

“Leave,” she said finally, her lips barely moving on the low, menacing word.

Pushing slowly out of the booth, Jackson did as she’d asked. He watched her take a deep, calming breath as the space between them grew. He understood the instinct, felt the urge to clear her from his own lungs so that he could think again.

Instead, he stood at the end of her table and stared down at her.

“Think about what I said, Loralei. Your dad didn’t get all my research, so the chances are you won’t be looking in the right location. You’re wasting time and money. And if my information is correct, you can’t afford either right now.”

* * *

LORALEI WATCHED THE brute of a man walk away from her. Her mind spun drunkenly, as if she’d had several of those damn drinks instead of a few measly sips before wasting good alcohol to soak his head.

She assumed Jack was short for Jackson Duchane, one of the owners of Trident. Brian had told her something about each of them. If she’d been paying attention and not trying to drown her neuroses in alcohol she might have clued in to who he was before giving him the chance to humiliate her.

Just remembering the way her body had reacted to him sent a wave of embarrassment across her skin. Great. Just what she needed.

The things he’d said about her dad... They’d hurt.

Could they be true? She’d always thought of her father as a big, distant, honorable guy. On the few occasions he’d come inland and spent time with her, he’d always admonished her to be a good girl. A good person. Stay away from drugs. Don’t let boys pressure you into doing anything stupid. Follow the Ten Commandments. Listen to your grandparents.

What part of those rules allowed him to steal from Jackson Duchane and his partners?

None of them.

But she was old enough to realize parents sometimes said one thing and did another. She’d just never gotten that impression with her own father. Not that he’d been around enough for her to really know.

And that was the damn kicker.

She couldn’t look Jackson in the eye and call him a liar because she didn’t know.

Her gut told her it was possible. Lancaster Diving was in serious financial trouble. And, according to Brian, her dad had blamed Trident for that situation. If that was the case, would he have felt justified in bending the rules?

Possibly. Probably.

Damn it!

So, what the hell was she going to do? She’d put all of her eggs in this one basket. This salvage was her salvation. Their salvation. All the guys who’d spent their lives following her father around the world, taking jobs wherever they had to in order to make a living.

She couldn’t ask Brian if what Jackson said was true. He’d probably just lie to her.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be a lie.

If her father had stolen from them, why hadn’t Trident pressed charges?

Because they couldn’t prove it.

Sitting there alone in the booth, Loralei came to a stunning realization. The asshole was playing mind games. He knew they were after the same treasure, and he was trying to cut her off at the pass. Convince her to walk away before the fight had started.

What irked her even more was that he’d used his beautiful body, dangerous charm and sex appeal to do it. He hadn’t hesitated to crowd into her personal space, kiss the hell out of her and get her all flustered before dropping his verbal bomb.

Dirty, nasty fighting.

And she’d fallen for it.

But she wouldn’t again. Nope. Next time she’d be prepared for Jackson Duchane. Maybe she’d turn the tables, give him a dose of his own medicine.

She smiled gleefully. This was going to be fun.

More fun than she’d ever expected when she’d boarded the plane for a damn island.

* * *

JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH, what had she been thinking?

Loralei crept across the deck of Jackson Duchane’s ship. She hadn’t intended to board the ship when she’d come to the marina but...

Honestly, she had no idea what she’d intended. Opportunity had presented itself. She’d been watching the ship, trying to get a feel for Jackson’s setup and crew. One thing was for sure, his equipment was better than theirs.

Loralei tamped down a brief spurt of jealousy mixed with anger. Of course his equipment was better. He was taking all of their work and money.

As she’d loitered, the entire crew had left the ship. She wasn’t certain where they were going at twenty minutes before midnight, but she honestly didn’t care.

The ship was empty.

And it was a chance she couldn’t pass up.

So she was standing on Jackson’s ship, the deck rolling beneath her feet as she attempted to gain control of the panic welling up in her chest.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Loralei pulled her gaze from the water. Her legs were stiff, knees refusing to bend as she shuffled toward the doorway that led down into even more darkness.

But at least she was inside.

The ship was huge, much bigger than hers. Amphitrite had been painted along the side in bold, curling letters. The boat clearly had been named for the Greek goddess of the sea and wife of Poseidon. She was definitely more modern, though, with a high-tech bridge and sonar system.

Since Loralei didn’t know enough about either, she steered clear of both, creeping farther down the darkened hallway. She passed several closed doors, paused to open a few. They appeared to be sleeping berths. The last room opened to an office of sorts.

Papers were spread across a large table that was bolted to the floor. Moving forward, Loralei sifted through them. It took her several moments to realize they were maps of islands. Not Turks and Caicos, but possibly the smaller islands dotting the water around?

She flipped through several, unsure what she was looking at. For the first time, she wished she’d paid more attention when her dad had tried to teach her about some of this stuff. But considering her phobia, it had seemed a waste of time.

And Loralei hated wasting time.

The small room was too dark for her to make out the tiny lettering. And she didn’t want to risk turning on a light and catching someone’s attention.

Grabbing a handful, she moved toward the porthole cut high on the wall. Moonlight filtered through, giving her something to see by.

Holding the papers higher, she read the name of an inlet that she recognized. Her crew was heading there first thing in the morning. There was some speculation that the Chimera had sought shelter there before the storm hit. But, according to statements gathered from another ship that had been close, the ship’s anchors had snapped in the high winds and it had been dragged out to open sea.

Which made the inlet a good place to start.

Apparently, Jackson Duchane had the same intention.

Unease and guilt crept up Loralei’s spine. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be here. This felt wrong.

Dropping the papers back on the table, she tried to remember how they’d been arranged. Probably something she should have paid attention to before touching them. Dammit, she couldn’t even break and enter without screwing up something.

Above her, a sound rang through the ship.

Loralei instinctively dropped into a crouch.

Gripping the edge of a chair, she shook her head. Probably just some rigging clanging with the sway of the ship. No one was onboard. But her frantic heartbeat urged her to go. Deciding to listen, Loralei cracked open the door and slipped back into the dark hallway.

The doorway was three feet away when she heard the low murmur of a voice.

“No, having you and Knox here wouldn’t be helpful just yet. Let me and the crew handle the preliminary dives. We need you on the Prescott job right now, and someone has to stay at the office to run things.”

Loralei froze. Even the breath in her lungs stilled. A shadow drifted across a rectangle of light in the hallway a few feet away. Every muscle in her body tensed to fight or run, but the shadow passed. The low murmur of Jackson’s voice faded and her lungs released the breath she’d been holding in a shaky stream.

It would not look good for Jackson to find her here right now. Maybe she should have thought of that before creeping on board.