On this dive, Jonah was far more interested in Callie’s reaction and response to what she was seeing than looking at the structures and floors himself.
With Ji Li a dark indistinct shadow in the distance, he took her directly to the mosaic floor. Vaughn, Leslie, and Saul were hot on their heels. It wasn’t as crystal-clear now as it’d been earlier that day. Possible the quake had churned up some sediment, but still, visibility was good for a dozen or so feet, and pretty damn good when one was standing right on top of the thing he wanted her to look at.
“Well?” he said into the mike in his mask as he shone the powerful flashlight at the ground. Blue, green, and gold mosaic glittered back. Refute that, Dr. West! “What do you think?”
Crouching, she ran both hands over the surface. Sand drifted up and hung in the water, leaving a larger surface for her to inspect. “It’s … spectacular.”
“Is it Atlantis?” Leslie demanded, kneeling beside Callie to get a better look.
“It’s a stone carpet.” Callie’s voice was choked with emotion and broken up some by static. “Beautifully preserved—God, look at the colors in this peacock—” She traced the bird with a fingertip. “This was a small temple, or someone important’s home…” She glanced around, eyes intense behind her mask. “That could’ve been a wall. Did you measure?” she demanded, turning back to pin Jonah with an intensity he found sexy as hell.
He smiled. “Sixty feet by twenty-eight.”
She was only a foot away from him, and the sheer joy on her face almost knocked Jonah on his ass. Her eyes, the same deep turquoise as the surrounding water, seemed to be lit from within. No fucking fair. Her smile, unexpected and without artifice, lit up every dark corner of his soul. Her breath sounded sexy as hell right in his ear. “A public building, then.”
Jonah had stood exactly where she was standing, and seen the animals, birds, and plants on the mosaic carpet when he’d come down to inspect Ji Li for the first time. It was as spectacular and exciting seeing it through Callie’s eyes as it had been a year ago. “Here, come and take a look at this.” Taking her hand, his fingers engulfing hers, he pulled her effortlessly through the water, swimming south about a hundred yards. Everyone followed like ducklings. He pointed to the bathing human figures illustrated by the mosaic glass tiles on the floor.
“A bathhouse!” she marveled, drifting to her knees to get a better look. She waved him closer, without looking up, then grabbed his wrist to angle the light for better viewing. Instead of letting go, her fingers tightened around his wrist.
“Oh, my God—look at this!” These mosaics depicted mostly naked human figures in various stages of bathing. At the crumbled edge the regular, circular shapes of clay piping typically used to deliver hot and cold water, and to heat bathhouse pools, could be seen sprouting from beneath the floor’s edge.
“Breathe,” he told her drily when her regulator bubbles stopped. Wanting her was like a drug coursing through his body, making him needy and guilty as hell. Jonah left his arm where it was, enjoying the hard grip of her fingers. Clearly she wasn’t even aware she was clutching his arm like a lifeline. Would she be this intense and focused in bed?
Would her eyes have the same intense gleam and be filled with the same almost otherworldly glow?
Yeah. Probably.
He’d never know.
“I found a pillar over here,” Saul said excitedly in his ear just when he was enjoying the sound of Callie’s uneven breath. Jonah glanced up to see where the others were. Leslie was nearby, but Saul and Vaughn were far enough away that they were a murky blur through the water. “It looks to be about thirty feet high! Jesus, this is amazing!”
“I wish I could be in a dozen places at once,” Callie whispered reverently, walking on her knees to inspect the floor close up, and inadvertently tugging Jonah along for the ride. He grinned, enchanted by her enthusiasm.
“Jonah?” Maura Sennett’s strained voice said directly in his ear.
“Yeah?” The last damn thing he wanted was to be brought back to the real word with a thump. A man should be able to fantasize about a beautiful woman in private and for as long as possible. “What’s up?” His captain wouldn’t contact him in the middle of a dive unless it was important. Shit. “Are they predicting another quake?” He could deal with that and still stay down here.
“We have visitors.” Her voice crackled in and out. Damn, Thanos had to get the damn comm system fixed sooner than later. “Get your butt topside ASAP.”
* * *
Maura waited for him on the dive platform when Jonah pulled himself up beside her, leaving the other divers below to continue exploring.
“Who’s on board?” he asked, squinting up at her as he stripped off his gear. Late-afternoon sunlight angled white across the surface of the water, bouncing off the crisp white hull. Not a cloud in the robin’s-egg-blue sky, and visibility good enough to clearly see the peak of a mountain on a small nearby island that had been no more than a smudge earlier that morning.
A twenty-foot fishing boat, in fairly decent condition, was tethered to his ship.
Maura, dressed in her formal whites, shrugged. “No idea. They showed up in that—” She indicated the boat. “I saw them coming in from over there.” She indicated the small island. “Wouldn’t talk to me, my being female and all.” She rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t tell Thanos what they wanted, either. Just insisted on speaking to the man in charge. I put them in the library and sent Gayle in to watch them. Tina brought refreshments, but they won’t even sit down.”
“The island’s inhabited? Might be worth our while to take a tender over there. Convenient for supplies.” Jonah pulled his T-shirt on over damp skin, mildly annoyed that he’d been taken away from something profoundly important to have a chitchat with the locals. He was looking forward to the good doctor eating crow.
“There’s no indication on my charts that that island is inhabited. It’s too small to have a name. But you can ask our guests. Trust me, not fishermen,” Maura said obliquely, indicating that he should go up the ladder first. “It’s a Mexican standoff.”
Jonah quirked a brow. “Intriguing. How many of them?”
“Three.”
“Let’s go see what they want. I don’t want to waste the last few hours of good dive time today playing host with the most.”
“Is everyone blown away?” Maura asked enviously as they headed for the second deck and the library.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. It’s pretty damn amazing. Where’s Brody? I’ll have him take watch, and you can come down for a bit if you like.”
“God, I’d love to. As for Brody … Let’s leave that conversation for later, okay?”
Jonah wished he’d ignored her request and stayed under the water. He could do without conflict to fuck up a great day.
Together they entered the small library where the men waited. Gayle gave Jonah and Maura a relieved look when they walked in. At an inquiring look from Jonah, she gave a small puzzled shrug.
The library with its two long tables, computers, monitoring devices, and neatly rolled charts was where they’d be cataloging the salvages in the coming months. It was a comfortable, book-lined room, with a big television set, excellent sound system, and deep, comfortable seating. A great place to relax and Jonah’s favorite room on the ship.
* * *
No one in the room looked in the least bit comfortable or relaxed.
“Jonah Santi—Cutter.” Jonah offered his hand, catching himself with his last name. He’d been Santiago—his mother’s last name—for the first few years he’d worked for Nick, before his connection to the family had been revealed. Dropping his hand when none was offered in return, he inspected the three elderly men. “What can we do for you gentlemen?” He directed the question to a tall, thin man who appeared to be in charge.
He couldn’t quite figure out if the men were priests or some other member of the clergy. Dressed from head to toe in unrelieved black robe-like garments, they were tall, medium, and small in height. Swarthy skin, black eyes, strong features. Greek? Turkish? Possibly Egyptian? Hard to tell. Definitely not fishermen.
“Coffee? Something cold?” Maura offered, defaulting into hostess role, even though she was as unlikely a host as Jonah. She indicated the tray on a nearby table. The chef had brought slices of chocolate cake, a pot of coffee, and a pitcher of juice into the library before Jonah arrived. Nothing was touched.
“No refreshments, thank you.” Tall took the chair Jonah offered with an invitational wave of his hand.
Jonah suspected this wasn’t a social call.
“I am Achaikos Trakas,” Tall said, his voice almost hypnotically serene as he arranged the drape of his robes about his legs. He had a heavy lantern jaw, and a prominent nose took up most of the real estate on his deeply lined face. Wispy hair lay flat and transparently pale against his scalp, and his hooded black eyes seemed to be burned into his skull. Jonah guessed his age to be somewhere between 80 and 150.
Bodyguard-like, Small stood beside Tall’s chair as he murmured his name so quietly Jonah barely heard him. “Bion Eliades.” He must’ve been hitting the high eighties as well. He was about as wide as he was tall, which wasn’t very. Lipless; his hangdog eyes looked terrified. He looked, to Jonah, a little like a well-fed trout. Eliades eyed the plate of cake like a sex offender at a porn show, but made no move to take a slice.
“Lysistrata Demetriou,” Medium said smoothly, clasping bloodless fingers tightly in his lap as he perched, ramrod-straight, on the edge of his black leather chair.
Definitely not relaxed, Jonah thought, amused at the theatricality of the men’s demeanors. Three black crows, beady eyes watchful. They were so … odd, so out of place, Jonah was—if not intrigued, at least curious.
The men’s stress level permeated the air like an invisible sticky fog, brushing Jonah’s damp skin with skeletal fingers. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shoved the overly dramatic image away.
He’d hear them out, then send them on their way with a go-box of Tina’s excellent chocolate cake.
Their heavy accents were more international than country-specific, but the names sounded Greek. Not much of a clue.
Jonah, his captain, and her first officer sat down. Eliades, still standing, folded his hands inside the sleeves of his robe and stared—rather creepily—into the middle distance.
Jonah paid attention to his instincts, which said the men’s relaxed pose was surface-deep. “I repeat, what can we do for you, gentlemen? We’re in the middle of a salvage. I want to get back to my dive team.”
“What is it you are salvaging, Kyrie?”
Greek, then. Jonah leaned back in the deep leather chair. “Not to put too fine a point on it, Trakas, but who are you, and what business is my business to you?”
“You did not make a request to do any salvage in this area. To do so you are required to ask permission from—” There was a slight hesitation, before he finished. “From Kyrie Spanos. You have been anchored in this location for twenty-four hours, and have not yet done so.”
“Permission? No, I haven’t,” Jonah responded, letting the chill seep into his tone, and peeling back another layer of annoyance. “Who is he, and why do I need anyone’s permission to salvage here? This is open water. International waters.”
There was a small, horrified gasp from Demetriou. But a sharp look from Eliades made him blink, then lower his gaze.
“Kallistrate Spanos is—How you say? Acting grand master of Νησί Fire.”
“Fire Island?” Jonah glanced at Maura. She raised her eyebrows to indicate she’d never heard of it, either. “Okay. I’ll bite. Where is this Fire Island, since it isn’t even listed on any map, and why does this ‘grand master’ think he can dictate what and where I salvage?”
“Νησί Fire is seven miles due west, Kyrie. Kyrie Spanos is … caretaker, if you will, of this … area. He asks that you come with us to the island, and report your findings and intentions.”
“Yeah. I don’t think so. We’re more than seven miles off your island regardless. According to international law, you have no jurisdiction beyond three miles off your coast, regardless of what your big guy thinks.” Jonah rose, and so did the two women.
“Thank Spanos for the invitation, and let him know I politely declined.”
Trakas and Demetriou also got to their feet. Eliades shook his head as if horrified by Jonah’s response. Tough shit.
“You—you cannot refuse, Kyrie! It is not done!” Demetriou whispered, horrified.
“As I said, you have no jurisdiction over me or my ship, gentlemen. If we find anything I think might interest you, I’ll be sure to let you know. Now, if you don’t mind, my team is waiting for me.”
Trakas gave Jonah a flat stare and said in ominous tones, “If you do not comply and come with us, we will be put to death.”
Whoa. The hair on Jonah’s nape paid attention. He huffed out a laugh, which died when he looked at three terrified pairs of ancient eyes. “You can’t fucking be serious.”
“We are not permitted to fail,” Trakas told him grimly, a muscle ticking in his lantern jaw. “If we do, we will die. If we die, others will take our place. You must obey our directive. There is no other choice.”
“No other choice? You must be shitting me. I have a plethora of choices. One of which is tossing your bony asses overboard.”
“What nonsense is this?” Maura demanded incredulously, cheeks flushed. “Which country does Fire Island belong to? I’ll contact the Greek authori—”
“We are an independent state, and belong to no country,” Demetriou cut in, looking to Jonah as if it were he who’d spoken.
“You’re the Monaco of the Mediterranean Sea? And put people to death on a whim? Man, I’d hate to live on your island.”
Demetriou’s face went starkly pale, and he spoke through tight lips. “This is no joking matter, Kyrie. A dishonorable death in our culture is just punishment for failure. If you do not come with us to speak to Kyrie Spanos, it will impinge on our honor. Once honor is lost, our lives will be forfeited.”
“I’ve never heard such bullsh—this is ridiculous!” Gayle told Jonah. “I’ll escort them off the ship. Let’s go.”
It was as though the captain and first mate weren’t even in the room, as Trakas addressed only Jonah. He pressed a skeletal, freckled hand flat against his own chest as if holding in pain, and said through bloodless lips, his voice stark, “You refuse to accompany us?”
It was highly unlikely the men were telling the truth about being killed if he didn’t tag along, but they clearly believed it. Jonah plainly saw the strain on the old men’s faces. All he needed was one of them keeling over from a heart attack or stroke while on board his ship. The red tape alone would delay them for months. “How about if I come over and meet this Kallistrate Spanos tomorrow morning?”
Maura’s head whipped around. “Jonah—”
“It’s okay. I’d like to see the island for myself. Sounds like a real fun place.”
“You swear on your honor that you will come, at first light tomorrow?” Demetriou demanded, not looking any healthier than the tall guy. “We have your word?”
“Not at first light, I need at least three cups of coffee before I function. How about midmorning?” Jonah was curious, not fucking compliant.
The three men exchanged looks. Eliades looked as though he was about to pass out. He opened his mouth to protest, but Trakas made a slight hand gesture and the shorter man subsided, his face also bone-china-pale, hands shaking. He hastily tucked them inside his voluminous sleeves and bowed his head.
“We have your word?”
Fuck. “Sure.”
* * *
Callie remembered her mom coming in to kiss her good night. She’d been about ten. She thought her mother looked like a fairy queen that night. Her parents were going to some fancy function, and her mother wore a black velvet dress, diamonds at her throat and wrists. Tonight the sky looked just as magical as that dress, sprinkled with diamonds.
She held on to the visual memory of a ten-year-old, because it was pretty much the last time she’d believed in magic. The dress had probably been cotton, and the “diamonds” were most assuredly zirconia.
The adult in her remembered the stink of booze on her mother’s breath that not even a liberal gargle of mouthwash and a dousing of J’adore ever covered.
She had no illusions anymore.
“… must’ve swum at least a hundred yards inside. It was massive…” Vaughn was talking about the lava tube he’d discovered that afternoon. Callie let the conversation drift around her as she cradled a long-gone-cold cup of tea, staring out at the glittering water.
Jonah hadn’t come back down after the captain had called him to return to the ship this afternoon. Whoever the visitors were, he hadn’t joined the rest of the crew until dinner, and he’d been preoccupied for the rest of the evening, his face more shuttered than usual.
Who were the mysterious visitors, and why had they come? Jonah hadn’t had much to say about anything. He’d asked a few questions of Vaughn and a few of Leslie when she asked what they’d be bringing on board.
She longed to get back to the lab to spend more time with the small artifacts and bits of glass mosaic she’d brought back on board with her. She’d already cataloged them and done the paperwork.
The dive team had enjoyed a terrific meal under the stars, lingering over coffee as they discussed what they’d seen and how they wanted to proceed, who was going to work Ji Li and how they would divvy up the city so nothing was missed. Familiar talk. Conversation she was comfortable with.
She liked remembering her parents from when she was too young to know they were drunks. There’d been good times, she was sure. But they’d been few and far between. She’d been the adult before she was in her teens.
As the child of alcoholics, she was a stereotype: She’d perfected lying because she always had to cover with the authorities, she was too critical of herself, a perfectionist, and she found it hard to have fun just for the sake of having fun. She’d proven she was crappy at relationships, and she always felt … different.
The people around the table hadn’t known one another for more than a few weeks, yet they’d already formed a bond she wasn’t a part of. It was such a perfectly beautiful, serene night, for just a second she closed her eyes and wished upon a star.
“Penny for them.” Jonah murmured, once again sitting next to her. Callie wasn’t sure how that had happened since he’d been seated at the other end of the table when she’d arrived for dinner.
“My thoughts are worth a lot more than a penny,” she said lightly, draining the last cold drop of tea for something to do with her hands and mouth.
He always needed a shave, and tonight was no exception. The scruff looked good on him. Sexy. Bad-boy sexy. The kind of man a woman like her rarely, if ever, attracted. She was too by-the-book, and she suspected that Jonah had thrown away the rule book in his teens.
“Is your ring too big?” His voice only carried the eighteen inches between them. “You might want to keep it in the safe, I’d hate for you to lose it.”
“It’s insured.”
A warm breeze made the small white lights dance and sway overhead, leaving it hard to read him. The smell of him made her hormones sit up and pant. It was ridiculous that soap could turn her on like this. Maybe she should just use it herself and get over it.
“You smell like the tropics,” he said.
God … “It’s sunblock.” Eager—more than eager—to change the subject, she raised her voice to include the others. “Who was your visitor this afternoon?”
Jonah’s half smile was annoying. “Are you aware Fire Island is inhabited?”
Realizing that she was listing to the side, Callie straightened in her chair. “I don’t know about inhabited. People go there to climb the volcano or camp, I think. I’ve never been there, and that’s about all I know. Why? Were your visitors from there?”
“Three of them showed up unannounced.”
“That was very neighborly.”
“Who’s this?” Saul asked from the other end of the table.
Jonah filled everyone in on the three elderly men who’d showed up, and made light of what sounded to Callie like a rooster fluffing its feathers to scare off the fox.
“Are you saying,” she asked, amused, “that three old men threatened to kill themselves if you didn’t go over there tomorrow?”
“Nope. They tried to impress on me that if I didn’t show up, their lives would be toast—but not voluntarily.”
“Senile dementia,” Vaughn suggested, refilling his wineglass, then filling Leslie’s. Without missing a beat, Jonah moved the bottle well out of Brody’s reach. Vaughn continued, “For all we know it was spies from another salvage operation coming to see what we’ve discovered. You didn’t tell them about our city, did you?”
The mention of a rival salvage company coming to scope them out sent a little shiver down Callie’s spine. Like a fox in a henhouse, she was sitting right in the middle of them, having enjoyed a pleasant meal.
Jonah shook his head. “I’m supposed to report to their head honcho. Tell him what we’re doing here. None of their business, but I’ll go because these geezers really seem to believe they’re in danger.”
“If they th-think they can just waltz in here and grab our treasure, fuck them!” Brody said.
Besides her natural distaste for sloppy drunks, Callie gave Jonah props for cutting Brody off. Drinking and sailing didn’t mix well and put them all at risk.
“Maybe they’d heard rumors about the sinking of Ji Li, and want a cut if we find anything?” Callie put the mug down because she was fiddling. Loosely clasping her fingers together, she rested her hands on the table. “Then they most assuredly know about the ruins under her.”
Jonah leaned back in his chair, not looking in the least concerned that someone else was trying to horn in on his salvage. “What they know is immaterial. They have no jurisdiction over us, and we have the right to salvage what we’ve claimed.”
“Do you think they’ll make trouble of some kind?” Saul looked concerned.
“Maybe fifty years ago,” Jonah told him lightly. “They’re ancient and harmless. Hell, my abuela could take all three of them. I think they’re curious, and bored. We’re something new in the neighborhood and we offer some summer entertainment.”
Jonah had just revealed two things. He had a grandmother. And she was Spanish. “You have a grandmother?”
Rydell had told her the Cutters had no relatives other than themselves. Jonah had been a surprise. A half sibling. Clearly accepted by his brothers, since they’d handed him a multimillion-dollar ship with all the bells and whistles.
He cocked a dark brow. “Why so surprised? Did you think I was hatched?”
“I—no.”
He smiled. “She’s a spry eighty-two, and lives in Cádiz with seven cats and her boyfriend, who happens to be a younger man of seventy-three.”
“Is that where you’re from? Spain?” She hadn’t noticed before, but there was a breath of an accent on certain words now that she listened for it.
“Born there, went to school in England, then got a bachelor’s and a master’s in marine science from Webb Institute. That’s where I met Maura.”
“You have degrees?” She didn’t mean to sound quite so incredulous.
“Marine engineering and naval architecture. Before I signed on as Nick’s captain, I was designing ships.”
Designing ships? Rydell hadn’t mentioned that Jonah had even gone to college, let alone that he was a marine architect.
“Nick?” Callie knew all about Nick Cutter. He’d scuttled his own ship with a fortune of diamonds on board to elude the authorities. He was as crooked as his brothers.
“My middle half brother. Same father.”
Callie glanced down the table, but everyone was listening to something Saul was telling them and not eavesdropping on Jonah’s story.
Daniel Cutter, the man who apparently couldn’t keep his equipment in his pants, had lived with his wife and three sons on Cutter Cay, in the Caribbean. He’d also lived and been “married” to Jonah’s mother. Callie wasn’t sure if he’d been legally married to two women or not. “Does your mother still live in Spain?”
“She died three years ago. Heart failure. She was only fifty-four. Her death was the impetus for me to seek out Zane, Nick, and Logan, see if we could make a connection. Be a family.”
“And?”
“It’s as though we didn’t grow up thousands of miles and cultures apart. I’ll do anything for them.”
She nodded. “To prove yourself.” Rydell and Peri, his baby sister, were her family, too. They loved her, and she’d been married to their younger brother, Adam, for six years. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for either of them. All they had to do was ask. Which was why she was here.
She understood Jonah’s need to gain his brothers’ trust and approval.
“Nah. Don’t need to,” Jonah said, unwittingly echoing what she was thinking. “We’re family. How about you?”
“Nope,” she said, keeping it light. “I’ve been an orphan for many years.” She shrugged. “My parents, ironically, were killed by a drunk driver. Both drivers were blitzed out of their minds.”
“That sucks.”
“I don’t mean to sound fatalistic, but it was inevitable. Driving drunk was a favorite pastime of theirs.”
“Is that where you got this?” He reached out to run a light finger down the length of her arm, tracing the worst of the scars. Nobody had ever touched her there other than at the hospital, and Callie felt that brush of his finger in every pulsing cell in her body as if it were a live wire.
The symbol of her survival, and so much a part of her she rarely gave it any thought. She jerked out of reach, picking up her empty mug as if it were a blastproof shield that could protect her. “Not in the accident that killed them, no. This happened when I was fifteen.” The last time she’d ever gotten into a vehicle with either of them. “No one died that day, but they had to get us out of the car with the Jaws of Life. I was just grateful when I woke up in the hospital and saw the bandages after surgery and knew I didn’t lose my arm.”
He was quiet for a long time. The conversation at the other end of the table was petering out, and people were starting to tune in to their conversation.
“No grandparents?”
“No,” Callie said, feeling uncomfortable divulging anything more personal—she’d already overshared. “Both sets died before I was born.”
“Ah, man, that fucking sucks!” Brody yelled too loudly. “Do you need a hug? I’ll give you a hug.” Spreading his arms wide, he hugged the space around him. “Come ’ere, darlin’.” Wiggling his fingers for her to come to him. “Big bad Brody’ll give you some lovin’.”
“Big bad Brody is going to get his ass kicked,” Jonah said with a little heat. “Sit down and shut up. One more warning, and I tear up your contract. No more drinking on board.”
“On that happy note, I’ll say good night.” Callie got to her feet. Men like Brody were easy to handle. And since the only man she knew who was remotely like Jonah was Rydell, she knew she had to get out of his force field before she did something foolish. “It’s been a full day, and I still have some jet lag to sleep off.”
She’d shared more with Jonah than she’d ever shared with any man other than Adam. Not even Peri or Ry knew some of the things she’d told Jonah tonight.
“The offer of the safe is open if you need it.”
She was twisting her wedding ring around her finger again. This time unconsciously. “I’ll keep it in mind. ’Night, everyone.”
“Let’s all go tomorrow and check them out. Going by yourself is ridiculous. If they’ve got a problem with you, then they have a problem with all of us,” Leslie suggested.
Callie didn’t hear the answer as she headed downstairs to her cabin.
She didn’t call Rydell to report as she’d agreed to do. In part because he had bigger fish to fry at the moment, but more because, first, before she gave him more details on Jonah’s city she wanted to have all her ducks in a row, and second, just because she’d been related to Rydell once upon a time didn’t mean she was under his command and unable to think on her own.
Callie grinned at her mixed metaphors.
Ry could wait. Just because this would be short-term didn’t mean she’d rush the process. There was a right way to do this and a wrong way. And no matter who was going to end up with the spoils, as long as she was involved, every i would be dotted, every t crossed.
Callie kept her own counsel. So far they hadn’t seen anything that could be easily transported. The mosaics should’ve been left where they were until she—or someone—went over them with a fine-tooth comb and sucked every bit of information out of them, documenting every inch along the way. But she hadn’t been able to resist bringing a few samples to the surface.
Don’t get too invested, she cautioned herself, sliding her palm down the smooth surface of the highly polished brass rail as she navigated the stairs to the lower deck where most of the cabins were located. Prizes had a tendency to be whipped from beneath a person’s feet when they least expected it. She merely had a loan of the Lost City. A temporary taste.
Despite sunscreen, she’d gotten a little burnt. It felt amazing to be out in the field, diving again after months in a classroom. She loved teaching at the University of Miami, her alma mater, but nothing beat the silent beauty underwater.
What she’d seen that afternoon was incredible, and she was eager for what the next morning would bring. She’d make notes and look at the photos she’d taken down there before hitting the sack.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Callie turned to see Jonah heading to his cabin as well. Since their doors were opposite each other, unless she ran into her cabin and slammed the door in his face—which she admitted to herself was a huge temptation—she was going to have to interact with him sans the buffer of the other divers.