In Deep Waters. Melissa Mcclone
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bring your gear over with the supplies.”
The sooner she got to the other ship, the sooner her search for the Isabella began. Kayla smiled. “Thank you, Pappy.”
“Hold on and keep moving.” He assisted her onto the gangway. “It’s not that choppy, but whatever you do, don’t look down.”
She gripped the handrails and took a step. The plank moved up and down, following the motion of the waves. Water seeped through her shoes, wetting her socks and feet.
Don’t look down.
That hadn’t been in any of her books, but she knew good advice when she heard it.
Kayla stared at the crew standing on deck. She focused her gaze on one man with hair the color of coal. He stood out from the others. Though he was simply standing, he exuded a confidence and an arrogance Kayla found both appealing and unnerving.
With a gold hoop in his left ear, he was more pirate than white knight. It was much too easy to imagine him at the helm of the Isabella, barking orders to his crew, stealing treasures from ships sailing the Pacific and kidnapping their female passengers. No doubt he whispered seductive phrases in Spanish, if Kayla guessed his ancestry correctly, before ravishing the maidens locked in his cabin.
As if reading her mind, his dark-as-midnight eyes met hers with such intensity she almost took a step back.
She swallowed hard. Twice. It didn’t help.
Dangerous was the only way to describe him. She wouldn’t call him handsome. Not unless you liked tall-dark-ruggedly-sexy-one-hundred-percent-males. She didn’t, but her body forgot that fact. For some strange reason, her pulse picked up speed. Adrenaline? Attraction? Standing midway across the plank, she wasn’t sure of the difference right now.
The only thing she knew to do was keep moving.
Instinct told her to turn around, but she didn’t. Instead, Kayla forced herself to walk toward him. Not him, the ship. She took another step and another. Moving closer, Kayla found herself entranced, almost mesmerized, by his eyes.
Look away, look anywhere but at him.
She looked down. Right at the churning water. Oh, my…
“Watch out.”
The warning registered, but it was too late. The wave smashed into her and tossed Kayla against the rail. She hit hard against her left hip. Cold water drenched her, soaked through her clothes. Saltwater stung her eyes and filled her mouth. Despite the slippery rail, she hung on. Lifeline or not, she wasn’t taking any chances. She had researched what getting lost and rescued at sea entailed.
Strong arms lifted her and carried her onto the ship. She blinked to clear her eyes and came face-to-face with the pirate. His eyes were even darker up close. She shivered. From the cold.
“What were you doing just standing there?” Frustration—perhaps a little irritation—filled his voice. An all-American voice. No sexy foreign accent for this pirate, she realized with a twinge of disappointment. He drew his full lips into a thin line. “Do you always walk around with your head in the clouds?”
His comment brought back painful memories of being teased. She had never fit in at school. Or anywhere else. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“The least you could do is thank me for saving your life.”
She didn’t like his attitude, and she didn’t like being held in his arms. Her legs felt prickly. “I didn’t ask to be rescued.”
As he released her from his arms, he laughed. Her legs quivered on the rocking deck and wouldn’t support her weight. Kayla fell backward, landing with a not-so-graceful thump.
“You okay?” The tone of the pirate’s voice softened. He sounded genuine.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded. Talk about a memorable entrance. She remained seated on the wave-tossed deck and he helped her out of her life jacket. He handed her a blanket. “Here.”
She muttered thanks and dried herself. The world closed in on her, and she struggled to catch her breath. Kayla glanced up. Half a dozen men surrounded her. Not your average tenured history or archeology professor types, either. No, these guys would look more comfortable on the back of a Harley than in a classroom.
“Give the lady some room, boys,” the pirate said. “You’re crowding her.”
The men backed away, and Kayla’s breathing returned to normal. Perhaps the pirate wasn’t so dark and dangerous, after all. Perhaps he was a prince in disguise. Perhaps a gentle heart lay beneath his rough exterior….
Her legs prickled again. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”
“A little late for that.” His face darkened into a scowl.
Okay, he wasn’t a prince. She wasn’t a princess, so they were even. But he stood way up there, and she sat way down here. Time to lessen his height advantage. She rose and managed not to fall again despite the pin-and-needle numbness in her legs. The blanket pooled at her wet sneakers. She ignored it.
Kayla would spend the next month or two with these people—make that men. She didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot. She was a calm and cool professional. She could handle this. “Thank you for getting me on board.”
His frank appraisal made her blush. His mouth twisted. “I’m Ben Mendoza. This is my ship, my crew and my expedition.”
So he was the one in charge and looking for the Isabella in all the wrong places. Figures. All looks, no brain. At least she wasn’t itchy or shivering any longer. “I’m Kayla Water—”
“Look, Watertown—”
“It’s Waterton,” she corrected. “I realize your first impression of me might not be—”
“Why should my impression of you matter?”
She wet her lips. “Because we’ll be working together.”
He blew out a puff of air. “Now, that’s a good one.”
“I was sent here to help.”
Ben frowned. “The museum sent you to legitimize the operation and appease the investors.”
He had it all wrong. “But I’m—”
“Already a distraction.”
Kayla didn’t know what she’d done to upset him so much, but the expedition had bigger problems than searching in the wrong location. The pirate didn’t want her here. Too bad. She had the right to be here, and she was staying. Somehow she would make this work. “Mr. Mendoza, there seems to be a misunderstanding.”
“I understand things better than you think.” His eyes narrowed. “And I have one simple rule for you to understand. Stay out of our way. We have real work to do, Mrs. Waterson.”
A slap across the face would have hurt less, but she wasn’t going to let him get to her. “It’s Waterton. Ms., not Mrs.”
“Today’s our lucky day, boys,” a grizzly voice said from behind her. One of the “boys,” no doubt. “She’s…single.”
“When has that ever stopped you, Wolf?” a man with a distinctive Southern drawl asked.
The comments didn’t seem to register with Ben. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t care if your name is H2O. No one wants you here but the investors and the museum.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, boss,” the grizzly voice added.
Ben rolled his eyes. “But as long as you’re here, you are my responsibility, so don’t do anything stupid.”
The “again” was implied. Kayla’s mouth nearly gaped. He didn’t have a clue as to why she was here or who she was. Damn Mr. Andrews, the museum’s PR person, for not telling Ben