by Valerie Parv
In a pair of white pants and matching jacket over a nautical blue-and-white-striped top, she looked good enough to eat.
Making love with her was probably not the smartest thing he could have done, given her determination to avoid a relationship. But seeing her standing over him like an avenging angel, all he could think about was how soon they could be together again.
He forced the image out of his mind, although banishing it from the rest of him was more of a challenge. "Join me," he repeated, pushing a plastic chair out with his foot. He knew better than to get up and pull a chair out for any woman who was as angry as Serena looked. He was likely to get it slammed over his head.
She shrugged out of her jacket, revealing that the nautical top had only one sleeve. Her other shoulder was bare, he noticed with interest as she hung the jacket over the back of the chair and sat down. She even smiled and said thank you when Alice put a mug of latte in front of her. Once you'd drunk Alice's superlative coffee, you were hers for life, he knew.
He made a show of cracking a crab claw and digging out the succulent meat. "Sure you won't have some?"
"Is that smoked trout?"
"Mmm-hmm," he said around a mouthful of crab.
Without saying anything, she picked up a fork and broke off a piece of the trout, drizzled juice from a lemon quarter over it and forked the fish into her mouth. Her eyes nearly closed and her head tilted back as she savored the taste.
Alice, your food works better than any psychologist, he thought watching enjoyment overtake anger in Serena's expression.
Unfortunately not for long. She finished the trout and a good portion of the crab, then put the fork down. "You can't tell me you were so starved for seafood you had to sneak out of the castle without telling me?"
"Is it the sneaking or the not telling that bothers you the most?"
"You're impossible."
"So Alice was telling me before you arrived."
Serena looked around, her trained eye assessing the openness of the location and the fact that it was equally accessible by road and sea. "You shouldn't be here. It isn't safe."
"I was going stir-crazy in the castle. How many levels of Hawk Raider can a man master before giving in to the urge to throw the computer off the nearest battlement?"
"You can do other things on a computer besides play games."
"Name one."
His nearness made it hard to think logically. "I just know you can."
His eyes gleamed. "There, tell me you aren't getting stir-crazy yourself?"
She toyed with the handle of her coffee mug. "A little."
"At least while we were at Brett's place at Perla we were doing something."
Thinking of what they had been doing, she almost choked on her latte. "That was different."
The surge of heat staining her cheeks told Garth her thoughts were running along similar lines to his. Not much they could do about it at the castle, surrounded by servants. Another good reason to get away. He hated to think he had chosen the most obvious route out of the castle precisely so she would come after him.
He couldn't stop feeling glad that she had.
She was as transfixed by the moment as he was, remembering all they had shared at Perla and anticipating what might be to come. He heard her breathing quicken and felt his own keeping time. He was so aware of her that the commercial fishing dock faded into a blur of sound and movement.
Everything about her seemed exceptional: from the eager way she angled toward him unconsciously, to the luminous glow in her blue eyes framed by lashes of aspen gold. As he'd come to expect, she wore no makeup except a trace of strawberry-tinted lip gloss, tempting him to sample her mouth to see if taste corresponded to color.
She saw the moment when he wanted to kiss her. Desire whipped through her, as hot and forceful as a desert wind. For long seconds she wanted nothing so much as to yield to it. Having done so once, she knew she couldn't risk it again. Not and walk away from him heart whole when this was over.
"The best thing we can do is wait for the Hand to…er…show his hand," she said haltingly.
He shook his head as if he was also casting off a spell. "Nicely put, but inaccurate. There is something more I can do."
Her heart did a quick skipping beat. "Matt is keeping the investigation on the boil. I'm keeping you out of harm's way, or trying to while we wait for the test results. What else is there?"
"My parents' boat."
She let her narrowed gaze betray her confusion. "What about it?"
"You've convinced me that the explosion wasn't an accident."
She decided to play devil's advocate. "The police investigated the sinking of your parents' boat. There's no suggestion the explosion was caused by anything other than a fuel leak ignited by an electrical fault."
His mouth tightened into a grim line. "I wasn't the only eyewitness. The boat was known to be old and fallible. Nobody suspected foul play, not even me when I dived on the wreck the week after it happened. That doesn't mean we saw everything there was to see."
His expression didn't change, but she saw the quick sweep of pain in his gaze and touched his arm. "Going down there can't have been easy for you."
She felt his muscles jump under her fingers. "I needed to see the boat for myself, convince myself they were really gone."
The rawness in his tone tugged at her, more harrowing than if the experience had been her own. Her relationship with her parents was troubled, but she hadn't yet had to deal with losing them. Suddenly she saw how hard it was going to be. They were still far from seeing things eye-to-eye, but as long as they were alive she could cling to the hope that things would improve between them. Once they were gone, that hope disappeared forever.
"What do you expect to find that you didn't see the first time?" she forced herself to ask. She couldn't permit him to do it, but she wanted to know.
He toyed with her fingers, sending shivers arrowing all the way to her heart. "Some evidence to link the sinking with Carramer First and the rest of the conspiracy."
"David Junot," she said, blowing out a breath.
Garth's interest quickened. "What makes you think he's connected to my parents' deaths?"
"I have no proof, but he's connected to something, I'd swear to it," she stated. "This morning Matt Hayes told me that David Junot's mother had a longstanding affair with Roy Keer. Keer's relationship with Princess Aimee, his attack on her triggering the premature birth of her son, and also being involved with Dr. Junot's wife strike me as a few too many coincidences."
"I agree. You don't think David could be the missing heir, do you?"
She realized she had been relying on Garth's resemblance to the royal family, both in appearance and in the genetic trait they shared. "If he is, pity help the kingdom," she said. She stood up. "I'll call Matt and have him send us a recent photograph of David Junot." She cursed herself for not having requested one sooner.
"Do that. In the meantime I'm going diving."
"Not on your own, you're not."
He stopped. "You're welcome to come along."
Her blood chilled. It had been bad enough learning to dive in the sheltered waters off Nuee. She had satisfied herself she could do it, promising herself she would never have to do it again.
He was watching her face, and his own look softened. "Forget I suggested it," he said in a gravel voice. "You can stay in the boat and keep watch from the surface, make sure nothing happens to me. Fair enough?"
She felt her jaw firm. "No, it's not fair enough." If he could face visiting the wreck where his parents had died, she could find the strength to go with him. She had a good idea what it would cost him to go back there. He might not need a bodyguard but he was going to need a friend. "I'm coming with you all the way," she said.
"You don't have to."
"Don't give me all the reasons why not, or you'll talk me out of it."
"What do you think I'm trying to do?"
He cared, she thought as a glow
of triumph stole through her. He might want her to think that all they shared was sexual chemistry, but she read the truth in his gaze. What it meant for them she couldn't consider at this moment.
She stood up. "Let's go while I still have the nerve."
Chapter 12
"I thought your boat was laid up for repairs," she said when they reached the end of a sagging dock extending into the harbor.
"When I told the mechanic at the dry dock that I was calling from the castle, and told him to charge the repairs to Prince Lorne, miraculously they discovered they could have the boat ready this afternoon."
She laughed. "I'd like to see the prince's face when he gets the bill."
"I intend to pay it. I couldn't resist flexing a bit of royal muscle."
"This from someone who thinks Carramer should be a republic?"
"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the power of the castle while it's at my disposal."
He was in danger of falling under Prince Lorne's spell, she realized. It wouldn't be the first time she'd seen a die-hard republican change their opinion after meeting the charismatic monarch. And Garth had done much more than shake hands and exchange a few words of polite conversation. He was facing the possibility that he and Lorne could be brothers.
She began to think the country might be safe in Garth's hands after all, and wondered if Prince Lorne had already reached the same conclusion.
Garth's boat was more like a small barge, broad and flat, scarred at the waterline from encounters with dock pilings, but clean and well maintained. A weathered cabin sat nearly flush with the hull at the sides, with the wheelhouse sitting on top like a miniature second story. Beside the wheelhouse a skiff was neatly stowed upside down. She read the name Jessica in fading paint on the side of the boat.
He saw her noticing, correctly interpreting the jealousy she didn't want to feel. "The name came with the boat. Probably the previous owner's wife or daughter. I didn't see any reason to change it."
Able to think of a few, she decided her reaction was quite revealing enough. She feigned nonchalance as she studied the houseboat, as neat as any cottage, complete with chimney pipe from a potbellied stove. "It's charming," she said. Contrarily, for someone who hated being under the water, she liked being out in boats.
He grimaced. "No captain wants to hear his boat described as charming."
"It has little windows, doors, even a little veranda complete with patio furniture."
"You don't have to make it sound like a home for the seven dwarfs."
His growled response didn't fool her. He was pleased that she liked his boat. And she did. She only wished it wasn't quite so—compact. Reminding herself that they were here for a purpose didn't ease the restlessness she felt in his company. Being confined to a limited space together wasn't going to help.
Garth vaulted aboard, then took her hand and helped her to negotiate the narrow plank linking boat to shore. He steadied her with an arm around her waist while she adjusted to the sway. She told herself her heart was racing because of the challenge lying ahead.
The excitement pumping through her couldn't be blamed wholly on the coming dive. Garth held her close. The deck shifted subtly beneath her feet and she knew it would take only a slight move on her part to find herself in his embrace.
It wasn't where she needed to be, she told herself resolutely. Wanted to be, without a doubt. But was that sufficient reason to throw caution to the wind?
Having done so once, she had barely known a moment's peace since. She could practically feel her personal boundaries crumbling and was determined not to let Garth erode any more of her hard-won independence. As a teenager she had almost suffocated under the yoke of being everything to her parents, fighting free only after bitter struggle. Not even a man who left her breathless with wanting him could be allowed to take over where her parents had left off.
He turned away and prepared to cast off, his movements swift and assured.
Left alone, she felt perversely disappointed.
By the time they had cleared the dock, she had used her cell phone to call the castle and let the duty secretary at the R.P.D. command center know where they were.
As luck would have it Jarvis Reid was there and intercepted the call. Their paths hadn't crossed since she and Garth had returned to the castle. "Ah yes, your new assignment. How's it going?" Reid asked.
Like the rest of the division, he had been told only that Garth was Prince Lorne's guest and that she had been seconded to work with him on a special project for the monarch. The kidnapping and rescue of the Pascales couldn't be kept quiet, but Prince Lorne had ensured that the extent of her involvement wouldn't be made public. As far as anyone knew, the kidnapping had been motivated by ransom, and the rescue had been carried out by a team of navy DAREs who couldn't be identified for security reasons. Close enough, she thought, wondering what Reid would say if he knew the truth.
"Well enough," she said, giving nothing away. "Yours?"
"The preparations for the American president's visit are going like clockwork."
"Try not to miss me too much," she said sarcastically.
He chuckled down the line. "No one can take your place, Serena. I hope you'll agree to be my assistant after I'm appointed head of the Solano division."
Anger knifed through her but she refused to give Reid the satisfaction of baiting her. "Unless I get the job. Then you can be my assistant," she rejoined.
"The difference is I'm here, and you're there. Enjoy your harbor cruise with the prince's protégé."
"It's not a cruise, damn it. And Garth isn't…" But he'd already hung up.
Had she expected everything to fall apart because she wasn't in control? Annoyed with herself, she snapped the phone shut. Since returning to the castle she had heard that Jarvis Reid was doing a good job. Her job. If he kept it up he was virtually certain to be offered the promotion.
It could be argued that that was under normal circumstances, and these were anything but normal. Reid didn't know how close to disaster the kingdom hovered. If the DNA test proved conclusively that Garth could not be Lorne's older brother, Reid would never find out. She would have the monarch's gratitude for her help, and the file would be closed on a top-secret episode in Carramer's history.
It wasn't much consolation.
Her mood felt suddenly as choppy as the blue waves surging under the boat as Garth steered them away from the dock. She recognized that part of her discontent arose because she wasn't missing her work as much as she'd expected. After spending the past couple of years working hard for a promotion, this was a heck of a time to start wondering if she really wanted it. If not, then what?
She wasn't going to solve the problem now. Looking up, she saw puffs of white smoke from the diesel engine being shredded by the light breeze. She climbed the steep wooden stairs leading to the wheelhouse. Inside, the boat was more modern than the weathered exterior suggested. "Is that sonar?" she asked in surprise.
His answering look was wry. "What did you expect? A brass sextant and parchment star charts?"
"Of course not, but hardly something so state-of-the-art."
"Think of the side-scan sonar as my designer wardrobe."
She got the message. He preferred to spend his money on items that mattered more to him than appearance. Unlike her, was the irritating implication she couldn't help drawing. Coming on top of Jarvis Reid's taunt, she felt fury roll through her. It was all she could do not to launch herself at Garth and pound the smug expression off his handsome face with her fists. Except she doubted she would win the battle. Her throat dried at the thought of how he would choose to conquer her.
At the helm he looked more in his element than he had at the castle. His strong legs were braced easily against the rolling movement that had her grabbing for handholds every few minutes. His hands lightly caressed the wheel, the movements barely perceptible. Now he looked like a king, she thought. Neptune, ruling the waves.
He glanced at the sonar. "The O
nalos lies in fifty-seven feet of water between Wesley and Rocky Points opposite the entrance to Solander Creek."
"How will you know when you're in the right place?"
"I have a fix on where the boat went down. The sonar reads the bottom of the harbor. When we're in the general vicinity, I keep watch for an image that correlates to the size of the target."
His emotionless tone didn't conceal from her how harrowing the experience was for him. She could see it in the tightness of his mouth and the fine lines radiating from his eyes.
The report of the explosion and the ensuing investigation had been on the news, but the factual details couldn't reveal the anguish he must have felt when his parents' bodies were retrieved from the deep.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," she said, knowing how inadequate it sounded.
His shoulders lifted expressively. "No reason you should have been. You barely knew my parents. They didn't make friends easily. If it hadn't been for the media attention, the funeral would have been a spartan affair."
A chill swept through her as if she was walking across a grave, as in a way she was. She wrapped her arms around herself.
"If you're cold there's wet-weather gear in the cabin," he said.
Out on the open water the breeze was cooler, but she shook her head. "I'm okay."
She remained silent as Garth concentrated on steering and watching the sonar. After what seemed like an age, she felt the boat slow. Looking over his shoulder she saw an image rise on the small screen. "Is that it?"
In answer he throttled the boat back then gestured for her to take the helm. At her look of consternation, a wintry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "It's only for a second while I lower the anchor and throw out a guideline. Look around, there's nothing for you to hit."
She did and saw he was right. "Just tell me which button controls the brakes."
He went astern without bothering to dignify her feeble attempt at humor with an answer. Now that the moment of truth was here, she wondered if she could go through with this. It was one thing to learn to dive in a hotel swimming pool and gain her certification in the enclosed waters of a lagoon, but quite another to venture into the depths of the harbor among who-knew-what marine horrors.