Rick ran up. “Go, I’ve got them.” Rick hefted the poles.
The two of them ran back to the site. Rain fell in fat droplets wetting the wooden scaffold and making it slippery.
Dr. Fraser had organized Henry along with three other men from the dig. They heaved against the weight of the retrieval basket and frame, but none could find steady footing around the hole in order to lift it.
“Get back,” Quinn ordered. He motioned Rick forward. “Put them here between the basket and the frame on either side. We’ll use them like levers and shove the whole thing over.”
Rick nodded. He pushed the metal pipes in until they hit the solid stone of the steps and bracing his feet beside the hole, and with the help of one of the other men, pushed against it. Gordon, having abandoned the RV’s controls and the COM system, rushed forward to help Henry with the other pole.
Lightning struck the top of one of the monoliths setting off sparks. The men ducked again. Fraser swore.
Frustration and concern bubbled up inside Quinn’s chest and made his breathing labored. How was their air supply? They’d been down too long.
The metal frame squealed and tipped. As it hit the ground one side wobbled loose and fell away.
*****
Regan braced a knee atop the stairs as close to the opening as they dared. She rested a comforting hand on Dr. Arturo’s arm. Turning aside she rushed to switch the regulator out and replace the full-face mask with the one resting against the back of her neck. She took a quick breath from the regulator then offered it to Dr. Arturo. Five minutes of air remained between them. Not enough.
She unclipped the pony bottle from her harness and connected her regulator to it, leaving the rest of the air in her bottle for Arturo. The small emergency bottle held only a few minutes of oxygen. She turned the valve and took a quick breath.
A pale murky glow colored the water with light from the direction of the fallen wall and she turned to look toward it. Had the ceiling collapsed? Was light filtering in from above? From the angle she sat, she caught a glimpse of a wall lined with shelves. A torch burnt to one side, its light flickering as though from a draft. A pale face peered at her from the hole. She jerked in recognition. The light began to fade
A high-pitched squeaking sound traveled through the water. She looked up to see the metal frame with blocked the entrance rising. Arturo motioned excitedly, the relief in his eyes evident even with the mask covering his face. Regan grasped his arm and kicked for the surface.
She braced her knees atop the steps to hold Arturo above the water line. Light, though dulled by dark rain clouds, was a welcome sight. Air, though laced with a damp chill, had never tasted so good.
“Thank God.” Dr. Fraser reached for Arturo’s arm, and with Henry’s help, dragged him free of the water.
The Doctor’s face contorted in pain behind his mask, and he yelped. He jerked his mask off. A stream of excited Italian spewed from him before he switched to English “My ribs, they are broken.”
Rick stepped into the water to help Regan. Quinn gripped her arm, his fingers closing around it like a vise. His expression looked grim, his black brows crimped in a frown. It didn’t matter how angry he was, she wanted him to hold her until her shaking stopped. She thrust the need aside. Rick grabbed her other arm, and they lifted her free of the hole.
The group huddled under the canvas shelter over the computer gear. “Are you all right, Regan?” Quinn asked. His green eyes radiated anger, but she read concern there, too.
She nodded and pulled her facemask off, then tugged her regulator free. She took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes. I’m fine. Your hand?”
He glanced down at it as though he’d forgotten about it. “’Twill be fine in a few days.”
She offered him a brief smile. “Good.” Her fingers worked the buckles, and she wriggled free of the straps that secured her gear.
“Is Dr. Arturo all right?” She shifted her attention to her dive partner.
Lightning lit the sky in the distance and she caught Quinn’s quick look upward. Had lightning struck the monoliths while they were in the chamber? Was that the source of the light? Had she really seen Coira’s face there through the opening?
Arturo, having retained his feet, braced a hand on the table that held Noggie’s remote components. Henry kneeled to pull the flippers from his feet.
“He’s in pain.” Quinn gripped Regan’s tanks one handed and lowered them to the ground. He turned to Dr. Woo. “Doc Murphy will still be up at the lab seeing patients. If Arturo’s ribs are broken, they’ll be able to x-ray them there as they did my hand.”
“I’ll call and notify him we have an emergency.” Woo flipped open his cell phone.
Regan grasped Quinn’s shoulder for balance and tugged her flippers free. The boot-like coverings on her feet made a soft patting sound as she approached Dr. Arturo. “Thanks for yelling the warning. Had you not gotten my attention, I’d have been crushed.”
His wide mouth quirked up in a half smile, half grimace. “Had you not dug me out, and shared your air supply when mine ran out, I’d be down there now trying to grow gills to breathe. You’re an excellent diver, Regan. You kept your head and saved us both. Bravo.”
“Thanks. You’d have done the same for me.” Her limbs continued to shake, the cold of reaction permeating her bones. There had been too many accidents, too many close calls. What was going on here?
Dr. Woo’s cell phone rang and he flipped it open. “They’ve notified Dr. Murphy. He’s agreed to check your injuries. But insists you need to go on to the hospital for a complete examination, Dr. Arturo.” When Arturo started to protest, he cut him off. “You wouldn’t want to risk having internal injuries. They’re sending a stretcher down.”
Arturo nodded, his expression grim.
“Dr. Woo, if you and Rick will see Dr. Arturo to the lab, I’d appreciate it,” Dr. Fraser said. “Regan, it wouldn’t hurt for you to be checked out as well.”
“I’m fine. Just a little shaky.” Quinn ducked from beneath the awning and moved to study the support frame and basket.
He rose to his feet, his features tense with anger, and, stepping through the rest of them, faced Fraser. “When are you going to realize that you’re sacrificing safety for speed? I’m not an archaeologist, but I know enough that you’re moving too fast, and taking too many chances with your personnel. Arturo and Regan could have died.”
Fraser’s face flushed bright red. “’Twas your men who set up the rig.”
“’Tis Nicodemus driving this dig, and you know it. But you’re the expert, and it’s about bloody time you started acting like one. I know he pressured Rob into increasing the air pressure to raise the stone I was working on more quickly. I know he’s pushing you to cut corners and show results. What’s the fucking big rush?”
“That’s none of your concern, Quinn.”
Quinn thrust his face close to Fraser’s. “It is when it comes to the safety of my men. And it should be when it comes to the safety of yours.”
Fraser’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “This is not the time or the place to discuss this.” He straightened, but his eyes shifted away. “If you’d like, you can meet with me tomorrow morning and we’ll talk about it then. After everyone has had a chance to calm down.”
Quinn nodded. “While you’re calming down, Fraser, you can call the local police. Perhaps they can try and figure out who damaged the bolt holding the recovery system together. It’s been cut halfway through with a hack saw.”
Fraser’s features went blank with shock. “Are you certain?”
“Gordon can look at it and lend you his opinion as well, but aye, I believe it has.”
“Jesus,” Gordon breathed. He moved to the frame.
“Don’t touch it. There may be fingerprints left there,” Quinn cautioned.
“Mine and Rick’s will be all over it, and your men’s too,” Henry said.
Gordon bent to study the bolt. “It does look like it�
��s been cut.”
“Mr. Douglas.” Andrew Argus stepped forward from behind two of the workers who’d run to help during the crisis. “Mr. Nicodemus may not like having the local police involved. They may decide to close down the site for several days to run their investigation.”
“So?”
“There is a private security firm that has run several investigations for Mr. Nicodemus. They are perhaps better equipped to investigate this. And should definitive evidence be available to prosecute anyone, they can turn their findings over to the local police.”
“That sounds like a very good alternative,” Dr. Fraser said his expression both relieved and eager.
Disgust worked across Quinn’s features. He shook his head and turned away.
He grasped Regan’s arm and for a long moment his gaze met hers. “Do you need to be checked out?”
Regan shook her head. “I’m fine.” She touched his wrist. “Really.”
Ten minutes later the brunt of the storm had moved off to the east. Quinn drew Regan down the scaffold. His clothes, dark with water, clung to his tall frame. His hair curled about his face from the moisture. He looked dark, handsome, and dangerous.
“What was it you put inside your sleeve?” he asked, drawing her thoughts back to the moment.
“It’s a stone of some kind. I’ll drop it off at the preservation lab later.”
He wheeled on her. “It’s the object you were fanning when the wall collapsed.” His cheeks grew flushed and his green gaze bore down into hers. His fingers tightened around her arm. “Jesus, Regan. You just risked your life to save a bleeding rock.”
“No. I was trying to get away from the wall, and it was buried in the muck. I just grabbed it.”
He shook his head and his jaw worked. “How much are you willing to sacrifice for these bloody stones? Because I have a feeling Coira gave up everythin’. Including her life.”
She caught her breath. What more had he learned?
His green gaze bore down into hers. “We need to talk,” he said.
She nodded. “I’ll get my gear and we can go to my cabin. The others will stay here to work now that the storm has passed.”
She gathered her flippers, but left the tanks for Gordon to take back to Grannos.
They walked down the scaffold to the dock. Regan tossed the flippers into one of the seats. Quinn slid down into the stern of the boat. He turned to steady her when she climbed down. He held her close for a moment with his good arm, gentle, supportive. Her shaking eased after a moment.
“You lied to me by omission, Regan.”
She tilted her head back and met the accusation in his eyes. Guilt squeezed her heart, and she drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the dive. What did you expect me to do, Quinn? I signed a contract to work at this site. I’m paid to use my expertise, just as you are.”
“You didn’t tell me about the break-in—until Argus showed up. You didn’t tell me about the dive. You’re allowing Nicodemus to manipulate you, just as he manipulated Rob.”
“What choice do we have, Quinn? He has money and power. He can further our careers or annihilate them.”
“That doesn’t excuse your dishonesty.” He let her go.
She flinched and turned away. Quick tears pricked her eyes. She climbed over the seat and sat down.
He maneuvered into the passenger seat. His voice dropped to a growl. “You don’t trust me. I told you I believe you, But you still don’t believe in me.”
Why hadn’t she? Because she hadn’t wanted to hear him urge her to be cautious. She hadn’t wanted to deal with his anger when she didn’t follow his suggestions. All her ideas of how it might be when they saw each other face to face outside the SAT system shriveled and died.
“Tell me one reason why I should have anythin’ else to do with this.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe if you don’t, it will all stop.” Pain ripped through her just saying the words. If they ended things now, maybe they could both escape without being hurt. One tear escaped to run down her cheek, then another. She brushed them away. To avoid looking at him, she released the air from her buoyancy compensator, then pulled at the fingers of her diving gloves and removed them. She tucked them beneath her weight belt and turned to concentrate on the gearbox on her left. She shoved the lever into neutral, turned the ignition, and the motor fired up.
Had the outboard’s roar not made conversation impossible without shouting, the knot in her throat ensured it. The short, silent trip to the cabin passed quickly. Thirty feet from the dock, she cut the engine and drifted into the slot next to it. Quinn held the boat into position while she got out and tied it to the dock.
He passed her flippers up to her, and then exited the boat. They walked down the dock to the path that led to the cabins. She climbed the steps to her own and paused to slip free of the compensation vest. Unzipping a pocket on her dry suit, she retrieved her key and unlocked the door.
He followed her inside and shut the door. She dropped her weight belt and other gear by the door.
Quinn touched her shoulder. “We’ve been over this ground before, Regan. In the past. And now. Is it some mistake we made in the past that’s put us back here once again?”
For a moment, she dwelt on her first experience with Coira and Braden, the desperation of their lovemaking. “Possibly. More than once.”
“I don’t want to see you sacrifice yourself for a ring of rocks.”
“I won’t.” Coira’s promise to Braden came to mind. What if Quinn was right about Coira? A chill raced through her. She shivered.
Quinn reached for her. His fingers cupped the back of her head as he held her close.
The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear soothed her even as the caress of his fingers against the back of her neck did the opposite. She drew back to look at his injured hand. His lips brushed her forehead.
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
“Not with the hand.”
She tilted her head back to look up at him. His expression, so somber, so serious, triggered feelings of both tenderness and sadness. She caressed his cheek. “Why can’t we get this right?”
“I don’t know.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m afraid for you. It makes me daft.”
The way his face looked transposed over the skull at the preservation lab came to mind. She shuddered and pressed close. “I am for you, too, Quinn.”
The soft tempting pressure of his mouth upon hers fed the need for more. As their tongues touched and twined she molded herself against him. It came as natural as breathing to share her lips, her tongue, her touch. His breathing was as ragged as hers as he broke the kiss.
“I need to take a shower and warm up,” she said, her voice swamped by so many different emotions it was impossible to sort them.
“I do, too.” His husky tone, sounded somewhere between a growl and a groan. He slid the zipper of her dry suit down. Regan wiggled free of the sleeves. He cupped her breast through her thermal underwear top, and she bit back a sigh as her nipple beaded beneath the pressure.
She ran a hand beneath his t-shirt to follow the contours of his stomach.
Quinn’s stomach muscles rippled and he caught his breath. “Jesus, Regan.”
She chuckled, hooked her fingers over the waistband of his jeans and tugged him toward the hall. “We can share the shower. I’ll wash your back, if you’ll wash mine.”
Quinn raised one thick black brow. “I can do that.”
His tone promised more, and Regan’s cheeks grew hot and her limbs weak. Her heart raced.
His green eyes, intent and dark, focused on her face. “I’ve had a recurring dream about peeling off your dry suit since that first night.”
An airless feeling blossomed beneath her ribs. “Now’s your chance,” she teased as she backed into her bedroom.
She slid back upon the bed and offered one leg.
A grin spread his lips as, one handed, he pulled first on
e boot free, and then the other. When he tugged on the first suit leg, the thermal underwear pants beneath went with it. Regan wiggled free of the other leg leaving her lower body bare except for a brief pair of bikini panties. He slung the dry suit over her desk chair and turned to run his gaze down the length of her legs.
Regan bit back a groan at the almost tactile response she experienced from the look on his face.
He dragged the sling from over his head and tossed it aside. He braced a hand on the bed to lean over her and rested his injured hand just above the briefs. His touch trailed downward over her mound to the inside of her thigh. Her fingers gripped the bedspread as titillating arousal nestled between her legs and settled like a feverish ache inside her. His name came out a choked whisper.
“How bad do you want that shower?” he asked as he shucked his t-shirt.
As her gaze swept the width of his chest and shoulders, the hair on his chest and the narrow line that disappeared beneath his jeans. Her mouth grew dry at the dark masculine beauty of him, and she swallowed. “Not at all compared to how bad I want you inside me.” She dragged the thermal shirt over her head baring her breasts.
Quinn’s eyes focused on them, and she ached to have his hands on her again, there—all over.
He popped the button on his jeans and peeled down the zipper. “Protection?”
Regan scrambled to reach the nightstand drawer and grabbed an unopened box of condoms. Her fingers were clumsy as she ripped the flap off and tore loose the first packet. Her breath left her on a sigh as he lowered his mouth to the sensitive spot just below her navel, then lower. He twisted his fingers in the ribbon thin elastic of her underwear and drew it down. His mouth found the inside of her thigh. An electric frission of sensation arrowed deep, and she gasped, her hips undulating in response.
He murmured her name. “I’m not going to last long, lass.”
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