Читать книгу In Too Deep - Kira Sinclair - Страница 11
ОглавлениеSEVERAL HOURS LATER they were finally underway, heading for the open sea. Later than Knox had wanted because of a few logistical snags...including hauling all six of Dr. Walsh’s suitcases onto the ship.
Had the woman packed her entire wardrobe? What did she expect to need on a ship in the middle of the Caribbean?
He’d thought about opening every one of her bags and rifling through—with the intent to toss any heels, pearls or matching pantsuits he found along the way—but had decided his blood pressure probably couldn’t take the exercise.
Besides, he’d figured his time would be better spent looking for something that would tell him what she was hiding. Although, he didn’t do that either.
Avery had disappeared into the cabin she’d been assigned, which she had to herself despite their already cramped quarters since the only other woman on the ship, their cook, had quarters right off the galley. So far, she hadn’t resurfaced. Not even for dinner or to meet the crew.
They were all going to be working together for the next few weeks. The least she could have done was introduce herself and pass around a smile.
Trident had been open for a little over two years, but even though they were a relatively new business, and quite a few of the crew had only recently been hired on, they were a tight-knit group.
Maybe it was a legacy from their time in the Teams, but Asher, Jackson and Knox had worked hard at building camaraderie and a sense of family with their employees. As soldiers, they’d depended on each other for their lives. While they no longer worked with bullets flying, you had to trust that the guy beside you knew what he was doing and could competently and quickly complete his job, freeing you up to do the same.
They worked hard, and they played hard. When jobs required 24/7 commitment and living in tight quarters, it was sometimes just as important to blow off steam together.
Rather than wallow in irritation, Knox had come up on deck to try and calm down. The quiet shush against the hull as the Amphitrite cut through the water would normally have been enough to accomplish that. But not tonight. What he really needed was a spin behind the wheel of his Shelby, but that wasn’t in the cards.
Tonight he was restless, the first time he’d felt that way since leaving the Teams. Somehow, after living through more life-and-death situations than he cared to count, not even the stress of owning his own business made him uneasy.
There was something about this whole adventure, though, that didn’t sit right with him. Not just having Avery aboard. But the allegations McNair was making.
In his gut, Knox knew this was an attempt to grab their work. This had to be McNair’s play to claim the wreckage and treasure for himself. When Trident had announced that the Chimera had been found, there was a frenzy of interest, rumors of gold heading for the Confederate States a huge media draw.
They’d already been approached by a documentary crew from a major science channel interested in recording the process of salvaging and preserving the wreckage. Kennedy was currently working to get the details for that project in place.
McNair was simply one of the sharks that had swum out of the depths.
But unlike the others, he was causing serious problems.
Knox wasn’t going to let McNair’s claims derail their plans for the Chimera. And, unfortunately, Avery Walsh was a major part of solving the issues plaguing them. So he needed to take Asher’s advice—bite his tongue around the maddening woman and let her do her job.
While keeping a sharp eye on everything she did.
The sooner she completed her task, the sooner she could be off his ship. And the sooner they could get back to business as usual. He could return to the uncomplicated existence he’d enjoyed for the past two years.
That was what he wanted.
Uncomplicated. Unhurried. A life doing what he’d come to love—spending his time in warm, tropical waters—with two of his best friends.
After the turmoil of the past sixteen years, he deserved a break.
Knox stared out across the vast expanse of open water. It was calm, smooth this far from any shore. It always managed to make him feel small and insignificant. For some people that might be frightening, but for Knox it was reassuring. Knowing that he was one teeny, tiny piece in a gigantic whole helped to take some of the pressure away. Not everything was his fault or responsibility.
Sometimes that lesson was difficult to remember.
As he usually did whenever the stars winked on for the first time at night and he happened to be in a position to see them, he looked up. Picking one out, he closed his eyes and murmured a few words to his big brother. About his life, his day—good and bad.
He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t hear anyone approach until a soft voice murmured beside him.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Jerking his gaze down, Knox stared for several seconds at Avery.
She wasn’t close. There was at least three feet of railing between them. Although it didn’t matter. His body reacted as if she’d whispered those words straight into his ear, as if the warmth of her breath had tickled across his skin.
Knox tamped down his reaction, controlling it as he’d learned to ruthlessly control everything else. Desire, just like pain, could be ignored.
And he had every intention of ignoring any reaction Dr. Walsh stirred within him.
At some point she’d changed clothes, probably into what she considered casual wear. Sure, she was in shorts, but they were linen and looked damned expensive. She’d paired them with a gauzy top in fading shades of blue and fussy sandals with straps that crisscrossed up her calves. And the damn pearls—although this strand was longer than the ones earlier, and swayed between her breasts.
She’d pulled her flame-red hair up into some kind of bun thing at the back of her head that managed to look both sophisticated and complicated. Not to mention tight enough to give her a headache. Knox just wanted to mess it up.
For the briefest moment, he contemplated whether or not to tell her a few strands had escaped the tight confines and were curling to trail down her neck and face. He decided not to, mostly because he knew she’d immediately try to tame them back.
As far as he was concerned, those wisps of red were the best thing about her outfit.
“What?” he finally asked when he realized he’d been staring at her a little too long.
“The stars, they’re gorgeous. It’s one of the best things about being on the open water. So bright. No matter where my family was, or how foreign our home felt, the stars were always the same. I could look up into the sky, and even from our first night in a new city or village, I’d feel centered.”
Her statement struck him as sad, wistful in a way that tugged at him. And curious.
“You moved a lot?”
She laughed, the sound soft and uneasy. “Every few months. My dad was an archaeologist but my parents liked having the family together, no matter how remote the location.”
Shifting her hips against the railing, Avery rested her weight there. She stared out across the quiet water.
Knox didn’t quite know what to do with this contemplative version of the woman he’d met. So he stayed silent and simply listened.
“My sister and I were homeschooled. My parents wanted the world to be our classroom, and I have to admit there were things about the experience I wouldn’t trade. But for someone who tended toward shyness, it became very difficult to dredge up the energy to make friends in each new place.”
Knox studied her, wary instincts clanging a warning deep inside his head. What was her angle? Was she playing him? Doling out information he hadn’t asked for in the hopes of tugging on his heartstrings—assuming he had any, of course?
Like any good intelligence officer, he let her continue in the hopes of discovering the answer to some or all of those questions.
“My sister and I would often wish on the first star of the night. But I suppose that would be too foolish for a big, bad Navy SEAL, huh?”
“Doc, I think you’ve got the wrong impression of me. There have been plenty of times in my life I would have prayed to wood nymphs, Aztec gods or, hell, Martians, if it meant saving lives. I believe in my training. I respect the brothers who fought beside me. And I’m wise enough to realize there are forces at work outside our control every single day. I value life and understand what’s important—people, not things.”
Her pale blue eyes jerked to his. “Interesting.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Just not what I expected.”
Knox felt his lips curve down into a frown.
Slowly she cleared her throat, turning and folding her arms over the railing so she could stare down at the water churning beneath them. “Look, I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Maybe?” There was no question they’d gotten off on the wrong foot.
“Hey, you’re the one who almost ran me over with that little car.”
“Doc, that wasn’t just any car. And she might be small, but she’s damn powerful.”
“And fast.”
Knox grinned. “And fast.”
He mirrored her position, sliding closer and folding his own arms over the railing.
“What’s so special about the car...aside from the fact that it came inches away from wearing me as a hood ornament?”
He could have rattled off a bunch of statistics, talked about the car’s racing history. Instead, Knox found himself saying, “First of all, like I told you that day, I was in complete control the entire time. You were never in any danger.”
“Excuse me if I don’t trust your judgment on that.”
Knox’s lips flashed up into a self-deprecating grin, the kind that acknowledged her statement and then immediately dismissed it. Because she was absolutely wrong. However, he was intelligent enough to realize that having this argument again wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere.
“But, more importantly, it’s my brother’s.”
Which wasn’t true since Kyle had never owned it, but Knox always thought of the car as his. It should have been his.
Kyle had talked about that car incessantly. Had put posters of the Shelby on his wall. Together, the two of them had planned to fix one up. His brother had even started saving.
Since Kyle hadn’t been able to follow through on the dream, in his spare time Knox had done it for him. It had been a labor of love, and of atonement. It was the least he could do since Kyle’s death had been his fault. That car was Knox’s single most prized possession.
The familiar guilt snaked through his chest, tightening everything to the point that he couldn’t breathe. It was a battle he’d fought for the past sixteen years. A battle that never seemed to get easier.
It didn’t matter that no one else blamed him for the accident that had killed his brother, his brother’s girlfriend and his best friend. He blamed himself and always would.
He should have done more. Not swerved to miss the deer that had jumped out onto the dark country road late that night. He should have been able to recover from the skid the car went into. Should have prevented the car from slamming into the guardrail at sixty miles an hour.
Everyone told him it was a miracle he’d walked away from the crash. And they weren’t wrong. He’d had several broken bones, a concussion and various cuts and bruises.
Bethany had died on impact. Chase minutes later on the side of the road. Kyle...he’d survived for several hours.
Knox would never forget standing beside his brother, watching EMTs try to save his life. The most helpless Knox had ever been. A sensation he never wanted to experience again.
“Your brother needs better taste in cars.”
Pushing away from the railing, Knox let his gaze sweep across Avery. “My brother’s dead,” he said, his words blunt and infused with every drop of remembered pain, even if he hadn’t meant to unleash it on her.
Avery’s pale eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.
He should feel...something for pulling that kind of reaction. Satisfaction, at least. It was what he’d been going for with the stark statement.
Instead, he simply wanted away—from her and the unpleasant memories she’d unwittingly called up.
Turning, he walked in the opposite direction, leaving her with the pod of dolphins that had decided to ghost through the water with the ship.
* * *
KNOX’S WORDS RANG through her head. Okay, more like clanged. But how was she to know his brother was dead? Or that her question could cause that haunted, hunted look in his eyes?
She felt like crap, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Apologize, but she’d really done nothing wrong. And something told her saying anything else would make the situation worse. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it.
She’d seen Knox standing at the railing looking up at the stars and had wanted to get things on track. She really needed Knox to...if not like her then at least leave her alone enough to do her job. Or not do her job.
At the thought, a heavy pit settled into her stomach. It made her sick. Instead of making things better, somehow she’d managed to irritate him more.
It was clearly time to regroup.
Avery headed back to her cabin. She’d been surprised to be assigned her own considering the lack of space, but it would make things easier. She was exhausted from traveling and her body was starting to crash from the ups and downs of the day.
She forced herself to unpack—the cases with her supplies and equipment had already been unloaded—putting all of her clothes away before beginning her nightly ritual. There was something about getting her space in order that always soothed her.
Maybe it was from all the years living out of suitcases. Or a holdover from trying to find a sense of security when the only thing she’d been able to control was her immediate environment.
Her father’s work had taken them to some amazing places—Africa, Egypt, Thailand, South America, Australia. She’d experienced different cultures. Could understand five languages, though she wasn’t fluent in all of them.
She now owned a house in Texas, but she spent more time away from it—consulting, working, giving speeches or preparing papers, occasionally teaching—than there. While she liked it well enough and always enjoyed going back, she wasn’t tied to home the way most people were.
Her routine grounded her, though. No matter where she laid her head, it was always the same. Brushing her teeth, taking off her makeup, preparing her clothes for the morning...
She could barely keep her eyes open by the time she switched off her light and crawled beneath the blanket. Tonight she didn’t even bother cracking open the book she’d brought with her. Instead, she was asleep within minutes.
And awake again two hours later when a loud noise startled her.
Avery jackknifed straight up in bed, her body responding before her brain had fully kicked in. With bleary eyes, she glanced around, trying to figure out where she was and what had woken her. It only took a few seconds to realize the disturbance had come from outside her room. On the Amphitrite.
Loud music. Laughter. Someone yelling.
And, there it was, the thump of some idiot slamming into the wall in the hallway outside her door.
Throwing a silk robe on over the cotton shorts and tank top she normally wore to bed, Avery yanked open her door just as another down the hall slammed shut. At least the drunken fool had made it to his bed.
But the noise. In the hallway it was so loud, the ship practically vibrated to the thump of the music.
She’d never get back to sleep.
With a huff, Avery tightened the knot on her robe and headed toward the commotion. A door down the hall stood wide-open. Inside it appeared the entire crew had congregated.
The space wasn’t huge. The ship was a working vessel, so most areas onboard were needed for their mission. It was clear this room served multiple purposes. The crew had eaten their dinner there earlier in the day. Now everyone was scattered about—lounging in chairs, sitting on top of tables, playing poker, drinking beer, listening to music.
Someone, she’d guess Catherine, their cook, had put out several bowls of munchies and a few dips.
Everyone’s faces were bright with happiness and laughter. She stood on the edge of the group and for a minute jealousy twisted her gut. She’d never had this, not even at college.
Especially not at college. She’d been too young and shy to really fit in with the other undergrads. Graduating high school early, she’d started college at sixteen.
By the time she’d reached grad school, she was so focused on her goals and burned-out that trying to fit in had seemed like a lost cause. She’d simply drawn into herself and set her sights on completing her program as soon as possible.
She had a few close friends now, but they were people like her. Quiet, professional, contained. When she was in Galveston, they’d get together for dinner, wine and some conversation. Nothing like this.
Avery’s gaze swept across the sea of people, most wearing shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops. There was nothing about this group that said contained.
They looked like they were relaxed. Enjoying themselves. A bright spurt of envy bloomed inside her chest.
Shaking off the unproductive reaction, Avery reminded herself why she’d ventured out. Scanning the crowd, she tried to find Asher. Maybe he’d be willing to tone down the party so she could sleep. He’d seemed like a nice enough guy the couple times they’d met.
But instead of finding him, her gaze locked with Knox’s. From across the room she felt the unexpected zing. Once she saw him, she couldn’t seem to look away, even though her brain was screaming at her to.
Pushing away from the table he’d been leaning against, Knox set his bottle on the scratched surface. Then he was striding across the room toward her. He didn’t have to say anything, the people between them simply moved out of his way.
“Welcome to the party. Have to say I’m surprised you joined us.” His dark eyes studied her. “In your silk robe.”
Avery fought the urge to grab the lapels and pull them tighter over her chest.
Luckily, his words jump-started her brain and reminded her exactly why she was there.
“Would you mind turning down the music? I’m trying to sleep and it’s very loud.”
“Sorry, doc. I promised the crew a party tonight since we’re going to be pulling twelve-and fourteen-hour days once we get to the site.”
The party. The music. The nickname. Having this man stare down at her out of those smooth brown eyes, delicious and warm...it was wreaking havoc with her brain. Why did she always have the impression Knox was judging her?
And why did it bother her so much that she was afraid he didn’t like what he saw?
Frustration piled up, making her response more explosive than she’d meant. “For the love of all that is good and holy, stop calling me that.”
Knox considered her. His head tilted to the side and the tip of his tongue snuck out, slowly sweeping across the firm edge of his lower lip.
Avery’s stomach rolled and heat leaked into her veins, spreading unwanted desire like poison through her system. She should have stayed in bed.
She shifted on her feet, ready to turn away and admit defeat. Maybe she’d just put her earbuds in and hope for the best.
But Knox snagged her arm before she could move two steps. His fingers wrapped around her bicep, sliding against the silk covering her skin. “Ever heard the phrase, ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em’?”
A low groan rumbled through her chest. Avery’s eyes slid shut as she asked for strength in dealing with the man. “Never mind.”
Knox shrugged, that damn grin twisting his lips even as his eyes began to twinkle.
Without asking he reached into a cooler and came up with a beer bottle. Water and ice slid down the smooth glass. Knox didn’t seem to care that it left a puddle on the floor at his feet.
He cupped his palm around her hand and sent a flame of awareness shooting up her arm. Slapping the bottle against her palm, he curled her fingers around the ice-cold surface. “You look like you could use this. If nothing else, it might help you sleep.”
Avery blinked at him, speechless.
Her brain, the thing that had faithfully served her for years, revolted. So her body took over, raising the bottle to her lips and pulling in a huge swallow. She didn’t particularly like beer, preferring cosmos and wine. Tonight, she didn’t even taste the liquid pouring down her throat.
Asher sauntered up to the two of them. Where the hell had he been a minute ago when she’d needed him?
He grinned at her, his eyes flashing mischief and mayhem. Whatever he’d sauntered over for couldn’t be good.
“Interesting wardrobe choice, Firecracker.”
Asher wasn’t the first person to give her that nickname. Her bright hair made it an obvious choice. Why couldn’t Knox have latched onto it instead of doc?
“Her beauty sleep was disturbed,” Knox said, his tone ripe with laugher. “Although I have to admit I like the robe better than the pearls, heels and business suit.”
Avery’s shoulders straightened and she wished she’d thrown on a pair of those heels so she could look him in the eye when she glared at him.
Being five foot four was often a hindrance, especially in the male-dominated field of nautical archaeology.
When she’d first started her career she’d wanted to eliminate at least one disadvantage when dealing with older male colleagues who tended to dismiss a young female out of hand. Heels and professional clothing had been her solution. And, over the years, had sort of become her signature. In her mind, projecting a competent, conservative image could never be a bad thing.
But apparently Knox McLemore didn’t see it that way.
“Hmm,” Asher murmured, taking a pull on his own beer. His gaze drifted down, lingering at the V where her robe closed. There wasn’t any heat in the perusal—it was more like it was a habit. “You do realize that just makes me want to find out what you’ve got on underneath, right?”
“Stop sexually harassing our employees, Ash. We’re going to end up with a lawsuit.” Knox frowned, his lips pulled into a tight, thin line.
A little-boy grin curled across Asher’s lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Avery realized Asher wasn’t playing with her, he was intentionally riling up Knox. Which was fine with her. The man deserved some of his own back.
Drawing another sip from her beer, Avery casually mentioned, “Technically, I’m not your employee.”
The corners of Asher’s eyes tipped up a little higher and his smile went to megawatt. “Does that mean I’m free to sexually harass you?”
Avery opened her mouth, but Knox beat her to it. “No, no you are not.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” she answered.
Asher chuckled, clinking the neck of his bottle against the one she still held in her hand. Then he winked and sauntered away. Avery watched him, not with lust, but fascination. She’d never had that kind of confidence.
“Stop staring, doc. Trust me, you don’t want to go there.”
“I didn’t...I don’t...” she sputtered, finally slamming her mouth shut.
Wrapping a hand around her arm, Knox led her through the room to the table he’d been propped against when she walked in. He settled his hips back against the edge. She did the same.
“Stay. Mingle. Have a beer. You’re going to be part of the team for the next couple weeks, Avery. It’s probably a good idea that you get to know the crew.”
The way he said her name, his low, smooth voice caressing each syllable, sent a jolt of something twisting through her. Was it the first time he’d actually used her name? She thought maybe it was.
She liked it a hell of a lot better than doc.
“I don’t need to braid hair, have a pillow fight or sneak beer from my parents’ fridge in order to bond with your team, Knox. I’d hope your crew is professional enough to do the same. No one has to like me in order to do their job.”
“No, you’re right. No one has to like you. It would make things easier, though. On everyone.”
They sat there, the weight of their silence, in contrast to the laughter and music surrounding them, pressing in on her until she had to say something.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be a part of the team. I’m not very good at bonding with colleagues.”
She should have felt anxious about making the confession. But there was something about Knox—while he usually made every muscle in her body tighten with tension, at the moment he’d somehow managed to put her at ease.
“That sounds...depressing.”
They sat there for several minutes. Avery watched as the people around them laughed. Why couldn’t she be that way? Why couldn’t she feel comfortable socializing like this?
Out of nowhere, Knox reached out and snagged a strand of her hair, running it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger. “Something tells me you worry too much. I like your hair down.”
The unconnected thoughts had her brain spinning. Or maybe that was the beer.
His hand continued down, the backs of his fingers brushing against the edge of her robe.
“Ash isn’t wrong. I’m dying to know what you’ve got on under this thing. Want to hear my guess?”
Avery swallowed. She did and she didn’t. She could take Asher flirting with her because she wasn’t attracted to him despite his charm and good looks.
But she didn’t think she could take Knox messing with her. Already she could feel the tide of blood rushing to the spot where his finger had brushed against her skin.
Somehow she found the strength to shake her head. Unfortunately, for some reason, the word, “Yes,” tumbled out of her parted lips at the same time.
Something mischievous flashed through his dark eyes, joining the dangerous grin that tugged at his wicked mouth.
“Well, judging by the rest of your clothes, something silky. Lots of lace. Probably in some soft color like pink or baby blue.”
Her voice was breathy, but not nearly as shaky as it could have been, when she responded, “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m wearing cotton shorts and a Texas International University tank top.”
His grin widened. “Now why would you think that would disappoint me? Actually, I like the idea of that a hell of a lot better than the lingerie.”
He leaned closer, his lips near enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His scent welled up around her, a combination of musk and salt and man.
His low, quiet voice rumbled in her ear, “Gives me hope that deep down, beneath that perfectly polished surface you prefer to show the world, there’s a real woman.”
Breath caught in the back of her throat. Heat and longing flooded her system. Her fist tightened around the bottle in her hand, needing something to hold on to so that she wouldn’t reach for him.
And then he had to go and ruin the moment.
Knox murmured, “Sleep tight, doc,” before walking away, leaving her alone, breathless and seriously turned on.
Bastard.
