by Zoe York
“Did I hear that right last night? You lived in Ballybeg when you were a kid?” Her tone was hesitant—gentle, even.
Dex hesitated before answering. “I lived here until I was six.”
“You moved to Dublin after your parents died?”
“Yeah, that’s right. This is my first time coming back.” But it wouldn’t be his last, not if Seán decided to settle here. Dex rubbed his freshly shaven chin. How did he feel about that? He wasn’t certain. Being four years younger than his brother, his recollection of their parents’ murder-suicide wasn’t as sharp as Seán’s. In general, memories of his parents were hazy, and he suspected imagination and reality had blurred during the last twenty-five years, leaving him uncertain of their reliability.
Katy, thankfully, picked up on his reluctance to dwell on his past and didn’t pry. She knew the whole sordid story anyway, or as much as he’d cared to share. “You never said much about Seán when we were together yet you seem to get along well.”
He shrugged. “I love him but we don’t have the same kind of relationship you have with Liam. After our parents died, we were split up and sent to different relatives. Living apart for so much of our childhood took its toll.”
“I can’t imagine going a day without emailing or messaging my brother,” Katy said wistfully. “Even when Liam’s deployed, we stay in touch as often as possible.”
“Is he still a Navy SEAL?”
“For the moment. He’s planning to move into the private security sector within the next few months.”
“Good for him.” He’d always liked Liam Ryan and regarded him as a friend. Shame they weren’t destined to become brothers-in-law.
“You still writing the never-ending novel?” Katy asked with a teasing lilt to her voice.
Heat burned a trail up Dex’s cheeks. “Still working on it.” Slowly…amid much soul-searching and writer’s block.
“Dude, you gotta sit your butt in the chair and finish it. I liked the parts you showed me. Who better to pen a thriller about treasure hunters than a rogue archaeologist?”
“It’s on my to-do list,” he muttered. “Real life keeps intervening.”
“Intervening in the form of…interesting…expeditions?” she asked in a coy tone.
Oh, boy. She definitely knew about the Fire and Ice Necklaces.
He schooled his features into a neutral expression. “I find underwater exploration fascinating.”
She roared laughing. “Of course you do, Fitzgerald. On a more serious note, who else is on the expedition? Apart from you, me, Rick, and Mickey Lawlor?”
Dex considered a moment, recalling his email exchange with Rick. “I was a last-minute addition to the team and I’m not up on all the details. I know Rick mentioned your old housemate Bill O’Brien was one of the underwater archaeologists. He’s also hired a technical diving expert named Mark Moore to look after our equipment and help plan the dives.”
“And I know he’s hired an Oxford academic called Jack Huntington who specializes in wrecks dating from the First World War,” Katy added. “I’ve never met the man in person but we exchanged emails when I was doing research for my doctoral thesis.”
When Dex swung the van into Patrick Street, Ballybeg’s main thoroughfare, Katy strained forward in her seat. “This place is picture-book pretty.”
“Pictures can be deceiving,” he said with emphasis, letting the notion linger. He was still hurt that she’d freaked out about a few innocent Facebook photos. In the two years they’d been together, he hadn’t once strayed. Hadn’t even contemplated it, despite ample opportunity during their frequent separations in various parts of the globe.
Why would he want to cheat on a beautiful woman like Katy? If it hadn’t been for her damned insecurity and determination that every man was a cheating bastard like her father, maybe they’d still be together.
“Sometimes pictures tell a thousand words,” she retorted, glaring at him.
He sighed and pulled into a free parking space by the harbor. This wasn’t the time to have this conversation. Tonight, maybe. He’d see if MacCarthy’s pub was still around and ask her to join him for a pint.
“The boat Rick’s rented is over there,” he said when they got out of the car. He pointed to a generous sailboat with a cheerful green stripe down the side on which the name Neptune was emblazoned in red.
Katy whistled. “Nice boat. A hell of a lot better than the heap of crap he rented the time we dove off Valencia.”
“More funds.” Dex scanned the water. “The Irish government and a couple of private backers kicked in a sizeable sum. It won’t suffice for a long dive, but it’s enough to cover good equipment for a couple of weeks. If the weather holds, we’ll get in a few dives.”
“I hope so. I hate having to cancel a dive at the last second.”
“Safety first, cupcake. You know that.”
Their gazes clashed. For a millisecond, her eyes reflected the tenderness he still felt for her. Then the shutters slammed down.
“I’m not your goddamn cupcake. You lost the right to call me that the moment you got on that plane.”
The plane in question had been bound for Indonesia, and his fellow passenger was none other than his companion in the infamous Facebook photos. “Cut the melodrama and get moving,” he said in a harder tone than he’d intended.
Her death glance pierced his soul and sent his already tumultuous emotions into a tailspin.
They lugged their gear down the pier. Even sweating and weighed down by equipment, Katy managed to look adorable. Damn shame they were destined to be adversaries on this expedition.
Dex cast an experienced eye over Katy’s cameras and dive equipment. They were state-of-the-art and came with a price tag that was way beyond her academic’s salary. Given the token payment they were all receiving to take part in this expedition, someone had to be bankrolling her on the side. Just as I have a secret patron in the form of James Taylor.
Her eyes met his, and he was momentarily lost in their amber depths. She was sexy as hell with her pert nose, cleft chin, and rosebud lips that begged to be kissed. And her scent…she still wore the same fresh, almost masculine, perfume that never failed to give him a hard-on if she strayed too close. Right now, they were practically nose-to-nose.
She had to be here in pursuit of the Vanderbilt jewels. If Dex had a nose for hidden loot, it called Katy like a beacon. The adrenalin rush, the sense of living on the precipice of earth and sea, of right and wrong, was what had drawn them together in the first place. It was also what had torn them apart.
“Why are you staring at me so intently?” Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.
His gaze dropped to her breasts. In the early morning chill, her nipples were outlined against the fabric of her T-shirt. “Just admiring the view.”
“Hey, get your arses moving,” shouted a gruff male voice. “We want to cast off some time this morning.”
Rick Nulty was waiting for them by the side of the boat. With his grizzly beard and wiry gray hair, he resembled the quintessential mad professor. Which he had been in a previous life. A skilled underwater archaeologist specializing in shipwrecks of the British Isles, Rick had been Dex’s supervisor at university and had recommended him for the position he later held with the National Monuments Department. Rick was also the first person to spark Dex’s interest in finds of dubious legality. In short, Rick Nulty was a treasure hunter extraordinaire and Dex was his protégé.
He had taken his academic work seriously and was passionate about his subject, but the lure of hidden treasure and its monetary value persuaded him to ditch formal academia and go rogue. While universities regarded him and Rick as sellouts, they were still respectable enough to be hired by governments and private investors.
Hence his place on the Lusitania expedition. The moment Rick had relayed the tale of the Fire and Ice Necklaces, he had been hooked. The adrenalin spike of a dive couldn’t be recreated on land, but the buzz of
potential loot certainly could.
Rick ambled down the gangplank, beaming, and clapped Dex on the back. “Good to see you, mate.” He turned to Katy and extended a hand. “Katy.”
Katy accepted the handshake with ill-disguised distaste. She’d never been fond of Dex’s boss—which made her decision to participate in this expedition all the more suspicious.
“Why did you room us together?” she demanded in her characteristic unfiltered fashion.
Rick’s grin was unrepentant. “Sorry, Katy. I forgot you two broke up. Besides, you and Dex were the last to join the expedition. I had to scramble to find you a place to stay.”
Katy’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth as if to say more.
Aw, hell. He’d have to intervene. Katy antagonizing Rick on the first day of the expedition wouldn’t be wise.
“How many of us are there?” he asked his boss.
“Including the skipper, there’s nine of us altogether. With a wreck site as large as this one, we’ll have to split up and work in teams to maximize the exploration time.”
“Hence the need for two underwater photographers,” Katy added.
“Exactly.” The older man gestured to the gangplank. “Come on board and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.”
Five people were gathered on the ship’s deck, surrounded by high-tech diving equipment. Rick nodded to a ruddy man of about fifty. “This is our skipper, Con Driscoll—”
Driscoll’s clammy handshake had Dex itching to wipe his palm on his trousers.
“—and you already know Mickey and Bill.”
Bill eyed Dex warily and inclined his neck in a stiff nod. The tall man was Katy’s old friend and he’d never warmed to Dex.
He was about to greet Mickey when the door leading up to the deck opened to reveal a buxom blonde. As she sashayed toward them, her scarlet lips widened into a catlike smirk. Dex stifled a groan.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Katy muttered beside him.
Moira Tierney. A pre-Katy one-night stand and the woman Katy was convinced he’d left her for. He swore beneath his breath. This expedition was shaping up to be a colorful experience, that was for damn sure.
— FOUR —
Katy heaved an internal groan. Seriously? Dex and Moira were part of this expedition? Her life was rapidly turning into a joke. Any moment now, a reality TV host would leap out with a video camera and tell her she’d been punked.
Goddamn. She wanted to retrace her steps back down the gangplank, but there was the not-so-small problem of money. The basic fee she’d pocketed from the mysterious Mr. Devon had been substantial and most of it had gone to her mother. If she backed out of the mission now, she’d have to reimburse him the entire amount.
At the sight of Moira gliding down the deck toward them, Katy recoiled. Even wearing a diving suit and carrying bulky equipment, the other woman managed to look like a Playboy model. Whenever she was around Moira, Katy was painfully aware of her own barely there boobs.
“Dex, darling.” Moira treated him to a lingering kiss on the cheek, as close to his mouth as she dared. Bitch. She had to know it would get under Katy’s skin, even after all these months. “And Katy,” she said in a drawl and flavored the greeting with a smirk.
“Moira.” She didn’t feel the need to elaborate, either by word, deed, or facial expression. Unless the other woman had undergone a personality transplant over the past few months, they’d be butting heads before long. No need to accelerate the inevitable.
Bill and Mickey both greeted her warmly.
“I hear you’re Dr. Ryan now,” Mickey said, a broad smile splitting his weather-beaten face. “Well done.”
“I hear you’re a dad again,” she said, returning his hearty handshake. “Congratulations.”
Bill grabbed her up in a bear hug. “Good to see you, Katy.”
“You, too, big guy.” She and the tall man went way back. When Katy had first arrived in Dublin to study at Trinity College, he’d been one of her housemates. It had been Bill who’d first introduced her to Dex one Guinness-soaked St. Patrick’s Day.
Her attention strayed to the two other members of the expedition team. They were strangers, but she knew them by reputation. A millisecond—and a handshake that lasted a second too long—was all it took to sum up the handsome, dark-haired Mark as a flirt.
Jack, the Englishman, was quieter and more reserved, but she felt his solemn gaze observing her closely. His boyishly floppy hair and glasses reminded her of a blond Harry Potter.
“Dr. Ryan,” he said in his crisp English accent. “Lovely to finally meet you.”
“Thanks for answering all my research questions.”
A small smile broke through his formal expression. “My pleasure.”
After they’d cast off and were powering away from the Irish coast and out into the gray-green expanse of water, Rick gathered them in a circle. “Okay, people. Let’s discuss today’s dive.” He spread a map of the wreck site on a table and secured it in place with magnets. “We’ll work in two teams of three with two people as backup on the boat.” He jabbed a finger at the map of the wreck site. “Moira and Mickey will dive with me down to the bow area, and Katy, Dex, and Jack will head toward the stern. It’s low tide, so we’ll be saved a few meters’ dive time. We’ll stay under for three hours, and then head back to the surface. You each have your areas to map and a list of artifact types we have a permit to bring to the surface. Everything else must be left untouched. Any questions?”
“Yeah, I have one,” Moira said, fawn eyes wide. “What happens if we come across a mine?”
Katy snorted, earning her a glare from the other woman. “Swim like fuck in the other direction.”
Dex shot her a warning look, and she resisted the urge to flip him the finger.
“I know you haven’t participated in a dive in an area where submarines were active during the two world wars,” Rick said soothingly, in a far calmer tone of voice than Katy had ever heard him use before. “Most of the explosives are harmless. There’s always a lingering risk, though, so it pays to be careful. If you find one, tell me and I’ll check it for you.”
Moira batted her eyelashes. “Thanks, Rick. I appreciate it.”
Jeez. Could the woman make it more obvious that she was screwing the boss? Out of an instinct borne from years of intimacy, Katy turned to Dex and rolled her eyes. Shoulders heaving and his lips twitching, he suddenly found his worn deck shoes fascinating.
Ha. Served him right for being dumb enough to become one of Moira’s conquests.
“I have a question,” Katy said. “Why are we diving in groups of three? Why not in pairs? Aren’t we following the buddy system?”
Impatience flickered across Rick’s features before he could disguise it. “We only have money to cover two weeks on this expedition and we have to cram in as many dives as possible. It makes sense for more people to cover a larger area at once, even if that means straying from the rules.”
Okay, then. Her suspicion that Dex and Rick knew about the Fire and Ice Necklaces crystallized into certainty. The only reason for Rick to be that desperate to cover as much ground as possible over the next couple of weeks was if he wanted to maximize his and Dex’s chance of finding the jewels—and minimize the likelihood of another team member noticing one of them putting the necklaces into a salvage bag. Well, three could play at that game.
Katy scanned the list of artifacts they were officially permitted to salvage and her mind shifted from bemusement to consummate professionalism. The list included passengers’ belongings, small items from the ship’s inventory such as plates, and other items with the Cunard Line logo. They did not have permission to remove any parts of the ship or its furnishings. If they found something of interest, they would have to photograph it and apply for permission to salvage that particular artifact.
Shoving the list into her pocket, Katy moved to her backpack and diving gear. She inhaled deeply, relishing the salty air. Whatev
er emotional mayhem this expedition threw at her, she was determined to have fun. Humming a tune of her own invention, she opened her backpack and removed her cameras. Stuck to one of them was a typewritten note.
Watch your back.
An icy sensation froze her limbs. What the fuck? Was the note a threat or a warning? Katy cast a furtive glance around the deck, but everyone was busy preparing for the dive.
She pressed a fingertip to her forehead. Who had been near her backpack? A cold dread snaked down her spine. Dex was the obvious answer. They were sharing an apartment and she’d been out for at least twenty minutes buying breakfast. But an anonymous note wasn’t Dex’s style. If he wanted to communicate something, even a threat, he’d come straight out and say it to her face.
A note was too subtle for Moira. What about Bill? Could he have slipped a warning into her backpack? She ran through the remaining people on the boat but came up blank. That one of them had put the note in her backpack was certain. Which one and why was the mystery. Hot damn. Between a vindictive ex-girlfriend, potential spies, and a missing jewelry plot straight out of a movie, this expedition was turning into a farce.
The note and its implications put a dampener on her excitement over seeing the Lusitania for the first time. She forced air into her lungs and squeezed her eyes shut. She needed to focus. A distracted diver was a danger to herself and others.
For the remainder of the journey out to the wreck site, Katy suited up and checked her rebreather kit. The mix of gases would allow her to breathe under water and stay under longer than regular scuba equipment. The catch was that rebreathers—especially the closed circuit variety—were fiddly and required vigilant monitoring.
Mark cast an eye over Katy’s gear and nodded in approval. “You’re good to go, Dr. Ryan.”
“Katy, please.” Proud though she was of her newly acquired academic title, she preferred going by her first name.
The man treated her to a flirtatious wink and moved down the row to Dex, who was fiddling with his tank and scowling.