by Anna Hackett
She cleared her throat. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”
More Spanish spilled out of Mrs. Torres. She gestured at Diego.
He let out a breath. “Okay, okay, Ma. Now go.”
“Bye, Sloan.” Mrs. Torres’ smile was wide. She grabbed Teresa’s arm, and the two women waved as they headed down the ramp.
“What did she say?” Sloan hissed.
“We’ve been invited to dinner after we finish our job.”
“What?” she breathed.
Diego wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “My mama is planning to cook her world-famous chicken tostadas.”
“What?” Sloan said again. It was all she could manage. “I can’t have dinner with your family.”
He looked down at her. “You’re not going to disappoint my mama, are you?”
Sloan narrowed her gaze. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”
“Maybe. What are you going to do? Cuff me?” He nipped her lips. “I’m sorry we got interrupted earlier.”
She melted. “Me, too.”
“Want to get dressed before Bruno comes aboard?”
Eek. “Yes.” She wasn’t facing anyone else in a sheet. She darted off down belowdecks.
After a quick shower, Sloan pulled on fresh clothes. She was heading up to the deck when she felt the ship’s engines rumble to life. She found Diego on the bridge, pulling them out of the marina.
“We have everything?” she asked.
He nodded. “Ready to roll.”
As they hit the open ocean, he increased the speed. Sloan’s nerves were clanging. What if Silk Road had found the emerald? What if they were out there now, and they were forced into a confrontation? She chewed on the end of her nail. Maybe they should’ve waited for Dec, Darcy, and the others to arrive.
“Stay calm,” Diego said.
“I can’t.”
“What do you do when you’re waiting to make a bust? You must do something to stay in control?”
She felt heat in her cheeks. “I…uh, recite the lyrics to Broadway tunes in my head.”
He smiled. “You like musicals.”
“Yes. So? Lots of people do.”
“I always stopped and took a second to breathe in the smells. Cooking, vegetation, perfume. It helped to block out all the extraneous stuff and let me focus.”
Sloan breathed deep. “I smell you.” Musky male and the sea. And damned if her edginess didn’t ease a little.
“And I smell your delicious and distracting shampoo.”
“Distracting, huh?”
“Ever since I first laid eyes on you.”
She smiled at him. Her edginess didn’t disappear, but she felt more focused. She stood beside him, watching out the window as they neared the site.
“We’ve arrived,” he said.
Sloan leaned forward. There were no signs of any other boats in the area. Her shoulders relaxed.
Diego cut the engines. “Ready to dive?”
“Let’s do it.”
They fell into the routine they’d formed the other day. They helped each other into their dive gear, and soon were back in the water. They descended and moved back to the area where they’d found the small emerald.
Diego directed her into a search grid. As she swam, she tried to imagine what the captain’s cabin had looked like in its heyday. A grizzled man sitting behind a wooden desk, with his cabin boy bustling in and out. It was hard to believe that so little was left now—just rotted and encrusted ruins resting below the sea.
She spotted the gleam of something in the sand and hurried over. She pried up some rocks, and her heart gave a thump. She held up a chunky, gold cross on a thick chain.
It was stunning and she knew it would be worth a fortune. But it wasn’t the Emerald Butterfly.
Had it rested with the lost Incan artifact? Had they been locked together in the captain’s cabin?
Diego appeared, shaking out a small mesh bag. He held it out and she gently eased the necklace into it. He clipped it to her belt.
They kept searching, and next, Diego found a gold chalice. It gleamed dully in the water.
But no emerald.
Sloan lifted her head, scanning the azure water around them. Where are you?
“Just one more dive,” Sloan pleaded, already pulling her wet suit on.
They’d pulled up several gold artifacts from the wreck, and all of the pieces were now safely stored in the wet lab. Diego looked to the western horizon. It was still a few hours until sunset, but they were already losing the light.
“We’ll lose the light while we’re down there,” he said.
She shimmied her hips to get the wet suit on, and his gaze dropped to her body.
“We’ll make it a quick dive.” She winked. “And I promise you some naked sexual favors later.”
He cocked his head. “Agent McBride, are you bribing me?”
“Yep.” She grinned.
“Deal. But I get to pick which favors.” Dios, he was easy when it came to this woman. Being with Sloan was good. Beyond good. They worked well together, had smoking chemistry, and she made him smile.
Shaking his head, he pulled his gear on, and helped Sloan slide into her fresh tanks. After a quick kiss, they tumbled into the water.
They headed back to the search grid, and he was right, it wasn’t long before he could tell visibility was dropping.
They found a few more artifacts—mostly ceramic pieces. Diego held up an old clay smoking pipe and wondered if it had belonged to the Atocha’s captain. Had he puffed on this, contemplating where his ship would take them? Little had he known that a hurricane would send his ship and her treasure to the bottom of the sea.
Diego checked his dive watch. They didn’t have much longer before they needed to head back to the Nymph.
He watched Sloan digging carefully through the sand. Just beyond her, he saw movement in the murk, and stiffened. The sleek shadow of a shark sliced through the water. A reef shark, thankfully. It was bull sharks he hated running into the most. But as he spotted the reef shark darting closer, he saw this one was curious, and it was big.
And probably hungry.
With a flick of his fins, Diego moved closer to Sloan and pulled his spear gun off his belt. The shark swam closer, and Diego nudged Sloan. He held his palm upright in front of his face in the sign for shark.
She watched it and nodded. Just as she turned back to her search, the shark darted in close again, and bumped her.
She spun around, and Diego raised his spear gun. The animal was coming in aggressively.
Sloan didn’t panic or flail. No, she just moved back a little and stayed cool. Her fins did hit the sand, sending up a cloud.
The shark shot forward, and Diego fired the spear gun. Quickly, the reef shark reversed course and disappeared into the gloom.
Diego grabbed Sloan’s arm. Okay?
She held her hand up to signal back. Okay.
Then, she looked down, and started waving her arms.
At first, he was worried that the shark had hurt her, but then he saw her pointing. He looked down at the sand.
Her fins had dug a shallow hole, and resting in the center of it was a huge emerald.
Jesus, it was big. The Emerald Butterfly.
He waved at her, and she lowered down to the emerald. She lifted it reverently and held it in front of her. Through her mask, Diego could tell that she was moved by the moment.
This wasn’t just about treasure for Sloan.
Carefully, he held the mesh bag open, and she set the gem inside. They wasted no time ascending and climbing back aboard the Storm Nymph.
“Oh, God. Oh, God.” Sloan did a quick dance, pulling Diego close and smacking a kiss on his lips. She pulled the emerald out, holding it up. It was large and irregularly shaped. He could see the vague shape of the butterfly that had given it its name.
“Granddad won’t believe it!” She hugged the jewel to her chest. “It’s
been his dream all his life to find this.”
Diego wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. He turned her toward the setting sun. The entire horizon was painted a brilliant gold that bled out into an amazing orange. As they stood there, he realized he liked her here. On his deck, burning his lunch, sleeping in his bed.
Shit. He’d never wanted to keep a woman before. But Sloan—smart, tough, sexy Sloan who loved her grandfather—was one-of-a-kind.
She had Diego caught, and this was one net that he didn’t want to get out of.
Suddenly, something out on the water caught his eye. He jerked his head up.
Sloan stiffened. “What is it?”
He saw the outlines of the inflatable boats racing toward them.
“Fuck.” He grabbed Sloan’s hand and pulled her toward the bridge. They took the stairs two at a time.
Inside, he yanked out his binoculars. He held them up and got a closer look. Five boats, each one filled with four men. He handed the binoculars to Sloan.
She looked, her face turning hard. “Silk Road.”
With a nod, he turned and started the engines. He quickly turned the Storm Nymph, and built up her speed.
Sloan rested her hands on the console. “They’re faster than us.”
He nodded. “At least twice our top speed, maybe more.”
Her hands curled. “Then I guess there’ll be a firefight.”
Dios, this woman. “Weapons locker is over there.” He pointed to the far wall. “I’ll tell you the code.”
He shouted out the numbers, and watched as she opened the locker and studied his collection.
Diego touched his console and quickly tapped in a message to Declan. It looked like Treasure Hunter Security would be too late to help this time.
Sloan pulled out a rifle, checking it over.
“The emerald?” he asked.
She patted her pocket. “Zipped up safely.” She looked at him, her face set. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Seven
Diego heard Sloan firing on the incoming boats. He flicked on the external cameras, and watched the inflatable boats chasing after them. They were gaining.
Sloan fired again, and he saw one of the boats flip. Men tumbled into the water.
Four boats were still incoming.
Steps echoed outside and Sloan reappeared. “They’re almost on us.”
He nodded and stopped the Nymph. They slowed down and came to a stop. He watched her at the weapons locker, swapping out the rifle for two handguns. She shoved extra ammunition into her pockets.
“Plan?” she asked.
Diego grabbed his own weapons out of the locker. “Take out as many as we can, and then hijack a boat.”
She sucked in a shocked breath. “And leave the Nymph?”
It hurt. The thought of abandoning his baby hurt a lot.
But he had to get Sloan to safety, and that was more important.
“They don’t want the Nymph. I’ll come back for her.”
Sloan nodded and together they ducked out of the bridge. Darkness was falling as he led her out onto the deck and to a small alcove set into one of the equipment racks. They stopped there, hiding in the shadows.
It wasn’t long before they heard the whine of the engines on the inflatable boats. The sound cut off. Then Diego heard quiet, furtive movements across the deck.
Silk Road was aboard.
He nodded at Sloan, and a moment later, two figures slunk into view, completely unaware that Diego and Sloan were hiding there.
Diego held up a hand, waiting, waiting. Then he lunged forward and slammed into the first shadow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sloan go in low, kicking the second man’s knees out from under him.
They kept it quiet, subduing the men. Sloan shoved her attacker facedown onto the deck, and seconds later, she pulled out a roll of duct tape and zip ties. Diego shook his head, fighting a grin. Dios, she was something.
After binding the men’s ankles and wrists, and covering their mouths with tape, Diego dragged them both in behind some equipment where they wouldn’t be found.
Then he heard footsteps on the deck, and people heading down to the cabins below.
“Find them,” someone called out.
Diego motioned to Sloan, and they slipped into the shadows. She moved well and kept up with him, keeping her movements quiet.
They neared the railings on the starboard side of the ship, and Diego quickly ducked his head over. He saw the four inflatables tied up below, with no one aboard them. He nodded at her. There was a rope leading up to the railing, and he pointed at it, motioning for her to climb down.
She tucked her gun in the back of her shorts and climbed over the railing. She’d just grabbed on the rope and started down, when a big man appeared. “Hey!”
Diego rammed into the man. “Keep going.”
As he and the man wrestled, he saw Sloan shimmy out of view. Straining against the Silk Road thug, he gritted his teeth. Damn, he was a big sucker. Diego rammed a fist into the man’s gut, then grabbed him again as they slammed into the railing. It was a vicious struggle, and Diego took an elbow to the chest, which knocked the air out of him.
Grimacing, he held on. He shoved the guy and managed a punch to his jaw. A second later, he landed an uppercut to the man’s gut, and sent the thug staggering back against the railing.
Diego spun, ducking behind the man, and got an arm around his neck. Diego pulled back, putting all his weight into it, exerting pressure on the man’s windpipe.
The man struggled hard, but he was rapidly losing consciousness. Diego grimly held on, ignoring the aches from the hits the man had gotten in. Then the thug slumped over.
Diego dropped him and heard shouts nearby. Shit.
He looked over the railing and saw Sloan in one of the inflatables. She started the engine, waving at him. There was no time for him to climb down. Diego climbed up on the railing, took a breath, and leaped.
He landed in the boat and sent it rocking wildly. Sloan spun and coolly aimed her Glock up at the Nymph. She fired a few shots, and above, Diego heard shouts and swearing.
Then she turned and fired at the two closest inflatables. Bullets pinged off their engines. His smart woman was trying to sabotage them.
He quickly grabbed the tiller on their engine. “Hold on.”
She gripped a built-in handle, and he punched the accelerator. They sped away from the ship.
Diego glanced back, ignoring the sharp pang in his chest. He was abandoning his ship, but keeping Sloan safe. He watched several Silk Road men leaping into the other inflatables. Two of the boats tore away in pursuit.
Gunfire lit up the night. “Keep holding on!”
Sloan nodded, crouching down. He started swerving the boat, taking evasive maneuvers. Then she raised her gun and returned fire.
“Stay down!” he yelled.
She waved a hand at him. Suddenly, their engine coughed, and their speed reduced. Fuck. Their engine had been hit. It was still functioning, but it had been damaged.
The Silk Road boats were gaining on them. Spotlights from the boats cut through the night. Diego kept swerving and soon, he was weaving in and out of the other two boats, trying to stop him and Sloan being peppered with bullets.
One of the boats pulled up close beside them. Diego raised his gun and fired.
All of a sudden, a man leaped off and landed on their boat. Shit. The thug was half in half out of the boat, gripping the side.
Sloan reached him, and hammered his hand with the butt of her pistol. He roared at her, but she bent down, got her weight under him, and heaved.
The man fell overboard with a shout.
“You are one hell of a woman, Sloan McBride,” Diego yelled.
She grinned at him, but another barrage of gunfire had her ducking down.
Suddenly, Diego felt a burning pain on his left arm. The impact spun him away from the controls.
“Diego! You’re hit.”
He pushed back the pain, blinking through it. He looked into Sloan’s white face, and knew he was bleeding. Dammit. He slapped a hand over his seeping bicep.
Sloan yanked her shirt off, leaving her in just her bikini top. She pressed it to Diego’s shoulder, trying to control her churning stomach. Thankfully, the adrenaline pumping through her was helping her cope.
“Those bastards shot you,” she said between gritted teeth.
Silk Road had to be stopped, once and for all.
“Winged me. It’s fine.”
“It’s bleeding everywhere.” Which she was trying to ignore. For a second, she remembered Simon dying in that horrible, drug-riddled warehouse. “They shot you. Fucking Silk Road.” She wasn’t losing Diego.
Anger geysered up inside her like an eruption.
Diego’s lips quirked. “I’ve been shot before, Sloan. This just clipped me.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to arrest every single one of them for shooting my man.”
He gripped the controls and the boat swerved. One of the Silk Road boats shot past them.
Diego looked at her. “Your man?”
She tossed her head back. “Yes. Got a problem with that?”
He smiled. “No. No, I don’t.”
She gave him a nod, and quickly tied her shirt around his arm. Then she turned, raised her weapon, and took several shots at the closest boat.
It was then that their engine spluttered.
Diego’s smile dissolved. “Dammit, it’s about to die completely!”
Sloan scanned around, but she could see nothing but dark, open ocean. There was no help.
She felt the heavy weight of the Emerald Butterfly in her pocket. Silk Road would take it, kill her and Diego, and her granddad would die alone.
The engine died, and their boat drifted to a stop.
Grimly, Sloan reloaded her pistols. “They are not killing us.”
Diego lifted his own weapon and pulled her close.
Without the roar of the engine, she now heard the steady thwap thwap of helicopter rotors. She swiveled and saw the lights of an incoming chopper in the sky. Her stomach dropped. Damn, they were completely outgunned and outnumbered.
The two boats zoomed toward them, circling around. Diego yanked her in for a quick kiss.