by Neesa Hart
“It’s two in the morning,” Zack said.
Rafael gave his sister-in-law an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, August. I tried to get here earlier.”
“I know,” she said, and damn if she didn’t look amused.
Bully for her, Rafael thought irritably. Personally he’d been in a foul mood since the morning nearly a month ago when he’d walked out of Cora’s house. Technically Cora had all but thrown him out. The morning after she’d given him the page from Abigail’s diary, she’d cheerily announced that he was free to leave.
In fact, she’d practically helped him pack. She’d stood in the door of his room and told him all the reasons it would be best for both of them if he hurried back to the office. She could finish the research without him, she said. He would be more effective if he went back to work and raised money for the expedition, she said. Now that the girls were gone, she didn’t need him anymore, she said.
What she hadn’t said, but what he’d seen written on her face, was that she wasn’t about to let him disappoint her. She’d toss him out of her life before she’d stay up nights wondering how and where he was. She wanted a man she could count on—and was smart enough to know it wouldn’t be him.
And his guts had been churning ever since. He shoved a hand through his hair with a sigh of exasperation, then held out an envelope to Zack. “Look, all I want is to give you this, and then I’ll get out of your hair. It’s for Cora.”
His brother arched an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do with it?”
“I want you to look it over and make sure it’s drafted correctly. I had one of the department lawyers draw it up, but I’d appreciate it if you’d review it.”
Zack’s expression turned curious. He reached for the envelope. “What is it?”
“It’s a document stating that since Cora found the initial evidence indicating the location of the Isabela, then she’s entitled to whatever benefits it might yield if we find it on this expedition.”
August tugged her husband away from the door so that Rafael could enter their large, southern Virginia home. He was scheduled to sail out of the port at Norfolk the following day. He’d phoned ahead to tell them he was coming by that night. “How long will you be gone, Rafael?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, accepting August’s silent invitation and stepping into the house. “At least a month. Maybe longer.”
Zack had pulled the document from the envelope and was scanning it with interest. He glanced up. “Are you going to find that damned thing this time?”
Rafael nodded. “I think so. The data looks good. And I have…a hunch.” He rarely admitted things like that to his more pragmatic sibling.
Zack merely nodded and returned his gaze to the contract.
August thrust her hands into the pockets of her robe. “This is so exciting. The boys haven’t stopped talking about it since we got back from Cape Marr.”
Zack’s lips twitched. “I think they’d rather go with you than stay here and go to school.”
Rafael shook his head. “Three days of galley food and they’d change their mind.”
“You mean it’s not glamorous?” August asked, her eyes sparkling.
Once he’d thought so. Once, he couldn’t have imagined another life beyond his vagabond existence, living from expedition to expedition. Once, he’d never imagined that a woman could make him dream of forever. “Depends on your definition, I guess.”
Zack began stuffing the contract back into the envelope. “Does your definition have anything to do with an antebellum house and a certain redheaded professor?”
Rafael glanced out the window. The stars twinkled in merry derision of his melancholy. “Cora’s hair is blond,” he said absently.
August touched his arm. “Rafael…”
He looked at her, forcing a smile. “Your hair is red, August. Zack should know the difference.”
Concern registered on August’s face, but behind her, Zack’s snort was derisive. “Oh, for God’s sake. You sound like a wounded puppy.”
August gave him a sharp look. “Zack—”
He shook his head. “He does.” Zack frowned at his brother. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
Rafael could feel his temper rising. “I’m not going to explain myself to you, Zack. I just want to know if that contract’s legal.”
Zack tossed the envelope on the coffee table. “Sit down,” he commanded.
Rafael hadn’t heard that note in his brother’s voice since the day he’d left home. He looked at him incredulously. “I stopped taking orders from you when I turned seventeen.”
“And you’ve never forgiven yourself for it, have you?” Zack asked.
Rafael frowned. “What are you talking about?”
His brother sighed. “Have you at least given yourself a deadline, or are you planning to sulk forever?”
August put her hand on Zack’s forearm. “Honey—”
He shook his head. “No, I want to know. It’s been what? Seventeen years? Aren’t you getting a little tired of carrying around all that guilt?”
Rafael narrowed his gaze. “Aren’t you the one who told me that no one could count on me for anything?”
“Since when did you take my word for anything?”
“Since you accused me of leaving you alone to deal with the mess at home. What happened to all that self-righteous anger, Zack?”
“I grew out of it,” Zack said, his voice gentler. “And it’s time you did, too.”
Rafael blinked. “Until three years ago you were barely even speaking to me.”
Zack shrugged. “We were stubborn. Both of us. I said things I shouldn’t have, and so did you, but for crying out loud, Rafael, we were kids. I was eighteen years old. I didn’t have all the answers and neither did you.”
“But you didn’t leave.”
“So?” Zack’s laugh was self-derisive. “I screwed up plenty of other stuff. Let’s not forget that I appointed myself supreme ruler of the clan. Look how well that turned out.”
“You provided everything for them.”
“The words control freak come to mind.”
“You were scared.”
“So were you,” Zack pointed out. “I just decided I didn’t have to pay for it for the rest of my life.”
Rafael’s chest had started to hurt. “You don’t understand.”
“You want her,” his brother continued. “You love her. You’re dying without her.”
August wrapped her arms around Zack’s waist. “Can’t you work it out, Rafael?”
“It’s complicated,” he said.
Zack put one arm around August’s shoulders, but kept his gaze on his brother. “Of course it’s complicated. If it weren’t complicated, it wouldn’t be love.”
“Cora deserves a man she can depend on—someone who will be there for her. Her parents never were. She won’t settle for less, and I can’t be that person.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want you to,” Zack said. “Did you even bother to ask her what she wanted?”
He hadn’t of course. Self-centered jerk that he was, he’d simply made the decision for her. He reached for the envelope on the coffee table. “Just tell me whether or not this thing guarantees she’ll get the money if I find the Isabela.”
“She will,” Zack told him, “but I’ll bet you every cent I’ve got that the money isn’t what she wants.”
Rafael swept the envelope up. “It’s all I’ve got to give,” he said. “I’ve got to be onboard at five-thirty tomorrow morning. Thanks for looking at this.” And he left without another word.
CORA LIFTED her face to the sun and inhaled a great breath of the fresh, salt-laden air. Ocean spray slapped her face. The wind whipped her newly cut hair against her cheeks. There was a bite in the breeze. The Caribbean waters glimmered a clear, aqua blue beneath a cloudless sky. The afternoon sunlight reflected off the white beaches in a blinding glare. How in the world, she wondered, had she lived this long without experienci
ng the pure rush of adrenaline that was making her skin tingle and her pulse race?
She should have tried a little recklessness a long time ago. There was something unbelievably liberating about it. Another thing she’d have to thank Rafael for when she saw him.
Cora pulled up the zipper on her windbreaker and made her way along the teak deck of the sloop that cut across the shallow waters of the bay. A few minutes more, and she’d be face-to-face with the biggest decision of her life. It should have scared her to death. And once, it might have. But today, under an infinite canopy of azure sky, it merely increased the current of energy that hummed beneath her skin. For too long, she realized, she’d made decisions based on fear of regret. She’d wasted so much time fearing regret that she’d missed the chance to embrace everything life could offer her.
Rafael had taught her that a life lived in fear was a life half-lived. And he’d made the idea completely intolerable. She could never go back, no matter what happened in the next few hours. Besides, she thought with a smile, if he said no, she’d strip him bare and torture him with kisses until he surrendered.
Cora reached the control center where her Antiguan guide was piloting the swift sloop through the narrow channels and inlets of the cove waters. She leaned against the railing. “How much longer?”
He kept his gaze focused on the water. “Hard to say. Your man has exclusive rights to these waters. His territory is large.”
Her man, she thought with a satisfied smirk. She liked the sound of that.
RAFAEL BRACED his feet apart as his ship rode the swells of the Caribbean. Above his head, wind whistled through the rigging as the canvas sails billowed. The masts creaked, and water slapped the hull. Unlike most of his colleagues, Rafael had decided long ago that he preferred a schooner to the clunky, mechanized expedition crafts. Experiencing the sea in the same type of ship as his quarry gave him an edge. Normally he found the sights and scents and feel of the sea exhilarating. Lately, however, even the thrill of knowing he was on the brink of a new discovery failed to lift his mood. In the past few days, he’d managed to alienate most of his crew. At least, he thought wryly, the crew had prior experience with him. They were giving him a wide berth, but they didn’t look petrified like the two research assistants he’d hired for this expedition. This morning, he’d hesitated too long before responding to a question, and Charlie Radigan, the twenty-year-old oceanology student who was responsible for mapping the changes in the currents and water temperatures, had practically crumbled.
Now the poor kid was approaching him with a look of stark terror. Deliberately Rafael removed the scowl from his face. “What’s up, Charlie? Find something?”
The young man shook his head. “No, Professor, but, uh, I thought you should know that there’s a boat bearing down on us.”
The scowl was back. He’d lobbied hard for exclusive rights to this cape and the tidal waters that surrounded it. The largest craft within a five-mile radius should be no more than the occasional fishing skiff. “Where?” he snapped.
“Starboard.”
Rafael shouldered past the student and stalked toward the front of the ship. Sure enough, a racing sloop was sluicing through the water at a hell-for-leather pace.
CORA CAUGHT her first glimpse of the sails, and her heart skipped a beat. She wondered if Abigail had felt this way when the Isabela had crested the horizon. Goose bumps skittered along the surface of her skin. Her Antiguan captain gave her a toothless grin as he pointed to Rafael’s ship. “There it is, lady. We’ll have trouble catching it if he doesn’t pull in his sails.”
Cora moved to the prow and leaned forward, straining her eyes for a glimpse of Rafael on the deck of the schooner. His ship was fast, she realized, but the small sloop was faster. She drummed her fingers on the railing. Soon. Very, very soon.
RAFAEL GRITTED his teeth in frustration, then gave the order to trim the sails. It was probably a couple of tourists out for a leisurely sail. He might as well confront them before they did something stupid—like ram the hull of his multimillion-dollar floating research laboratory. “Bring me a glass, will you, Charlie?”
“Sure, sir,” the young man said, racing off to fulfill the request—obviously, Rafael thought, poor Charlie couldn’t wait to get away from him.
Charlie returned with the spyglass. Rafael took it without comment and held it to his good eye. What he saw made him swear so loud Charlie nearly toppled over board.
Cora was leaning across the prow of the ship, headed straight for them.
THE MINUTES DRAGGED BY until, finally her ship drew close enough to his so she could see him standing on the deck. He was glaring at her, she noted. And he looked adorable. His jeans hugged his lean hips. His shirt billowed in the breeze, and his dark hair whipped against the hard planes of his face. She ached to touch him. In the weeks since he’d left, she’d missed him more every day, but now, with him less than two hundred feet away, she felt her heart leap in sheer joy.
“WHAT THE HELL are you doing?” he bellowed as her sloop pulled alongside. Cora had the gall to grin at him.
“Hi!” she yelled. “How are you?”
Lord, the woman was insane. “I was fine until I realized you were trying to kill me. Tell your captain to pull off. We’re going to collide.”
Cora laughed. It lit her face and twisted his guts into knots. “Sorry, can’t do that,” she called back. She was running along the deck toward the low point on the railing. “But I am coming over,” she announced.
He was sure he hadn’t heard her correctly. Whatever Cora was doing here in the middle of the Caribbean, she wasn’t stupid enough to…He saw her begin to prepare the ropes and hooks that would link her craft to his and felt the blood drain from his face. Rafael stalked toward her, torn between incredulity and undiluted terror. “Cora,” he said, holding out a hand. “Just hold on.”
The schooner and sloop were so close now he considered grabbing the sloop’s railing. Briefly he contemplated the possibility of vaulting himself across the expanse. Cora gave him a bright smile and shook her head. “You’re not talking me out of this.”
Most of his crew, he noted absently, was gathering on the deck to watch the evolving spectacle. He glowered at the man behind the wheel of her sloop. “Pull away,” he shouted. “Now.”
The man didn’t respond. Cora had most of the ropes uncoiled. “It’s no use,” she told him. “I paid him well enough to make sure you wouldn’t intimidate him.”
“Dammit, Cora!”
She shook her head and started making knots in the end of the rope that belonged in the Girl Guide hall of fame. She tossed the first grappling hook onto his deck. When one of his crew hurried to secure it, Rafael glared at him. Cora tossed another rope. “You’re not talking me out of this,” she said. “I’m coming over.”
He swore. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No. I’m trying to get your attention.” The only other crew member on her ship—a lanky fifteen-year-old who was obviously too besotted with Cora to know she was about to get herself killed—started to extend the bracketed gangplank across the railings. He lashed Cora’s side in place, then waited for Rafael’s crew to secure the other end.
Cora took a step toward the makeshift bridge, and Rafael’s knees nearly buckled. “Cora, dammit, will you listen to me?”
“For the rest of my life,” she assured him. “All you have to do is catch me first.”
He might have sworn at her. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he’d never felt anything even remotely like the stark terror that ripped through him when Cora levered herself onto the rail of that ship and started across the gangplank. He clenched his hands into fists. “I swear, if you don’t go back—”
“Oh, stop. You wouldn’t let me fall and you know it.” She gave him a knowing look, then started across. When she was standing above the water, with both crafts moving swiftly, he realized he had stopped breathing. His last thought before she collided with him was that if she surviv
ed this fool stunt, he was going to strangle her.
The force of the impact sent them both tumbling into a pile of life jackets. He felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush. He couldn’t decide whether the laughter and applause of his crew was louder than the hammering of his heart, but he crushed her to him and closed his eyes to blot out the nightmare.
Cora was struggling to breathe. The impact had knocked the breath from her, and he was holding her so tightly she thought he might have cracked one of her ribs. When she tried to free herself, an unexpected set of twinges and aches made her wince. Rafael was swearing at her, but the severity of the words was completely overshadowed by the rough yet tender way his hands were running over her body. “What’s broken?” he demanded.
She laid her head on his chest. “Well, for a while, I thought it was my heart.”
“Then we’re even,” he muttered. His voice sounded gravelly. “Because I think you just gave me my first coronary.”
She choked out a laugh. His hold tightened.
“Hey, Rafael,” yelled one of his crew, “you gonna lie around all day, or are we gonna find the Isabela?”
“We’re drawing a crowd,” Cora told him.
He groaned and rolled to his side. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet. His crew made a few ribald comments. He barked a couple of orders, which drew irreverent shouts of laughter. A glance at the railing told him his crew had already unlashed the gangplank and sent it back to the now fleeing sloop. Irritably he realized he would never have the chance to give that jerk a piece of his mind for putting Cora in that kind of danger. Tightening his grip on her fingers, he pulled her along behind him. “Come with me.”
He led her belowdecks and into his cabin. He didn’t stop until he’d slammed the bolt home on the door and turned to face her. He was torn between a desire to kiss her senseless and holler at her until she promised him she’d never do something like that again. “Are you—”
Cora interrupted him by laying a hand on his chest. “Rafael—”
“You could have been killed,” he said harshly.