by L. A. Fiore
“He wasn’t eating it. It’s good too.” Her eyes dropped before lifting in search of our waiter. “Where’s our bread?”
“What did you talk about?”
“He said nothing, but I talked mostly about you.”
The screech was heard across the dining room. I ducked my head, my face on fire as I glared at my friend who I would be killing as soon as we left the building. “You talked about me?”
“Common denominator. I told him about your secret obsession with the Hanson brothers.”
The urge to bang my head on the table was strong. “Did you give him my measurements and shoe size?”
“No, should I have?”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I didn’t reveal anything too embarrassing and I honestly think his expression changed slightly for some of the stories. I dare say he was smiling on the inside.”
“You are so full of shit.”
Our waiter returned with my drinks, I was gracious enough to share one with Zoe. We placed our dinner orders and before the waiter left, I stopped him.
“Could you please bring a glass of whatever that gentleman is drinking to him with my sincerest apologies.”
“As you wish.”
Our bread arrived, Zoe was right it was delicious. When the waiter dropped the glass off with Sexy 354 my eyes connected with his for a second. I saw recognition and the slight smile that curved his lips before he returned to his phone. The man should come with a warning label, though for that slight smile I would totally ignore it.
The following afternoon, I returned to the resort after taking a group out for a dive. I had been distracted, thinking about last night and Sexy 354. He occupied my thoughts far more than he should but the man was, in a word, awesome.
I performed my functions on autopilot, including confirming all the guests had returned their equipment because forgetting that step could land the unsuspecting tourists a hefty bill at the end of their stay.
My phone rang. Checking the screen I couldn’t help the smile. Decker.
“Hey, stranger,” I said in way of greeting.
“Hey, back.”
“How are things?”
“Slow going. I’m wondering if someone didn’t already beat us to it.”
That was the worst. All the time, money and work only to find the wreck already looted. It cost loads of money to research wrecks, to coordinate a team and all the equipment. So for it to be gone… “That sucks.”
“Yeah, we’ve scoured most of the ship and so far no hidden compartment or bars of gold. It is still a hell of a wreck. I took pictures. I mailed them to you.”
“Thanks. I’ll check them out.”
“How’s Zoe? What crazy things has she done since I’ve been away?”
“She had a date with Frodo the other night.”
He paused for a beat or two, “From Lord of the Rings?”
“She claims he looked just like him.”
Decker laughed, “The woman is a nut.”
Someone spoke to Decker before he said, “I’ve got to go. We’re heading back down.”
“Have fun. Hope you find them.”
I was just disconnecting the call when a deep voice came from behind me.
“I have either the best fucking luck or you work here.”
I turned to see Sexy 354. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I slowly slid my gaze down his body. The way the cotton stretched over his muscled chest and arms and how the denim hugged his thighs had several places on my body stirring to life.
When my eyes finally reached his face, he was smiling at me. And why not. I had just openly ogled him.
“I take the little ones snorkeling.” I said that rather abruptly in an attempt to take the focus off the fact that I had been checking him out while he watched me check him out.
“Just the little ones?”
The man was flirting with me. I wanted to pinch myself because I couldn’t believe he was flirting with me. “Usually, but not limited to.”
He liked that answer because the grin turned into a smile.
A second man appeared. I hadn’t even heard him approach. It was the sight of him that had the words dying on my tongue. His hair was long and dark, his body tall and muscled and he had the coldest blue eyes I had ever seen. He had a snake tattoo that curled around his neck, but it was the sight of him standing next to Sexy 354 that had my mind working overtime. I assumed Sexy 354 was a businessman, but his friend was not a businessman. No way in hell. How did they know each other? He wasn’t a man of many words because all he said was, “Now.”
That clearly meant something to Sexy 354 because his demeanor changed; he looked every bit the villain as his companion. Déjà vu swept through me. I had seen that look before.
His focus turned back to me. His gaze slid down my body before returning to my face. “Join me for dinner.”
I didn’t answer him right away because I was struggling, wanting to believe something I knew couldn’t be true.
He smiled and took a step closer. He reached for my hand, his calloused palm familiar, the way he held mine firm but gently also stirred déjà vu. It wasn’t possible.
“We’re missing a step. I’m Noah.”
His name jarred me from my ramblings. Noah, not Kace. My romantic heart was playing tricks on me. My eyes were on our hands for a second or two before I lifted them to his face. “Willow.”
“Now that we’re acquainted, join me for dinner. Anceline’s, tonight at eight.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Okay.”
His thumb was caressing the back of my hand before he released it. “Tonight then.”
“Tonight.”
I watched him walk away, didn’t even try to hide it. He knew I was because right before he disappeared around the corner, he looked back at me and winked.
WILLOW
You should wear the emerald green sundress. It matches your eyes.” Zoe instructed as she tossed clothes from my closet. “And the nude sandals. They make your legs look ridiculously long.”
I hadn’t been this excited for a date, well, ever.
“Wear your hair down. Men find those copper curls sexy. And Willow, I won’t think less of you if you sleep with him on the first date. In fact, I might start a cult to worship you because you’ll become my hero.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You are going to dinner with a man who is arguably the sexiest man to ever step foot on this island. Hero status is not so far-fetched.”
I slipped on the sleeveless dress. It was one of my favorites. The front had a deep V neckline with scalloped edges. The back also cut into a V that ended just above my waistline and the hem fell about two inches above my knees.
“That is such a great color on you. My baby is all grown up.”
I couldn’t help the eye roll.
“Call me if something should go weird or if you want to share.” She winked. “Kidding. Have fun. And I want a full report, one I hope I get tomorrow because you’ll be otherwise engaged this evening.”
The reckless side of me hoped I would be otherwise engaged too.
I arrived before Noah, so I waited near the bar since the waiting area was packed. He arrived a few minutes later. He was dressed in a suit and still there was no denying he had an incredible body under those clothes. He stopped at the hostess station and she glanced up then straightened and fluffed her hair. I saw her cheeks turn pink from where I stood and I totally got it. He then scanned the crowd as he moved through it and when his eyes landed on me, he stopped and slid his gaze slowly down my body. A trail of heat was left in the wake of his sensual perusal. When his eyes returned to my face, there was a promise buried in those dark depths. My pulse pounded in several places that were very distracting.
“Willow.” It was just my name, but when coming from his mouth, in that voice, it sounded more like foreplay.
“Noah.”
“Our table is ready.” He touched the sm
all of my back and led me through the restaurant. When we reached our table, he held my chair before folding himself in the one across from me. The waitress practically fell on top of herself to get to him.
“Would you like wine?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Red or white?”
“You pick.”
He was a man very comfortable in his own skin. He addressed the waitress and ordered a bottle and from the ease in which he did so, he clearly was a man who enjoyed wine with his meals.
His focus turned to me. “Any suggestions on what I should order?”
Me almost rolled off my tongue. I caught myself though, luckily. Or not.
“The pot fish and funghi, despite its unfortunate name, is delicious. The combination of the fried fish, stewed vegetables and cornmeal prepared in a consistency similar to mashed potatoes, really complement each other.”
“And what will you have?”
“The red pea soup and a Caesar salad.”
Noah ordered for both of us as the wine sommelier uncorked the wine and poured a splash in Noah’s glass. Everything the man did was sexy. He had a way of moving that was effortless and yet elegant. He tasted the wine and gave a slight nod of approval. Once our wine was served he reached for his glass and held it up in a silent toast.
My hand was shaking a bit as I watched him bring the glass to his lips, watched as he sipped and how his throat muscles moved as he swallowed. I squeezed my thighs together to ease the ache between my legs.
“So you take the guest’s children snorkeling.”
“I actually work for a salvage company, a diver, but when I’m not on dives I work part-time at the resort.”
Interest sparked in his eyes. “Salvage, what’s that like?”
“I love every part of it. From finding the wreck and uncovering it to reclaiming a piece of the past that was thought to be lost.”
He studied me for a few seconds before he said, “I can tell, you’re glowing just from talking about it.”
I suspected I was glowing because of whom I was sitting across from. I kept that tidbit to myself.
“What do you do?”
He didn’t answer right away and I almost had the sense he was gauging what he wanted to say. “Acquisitions.”
“Antiquities?”
“Usually.”
“For a museum?”
“No, privately funded.”
“And what do you acquire.”
There was a sparkle in his eyes when he said, “Anything of value.” He reached for his glass. “Why did you agree to join me tonight? We’ve had a few chance encounters, but for all you know I’m a serial killer.”
I didn’t realize I intended to tell him the truth, but the words just tumbled out. “Someone close to me offered the advice once that I should be daring and reckless, to live life. I said yes because I’ve taken that advice to heart. Besides, you remind me of someone.”
He grew quiet for a few minutes. “I remind you of someone?”
“Someone from a long time ago.”
“What happened to him?”
“I think he died.”
“You think?”
“He too was in acquisitions, just a little more reckless. We didn’t keep in touch, but I always knew he was out there, could kind of sense it, and then one day I couldn’t.”
He reached for his glass, but I couldn’t read him at all. “Sense him?”
“He claimed a piece of my heart and that kind of linked us. I know it sounds silly, but I’m a hopeless romantic.”
His demeanor changed. He looked dangerous. He leaned forward a bit and dropped his voice. “Lucky man.”
“I think I was the lucky one.”
Before he could reply, our food arrived.
Dinner had been quiet compared to before dinner. Noah had something on his mind, but it was the way he ate that held my interest. He took his time eating. He savored every morsel and he ate everything. He didn’t lift his plate to his mouth to lick it clean, the man had impeccable manners, but he cleared his plate. He ate exactly how Kace had eaten that burger, deliberately.
After our dessert plates were cleared, I waited for him to end the date as soon as he paid the check because the dynamic of the evening had changed. A man like this wouldn’t like to be compared to someone else. I was genuinely surprised when he stood and offered me his hand. He said nothing, but it was the twinkle of challenge in his gaze that had me accepting it. In response, he grinned before he pulled me from the restaurant to a sexy car, a model I had never before seen on the island.
He held my door then came around and folded himself behind the wheel. He glanced over at me before he smiled. “Ready?”
He claimed he could be a serial killer and for all I knew about him he was, but I wanted to be able to say I had the courage to get in the car when I was eighty and living alone but for my twenty cats. My answer was far easier to give than it should have been. “Yes.”
We walked along the beach, but it was late so most tourists had moved on to an evening of entertainment St. Croix-style. The full moon reflecting off the water, the soft sand between my toes and the presence of the man at my side made for an evening that felt like a scene straight out of the pages of a book.
He had rolled up his pants, left his shoes and socks in the car, along with his jacket and tie as we strolled along the beach. The silence was comfortable.
His words sounded almost harsh for the serene moment. “Who offered you the advice on being daring?”
He looked more than a little dangerous with the way the light of the full moon cast down on him, but the thread of fear he stirred only added to his allure. “My granddad.”
“Are there other activities in your being daring and reckless plan, besides agreeing to dinner with a stranger?”
“I’m going horseback riding on the beach the day after tomorrow, courtesy of the resort.”
“Horseback riding?”
“Yes, horses scare me but the idea of riding along the beach...I really want to try.”
His expression was hard to read before he reached for my hand. It was effortless, an almost familiar action that trapped the air in my lungs when his strong fingers linked with mine. Without a word, he turned me into him and drew me tight against his hard body. He studied me like I studied him before he started to move me around the sand to a song only he could hear. Never in my life had I been moved to speechlessness, but I was in that moment.
His head lowered, his lips were so close I felt his soft breath against my mouth and I felt it again, familiarity. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Do I know you?”
Those gray eyes moved over my face and settled on my lips. Danger screamed in my head, a warning my brain demanded I heed but was overruled by my romantic heart.
“Not yet, Willow.”
I felt those words because they ignited a heat that sizzled right down my body. Without saying another word, he put some distance between us but he kept my hand as he led me back to his car. His words felt more like a threat than a promise, but I didn’t care as long as it meant I would see him again.
St. Croix had a kick-ass maritime library and I visited a few times a month to research Isabella. As I jogged up the steps to the front door, my thoughts were on Noah. I was curious about him. His clothes were exquisite, his haircut top rate, his watch and shoes on the pricey end. A successful businessman. And then there was his friend. As opposite to Noah as one could be on the surface, yet I suspected they were more alike than their appearances would suggest. Noah was a puzzle and I loved puzzles. I bet learning his story would be as fascinating as the man it had forged.
I came to the library often enough that I knew the librarian by name. I actually knew Mrs. Gates better than that. I had been invited to her place for Thanksgiving last year. She was sipping her customary cup of hot tea when I reached her desk.
“Willow. It’s lovely to see you. What books do you need today?”
“They are all in the rare section.”
“I don’t know why I ask,” she replied with a smile. “Follow me.”
We moved through the library and up to the second floor.
“Here we are,” she said as we entered the rare book section that was housed in its own room, reminding me of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts.
Her old fingers removed the books from the shelves and handed them to me. “You know the drill. Return them directly to me when you’re done.”
“Yep, thank you.”
Back at my table, I pulled out my laptop. I had been researching Isabella for years, whenever I had spare time. It was a slow process. I did have two jobs and the information we sought was as hard to find as Mr. Tuttleman had warned. Locating hard copies of shipping records, titles, even names and dates was challenging and hair pulling. Mr. Tuttleman’s contacts were amazing in what they were able to uncover and still it took us years not months to see results. That was the nature of hunting. One had to be patient. It took scientists seventy years to find the Titantic and they knew where that ship sunk.
Alejandro was a bit of a romantic himself. You could see it in some of his passages, the way he described what he saw. A merchant fleet owner, but an explorer at heart too. I only had the translated pages but still he had a way of writing. The emerald blanket, turbulent seas churning the water white, beauty from disaster, the moon like a pearl, aquamarine water, watched over by a star. The reference to Felix and how he described their relationship, I had the sense he was a young kid. Why would a child be on a merchant ship? Unless it was a type of apprenticeship. The treasure itself, the necklace that was a symbol of their sad story, was an elusive one. We had uncovered manifests that proved Alejandro traveled regularly to a port located in San Juan Bautista, now called San Juan—the largest city in Puerto Rico. The flagship of his fleet was Isabella, named after his young wife. It was believed he commissioned the necklace for Isabella as a one-year anniversary gift. A symbol meant to be the beginning of beautiful love story, became a memorial to it. In his journal he described the gift he planned to have made—a necklace of platinum and uncut diamonds. He had been specific about platinum because it was so rare, like her. I had been looking for the jeweler for the past year, starting my search in Spain, but platinum was still in its infancy in Alejandro’s time. In fact, most designers didn’t work with it because most believed it to be a less refined version of silver. It wasn’t until the end of the 1700s that scientists made it more malleable making it interesting for jewelry design. I did, however, find a jeweler in Mexico, a Juan Lopez who was notable for his pioneering work in platinum. Alejandro had been making routine trips between Spain and Puerto Rico so it wasn’t a leap to believe he went farther west than Puerto Rico to Mexico. Mr. Tuttleman put in a call to some contacts to get more information on Juan Lopez, who had lived in Campeche, a minor port during the time period in question. Excitement skipped down my spine. It was speculation, but I knew the necklace was real. I also knew from Luciana, that Alejandro’s ship sank on his return voyage home. Campeche at the time was an area notorious for pirates. My gut was telling me he never made it off the coast of Campeche. I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, it really was addicting.