She looked for signs of forced entry, but found none. Well, Daniel was clever. Perhaps he had wormed his way into the confidence of the maintenance man and filched a key when he wasn't looking, or maybe he had picked the lock. Alix wouldn't put anything past him.
She was glad that she had left the two precious rolls of microfilm in the safe in Ponce's office, and that she had secreted the biography of Captain Daré in a nondescript plastic bag beneath the makeup in her cosmetic case. Even though she was convinced that Daniel didn't know what he was looking for, she wouldn't have wanted him to come into possession of the information about El Primero de Mayo.
Sighing, Alix began setting her room to rights. More than likely Daniel had sacked her apartment to demonstrate to her that he could still dominate her, and the possibility that he might discover whatever he suspected she had found in the Maritime Museum had only spurred him on.
She was replacing the last of the dumped drawers when she heard a knock at the door.
"Alix?"
"Ponce!" she called in relief. She had first thought it might be Daniel, and she wasn't ready for a confrontation with him yet.
She threw the door open; Ponce stood there, a branch of honeysuckle in his hand.
"Once we've gone to sea, we'll miss its fragrance," he said, smiling down at her. "And besides, I wanted to see you with a spray of honeysuckle tucked behind your ear."
She went into his arms, inhaling the mixed scent of honeysuckle and skin. When she kissed his cheek she tasted the tang of salt.
"Let me guess—you've been at the dock checking on Minorcan," she said as he tore a cluster of flowers from the branch and wound them in her hair.
"Right," he said. "And what have you been doing this morning?" He stood back and regarded the effect of the honeysuckle in her hair, seeming to like what he saw.
"I've been shopping, then putting the apartment to rights." She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to tell Ponce about her unwelcome intruder. She turned away from him, weighing the situation in her mind.
The trashing of her apartment while they were maintaining secrecy about Minorcan's upcoming quest was certainly pertinent information that Ponce had a right to know, but she'd better decide how much she wanted to tell him after she judged his reaction. Somehow she could not bear—not yet, anyway—the thought of telling Ponce the whole truth about her and Daniel.
She hadn't forgotten the flicker of anger behind Ponce's eyes when she had confided in him how utterly brokenhearted she felt when the man she loved deserted her in Barcelona. It would adversely affect Ponce's own relationship with his newest crew member if he knew Daniel was that man. And she was beginning to feel embarrassed by Daniel, who after all had turned out to be so contemptible.
She took a deep breath. "Ponce—someone ransacked this place while I was out."
Ponce's expression grew serious. "A break-in?"
"I found no signs that anyone forced his way in. But whoever it was pulled everything out of my dresser drawers and closets."
"I'd be willing to bet that Luke Stallingrath is behind this," Ponce said angrily.
Alix said carefully, "I don't think so, Ponce. I believe I know who it was."
"You do? Then why don't we report it to the police?" He spoke sharply.
"I don't think it's a police matter. I think it was one of your crew members. Daniel Locke."
"Daniel Locke? The man I just hired?" Ponce's expression was incredulous.
She nodded. "I—I knew him once before. I don't really trust him."
"He came to me with excellent credentials," Ponce said.
"Daniel is a fine diver," she said. This, at least, was true. "We—dated for a while," she went on. "We didn't part on the best of terms." Her eyes met Ponce's. "I saw him the other day, and we had an unpleasant exchange. He may have trashed my apartment just to have the last word."
"Alix," said Ponce impatiently, "I can't have malicious behavior between members of my crew. Maybe I should get rid of this guy before we leave port."
"There's no proof that he did it and no time to check it out. It's only a suspicion, and as much as I'd like to see him go, we're still short a diver. I believe that Daniel will maintain a businesslike attitude aboard ship. You need him, Ponce." She was sure that Ponce wouldn't dispute this statement.
"But if his presence will make things difficult for you," he began.
Alix silenced him with a finger laid gently across his lips.
"Daniel means nothing to me. I haven't seen him in years. If he did the trashing, it was probably a spur-of-the-moment way to get even with me for my less than enthusiastic reaction to his announcement that he's going to be with us on Minorcan. Even if it isn't, I'm perfectly capable of ignoring him."
"You're sure?"
"Positive." She smiled up at him, hoping that her smile was reassuring.
Ponce relaxed and returned her smile, kissing her lightly on the tip of her nose. "All right. I do need Daniel's expertise, and absent of proof, we don't know that's who it was, especially with Stallingrath and his flunkies in the area. I don't have time to look for another crew member, anyway. We're sailing tomorrow."
"Wonderful!" she said, beaming up at him, loving him, and glad that they'd dispensed with the subject of Daniel without her having to reveal that their prior relationship had been anything more than casual.
Ponce seemed to have dismissed Daniel from his mind. He kissed her once more, then led her to the couch. They sat down and he took her hands in his, regarding her earnestly.
"It'll be different between us on board ship," he said gently.
"It's all right, Ponce. We can both handle our emotions."
"I try to run things on Minorcan with an even hand. I won't be able to show you favoritism or give you easier diving assignments."
"I understand. We'll be entirely circumspect."
"Will we?" Ponce was grinning at her, mischief in his eyes, the moment of seriousness over. Without warning he closed the gap between them, buried his face in the slope of her neck, pulled aside the thin top she wore and was savoring the taste of her skin.
"Ponce—"
"Reluctant, are you? Remember, we leave tomorrow. We'd better make good use of the time we have left."
Surrendering to it, letting the delicious feeling roll over her in waves, allowing her curves to fit naturally to his body, she murmured in happy assent, "We might as well."
And they did.
* * *
By seven-thirty the next morning, Alix was standing on the deck of Minorcan, watching the Castillo de San Marcos, the nation's oldest fort, recede in the distance as they cruised out of Matanzas Bay. The sea was a tranquil aquamarine, the sky shone with the pale blue luminosity of early morning, and Alix found the heady aroma of brine and machine oil on the ship strangely exhilarating.
She'd found a place at the bow, and she felt someone sidle up beside her as she let the wind ruffle her hair back from her face.
"Ready for excitement?"
She turned to find Daniel staring down at her with an expression that told her exactly what kind of excitement he had in mind.
"I'm not at all turned on by the thought of listening to sexual innuendoes for the rest of this voyage."
"So what does turn you on?" Daniel leaned on the railing beside her, boldly letting his elbow rest against hers.
She moved aside quickly, pointedly. "You're out of my life, Daniel. Let's keep it that way."
"Why? So you can continue your romance with Ponce Cabrera?"
"Leave Ponce out of this."
"I wouldn't put it past you to use your influence with him to get me fired."
She turned and stared at him, amazed. She wasn't about to tell Daniel that, in the interest of the mission, she had in fact kept Ponce from dismissing him.
"We're still short one diver as it is. You mind your business and I'll mind mine. That way we'll get along fine."
Daniel laughed bitterly. "Don't worry, Alix. It suits me
to play along with your game. I won't spill the beans to Ponce or anyone else that we were once the best of friends. As far as I'm concerned, we've just met."
His lip curled in sarcasm as he straightened and threw her a mock salute. "It was nice meeting you, babe," he said before he turned and strode away along the deck.
Alix's knuckles turned white as she gripped the railing and tried to keep a hold on her emotions. Any conversation with Daniel left her feeling limp as a rag, and an old, discarded rag at that.
It was important that she and Daniel get along, however, for the sake of the mission. She had come too close to her goal of succeeding in treasure salvage to let any unfortunate episode over Daniel upset the applecart. Thank goodness she had taken her emotions out of gear.
It was odd about that, she reflected as she stared out at the sea. Now that she had found herself capable of feeling happiness and joy with Ponce, had she opened the valve to her emotions so that she must also again feel hurt and sorrow about Daniel? He certainly had an uncanny ability to get under her skin.
She wasn't ready to feel those emotions again—she wouldn't allow herself to feel them. In fact, she'd label her whole experience with Daniel Private and Confidential, and she'd file it in her mental file under Finished Business. There. So much for Daniel Locke!
Later, when land was no longer in sight, she found Ponce on the bridge with Troll talking of the sub-bottom profiler and side-scan radar, both used to further pinpoint items to be salvaged after a wreck's target area is located. Ponce greeted her warmly, and the light in his eyes spoke of the night they had just spent together.
"I was telling Troll that I expect some consternation among members of the crew when we don't head south for the Keys," he told her. "Most of them are prepared to salvage Catalina."
"Does that mean trouble?"
"I don't think so. Some of the crew members have worked with me before, and they trust me. I'll tell them about El Primero when the time is right."
Troll spoke up. "Our pilot has flown his Beechcraft over the area where we think El Primero should be. An aerial photographer took photos. Nothing showed up."
Ponce clapped Troll on the back. "Don't worry, Troll—if it's out there, we'll find it." Ponce's confidence reassured Alix, who knew the importance to the crew's morale of finding the treasure ship without a lengthy search.
She left the men on the bridge studying the GPS and went to her own stateroom. It was on the same deck as Ponce's captain's quarters, above the dormitory-like crew's quarters on the deck below. Her stateroom was at the end of a corridor with five other identical rooms, these occupied by John Abbott and the four senior members of the board of directors—Stan, Tom, Vince, and Troll.
Alix's cabin on Minorcan would scarcely win any awards from House Beautiful, but it was what she had expected. Life aboard a converted minesweeper could only be described as spartan. A bunk, made up with a tightly tucked spread, a small locker to hold the few clothes she had brought, metal walls painted grayish-blue, a narrow but full-length mirror.
She unpacked her duffle, checked her camera in its underwater housing and peered out the tiny porthole at a small swatch of sea. They had picked up speed, and the scream of gulls as they followed the ship, perhaps hoping that it was a fishing vessel offering free handouts, made her smile in delight. The dream she had cherished for so long was coming true—they were on their way.
That evening they all sat around on deck listening to old sea stories from Troll. Troll's eyes, like two brown pennies, glowed in the light of the single lantern as he told tales of salvaging Santa Ana in the Keys; of ducats and doubloons; of the thick coral growth that had to be chipped away from everything that was brought up from the deep; of harassment by bands of men sent by Luke Stallingrath, who had been singularly determined that Santa Ana should be his. The tales whetted everyone's appetite for treasure—especially Alix's. She went to bed that night with a feeling of delightful optimism.
Ponce's optimism was tempered with a sense of responsibility for their mission. Just how seriously Ponce took the quest for El Primero de Mayo was underscored by his attitude the next morning. Dawn found him on deck barking out orders to crew and board members alike, whirling from task to task like a dervish. Decks had to be swabbed, minisubs readied, diving equipment checked.
Minorcan idled slowly in the water, a fact that did not go unnoticed by members of the crew, who began to exchange questioning glances. They knew that things were not moving along according to their expectations; by this time, if their mission were to salvage Santa Catalina, Minorcan would have been heading south for the Keys.
Alix's first priority that morning was to spend time with John Abbott, the marine archaeologist. She found him in his office, looking preoccupied and poring over descriptions of King Philip's jewels.
"Alix, do you realize how many pieces of jewelry King Philip commissioned for his reluctant bride?" John asked her, looking up from his papers.
She shook her head.
John pointed to a list. "Philip ordered skilled craftsmen from as far away as China to create jewelry especially for Elizabetta. One magnificent piece consists of two pearls in the form of an almond and weighs twenty-eight carats, with other pearls applied all around the sides. There are at least three gold rings, one set with a very beautiful emerald, and a pair of beaded gold cords, each holding thirty-eight pearls."
Alix picked up the list and read it. "I'm sure this jewelry was worth a fortune in those days, and I can well imagine what it would be worth now," she said. Just reading the list sent shivers of anticipation up her spine.
She looked up as Ponce entered the office. He appeared harried and impatient.
"I need someone to do a last-minute inspection of the shark-proof cages," he said.
"I will," volunteered Alix. It was the first time she had spoken face-to-face with Ponce that day, and her heart quickened at the sight of him in shorts, his muscular chest and shoulders bare.
Ponce nodded curtly and turned, obviously thinking about a number of things, none of which related to Alix. She followed him to the deck, where he showed her the yellow cages that would be lowered over the side in the event that divers had to work below on stationary tasks when sharks were known to be in the area.
Before there was a chance for conversation, a crew member hailed Ponce and he turned away. He hurried off, his attention needed for another matter.
Alix completed her inspection of the cages, but she felt left out. She knew that Ponce had important things to do, but it seemed as though he hadn't even acknowledged their personal relationship. Well, he had told her that their relationship would be different aboard ship, hadn't he? But his attitude left her feeling lonely and ignored.
That afternoon Minorcan began dragging a magnetometer, an instrument that could detect metal on the bottom of the ocean. Many of the crew stood about on deck, wondering in low voices what Ponce Cabrera could possibly be doing. Everyone knew that no significant treasure ship had ever gone down in these waters.
Uneasiness in the crew continued through dinner, and that night they all retired with their level of optimism much lower than it had been the night before. The mag hadn't turned up a trace of a ship on the ocean floor.
Alix lay in her narrow bunk, listening to the hushed murmur of the sea outside her porthole. She shifted uncomfortably beneath the light sheet. She didn't like the way the crew was reacting to the search, and she wished she could talk to Ponce about it.
He'd sensed the crew's mood, too. He had been irritable at dinner, cutting Troll off in midsentence when he disagreed with what Troll was saying, speaking in monosyllables to her. It was understandable, with all that he had on his mind, and yet...
She longed to fall asleep sheltered by his body, calmed by his presence. Finally she did sleep, but restlessly.
Days aboard Minorcan settled into a routine. They took turns cooking except for Ponce, who had enough responsibility without planning meals, and Troll, who declared an overwhe
lming dislike for anything to do with the kitchen.
"I'd rather swab decks than cook," he declared, so he was given an extra round of cleanup duty instead.
Meals were varied due to the number and background of the cooks. Good meals helped to lift the morale of the crew, who seemed to grow more dispirited with every passing day. One of the crew members, George Theopoulis, provided spicy Greek food, and Vince's specialty was a hearty fish stew. Alix's coffee was prized by everyone.
"We've never had anyone who could brew a decent pot of coffee before," John told her. "Even if you weren't a diver and photographer, you could have been hired solely on your coffee-making ability, believe me."
The long afternoons were spent dodging from shade to shade on the hot deck or napping below. In the evenings when the sun spread its last rays over the water, transforming it to molten gold, they would gather on deck, passing the time until dinner by playing cards or telling tales of treasure. Dinner had to be served in two sittings because of the small size of the table in the mess. After dinner and through the night there were uneventful watches, with two crew members taking shifts of four hours at a time.
Day after day they searched fruitlessly for an indication of a shipwreck. The only variable in those days of the doldrums was the sea. Some days were calm, with the water spreading out in all directions like a rippling sheet of glass. On other days the water roiled up beneath the ship, pitching it into troughs, carrying it over wave crests, and sending some of the crew below with acute cases of seasickness.
Even the most experienced sailors were not immune to this malady. Troll took himself below more than once.
"You're lucky," he told Alix after one of his worst bouts. They were sitting together on the wooden duckboards of the afterdeck. "Don't you ever get seasick?"
She shook her head.
"It always takes a couple of weeks for me to find my sea legs," he told her. "Still, now I know what my wife has been going through with her morning sickness. Seems to me that seasickness must be a lot like it."
The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series) Page 8