Under the Surface

by Kira Sinclair

  Brian crowded into Loralei’s personal space, blocking out most of the small room.

  “Your dad would be furious if he knew you’d screwed Jackson Duchane’s brains out last night.”

  That got her attention. She dragged her focus back to the man in front of her. “How—”

  Brian spoke right over her. “He’s been stealing our clients for months, Loralei. Your father fired him. And you jumped into his damn bed...let him into your body.”

  His mouth curled with disgust. His eyes flashed as they scoured her up and down, as if she was suddenly covered in filth.

  Unease skittered beneath Loralei’s skin. It made her angry—at herself and Brian. “It’s none of your business who I sleep with.”

  “It is when you’re allowing your libido to overrule your brain and putting this salvage in jeopardy. Wake up, Loralei. He’s just using you.”

  Dread curled through her belly, making her skin tight and uncomfortable. Unwittingly, Brian had given voice to the tiny kernel of doubt she’d been trying to pretend didn’t exist. Why was Jackson spending so much time with her? Helping her crew? Was it really because he was a good guy—which was what her heart was telling her—or because he was maneuvering her...and getting great sex out of the situation to boot?

  She gave voice to the same arguments she’d been using inside her own head. “How is he using me, Brian? Our team found the cannon.”

  “And you told him all about it.”

  How did Brian know that? The unease creeping across her skin ballooned into full-fledged alarm. For the first time she realized they were alone in the small space. The only thing that kept her from total panic was the realization that several men probably occupied the rooms close by and would hear her scream if she absolutely had to.

  But she didn’t want to.

  Because Brian had been with her father forever. She’d known him most of her life. Hopefully, she was overreacting here. Letting her own heightened awareness and guilt breed something that wasn’t truly there.

  “What was the harm? He’ll know soon enough when we publicize the find. It was professional courtesy.”

  “It was pillow talk.”

  Rearing back, Brian let his hand fly, smacking it against the wall beside her head. Loralei cringed away from the impact, even if it was nothing more than a reverberation. He hadn’t intended to hit her. She knew that. But that didn’t stop the gasp of surprise from slipping through her parted lips.

  Brian’s eyes widened. His gaze chased from the point his hand pressed against the wall to her startled, frightened expression.

  “Loralei, I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

  He dropped his head, his forehead coming to rest against the wall beside her. He was close, close enough that she could feel his breath fluttering against her skin.

  How could the same sensation from Jackson send her blood racing while having Brian this close made her skin cold and clammy?

  She stood perfectly still, uncomfortably trapped and afraid of what a single movement might cause.

  “I just don’t want to see you make a mistake you’ll regret. Your father worked hard for this. He had dreams of leaving you the legacy of the Chimera. He knew he wasn’t a great father, but hoped providing some security for you would make all the sacrifices you were forced to endure growing up worth it. He hated Duchane. Would hate knowing that you’ve chosen him.”

  Slowly, Brian pushed away. His arms stiffened, putting a foot of space between them, although it didn’t much alleviate the uneasy feeling filling her.

  Then he raised his eyes, tortured and sad, to hers and said, “Especially when there’s another choice,” before walking away.

  She stood there, trembling, hands clasped beneath her chin in an effort to stop the motion. Her body sagged against the wall. Thank God it was there to hold her up.

  Brian’s words echoed through her head. They were words she’d wanted to hear all of her life. That her father had given a damn about her and understood exactly what his choices had done to her.

  But hearing them now wasn’t enough. Because they hadn’t come from her dad.

  The Chimera was screwing with her brain. Pulling her in too many different directions. She desperately wanted to find the ship. Not just for her father, but for herself.

  Brian was right about one thing. Being with Jackson complicated things.

  But not enough for her to walk away. Not now.

  Not yet.

  * * *

  JACKSON WAS RESTLESS, and not just because his own search for the Chimera had ground to a halt. No one could do anything while they waited for the tugboat to arrive and retrieve the injured Emily.

  Gripping the curved edges of his phone, Jackson said, “No, I don’t need you out here right now, Knox.” Hadn’t he said the same exact words to his other partner only a few days ago? He appreciated their enthusiasm for this project, but finding the Chimera was his baby.

  “Then what the hell is going on?” Knox asked. “Marcus said the whole team is sitting on their thumbs.”

  He was going to have a nice chat with Marcus.

  “The Chimera is my assignment. I know how to run my own goddamn ship.”

  “Apparently not. You’re wasting time and money, Jack. Trident is solid at the moment, but searching for the Chimera isn’t cheap.”

  Jackson knew that. He’d been a major part of all the work that had gone into raising the capital to fund this mission.

  “What would you have me do, Knox? Her ship was in danger of sinking. You think I should have watched them go down? Or maybe I should just dump them into their lifeboats and sail away without a second thought.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Jackson could just envision Knox. The other man was known for his laid-back, life-of-the-party attitude. But Jackson knew better. He was fully aware that the facade was intentional and hid the battle-toughened heart of a fourth-generation soldier.

  “Of course not,” he said, irritation swamping his voice. “No one’s saying that. But this woman... I’m worried about her influence over you.”

  Jackson bit back a growl. “You shouldn’t be.”

  “Loralei Lancaster isn’t a friend, Jackson.”

  “I’m fully aware of that.”

  Another long pause suggested Knox didn’t believe him. Jackson wasn’t sure he believed himself anymore.

  “The tug should be here soon. We’ll get back on track. And I’m close. I can feel her, Knox. I know she’s just waiting for us to find her.”

  “I hope so, Jack. It would suck if Lancaster beat us to her after everything we’ve put into finding the wreck.”

  Knox wasn’t wrong.

  And maybe as much as he hated the conversation, it was what Jackson needed to get his head back in the game.

  So, for the next several hours Jackson tried to forget Loralei was on the Amphitrite. But it was difficult, and that bothered him on several levels. He was used to being in control—of himself and the situation around him. It was clear he had almost none right now.

  Over the years Jackson had had his fair share of short-term flings. Not once in that time had he ever wanted more than what he’d had—days, weeks, on occasion months. Whenever it was over, he’d walked away without a second thought.

  He was beginning to worry that walking away from Loralei would be different. Maybe impossible.

  And that was a problem, because this couldn’t continue. Logically, he realized they had no future. There was a slim chance they might make it through the current situation without hating each other. But she would never want a life at sea, and he couldn’t imagine her waiting at home for him to drop by now and then—she’d had enough of that with her father.

  Pushing up from the chair he’d settled into, Jackson prowled out of the room. Maybe he’d just go grab a beer from the fridge. But as he passed a room several doors down, he couldn’t help but look inside. And what he saw caught his attention.

  His own g
oddamn research was spread out across the table. Current maps, a rendered drawing of the Chimera, cargo lists, passenger manifest. He stepped inside, looking closer. Hell, even his notes were there.

  He couldn’t decide if he was impressed Loralei had the guts to be so blatant or ready to throttle her. Maybe both. Anger and disbelief surged through him, but he made a valiant effort at checking them.

  Looking closer, he realized at some point Loralei must have taken his work and added to it.

  But before he could get a good look he heard a noise in the corridor. He had no idea why his first instinct was to hide. Maybe too many years working top-secret missions. It wasn’t as if she’d tried to conceal any of this stuff. It was spread out on his own ship.

  That still didn’t stop him from heading back into the hallway as quickly as possible.

  Loralei walked out of the galley, a mischievous grin on her face. An apron covered her tank top and tiny shorts, its ruffles skimming the tops of her bare thighs.

  “Where did you get that thing?” he asked. It was hot pink for heaven’s sake.

  She shrugged. “Apparently it was a gag one of your guys brought on board to torture someone on the team.”

  How did he not know about this? “I don’t think I want to hear that story.”

  Especially not when she looked delicious in it and he was currently harboring fantasies of her wearing nothing but it later.

  And this was the problem. The minute she was close, every other need, fear or want flew out the window, and all he could think about was her. Not just sex, although he’d take as much of that as possible. But her.

  Watching her laugh. Seeing the way her nose crinkled when she was upset or concentrating. The way, even in the face of her fear, she’d stood up in that boat so she could count her team and make sure everyone was okay.

  Dammit, Knox was right. He was in serious trouble.

  Loralei tossed him a saucy smile and crooked her finger at him. He was powerless to do anything but close the gap between them. Jackson didn’t stop until his arms were around her and she was sighing against his mouth.

  His eyes slid shut, allowing him to sink into the sensation of the kiss. Heat bubbled through his blood.

  “You smell like rosemary and garlic,” he murmured, pulling away.

  “I hope you like Italian. It isn’t much, what with supplies being limited.”

  He put a finger against her lips, silencing her words. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing. Thank you for cooking.”

  “It was the least I could do considering you’ve taken in my crew.” Her lips tipped upward. And suddenly Jackson wasn’t hungry at all. At least not for anything but her. If he had his way, he’d pick her up and take her back to his room. But she’d spent so much time that he refused to let it go to waste. Stepping out of her embrace, he put some space between them. But he slid his hand down her arm until their fingers twined together. “Lead the way.”

  She turned, giving him a delectable view of her ass, barely covered by the jagged edge of her torn jean shorts. Unable to stop himself, Jackson reached out and cupped her rear, letting his fingers slide beneath the fabric around her thigh.

  Loralei jumped and smacked a hand down over his roaming fingers, tossing a warning glare over her shoulder.

  “Behave. We’re not eating alone.”

  His entire world deflated. He’d had visions of Lady and the Tramp moments where he got to feed her bites of pasta and lick sauce off her mouth.

  They walked into the long dining room where both crews were already crowded around the tables. The air smelled amazing—tomatoes, onions, garlic and spices—almost as good as Loralei.

  Several of the men from her team sent him assessing stares.

  From across the room someone yelled, “You’ve done it now, Loralei. We all know you can cook. You’ll never get out of galley duty again.”

  She laughed, her head dropping back as her eyes twinkled. “That’s what you think, boys.”

  “Did you try her oatmeal raisin cookies?”

  “To die for!”

  “I didn’t get any,” Jackson murmured into her ear.

  “You got something better,” she whispered.

  The tension that had filled their first meal together had disappeared. The teams mingled together tonight. Everyone joined in the banter. Everyone except Brian. Tucked into a dark corner at a far table, the other man didn’t bother to hide his displeasure.

  Not that Jackson gave a damn. He wasn’t particularly enamored with the man himself. Turning away from Brian’s glare, he concentrated on Loralei.

  She dished out a plate, passing it to him before filling one for herself. He watched Loralei interact with the guys from both teams, treating everyone equally.

  What surprised him, but probably shouldn’t have, was that somehow Loralei had managed to fit right in. She’d become like everyone’s little sister. In a way, it reminded him of Kennedy and the guys she worked hard to keep in line whenever they were in port.

  The men ribbed Loralei. He loved the way her honey-toned skin flushed warm when the conversation verged on inappropriate. And the guys weren’t above dishing out some veiled zingers, specifically about the two of them.

  As they all settled in, everyone relaxed and began to accept the unusual situation, forgetting they were rivals fighting for the same treasure.

  Jackson scooted closer to Loralei, placing his hand at the small of her back as he leaned over to speak to the guy on her other side.

  She didn’t stop her conversation with Spike, the guy with the scraggly beard sitting across from her. He had to be fifty if he was a day, and the twinkle in his eyes told Jackson he had plenty of experience with trouble. What had a hard band tightening his chest was the way Loralei leaned into his body as she spoke to the other man.

  The gesture seemed instinctive, and because of that somehow it meant a hell of a lot more.

  He wanted that easiness. Had seen it between his father and stepmother, but never thought to find it for himself. Partly because he’d never bothered to stay with a woman long enough for them to become comfortable together.

  What floored him was how quickly it had come on with Loralei. He’d assumed that kind of thing took months and years to develop...not mere days. Especially not in the midst of everything they’d been fighting and experiencing.

  Or maybe that was why it had come on so quickly. Maybe saving her life had bonded them in an unexpected way. Loralei certainly wasn’t the first person he’d saved—although, she was a hell of a lot softer and more beautiful than the soldiers he’d rescued.

  Tossing him a soft smile, Loralei pushed up from the bench, throwing one leg over and then the other. He moved to follow her, but her hands on his shoulders pressed him back down.

  “Stay. I’ll be right back.”

  She disappeared through the closed door leading from the dining room into the galley. Even after the door closed, Jackson continued to stare at it, waiting for the moment she’d return.

  Which was probably why he didn’t notice Brian’s approach until the man was standing behind him.

  All around them, the men went silent. That more than anything clued Jackson in to what was happening.

  His body tightened, instinct kicking in a little late to the party. Damn, he’d been out of the Teams too long if a man like Brian could walk up to him without notice.

  He needed to get back to the gym and kick Asher’s ass for a refresher course.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Brian asked from behind him.

  Jackson spun on the bench to face the other man, but kept his seat. “Having dinner,” he responded with a negligent shrug.

  Brian stared at him out of hard, flat eyes. The guy was angry and spoiling for a fight.

  Damn. Loralei was going to be upset no matter how this ended.

  But his ego and integrity wouldn’t allow him to sit still and let the other man pound on him—verbally or physically.

  “With her. What d
o you think you’re doing with Loralei?”

  Jackson let a single eyebrow crook up. “Having dinner.”

  Brian growled low in his throat. He wrapped his fists into Jackson’s shirt and yanked, trying to pull him to his feet. Jackson let him, keeping his own hands at his sides. For now.

  Brian was out of his element, although that seemed to be the norm for the other man. He liked to talk and walk big, but didn’t have the skills or balls to back up the bluster. Which, in Jackson’s opinion, was how he’d gotten into trouble with the explosive charge months ago.

  “She isn’t a plaything, you asshole. She just lost her father. She’s alone and vulnerable, and you’re taking advantage of that.”

  He was doing no such thing. “No, she isn’t a plaything,” Jackson said. “She’s a beautiful woman who can take care of herself. She knows what—and who—she wants...and doesn’t want.”

  Brian’s eyes flashed fire. Apparently not the brightest thing to say if he’d hoped to defuse the situation. But his gut told him that wasn’t going to happen anyway, so...

  “Give her some damn credit, man. She’s not a little girl.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “I bet you are,” Jackson said.

  “Fuck you, man.”

  “No thanks,” Jackson taunted, a smile curling his lips. “You’re not my type.”

  Jackson ducked the first punch. Brian might as well have taken out a billboard he’d telegraphed his intentions so damn loud. And Jackson had never been the kind of man to stand still and give anyone a free shot, especially when they didn’t deserve it.

  Around them, several of the men jumped out of their seats. The back of his neck started tingling with warning. There were plenty of guys here who might take Brian’s side. And he had no doubt his own crew would back him up. That was exactly what he didn’t need, an all-out brawl between both crews.

  As much as it went against his nature, Jackson clenched his hands into fists and kept them by his sides. Giving in to what Brian wanted would feel good, but it wouldn’t be the smartest move right now—not for him or Loralei.