Chapter 22
Luke didn’t remember much of the journey back through the tunnel; his thoughts were such a kaleidoscope of excitement, disbelief and plans that he barely noticed the water swirling around his ankles or the rough passage walls scraping the skin from his hands as he lifted Issie out and hauled himself after her. Even the sight of her gorgeous butt just a few tantalising inches above his head barely registered.
He’d found the Isabella’s lost cargo. Holy shit! He’d really gone and done it! Just as his instincts had told him, riches beyond imagination lay beneath this quaint little village, hidden for years by legends and fallen rocks, but there nonetheless. That one blurry image on his mobile phone was going to change everything for him and he could hardly wait.
“What are we going to do?” Issie was asking. Her face was pale and she was trembling, although whether from cold or excitement Luke wasn’t sure.
He took her icy hands in his and raised them to his lips, an arrow of tenderness shooting through him. Issie was so clever and brave, and without her he would never have got this far. If he hadn’t seen her on the TV, he wouldn’t have known about the coin necklace and realised that there was truth in the legend. Folding her in his arms, Luke kissed the top of her golden head. Black Jack’s loot had been hidden in the tunnel for well over two hundred years. It wouldn’t hurt to leave it there for a few more hours.
“We’re going to get you warm and dry, that’s what we’re going to do,” he told her. “We’re going to worry about the treasure later.”
She stared up at him and her blue eyes were dark with worry. “I wasn’t thinking about the treasure. Luke, there’s a body in there.”
Luke squeezed her fingers. He’d dived wrecks more times than he could recall, and coming across human remains was par for the course. All the same, he still remembered the first time he’d come face to face with a skull. Those empty eyes and the leering grin had haunted his dreams for months.
“Honey, I think we know who that is.”
“Black Jack,” Issie whispered.
“I’d put money on it. He must have been on his way back up to the woods when the tunnel collapsed and he was trapped. The rising tide probably drowned him,” Luke replied. A shudder ran through him. Jeez. What a way to go, pinned down in the dark as the brine seeped into your mouth, your nose, your eyes. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.
“The treasure’s supposed to be unlucky,” Issie reminded him as they made their way into the cottage. She bit her lip. “What if it really is?”
He laughed. “C’mon, honey. You’re smarter than that. You don’t believe all that horse shit. It was made up to stop the likes of Black Jack trying to steal it.”
“Well, whether or not that stuff about a curse was made up, that treasure didn’t do him any favours,” she pointed out.
“Ill-gotten gains tend to have that effect on the people involved with them,” Luke said firmly. There was no way he was having Issie freak out on him now. “I bet there are lots of modern-day drug smugglers who feel pretty cursed when they’re banged up or executed.”
Issie nodded, but didn’t look convinced. While Luke filled the kettle to make tea – Jeez, was he turning into a Brit? – she leaned against the counter and gnawed her thumbnail.
“Maybe we shouldn’t say anything?” she said quietly.
Luke was so taken aback that he barely noticed the tap water reaching the top of the kettle and starting to overflow.
“You think we should just keep quiet?” he asked incredulously, finally turning the tap off. “Honey, this is the discovery of the century. I thought you were desperate to find the treasure and prove the story?”
She bit her nail again. “I was but I didn’t get it then. It wasn’t real.”
Ah. Issie had made the mistake of letting it in; Luke totally got that. To succeed in his business you had to harden your heart to the human tragedies and the suffering that invariably led to wrecks. When you explored a dive site you had to remain dispassionate and keep a level head. The moment you realised you were actually plundering a mass grave was the moment your career was over. He’d seen it happen to other people. Emotion was fatal.
He took a deep breath. “This is history and it needs to be documented. We have a duty to do that. We can’t just leave it there because you’re worried about a load of old mumbo jumbo.”
Her gaze, clear and honest, met his. “The manifest exists and the cargo is documented. You already have all you need to write a paper, surely? And the main thing is that we know we were right. So why can’t we just leave it where it is?”
Luke couldn’t meet her eyes. The truthful answer to her question was that Stella was expecting a return on her investment, and Luke needed this find to set himself up properly. But how could he possibly tell Issie this when he’d not levelled with her in the first place?
“Don’t you want people to know you were right?” he asked.
Issie laughed, but it was a harsh sound and nothing like her usually merry giggle. “Are you trying to appeal to my vanity? Yeah, sure there’s a nasty part of me that would love to stand on the quay and yell I told you so to everyone, but where would that really get me? I know the truth. Do I really want half the village dug up and even more visitors coming in the hope of finding more loot somewhere else as well? Granny Alice is right: Polwenna Bay will be ruined.”
Luke ran his hands through his curls. His brain was whirling as he tried to put counterarguments together, but he knew that Issie was talking perfect sense, at least in the context of their original plan. She just had no idea how much he needed that find. His entire future was staked on it.
“That treasure is worth millions,” was all he could say. He knew it sounded lame.
“So it all comes down to money? That’s all you care about?”
“Money’s pretty damn important!”
She swept her arm towards the window and the view of the bay beyond. “More important than this?”
The day was a cold bright blue, and beyond the golden sickle of sand the waves danced. Across the bay, cottage windows glittered in the sunlight and the valley was vivid green. Smoke from chimneys drifted lazily and a small fishing boat chugged out of the harbour gate. The scene was stunning and timeless, and to his horror Luke felt a sharp tug at his heartstrings.
“More important than us?” she said softly.
Torn and confused, Luke Dawson couldn’t reply. What the hell had happened to him? He’d only been in this strange place for a short time, but somehow its magic had crept under his skin and into his heart. The harsh beauty and racing clouds, the scoured light and broad seas thrilled him and captured his imagination, just as this determined girl filled his waking thoughts and excited him with her every touch. He’d come to England with one express purpose, and that was to find the Isabella’s lost treasure. Falling in love with the place and with Issie had never been part of the deal. Some no-strings sex? Sure, he was up for that, like any guy would be. But anything else had never been on the table. It still wasn’t.
Luke Dawson didn’t do commitment. Ask Stella. Ask any of the girls in Key West. He certainly wasn’t about to start now, not when his whole future depended on it. He just had to hold firm. In a few weeks’ time this would all feel like a dream.
The million-dollar question (literally) was, did Luke want Issie Tremaine to be a dream? Or did he want every moment to feel as real as all the moments they’d spent together so far?
The cottage was so quiet that it felt as though the whole world was holding its breath in anticipation of his reply. Then Issie’s iPhone shrilled and the mood was broken.
“I’d better take this: it’s my sister and she never calls,” Issie said with a frown as she took the call. “Mo? Are you all right?”
The Tremaines were a tight-knit clan and Luke envied them that. They were the opposite of his splintered family unit. After all, his parents were estranged, his sister was dead, and he and his father weren’t speaking. T
he Dawsons were the original good old screwed-up American family. The Waltons they were not.
“Everything OK?” Luke asked as soon as Issie ended the call. She hadn’t said much during it but there had been a lot of gasping, followed by a few exclamations. Now the call was over Issie seemed even more shell-shocked.
“This has to be one of the weirdest days of my life,” Issie said, looking stunned. “Mo’s just told me that Granny Alice is getting married. Granny Alice!”
“Cool,” said Luke. “That’s good news, right?”
“I suppose so. It’s just a bit of a shock. Mo says Granny wants us all at Sy’s restaurant for a celebration lunch. You’re invited too, by the way, which means she thinks you’re all right.”
Luke felt a prickle of guilt. Alice wouldn’t think he was all right if she knew why he was really in the village…
“Her fiancé’s that old dude, Jonny, right?” he said quickly, to cover the sudden feeling of unease.
“Are you psychic? Yes, Jonny St Milton. How the hell did you know that?”
He laughed. “It was obvious something was going on.”
“Not to me, it wasn’t,” said Issie. Then she groaned. “Oh bollocks. I’m going to be related to Evil Ella and Terrible Ted. Kill me now. Do you think they’ve gone senile? Maybe I can stop this before it’s too late.”
“Just because they’re old doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings. And besides, there’s history there,” Luke said.
“You’re right. I’m happy for them both; it’s sweet. And I’ll take your word for it about them having a past, since history’s your thing.” She smiled up at him, the first real smile he’d seen since they’d returned from the tunnel. It felt to Luke as though the sun had come out from behind louring clouds, and his heart melted. There was such trust in that smile that he felt winded. Christ. He’d do anything to see Issie smile.
Maybe even step away from a fortune?
Yes, he’d even do that. God help him. He was smitten. Totally and utterly smitten.
He stepped forward and took her face in his hands.
“You are my thing,” he said – and as he kissed her, Luke Dawson knew what his decision was. He just hoped he had the stones and the strength of will to stick to it.
* * *
Jonny St Milton might be old but he certainly did things in style, Luke thought admiringly. Although this was incredibly short notice to organise an engagement lunch, he’d managed to pull it off – albeit that the lunch was slightly later in the day than usual. Symon Tremaine’s seafood restaurant was the perfect venue. Low ceilings, small windows and soft lighting created an air of intimacy, and great care had been put into the seating arrangements so that everyone was with their nearest and dearest. Sitting beside Issie, with her fingers woven with his, Luke didn’t even need to drink his glass of Taittinger for his head to start spinning; the events of the day so far had already had that effect. After all, it wasn’t every day you discovered a king’s ransom in lost treasure and decided to turn it away. And it wasn’t every day that he realised he was in love.
He was in love with Issie Tremaine. That had never been on the agenda, but somehow this small, determined girl with the face of an angel and the courage of a lion had found her way into his heart. As the chatter rose around him like the bubbles in his champagne flute, Luke glanced at Issie and knew he was making the right choice. Where this was going he hadn’t a clue, maybe nowhere, but giving up without trying to find out wasn’t going to be an option. That he wanted her more than he wanted the treasure surely told him all he needed to know about the strength of his feelings?
Issie’s family were out in force for Alice’s engagement lunch: the sister with the wild red hair who was married to Ashley with the boat; the oldest brother with his stunning model girlfriend; the injured soldier brother with Jules the vicar; and then Symon, who owned the restaurant and was popping in and out of the kitchen whenever he could. Only two of Issie’s brothers were missing, one being out fishing and the other abroad. But even the soldier’s ex-wife was present with her new doctor partner, and there was a great-grandchild too, enthusiastically taking pictures. They all clearly adored each other and were having a wonderful time in each other’s company.
In direct contrast to the gaggle of noisy, happy Tremaines, Jonny St Milton’s family consisted of just two grandchildren – both of whom looked as though they were sucking acid drops and sitting on itching powder. Luke’s old adversary Teddy couldn’t have glowered more if he tried, especially whenever he looked over at Luke and Issie. Meanwhile Teddy’s sister, a sulky skinny blonde, could barely bring herself to look up from the tablecloth. Whenever Alice tried to engage her in conversation, the blonde merely shrugged her bony shoulders.
“That’s Evil Ella,” said Issie, seeing the direction of his gaze. “Might be beautiful but she’s total hell. Hates Mo and Jake with a passion, and not too keen on the rest of us either.”
“Neither Teddy or Ella look thrilled by any of this,” Luke observed.
Issie laughed. “No shit, Sherlock. Probably think we’re going to steal their inheritance when dear old Jonny pops his clogs. That’s how their minds work, because that’s exactly what they’d do. All those two care about is money.”
Luke got this. In his world it was all about the green: nobody looked down at people for wanting money, making money or flashing it about. In fact, the bigger your car, the flasher and newer your house, and the more your wife dripped in diamonds, the better. Throw in a boat and a jet ski and it was job done. In England things seemed very different. Take Jonny St Milton for instance. The guy was obviously seriously rich but he was dressed like a tramp, walked everywhere and lived in an ancient house. Even Prince William looked like he could do with a trip to Saks.
No, Luke thought, I don’t get it. Brits are way odd.
Jonny St Milton stood up, cleared his throat and struck a wine glass with his butter knife until the room became quiet.
“Thank you all for making it here at such short notice,” he began, beaming around at them all. “I can imagine that this has come as quite a surprise for many of you—”
“A shock, more like,” Ella St Milton muttered, but her grandfather chose to ignore her, pressing on valiantly.
“…but I’m thrilled to say that today I am the proudest man alive because Alice has agreed to be my wife.”
Alice, who was sitting beside him, blushed. Luke thought she looked years younger. There was a sparkle in her eyes and she couldn’t stop smiling. Happiness was obviously the best anti-ageing product out.
“Senile old fool,” Teddy spat, but luckily his vitriol was drowned as everyone clapped and called their congratulations. Looking mutinous, Teddy shoved his chair back and stalked out of the room without so much as a glance in his grandfather’s direction.
“Nasty, aren’t they?” Issie whispered to Luke. “Poor Granny, inheriting those two. I hope Jonny kicks them out.”
Luke was on the brink of replying when the door of the restaurant swung open and a man strode in. Slight in stature, with floppy dark hair and designer wire spectacles, he didn’t look anything like the golden- or red-haired Tremaines, or the sharp and spiky St Miltons.
Which party does he belong to? Luke wondered idly, his thumb tracing small circles on Issie’s palm. Maybe he was with Ella? From the way this guy’s intense hazel eyes were scanning the room, Luke reckoned he must be searching for a woman.
“Issie! There you are my darling!” His face breaking into a smile, the man waved delightedly across the restaurant, apparently oblivious to the celebrations around him.
“Oh my God.” Issie’s fingers slid from Luke’s, in synchrony with the colour sliding from her face. “I don’t believe this. No way.”
“I had to come.” The man was opposite her now and still smiling. “Darling, I’m so sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming, but after our call I couldn’t think of anything else. I just had to be with you. None of the other things matter. We c
an work through those, I promise. You were right all along and I should have listened. What matters is that we love each other.”
Luke felt as though all the blood in his body had frozen. He waited for Issie to demand to know who this crazy man was and what the hell he wanted, but a part of Luke already knew this wasn’t going to happen. Judging by the shocked expression on her face, Issie knew exactly who this was. This man was no stranger.
He was far from that.
“Mark, what the hell are you doing here?” Issie exclaimed.
The man beamed at her. “Exactly what I should have done months ago. I’m telling you how I feel, Issie. It’s over with Emma, long over. I love you and I know you still love me. I should never have let you leave. Christ, I’m an idiot, but it’s going to be all right now, my darling. We can be together properly.”
Issie’s mouth was a little o of surprise. She seemed stunned. When the man reached for her hands she let him take them as though in a dream.
“I love you, Issie,” the newcomer repeated. “I’ll never let you down again. Please come back with me. Marry me. Come back to Westchester like we agreed the other day.”
Luke had heard enough. It was pretty damn obvious what was going on. This was Issie’s boyfriend, a boyfriend he’d had no idea existed but with whom she’d obviously been in contact. And she wasn’t in a hurry to send this man away, either.
He pushed back his chair and without a word turned and walked out of the restaurant. He heard Issie call his name but Luke ignored her; there was no way he was going to stay and look like an idiot. His heart was black with anger. She’d played him, and like a fool he’d fallen for it. Christ. It was the oldest trick in the book, wasn’t it? Make the ex jealous by hooking up with somebody else – and in this case it had worked a treat. She’d set the whole thing up. It was obvious.
It was as if a stingray had shot a barb straight through his heart.
Issie Tremaine wasn’t the only one who could keep secrets, Luke thought furiously. He had a few of his own too, and somebody who would just love to hear them all.
Treasure of the Heart Page 21