He didn’t want to need her...

Trouble just walked onto Knox McLemore’s ship—trouble with lush curves, red hair and an uptight attitude that both grates on his nerves and heats his blood. But former Navy SEAL Knox knows all about control. Especially when this sexy nautical archaeologist is the only thing standing between his diving team’s claim on a famous shipwreck...and utter ruin.

Dr. Avery Walsh is grateful her icy persona hides the effect intimidating (and way-too-hot) Knox has on her. For two people who don’t trust—or even like—each other much, the physical chemistry between them is unbelievable. But getting in too deep with Knox is the last thing Avery needs. Because she has a job to do...and dark little secrets to hide.

“You’re hiding something, Avery...”

“And, yet, you had no problem putting your mouth all over me last night.”

She felt Knox’s reaction to her words.

“I can separate business and pleasure. My question, Avery, is can you?”

Twisting out of his grasp, she scooted off the bed and turned to face him. He could read the hunger there.

“Yes,” she finally said, her voice breathy.

Knox wasn’t sure he believed her. But he also wasn’t sure it really mattered anymore.

His hands settled at her hips, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her cotton tank to find the soft skin of her belly beneath. He needed more.

And this time he had no intention of denying himself what he wanted most...her.

Dear Reader,

Everyone has secrets. Those pieces of our lives—and ourselves—we’d rather keep hidden. But generally when the truth finds the light of day—and it always does—the fallout isn’t as bad as we expect.

When someone truly loves us, they don’t see our flaws as earth-shattering and can often help us put our fears into perspective. Being vulnerable enough to share both the best and the worst of ourselves is the biggest step in any relationship.

As you can imagine, that moment doesn’t come quickly for Knox McLemore and Avery Walsh. Avery’s secret has the potential to destroy Knox’s business and upend her world. How can she tell him the truth without losing everything that matters to her—including him?

I hope you enjoy In Too Deep. Be sure to return in November for the last book in the SEALs of Fortune series, Under Pressure. I’d love to hear from you at kirasinclair.com, or come chat with me on Twitter, @KiraSinclair.

Best Wishes,

Kira

In Too Deep

Kira Sinclair

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KIRA SINCLAIR writes emotional, passionate contemporary romances. A double winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award, her first foray into writing fiction was for a high school English assignment. Nothing could dampen her enthusiasm...not even being forced to read the love story aloud to the class. Writing about sexy heroes and strong women has always excited her. She lives with her two beautiful daughters in North Alabama. Kira loves to hear from readers at kirasinclair.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

This book is dedicated to all of my CrossFit Protocol peeps. We sweat together, groan together and lament our sore muscles. But you guys make the worst—and best—hours of my week bearable. You’ve pushed me to find an inner core of strength I didn’t know I had, something I’ve really needed over the past year. You guys rock!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

1

“HERE COMES FUN,” Asher Reynolds taunted under his breath.

Knox McLemore fought the urge to wipe the crooked smirk off his business partner’s face. At the moment Asher was making it damn difficult to remember they were also friends.

“Trouble,” Knox countered. Clearly, the woman walking toward them was nothing but trouble.

From the deck of the Amphitrite, Trident’s diving ship, Knox squinted. He didn’t bother shielding his eyes from the glare of the Bahamian sun. It was a small nuisance compared to the major pain in his ass marching down the dock in their direction.

She paused, speaking with the two men toting her luggage—all six matching pieces of it. He couldn’t hear her words, but even from this distance, her no-nonsense expression had his spine snapping straight. Dammit all to hell.

He almost felt sorry for the men to whom she was currently giving detailed instructions.

Dr. Avery Walsh was dressed as if she thought the bustling pier was Wall Street—perfectly tailored cream pants with a knife-edge crease ironed into each leg, a jade silk top and a cream blazer that hugged the curves of her body and buttoned just below the swell of her breasts.

If she was trying to hide the assets God had given her, she was failing. The jacket’s button sparkled in the sun, some kind of stone that drew a man’s eye right there...and then automatically up.

She looked tall, but that was an entirely artificial impression considering the five-inch heels she wore. How the hell did she manage to walk across the uneven boards without catching one of those spindly spikes in a crack?

But she didn’t. In fact, she strode across the rough and splintered surface, staring straight ahead, with the kind of speed and purpose that drove Knox crazy.

“Come on, you’re exaggerating,” Asher said, a wicked grin stretching across his face and a delighted twinkle in his eyes. Bastard. “Avery isn’t that bad. Her reputation is spotless and no one could argue with her expertise.”

He might be right, but there was something about the woman that rubbed Knox the wrong way, and had from their first meeting several weeks ago.

It was her attitude...and the stick lodged firmly up her ass. Life was meant to be enjoyed, savored. He knew it was too damn fleeting—could be snuffed out at any moment. You had to take time to appreciate the little things while you could.

Like the gorgeous turquoise water of the Caribbean surrounding them. The sky so clear it felt as if you could reach up and touch God. And the salty, floral scent of the air filling his lungs.

They were in Nassau. Most people would kill to have the open water as their office. Would lap up the laid-back island vibe and embrace the slower pace.

But not Avery. Apparently, the doc didn’t know the definition of the word relaxed.

She’d come into that first meeting as a whirlwind of energy and information. Obviously, she’d done her homework on the Chimera, the Civil War ship Trident was claiming for salvage.

But Knox had picked up on an edge of desperation behind the wall of competence and confidence she used as protection. No one else on the team had seemed to notice.

Considering the scuffle he and the doc had gotten into in the parking lot outside the Trident offices in Jacksonville, everyone had ignored his concerns.

“There you go, spouting her credentials like you’ve memorized her résumé. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had a hard-on for her intellect.” Knox glared at his friend.

So Avery Walsh was one of the best nautical archaeologists in the business. That didn’t mean there wasn’t more going on.

“To hear you and Jackson talk, you’d think the woman walked on water instead of harvesting artifacts from beneath it.”

As far as he was concerned, Jackson and Asher were all blinded by hope, believing Avery was the answer to the major snag their salvage of the Chimera had hit.

Several months ago Jackson and Loralei Lancaster, reluctant owner of Lancaster Diving and now Jackson’s girlfriend, had discovered a Civil War ship that had sunk off the coast of Rum Cay over one hundred and fifty years ago. At the time, they’d thought the biggest obstacle to salvaging the Chimera—rumored to carry millions in Confederate gold—would be the instability of the ship and her final resting place at the edge of an underwater ravine.

Boy, had they all been wrong.

Since the wreckage sat in international waters, they’d petitioned the US government for exclusive salvage rights under constructive in rem jurisdiction. Jackson was handling the business side of things, trying to work through the red tape that accompanied claiming and salvaging a ship with the Chimera’s pedigree.

Knox, on the other hand, had been eager to take on the challenge of heading up the salvage once their permits were approved. Until it’d become clear that included dealing with Avery Walsh.

They’d all been blindsided when, several months into the process, Anderson McNair had made a claim that the ship they’d discovered wasn’t actually the Chimera, but another ship that he’d found first.

McNair, an American running his own diving company out of Turks and Caicos, had a reputation for cutting corners, destroying historically valuable artifacts if they had no monetary value and generally being a pirate.

Trident hadn’t dealt with him before now, but Knox had asked around and none of his contacts thought highly of the man. Unfortunately, not only did McNair have enough clout and charisma to pull Trident into a media war, the man had bent some Bahamian official’s ear and they were now putting pressure on the US court to pull Trident’s salvage permits.

None of them knew for sure what McNair’s endgame was, but they all assumed this was a play to claim the wreckage—and treasure—for his own.

Thanks to his charm and some fancy talking, Jackson had convinced all sides to let them hire an expert to authenticate the wreck. Trident was paying for Avery’s services, although both governments had retained refusal rights on their chosen expert. Luckily, McNair and the judge had agreed.

Now they were racing against the clock to prove the ship was the Chimera before they lost everything.

He didn’t dispute the fact that Dr. Walsh had a stellar résumé. However, that did little to allay his disquiet where she was concerned.

He’d be the first to admit that from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, his blood had been stirred. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot and she’d been pissed, her gorgeous blue eyes filled with fire even as her words had remained steady and clipped. He’d seen the passion she couldn’t hide and had wanted to channel it in other ways.

But it hadn’t been until they’d sat across a conference table from each other that the back of his neck had begun to tighten and tingle with wariness. She’d given all the right answers. Had appeared absolutely perfect. Too perfect.

He’d made no secret that he hadn’t wanted her for the job. But he, Jackson and Asher were equal partners—the three of them having served together in the SEALs before opening Trident—and he’d lost the vote.

“This is going to be damn entertaining.” Asher grinned, his gaze tracking Dr. Walsh as she climbed aboard the ship.

“Tell me this isn’t the only reason you’re here,” Knox grumbled. The woman hadn’t even set the pointy toes of her pumps on his deck yet and he was already in a foul mood.

“Of course it is, man. I wouldn’t miss the fireworks for anything.”

“Don’t you have another job to do?” Knox asked, irritation bubbling through him. This entire situation was going to be bad enough, he really didn’t relish having an audience...especially Asher who would delight in rubbing the tension in his face at every opportunity.

“Yeah,” Asher shrugged. “But I don’t have to leave for the Great Barrier Reef until next week.” Setting his back against the railing, Asher spread his arms wide and gave him a shit-eating grin that Knox wanted desperately to knock off his face.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to swap bloody noses right now. Even if going a few rounds of hand-to-hand with his friend might drastically improve his mood.

“Thought I’d come help you out for a few days.”

“You just didn’t want to be locked in the office alone with Kennedy.”

Asher pretended to shiver. “True. That woman could teach the Navy a thing or two about control and intimidation.”

Knox laughed. He never had any trouble with their office manager. But then, Kennedy actually liked him. He had no idea what Asher had done to her, but his friend had obviously ticked her off. Staff meetings were often an exercise in veiled barbs, which could be highly entertaining since they weren’t aimed at him.

“Gentlemen, if you’re done swapping barbs and figuratively smacking each other on the ass, perhaps we can get to work?”

The irritated voice scraped down Knox’s spine. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, even though he knew exactly who was going to be standing there.

She was just as gorgeously untouchable as Knox remembered. Every bright red hair on her head perfectly in place. Hell, the woman had even put on lip gloss. He didn’t want to notice how shiny, wet and utterly kissable it made her mouth, but he was human after all.

Knox took a deep breath, preparing for the battle he fully expected. He’d faced terrorists, bombs, men with machetes and machine guns. He’d been shot, stabbed and had various body parts nearly blown off in explosions.

It had been a long time since anything or anyone had unsettled him.

Avery Walsh scared the shit out of him.

“Welcome aboard, Firecracker,” Asher said.

Firecracker. It was the perfect nickname for the woman standing in front of them, and not simply because her hair was a deep, dark red, the sun popping bursts of copper off the mass pulled into a tight knot at the top of her head.

Knox didn’t want to admit, even to himself, just how much he wanted to reach up and pull every last pin out of the mass just to watch it tumble around her ivory face.

Avery Walsh struck him as the kind of woman who was wound so damn tight that at the first sign of friction she could simply spark up and ignite—and not necessarily in the good way.

He much preferred women who knew how to roll with the punches and wouldn’t hesitate to explore a good time. The kind who were up for any adventure as long as it had fun written all over it. Something told him Avery wouldn’t know fun if it bit her on the ass, and was more likely to maintain the ice-queen persona than explode with lust.

Which was a crying shame.

Asher let his gaze travel up and down Avery’s body in an open invitation that the man didn’t even realize he was making half the time. It usually had women melting into puddles at his feet.

Reinforcing Knox’s impression, Avery simply stared at Asher, her mouth thinning into a tight line before she completely dismissed him. “Mr. McLemore, I understand you’re in charge of the Amphitrite.”

Knox leaned back against the railing crossing his ankles. “I sure am, doc,” he drawled.

“Avery.” Her icy eyes snapped with annoyance. They were gorgeous and clear, unbelievably pale, which only added to the impression that she could cut you with nothing but a laser glance.

These next couple of weeks were going to be brilliant.

“Remind me to murder Jackson the next time I see him,” Knox muttered at Asher out of the side of his mouth.

“Loralei might have an objection.”

A few months ago, Jackson and Loralei had been at odds, racing to see who could find the Chimera first. It turned out they’d both won. Not just finding the ship, but each other as well.

Shaking his head, Knox pushed away from the railing, sauntering closer to the good doctor.

The self-indulgent part of him wanted to set her off-kilter. To ruffle her feathers just to prove he could. But even as he crowded close, towering above her despite the heels, Avery simply stood her ground.

Knox was the guy the SEALs had called on to crack the most difficult men, to interrogate and terrify. On the surface he might seem laid-back and unconcerned, but he’d broken some of the most stubborn and highly trained enemy operatives in the business without resorting to tactics that skirted legalities.

Dr. Walsh didn’t even flinch as he came within an inch of brushing against her body. She kept her eyes trained completely on his, her face perfectly blank as she stared up at him.

“Let me know when we’re finished with the pissing contest,” she said, her voice smoky and even.

All right. Apparently they weren’t going to dance around this thing. “I don’t want you here, Doctor.”

“Avery. And you made your position abundantly clear during my interview, Mr. McLemore. But here I am.”

A smile bloomed across her face. What did she have to smile about? They were locked in a battle of wills, one he was beginning to worry he might actually lose.

But even as that thought flashed across his brain, her damn smile distracted him. It changed everything, taking her from remote and untouchable to downright breathtaking. It didn’t just brighten her face, the twinkle in her eye revealed the first insight he’d gotten into how she ticked.

She was enjoying this, even if she’d never admit it. Getting off on the tension and antagonism between them.

Interesting.

“Just so we’re both clear on where we stand,” he said.

The corners of her lips lifted higher. “I know exactly where I’m standing—on the deck of your ship. So I guess I win.”

Knox couldn’t stop his own lips from twitching. “For now.”

It bothered him, her flat-out determination to be a part of this project, even in the face of his obvious lack of enthusiasm. That only made more warning bells clang deep inside his brain.

Why had she pushed so hard to be involved, to the point of contacting Jackson several times even after meeting with the Trident team? Was it simply ego and a drive for another line on her résumé, or was there something more behind her eagerness?

His instincts told him it was the latter, he just couldn’t prove it. Yet.

Cocking her head, she said, “In a few hours we’ll be in the middle of the Caribbean. I don’t think you can change the status quo by then, especially considering you lost that fight the first time around, but feel free to try.”

* * *

INSIDE, AVERY WAS a quaking mess. She was bluffing, but then most of her life had been a bluff.

The problem was, this time someone was waiting to call her on it.

Anderson McNair had her trapped and there was nothing she could do about it.

Almost six weeks ago he’d walked into her office and informed her that he knew her little secret and if she wanted it to stay just between the two of them she was going to help him. Remembering that day made her stomach churn with anxiety and guilt.

Anxiety and guilt she’d been fighting for years.

It didn’t help that Knox McLemore intimidated the hell out of her. Not to mention that he could set her body on fire with nothing more than a scorching gaze.

From the moment he’d nearly run her over with his shiny black speed demon of a car—in the Trident Diving parking lot, no less—she’d wanted to hate him. But she’d needed to win the job more, and not simply because working on the Chimera was the kind of project she lived for.

If she failed and they hired someone else, Anderson McNair would ruin her reputation and sink her business.

Part of her had hoped Trident would award the project to someone else. Then the years of wondering and worrying would have been over.

But her life wasn’t the only one poised to be ruined. Her sister, innocent in the entire situation, would suffer as well. And Avery couldn’t stomach that.

McNair expected her to sabotage the assignment...to torpedo her integrity and announce that the wreckage wasn’t the Chimera, no matter what the evidence proved.

Her only hope was that Jackson Duchane was wrong and the ship they were heading toward really wasn’t the Chimera.

Best-case scenario—but her life never worked that way.

Avery couldn’t worry about that right now, though. She needed to concentrate on getting through the next five minutes without Knox McLemore realizing how vulnerable to him she really was.

A feral smile crossed his face. “Let’s get one thing clear, doc.”

She hated that word. And not simply because Knox seemed to delight in shortening her professional title. That got under her skin plenty, but she preferred no one use it...because she hadn’t actually earned the damn thing.

“You’re on my ship. I make the rules.”

Knox studied her with a slow, lazy perusal that had lightning shooting beneath her skin. She’d already been sweltering under the pounding tropical sun, but suddenly sweat slicked every pulse point on her body.

She wanted to reach up, unbutton her blazer and sling it off. The only thing that stopped her was knowing the layer of linen was all that kept her tight nipples from Knox McLemore’s sharp gaze.

McLemore was the kind of man she stayed far away from—mellow, confident, purposely provocative. Because despite the persona she’d developed for business, inside she was still the shy, quiet girl who’d spent years moving from place to place and never quite fitting in anywhere.

Just standing in front of him left her edgy. She wanted to take a step back, but her feet were frozen in place.

She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes from Knox’s faded, ripped jeans and the T-shirt clinging to his powerful muscles. His dark brown hair was too damn long, flopping into his eyes in a way that both frustrated and enticed her.

She wanted to take a pair of scissors to it at the same time her fingers itched to pull it back so she could see his eyes. When it was in the way, it was difficult to know what he was thinking. Something that made her even more nervous.

Her skin itched. Her body throbbed. He was in her personal space and she wanted to break the connection, but her limbs simply wouldn’t respond.

Asher cleared his throat, finally breaking the spell. Relief rushed in when he said, “Why don’t I show you to your quarters, Firecracker?”

Avery graced him with a tight, grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

She was hot, tired and sticky. Getting out of her travel-stained clothes sounded like heaven.

She turned to follow Asher, but unfortunately Knox kept pace behind them. She could feel the heat of his hot caramel eyes sweeping up her back.

“You know these allegations are bullshit,” Knox said from behind her.

This was even ground, arguing with him about the job. “No, I don’t know that, Mr. McLemore. And I’m fairly certain you don’t either. There’s enough doubt that the judge was ready to rule against your request for diving rights.”

“And enough evidence that they agreed to wait for further verification,” he said, each word lazy and sure. She didn’t know which she hated worse, when he was intentionally antagonistic or when he seemed smugly certain her presence here was a waste of everyone’s time.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. She’d read the research presented by the Trident team. She’d followed the detailed information on just how Jackson Duchane and Loralei Lancaster had come to find the wreckage. She had to admit their case was strong, but whatever evidence McNair had provided was enough to cast doubt...not that she necessarily thought it valid.

But Knox didn’t need to know that.

“She’s the Chimera, doc.”

Avery gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to correct Knox again about the damn nickname. He was doing it on purpose now, which drove her insane. But she wasn’t willing to play his game.

“That’s what I’m here to find out, Knox.” In the cramped hallway, she stopped, turning to face him. Better to deal with this now than later. “This whole process will go much smoother if you get out of my way and let me do my job. We both want the same outcome.”

Knox reached out, as if he was going to touch her arm, but stopped just short of actually doing it. They both stared at his fingers just hanging there in the empty space between them.

“I’m not entirely certain that’s true.”

She tried not to let his distrust panic her. “Why do you say that?”

Knox pressed closer, invading her personal space without actually touching her. The pressure of anxiety and awareness weighed on her chest, making it difficult to pull in a full breath while she waited for his answer.

Only he never gave her one. Instead, his lips pulled up into a smile that wasn’t real.

“I’ll have your bags sent down, doc.”

2

SEVERAL HOURS LATER they were finally underway, heading for the open sea. Later than Knox had wanted because of a few logistical snags...including hauling all six of Dr. Walsh’s suitcases onto the ship.

Had the woman packed her entire wardrobe? What did she expect to need on a ship in the middle of the Caribbean?

He’d thought about opening every one of her bags and rifling through—with the intent to toss any heels, pearls or matching pantsuits he found along the way—but had decided his blood pressure probably couldn’t take the exercise.

Besides, he’d figured his time would be better spent looking for something that would tell him what she was hiding. Although, he didn’t do that either.

Avery had disappeared into the cabin she’d been assigned, which she had to herself despite their already cramped quarters since the only other woman on the ship, their cook, had quarters right off the galley. So far, she hadn’t resurfaced. Not even for dinner or to meet the crew.

They were all going to be working together for the next few weeks. The least she could have done was introduce herself and pass around a smile.

Trident had been open for a little over two years, but even though they were a relatively new business, and quite a few of the crew had only recently been hired on, they were a tight-knit group.

Maybe it was a legacy from their time in the Teams, but Asher, Jackson and Knox had worked hard at building camaraderie and a sense of family with their employees. As soldiers, they’d depended on each other for their lives. While they no longer worked with bullets flying, you had to trust that the guy beside you knew what he was doing and could competently and quickly complete his job, freeing you up to do the same.

They worked hard, and they played hard. When jobs required 24/7 commitment and living in tight quarters, it was sometimes just as important to blow off steam together.

Rather than wallow in irritation, Knox had come up on deck to try and calm down. The quiet shush against the hull as the Amphitrite cut through the water would normally have been enough to accomplish that. But not tonight. What he really needed was a spin behind the wheel of his Shelby, but that wasn’t in the cards.

Tonight he was restless, the first time he’d felt that way since leaving the Teams. Somehow, after living through more life-and-death situations than he cared to count, not even the stress of owning his own business made him uneasy.

There was something about this whole adventure, though, that didn’t sit right with him. Not just having Avery aboard. But the allegations McNair was making.

In his gut, Knox knew this was an attempt to grab their work. This had to be McNair’s play to claim the wreckage and treasure for himself. When Trident had announced that the Chimera had been found, there was a frenzy of interest, rumors of gold heading for the Confederate States a huge media draw.

They’d already been approached by a documentary crew from a major science channel interested in recording the process of salvaging and preserving the wreckage. Kennedy was currently working to get the details for that project in place.

McNair was simply one of the sharks that had swum out of the depths.

But unlike the others, he was causing serious problems.

Knox wasn’t going to let McNair’s claims derail their plans for the Chimera. And, unfortunately, Avery Walsh was a major part of solving the issues plaguing them. So he needed to take Asher’s advice—bite his tongue around the maddening woman and let her do her job.

While keeping a sharp eye on everything she did.

The sooner she completed her task, the sooner she could be off his ship. And the sooner they could get back to business as usual. He could return to the uncomplicated existence he’d enjoyed for the past two years.

That was what he wanted.

Uncomplicated. Unhurried. A life doing what he’d come to love—spending his time in warm, tropical waters—with two of his best friends.

After the turmoil of the past sixteen years, he deserved a break.

Knox stared out across the vast expanse of open water. It was calm, smooth this far from any shore. It always managed to make him feel small and insignificant. For some people that might be frightening, but for Knox it was reassuring. Knowing that he was one teeny, tiny piece in a gigantic whole helped to take some of the pressure away. Not everything was his fault or responsibility.

Sometimes that lesson was difficult to remember.

As he usually did whenever the stars winked on for the first time at night and he happened to be in a position to see them, he looked up. Picking one out, he closed his eyes and murmured a few words to his big brother. About his life, his day—good and bad.

He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t hear anyone approach until a soft voice murmured beside him.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Jerking his gaze down, Knox stared for several seconds at Avery.

She wasn’t close. There was at least three feet of railing between them. Although it didn’t matter. His body reacted as if she’d whispered those words straight into his ear, as if the warmth of her breath had tickled across his skin.

Knox tamped down his reaction, controlling it as he’d learned to ruthlessly control everything else. Desire, just like pain, could be ignored.

And he had every intention of ignoring any reaction Dr. Walsh stirred within him.

At some point she’d changed clothes, probably into what she considered casual wear. Sure, she was in shorts, but they were linen and looked damned expensive. She’d paired them with a gauzy top in fading shades of blue and fussy sandals with straps that crisscrossed up her calves. And the damn pearls—although this strand was longer than the ones earlier, and swayed between her breasts.

She’d pulled her flame-red hair up into some kind of bun thing at the back of her head that managed to look both sophisticated and complicated. Not to mention tight enough to give her a headache. Knox just wanted to mess it up.

For the briefest moment, he contemplated whether or not to tell her a few strands had escaped the tight confines and were curling to trail down her neck and face. He decided not to, mostly because he knew she’d immediately try to tame them back.

As far as he was concerned, those wisps of red were the best thing about her outfit.

“What?” he finally asked when he realized he’d been staring at her a little too long.

“The stars, they’re gorgeous. It’s one of the best things about being on the open water. So bright. No matter where my family was, or how foreign our home felt, the stars were always the same. I could look up into the sky, and even from our first night in a new city or village, I’d feel centered.”

Her statement struck him as sad, wistful in a way that tugged at him. And curious.

“You moved a lot?”

She laughed, the sound soft and uneasy. “Every few months. My dad was an archaeologist but my parents liked having the family together, no matter how remote the location.”

Shifting her hips against the railing, Avery rested her weight there. She stared out across the quiet water.

Knox didn’t quite know what to do with this contemplative version of the woman he’d met. So he stayed silent and simply listened.

“My sister and I were homeschooled. My parents wanted the world to be our classroom, and I have to admit there were things about the experience I wouldn’t trade. But for someone who tended toward shyness, it became very difficult to dredge up the energy to make friends in each new place.”

Knox studied her, wary instincts clanging a warning deep inside his head. What was her angle? Was she playing him? Doling out information he hadn’t asked for in the hopes of tugging on his heartstrings—assuming he had any, of course?

Like any good intelligence officer, he let her continue in the hopes of discovering the answer to some or all of those questions.

“My sister and I would often wish on the first star of the night. But I suppose that would be too foolish for a big, bad Navy SEAL, huh?”

“Doc, I think you’ve got the wrong impression of me. There have been plenty of times in my life I would have prayed to wood nymphs, Aztec gods or, hell, Martians, if it meant saving lives. I believe in my training. I respect the brothers who fought beside me. And I’m wise enough to realize there are forces at work outside our control every single day. I value life and understand what’s important—people, not things.”

Her pale blue eyes jerked to his. “Interesting.”

“What?”

She shrugged. “Just not what I expected.”

Knox felt his lips curve down into a frown.

Slowly she cleared her throat, turning and folding her arms over the railing so she could stare down at the water churning beneath them. “Look, I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Maybe?” There was no question they’d gotten off on the wrong foot.

“Hey, you’re the one who almost ran me over with that little car.”

“Doc, that wasn’t just any car. And she might be small, but she’s damn powerful.”

“And fast.”

Knox grinned. “And fast.”

He mirrored her position, sliding closer and folding his own arms over the railing.

“What’s so special about the car...aside from the fact that it came inches away from wearing me as a hood ornament?”

He could have rattled off a bunch of statistics, talked about the car’s racing history. Instead, Knox found himself saying, “First of all, like I told you that day, I was in complete control the entire time. You were never in any danger.”

“Excuse me if I don’t trust your judgment on that.”

Knox’s lips flashed up into a self-deprecating grin, the kind that acknowledged her statement and then immediately dismissed it. Because she was absolutely wrong. However, he was intelligent enough to realize that having this argument again wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere.

“But, more importantly, it’s my brother’s.”

Which wasn’t true since Kyle had never owned it, but Knox always thought of the car as his. It should have been his.

Kyle had talked about that car incessantly. Had put posters of the Shelby on his wall. Together, the two of them had planned to fix one up. His brother had even started saving.

Since Kyle hadn’t been able to follow through on the dream, in his spare time Knox had done it for him. It had been a labor of love, and of atonement. It was the least he could do since Kyle’s death had been his fault. That car was Knox’s single most prized possession.

The familiar guilt snaked through his chest, tightening everything to the point that he couldn’t breathe. It was a battle he’d fought for the past sixteen years. A battle that never seemed to get easier.

It didn’t matter that no one else blamed him for the accident that had killed his brother, his brother’s girlfriend and his best friend. He blamed himself and always would.

He should have done more. Not swerved to miss the deer that had jumped out onto the dark country road late that night. He should have been able to recover from the skid the car went into. Should have prevented the car from slamming into the guardrail at sixty miles an hour.

Everyone told him it was a miracle he’d walked away from the crash. And they weren’t wrong. He’d had several broken bones, a concussion and various cuts and bruises.

Bethany had died on impact. Chase minutes later on the side of the road. Kyle...he’d survived for several hours.

Knox would never forget standing beside his brother, watching EMTs try to save his life. The most helpless Knox had ever been. A sensation he never wanted to experience again.

“Your brother needs better taste in cars.”

Pushing away from the railing, Knox let his gaze sweep across Avery. “My brother’s dead,” he said, his words blunt and infused with every drop of remembered pain, even if he hadn’t meant to unleash it on her.

Avery’s pale eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.

He should feel...something for pulling that kind of reaction. Satisfaction, at least. It was what he’d been going for with the stark statement.

Instead, he simply wanted away—from her and the unpleasant memories she’d unwittingly called up.

Turning, he walked in the opposite direction, leaving her with the pod of dolphins that had decided to ghost through the water with the ship.

* * *

KNOX’S WORDS RANG through her head. Okay, more like clanged. But how was she to know his brother was dead? Or that her question could cause that haunted, hunted look in his eyes?

She felt like crap, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Apologize, but she’d really done nothing wrong. And something told her saying anything else would make the situation worse. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it.

She’d seen Knox standing at the railing looking up at the stars and had wanted to get things on track. She really needed Knox to...if not like her then at least leave her alone enough to do her job. Or not do her job.

At the thought, a heavy pit settled into her stomach. It made her sick. Instead of making things better, somehow she’d managed to irritate him more.

It was clearly time to regroup.

Avery headed back to her cabin. She’d been surprised to be assigned her own considering the lack of space, but it would make things easier. She was exhausted from traveling and her body was starting to crash from the ups and downs of the day.

She forced herself to unpack—the cases with her supplies and equipment had already been unloaded—putting all of her clothes away before beginning her nightly ritual. There was something about getting her space in order that always soothed her.

Maybe it was from all the years living out of suitcases. Or a holdover from trying to find a sense of security when the only thing she’d been able to control was her immediate environment.

Her father’s work had taken them to some amazing places—Africa, Egypt, Thailand, South America, Australia. She’d experienced different cultures. Could understand five languages, though she wasn’t fluent in all of them.

She now owned a house in Texas, but she spent more time away from it—consulting, working, giving speeches or preparing papers, occasionally teaching—than there. While she liked it well enough and always enjoyed going back, she wasn’t tied to home the way most people were.

Her routine grounded her, though. No matter where she laid her head, it was always the same. Brushing her teeth, taking off her makeup, preparing her clothes for the morning...

She could barely keep her eyes open by the time she switched off her light and crawled beneath the blanket. Tonight she didn’t even bother cracking open the book she’d brought with her. Instead, she was asleep within minutes.

And awake again two hours later when a loud noise startled her.

Avery jackknifed straight up in bed, her body responding before her brain had fully kicked in. With bleary eyes, she glanced around, trying to figure out where she was and what had woken her. It only took a few seconds to realize the disturbance had come from outside her room. On the Amphitrite.

Loud music. Laughter. Someone yelling.

And, there it was, the thump of some idiot slamming into the wall in the hallway outside her door.

Throwing a silk robe on over the cotton shorts and tank top she normally wore to bed, Avery yanked open her door just as another down the hall slammed shut. At least the drunken fool had made it to his bed.

But the noise. In the hallway it was so loud, the ship practically vibrated to the thump of the music.

She’d never get back to sleep.

With a huff, Avery tightened the knot on her robe and headed toward the commotion. A door down the hall stood wide-open. Inside it appeared the entire crew had congregated.

The space wasn’t huge. The ship was a working vessel, so most areas onboard were needed for their mission. It was clear this room served multiple purposes. The crew had eaten their dinner there earlier in the day. Now everyone was scattered about—lounging in chairs, sitting on top of tables, playing poker, drinking beer, listening to music.

Someone, she’d guess Catherine, their cook, had put out several bowls of munchies and a few dips.

Everyone’s faces were bright with happiness and laughter. She stood on the edge of the group and for a minute jealousy twisted her gut. She’d never had this, not even at college.

Especially not at college. She’d been too young and shy to really fit in with the other undergrads. Graduating high school early, she’d started college at sixteen.

By the time she’d reached grad school, she was so focused on her goals and burned-out that trying to fit in had seemed like a lost cause. She’d simply drawn into herself and set her sights on completing her program as soon as possible.

She had a few close friends now, but they were people like her. Quiet, professional, contained. When she was in Galveston, they’d get together for dinner, wine and some conversation. Nothing like this.

Avery’s gaze swept across the sea of people, most wearing shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops. There was nothing about this group that said contained.

They looked like they were relaxed. Enjoying themselves. A bright spurt of envy bloomed inside her chest.

Shaking off the unproductive reaction, Avery reminded herself why she’d ventured out. Scanning the crowd, she tried to find Asher. Maybe he’d be willing to tone down the party so she could sleep. He’d seemed like a nice enough guy the couple times they’d met.

But instead of finding him, her gaze locked with Knox’s. From across the room she felt the unexpected zing. Once she saw him, she couldn’t seem to look away, even though her brain was screaming at her to.

Pushing away from the table he’d been leaning against, Knox set his bottle on the scratched surface. Then he was striding across the room toward her. He didn’t have to say anything, the people between them simply moved out of his way.

“Welcome to the party. Have to say I’m surprised you joined us.” His dark eyes studied her. “In your silk robe.”

Avery fought the urge to grab the lapels and pull them tighter over her chest.

Luckily, his words jump-started her brain and reminded her exactly why she was there.

“Would you mind turning down the music? I’m trying to sleep and it’s very loud.”

“Sorry, doc. I promised the crew a party tonight since we’re going to be pulling twelve-and fourteen-hour days once we get to the site.”

The party. The music. The nickname. Having this man stare down at her out of those smooth brown eyes, delicious and warm...it was wreaking havoc with her brain. Why did she always have the impression Knox was judging her?

And why did it bother her so much that she was afraid he didn’t like what he saw?

Frustration piled up, making her response more explosive than she’d meant. “For the love of all that is good and holy, stop calling me that.”

Knox considered her. His head tilted to the side and the tip of his tongue snuck out, slowly sweeping across the firm edge of his lower lip.

Avery’s stomach rolled and heat leaked into her veins, spreading unwanted desire like poison through her system. She should have stayed in bed.

She shifted on her feet, ready to turn away and admit defeat. Maybe she’d just put her earbuds in and hope for the best.

But Knox snagged her arm before she could move two steps. His fingers wrapped around her bicep, sliding against the silk covering her skin. “Ever heard the phrase, ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em’?”

A low groan rumbled through her chest. Avery’s eyes slid shut as she asked for strength in dealing with the man. “Never mind.”

Knox shrugged, that damn grin twisting his lips even as his eyes began to twinkle.

Without asking he reached into a cooler and came up with a beer bottle. Water and ice slid down the smooth glass. Knox didn’t seem to care that it left a puddle on the floor at his feet.

He cupped his palm around her hand and sent a flame of awareness shooting up her arm. Slapping the bottle against her palm, he curled her fingers around the ice-cold surface. “You look like you could use this. If nothing else, it might help you sleep.”

Avery blinked at him, speechless.

Her brain, the thing that had faithfully served her for years, revolted. So her body took over, raising the bottle to her lips and pulling in a huge swallow. She didn’t particularly like beer, preferring cosmos and wine. Tonight, she didn’t even taste the liquid pouring down her throat.

Asher sauntered up to the two of them. Where the hell had he been a minute ago when she’d needed him?

He grinned at her, his eyes flashing mischief and mayhem. Whatever he’d sauntered over for couldn’t be good.

“Interesting wardrobe choice, Firecracker.”

Asher wasn’t the first person to give her that nickname. Her bright hair made it an obvious choice. Why couldn’t Knox have latched onto it instead of doc?

“Her beauty sleep was disturbed,” Knox said, his tone ripe with laugher. “Although I have to admit I like the robe better than the pearls, heels and business suit.”

Avery’s shoulders straightened and she wished she’d thrown on a pair of those heels so she could look him in the eye when she glared at him.

Being five foot four was often a hindrance, especially in the male-dominated field of nautical archaeology.

When she’d first started her career she’d wanted to eliminate at least one disadvantage when dealing with older male colleagues who tended to dismiss a young female out of hand. Heels and professional clothing had been her solution. And, over the years, had sort of become her signature. In her mind, projecting a competent, conservative image could never be a bad thing.

But apparently Knox McLemore didn’t see it that way.

“Hmm,” Asher murmured, taking a pull on his own beer. His gaze drifted down, lingering at the V where her robe closed. There wasn’t any heat in the perusal—it was more like it was a habit. “You do realize that just makes me want to find out what you’ve got on underneath, right?”

“Stop sexually harassing our employees, Ash. We’re going to end up with a lawsuit.” Knox frowned, his lips pulled into a tight, thin line.

A little-boy grin curled across Asher’s lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Avery realized Asher wasn’t playing with her, he was intentionally riling up Knox. Which was fine with her. The man deserved some of his own back.

Drawing another sip from her beer, Avery casually mentioned, “Technically, I’m not your employee.”

The corners of Asher’s eyes tipped up a little higher and his smile went to megawatt. “Does that mean I’m free to sexually harass you?”

Avery opened her mouth, but Knox beat her to it. “No, no you are not.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” she answered.

Asher chuckled, clinking the neck of his bottle against the one she still held in her hand. Then he winked and sauntered away. Avery watched him, not with lust, but fascination. She’d never had that kind of confidence.

“Stop staring, doc. Trust me, you don’t want to go there.”

“I didn’t...I don’t...” she sputtered, finally slamming her mouth shut.

Wrapping a hand around her arm, Knox led her through the room to the table he’d been propped against when she walked in. He settled his hips back against the edge. She did the same.

“Stay. Mingle. Have a beer. You’re going to be part of the team for the next couple weeks, Avery. It’s probably a good idea that you get to know the crew.”

The way he said her name, his low, smooth voice caressing each syllable, sent a jolt of something twisting through her. Was it the first time he’d actually used her name? She thought maybe it was.

She liked it a hell of a lot better than doc.

“I don’t need to braid hair, have a pillow fight or sneak beer from my parents’ fridge in order to bond with your team, Knox. I’d hope your crew is professional enough to do the same. No one has to like me in order to do their job.”

“No, you’re right. No one has to like you. It would make things easier, though. On everyone.”

They sat there, the weight of their silence, in contrast to the laughter and music surrounding them, pressing in on her until she had to say something.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be a part of the team. I’m not very good at bonding with colleagues.”

She should have felt anxious about making the confession. But there was something about Knox—while he usually made every muscle in her body tighten with tension, at the moment he’d somehow managed to put her at ease.

“That sounds...depressing.”

They sat there for several minutes. Avery watched as the people around them laughed. Why couldn’t she be that way? Why couldn’t she feel comfortable socializing like this?

Out of nowhere, Knox reached out and snagged a strand of her hair, running it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger. “Something tells me you worry too much. I like your hair down.”

The unconnected thoughts had her brain spinning. Or maybe that was the beer.

His hand continued down, the backs of his fingers brushing against the edge of her robe.

“Ash isn’t wrong. I’m dying to know what you’ve got on under this thing. Want to hear my guess?”

Avery swallowed. She did and she didn’t. She could take Asher flirting with her because she wasn’t attracted to him despite his charm and good looks.

But she didn’t think she could take Knox messing with her. Already she could feel the tide of blood rushing to the spot where his finger had brushed against her skin.

Somehow she found the strength to shake her head. Unfortunately, for some reason, the word, “Yes,” tumbled out of her parted lips at the same time.

Something mischievous flashed through his dark eyes, joining the dangerous grin that tugged at his wicked mouth.

“Well, judging by the rest of your clothes, something silky. Lots of lace. Probably in some soft color like pink or baby blue.”

Her voice was breathy, but not nearly as shaky as it could have been, when she responded, “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m wearing cotton shorts and a Texas International University tank top.”

His grin widened. “Now why would you think that would disappoint me? Actually, I like the idea of that a hell of a lot better than the lingerie.”

He leaned closer, his lips near enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His scent welled up around her, a combination of musk and salt and man.

His low, quiet voice rumbled in her ear, “Gives me hope that deep down, beneath that perfectly polished surface you prefer to show the world, there’s a real woman.”

Breath caught in the back of her throat. Heat and longing flooded her system. Her fist tightened around the bottle in her hand, needing something to hold on to so that she wouldn’t reach for him.

And then he had to go and ruin the moment.

Knox murmured, “Sleep tight, doc,” before walking away, leaving her alone, breathless and seriously turned on.

Bastard.

3

“YOU KNOW WE can’t trust her, right?”

Up on deck, the early-morning air seeped beneath his thin T-shirt, making goose bumps pearl across his skin. The sun, rising low in the sky, flowed off the smooth surface of the water surrounding them. It was funny how mornings like this could remind him of similar moments he’d spent in the desert, the light glaring off sand instead.

Knox, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, shot Asher a sharp glare. “Pretty sure I said that weeks ago, right after we interviewed her.”

Leaning against the railing, Asher raised a single eyebrow. “Yeah, but you said it because you have a problem with her. I’m saying it because something about this whole thing stinks.”

“Oh, you mean like McNair slithering out from whatever rock he lives under to claim the wreck isn’t really the Chimera?”

“He wants the gold. And apparently he’s got enough connections to make a play. I don’t trust McNair.”

No joke. The man was slick and charming. The kind of perfect that made you think the veneer could crack at any moment to reveal the truth underneath.

“Avery and McNair are connected.”

“So you noticed the inordinate amount of glee McNair was woefully inept at covering when we announced she’d been hired?”

“Oh, yeah. And the way, after weeks of delays, the Bahamian government agreed to the US court’s decision, letting the paperwork sail through the minute Dr. Walsh signed on to the project.”

Knox had put two and two together, coming to an answer he didn’t like. For multiple reasons. He’d called in several favors, but none of his contacts had been able to find a concrete connection between McNair and Avery. It was there, though. He just knew it.

The whole situation left him uneasy. As if he was walking into hostile territory with no idea which direction the bullets might fly from.

Something about Avery worked under his skin, itching and irritating until he wanted to pick at it. Pick at her. Annoying her could quickly become his favorite hobby out here on the open sea with nothing else to occupy his time and mind.

It was either that or crowd her against the closest hard surface and kiss the fire out of her. Something he’d nearly done last night.

That damn robe she’d been wearing was designed to entice a man. The way it had brushed against the tops of her bare thighs, clung to the curves of her breasts...and the fact that she hadn’t put it on for that reason only made the appeal more difficult to ignore.

He’d had a hard time reconciling the vision of the woman who’d shared a beer with him and the professional, put-together executive type who had walked on to his ship hours earlier.

Avery was competent, intelligent and good at her job. But last night he’d realized she was also more complex than he’d thought and surprisingly introverted.

He was still struggling with that revelation. Considering their first encounter had involved her yelling at him for his stupidity, he would have expected that to be the last adjective he’d ever use to describe her. There’d been nothing shy about her that afternoon.

And while he’d been attracted to the cool, collected Avery, something about the small chink of vulnerability she’d revealed last night made her even more appealing.

It had been difficult walking away from her.

Knox was blaming his reaction on the three beers he’d indulged in before she arrived. Although he hadn’t even had a decent buzz going.

From his vantage point across the room, he’d watched her walk out, the roll of her hips a metronome begging him to pursue. But he’d forced himself to stay put and enjoy the party with his crew.

Asher leaned against the railing, pulling Knox back into the conversation. Hell, the woman wasn’t even here and she was distracting him. This wasn’t good.

“All I’m saying is you should drag out those rusty surveillance skills to keep an eye on her. Or, hell, that charm you’re famous for. I’ve noticed it’s been decidedly AWOL since Dr. Walsh arrived.”

“There’s nothing rusty about my skills,” Knox said, popping Asher in the shoulder.

“Keep her close.” The twinkle in Asher’s eyes and his lifted brow clearly suggesting just how he thought Knox should accomplish that objective.

* * *

“WE’RE JUST RUNNING sonar to ensure the wreck hasn’t shifted since the last time we were down. Given what happened to Jackson the first time he entered the Chimera—”

“If she is the Chimera,” Avery interjected. Knox ignored her, although the way his eyes narrowed at the edges suggested her statement had registered.

“—there’s really no reason for you to come with me.”

He had to be joking. There was no way she was letting him close to that wreck without her. Who knew what the cowboy might decide to do if she wasn’t there to rein him in? He said he had no intention of going down, but once he was on that boat away from the ship, she had no guarantee.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Suit yourself, doc.”

Avery refused to rise to the bait. He was doing it on purpose, but she was going to be the bigger person.

They loaded the sonar equipment on to one of the smaller boats the crew kept. A half an hour later they were heading out to the location of the wreckage.

And Avery had to admit to the bubbling euphoria rippling through her chest.

She loved her job. It was amazing to help recover and preserve pieces of history that had been lost for ages. She’d seen pictures of the wreckage, haunting as it stood silent and still beneath the water.

But there was no way the photos could be as impressive as the site itself. She wanted to see it. The need was a physical pressure inside her chest, that drive to be down there with the memories and history so perfectly preserved by the cold, dark water.

There was nothing like the peace she always found beneath the surface. Something that often eluded her up in the air.

The Amphitrite was anchored quite a way from the site for safety reasons. They wanted to be well clear of the wreckage so that they minimized the potential for disturbances, especially since she rested so close to the edge of the ravine and had already shown signs of instability.

They were going to have to get closer eventually, but for now protocol dictated they visit the area as little as possible. They approached the site, Knox throttling down as he turned the sonar equipment on and began to take readings of the seabed beneath them. She had enough experience to read the data spilling back at them and identify the dramatic depth difference where the rocky ledge the Chimera rested on dropped off.

Her heartbeat sped as the outline of the wreckage appeared on the screen. Slowly, the equipment revealed what had brought them both there—proof that a sunken ship sat over a hundred feet beneath them.

Excitement and impatience buzzed through her system, making it difficult to sit still. She wanted to be down there, not stuck on the small boat with Knox.

Avery found herself holding her breath in a mix of anticipation, excitement and guilt.

No, she wasn’t going to go there. She had no idea if the ship below them was really the Chimera and until she did there was no sense in borrowing trouble.

Avery watched Knox work, grudgingly admitting that he knew his way around the equipment. Even if he moved at a snail’s pace while using it. Every shift of his body was deliberate—the way the muscles in his arms and legs rippled as he moved, adjusting knobs, flipping switches, staring at the readout.

The longer she sat and watched him, the more tension seemed to fill her body. The boat was small. The man was big. And he wouldn’t let her do anything.

“Let me help.”

“No,” he said, without even bothering to look up from the data.

“Come on. I’m just sitting here.”

“I told you it was pointless for you to come, but you insisted.” The so sit there and be quiet was implied by his tone of voice.

Avery didn’t appreciate that much either.

Her fingers began tapping on the edge of the boat, a rhythm she couldn’t seem to stop. She wasn’t used to watching someone else work. Being idle drove her nuts.

After several minutes, Knox finally threw her a glare. “Stop that.”

Beneath the weight of his gaze, Avery stilled. For a moment. And then she deliberately thrummed her fingers against the smooth wood again.

It might have been childish to enjoy watching the edges of his mouth tighten with irritation. But there was a part of her—a bigger part than she really wanted to admit—that delighted in knowing she could get under his skin the same way he managed to dig at her.

“Payback is hell,” she taunted.

Knox opened his mouth, she expected a string of unhappy words to flow out, but instead a slow smile bloomed across his face. It crinkled the corners of his eyes. Light and laughter flashed through them, turning the caramel color to something hot and inexplicably making her mouth water.

Leaning sideways, Knox dipped his hand into the water beside them. Cupping his palm, he scooped up a handful. Avery knew what was coming, but there was nothing she could do. Nowhere to go.

“Don’t you—”

He did, flinging the salt water straight at her. It cascaded down the front of her shirt leaving splotches over the cotton. Droplets clung to her eyelashes and the wisps of hair that had fallen down from her ponytail.

“You’re right, doc, it sure is.”

Avery wanted to yell at him. She opened her mouth to do it, but nothing came out. She wasn’t used to men playing with her. Didn’t know how to react. Especially since her entire body was responding as if he’d touched her instead of the water, flaming hot and throbbing in inopportune places.

At least she could blame her tightened nipples on the cool breeze drying her shirt.

Out of nowhere, a low buzz interrupted any retaliation she might have planned. At first it was faint enough that Avery thought maybe Knox had stuffed his cell into his pocket. But as the sound grew, the rumble quickly increasing to a whine that vibrated through her chest, she realized that wasn’t the case.

Then a small plane appeared on the horizon.

“Knox,” she said, pointing to where the speck was quickly growing.

It wasn’t unusual to see planes carrying passengers or cargo from island to island, but this one was out in the middle of nowhere.

“It’s coming in low,” Knox murmured, almost to himself. Abandoning what he’d been doing, he straightened, using a hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. “Very low.”

He flipped an assessing glance at her. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but it was enough to let her know he somehow thought she was responsible for whatever was happening.

What the hell?

The plane buzzed past, banking hard to the right and swinging in a large arc. At a diagonal, it headed away, but managed to drop even lower in the sky.

“What the heck are they doing?”

“McNair.”

It wasn’t an answer, and yet it was. “You think he’s surveying the wreck site?” Surprise crept into her voice, although once the words were out of her mouth, she didn’t know why.

It was exactly the kind of thing McNair would do. Even thinking he had her firmly lodged in his back pocket, he wasn’t the kind of man to leave things to chance.

Or maybe he was just checking up on her.

Anxiety ricocheted through Avery’s rib cage. He needed to back off or he was going to ruin any chance she had of doing what he’d ordered.

Then something tumbled out of the back of the plane and plunged toward the water.

“Oh, my God!” Avery shouted, shooting to her feet. The boat rocked unsteadily with the sudden shift in weight. Knox reached for her hand and tugged, pulling her back down.

As they watched, a parachute popped free of the dark spot plummeting toward the water. Avery let out a sigh of relief, slumping onto her seat.

The dangerous descent slowed. Whatever had fallen dropped out of their line of sight, but there was no doubt it had hit the water.

Knox barely gave her any warning before revving the engine. “Hold on.” He cranked it high and jolted forward, speeding in that direction.

Gripping the edge of the boat, Avery closed her eyes against the spray of water whipping into her face. The boat bounced on the waves, sending her stomach jolting up and down between her throat and toes, until she felt as if her insides were jumbling together. Adrenaline surged into her already spinning system.

It didn’t take them long to reach the object, five minutes at the most. But the Amphitrite was no longer on the horizon. They were surrounded by nothing but open sea on all sides, which normally wouldn’t bother her.

Except someone had dropped something into the water and the parachute suggested it was intentional.

For the first time since everything had started, Avery began to question why they were chasing after whatever it was.

A huge wooden box came into view. The parachute stretched out across the water like a colorful oil slick. On all sides were inflated tubes keeping the cargo afloat.

Avery was getting a really bad feeling.

“Uh...remind me why we raced over here?”

Knox flashed her one hell of an untamed glance. It had the pulse fluttering in her throat with a mixture of lust and excitement.

“Because, doc, I’m a SEAL and we don’t run from trouble, we barrel toward it.”

“Fabulous, but could you do that when I’m not around?”

His mouth hardened, but he didn’t respond. His focus was entirely on the box in front of him. He slowed the boat, circling the box, stirring up a wake that rocked both it and their boat.

Knox maneuvered close and then cut the engine, floating the rest of the way until the side of their vessel bumped gently against the roughly hewn wood.

“It’s probably a drug drop.”

Avery’s eyes slid closed, her stomach clenching tight. Not the words she’d wanted to hear, but not altogether surprising. “Then we should leave and call the Coast Guard or something.”

“Coast Guard doesn’t have jurisdiction out here.”

“Then let’s call whoever does.”

Knox was shaking his head before she’d even finished the sentence. “By the time they get here this shipment will be long gone.”

“But they’ll know where to look next time.”

He ignored her statement. “Do you see that?” He pointed to a tiny object affixed to the side of the box toward the top. “Homing beacon.”

Beautiful. So whoever was coming to pick up the box had a device to lead them straight there. “So we’re just going to what, wait for them to show up? Knox there are two of us and we’re unarmed.”

“I know,” he said, his voice tight.

Jumping in front of the wheel, Knox cranked the engine. He scanned the horizon, even as he began to maneuver away.

“Hang on. I’m getting us out of here.”

Avery’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the seat. Her heart pounded so fast she could feel the whoosh of blood as it sped through her veins. She wanted the boat to be going just as fast.

But before Knox could steer them away, a loud humming sound rolled across the water. Unlike the plane, it didn’t build quietly but went straight from low to roar.

A black boat streaked across the water, heading straight for them like a bullet.

“Dammit,” Knox breathed out.

Avery felt her eyes widen with fear and disbelief. How had her day gone so completely sideways? They were supposed to be playing with sonar, not dealing with drug runners.

The boat approached quickly. Low and sleek, it cut through the waves at a speed that boggled the mind. It screamed up beside them, throwing spray that coated her skin in seawater and sandwiching their vessel against the box.

The engine cut out suddenly, and a lazy drawl came from the other boat.

“You appear to be lost.”

The man speaking had bronzed skin and gleaming white teeth, along with an American accent, insolent smile and sharp eyes. He stood in front of a group of men who didn’t bother to hide the guns pointed in their direction.

Avery glanced over at Knox. Gone was the guy who’d splashed water on her earlier, slapped a beer into her hand last night and made inappropriate comments about her sleeping attire.

The person glaring at the men in the boat next to them was a soldier. One who’d put his life on the line multiple times and would do so again to protect his friends and family. Maybe even her...

A shiver of awareness and apprehension rocked through Avery’s body.

Knox’s jaw was tight, his eyes alert and watchful. But none of that came through in the languid words that slipped through his lips. “That’s funny, I was going to say the same thing about this box. I’m guessing you’re the owner.”

The leader shrugged his shoulders. “I am.”

Moving carefully, Knox positioned himself so that he was in front of her, making himself a target for the weapons trained their way.

“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing you showed up to retrieve it. Saves me the effort of hauling it back to my ship.”

The guy on the other boat laughed, throwing his head back as if Knox had just told the most amazing joke. The sound grated against Avery’s already frayed nerves.

This was not going to end well.

And there was nothing she could do about it. She was trained in Muay Thai, something she’d begun when her family lived in a small village in Thailand during one of her father’s archaeological digs. But that skill was useless with them occupying separate boats. Muay Thai required close contact...their guns, not so much.

That didn’t stop the adrenaline from flooding her system. Or the involuntary way her body adjusted, muscle memory taking over and preparing her for a fight she really didn’t want.

Her movement caught the drug runner’s attention. Shifting on his feet, he peered at her around the wall of Knox’s body. The grin he sent her was wolfish.

She’d seen that expression before, on a different face. One she tried not to think about because that night had altered her life...and her sister’s.

But there wasn’t time for those memories right now.

Standing slowly, Avery filled her voice with determination and said, “Take the cargo and let us leave.”

The man’s grin widened. “I think it’s adorable you believe you have any say in what’s going to happen next.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.