Chapter Five
“Mallory!” He lunged, flinging himself on his stomach and throwing his hands out, grabbing blindly. He caught and released a handful of weeds, of brush, before closing around skin.
Bony skin. Her fingers.
Scrambling forward on his stomach using his elbows, hanging onto her slipping fingers, he edged over to the side of the road. A trench of mud where the road had slid out from underneath her led him to Mallory. He looked down into her wide eyes, bright with terror.
The drop to the beach below was maybe fifteen feet, survivable, but it would hurt like hell sliding through the brush to get there. He reached down and grasped her wrist. She swung her other arm up to grasp his forearm, her manicured nails gouging his flesh.
“Dig your feet into the side of the hill,” he said as soothingly as he could, to calm her. “I’ll pull you up.”
She nodded frantically, tears streaking down her face.
“You have to help me now.” He tried to transmit a serenity he didn’t feel. “Put your feet against the hill.”
The tension vibrated through her arms as she swung her feet until she could brace them against the cliff. She started walking up, but one foot slipped and she fell free, dragging Adrian forward. Her nails scored his arm as her grip slipped.
“Adrian!” Her voice was strangled with fear, and he fought back his own.
“I’ve got you. I won’t let go.” With one hand, he tugged at his belt, hoping the webbed fabric was strong enough, wishing that he hadn’t already sent everyone else to camp.
“Adrian.” His name came out in three syllables as she struggled to once again brace herself against the hillside. “What—are—you—doing?”
“Wait.” With no little difficulty, he pulled his belt free and slung it about the trunk of a nearby bush. He looped his free arm through it to secure himself, then slithered closer to the edge of the cliff. “Ready?”
“No. I think—I’ll—enjoy—the view—a little longer.”
“Smart ass,” he muttered and reached down. Together, her climbing, him pulling despite the mud that threatened his grip and her safety, they got her to the top of the cliff. Adrian flung himself on his back and she collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, much, he thought, like after a bout of sex.
He closed his arms around her, absorbed her trembling and offered her his strength.
Finally she lifted her mud-smeared face to him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He wanted to kiss her dirty mouth, wanted to stroke her mud-and-twig-tangled hair. But he had no right.
He released her abruptly and took advantage of her weight shift to sit up. “Can’t have the bride walking down the aisle on crutches, can we?”
The shock on her face had him pulling farther away, then standing.
“If you’re up to it, we can head to camp. There’s work to do.”
Slowly, bracing herself against the side of the truck, she stood. And damn it, her knees sagged. He stepped forward to catch her. She stiffened the minute he touched her.
“I’m okay.” She splayed her hand against his chest to push him away. “Once I get the mud out of my bra, I’ll be just fine.”
He forced a laugh past the image she’d painted in his mind, and once again released her. “We can hope the shower didn’t blow away.”
“There’s always the ocean. I’m fine, Adrian, really. Just a little shaky. Good thing you’re a good driver or we might have all gone over last night.”
“I hate to tell you, Mal. The road was about six feet wider last night.” He nodded toward the cliff. “We could’ve gone down in a mudslide.”
Cautiously, she crept back to peek over the side and gasped.
“There will be a lot of that until things dry out a bit. So till then, you’re stuck here with me.”
Mallory limped into the camp, eschewing any help from Adrian, and grimaced when she saw the destruction. She couldn’t identify her tent from the others. All of them sagged with rainwater and lay tangled against the sand dunes that separated the camp from the sea. Twisted aluminum poles stuck up from the sand, marking the places the tents had once been.
Linda was directing cleanup, which at this point meant finding someplace that didn’t have standing water so they could set up the mess tent. She turned when Adrian walked up, looked him over, then turned to Mallory.
“What on earth happened?”
“A little accident,” Adrian said.
“If the mud was on your back instead of your front, I’d think we’d made a mistake leaving you alone up there.” She flashed Mallory a grin that confused her. She thought Mallory and Adrian had been fooling around and she was winking at Mallory? No jealousy at all? “Especially after that walk down memory lane last night. I’m telling you, this site is cursed.”
Mallory decided the best defense was to ignore her. She stepped forward. “How can I help?”
“Why don’t you guys clean up first?”
Adrian glanced around. “I think the shower tent is on the bottom of that pile over there.”
“Use the ocean.” Linda inclined her head toward the beach. “It’ll get most of that gunk off.”
Mallory grimaced at the thought of bathing in salt water; it would itch like hell later. But she had mud in her bra, down the front of her pants, in her hair, her ears. She had to get cleaned up.
And she’d left her clean clothes in the truck up on the hill.
The hell with it. She was heading for the surf.
Adrian came on her heels, also without a change of clothes. “Your stuff in the truck?” he asked.
“Yep. Yours?”
“Yep.”
“So no points for planning ahead, huh?”
She stopped dead when she reached the apex of the sand dune and looked out at the Miss M, tilted at a thirty-degree angle in shallow water. Adrian swore and ran past her, shouting for Toney and Jacob.
The five of them working together got the boat righted. They found no significant damage, other than water in the gas tank. Adrian stepped away, grease from the gas and water filter now layered on top of the dried mud.
“So much for taking the boat to the city to catch your plane,” he said over his shoulder. “The filter should dry in a day or so. Looks like we’re stuck here.”
She struggled to hold on to her frustration. It wasn’t his fault they were stuck here, right? He hadn’t called the storm on them. He couldn’t have known the boat would be swamped.
Tears burning her eyes, she turned away, not wanting him to see her cry.
Adrian moved in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. She tensed at his touch and he dropped his hands away, his face grim through her blurred vision.
“It will be all right. Two days at the most. Two days won’t make that much difference.”
She wished the wedding was the entire problem. No, her real problem was staying here with all the memories of what they’d once been.
“You’ll feel better after you wash off. Come on.” He headed into the gently rolling water, peeling off his shirt. She turned away. The rippling muscles, the bronzed skin was too familiar.
He noticed that she balked. “Come on, Mallory, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before, and we’re not exactly going to get this mud off with our clothes on.”
She folded her arms and glanced behind her. The others had gone to camp, leaving them alone. Her nerves simmered.
“I’m not going in with you if you’re going in naked.”
He straightened, unzipping his shorts. “That’s a first.”
Damn, damn, why did he have to go and say something like that? Now he had her remembering more than one time they’d gone into the surf shamelessly and made love in the waves. She could feel his arms around her, feel his body push inside her. “It’s not a good idea.”
“We’re adults.” He shoved the shorts down and her face heated as she averted her gaze. His tone held the slightest hint of a taunt. “You said yourself you’d learned how to control your urges.”
Not where he was concerned. Even mud-splattered, he was—
No, she wouldn’t think about it as she walked into the surf. She gritted her teeth against the squeal—the rain had cooled the water significantly. It was an ice bath.
Even the waves didn’t get to the mud inside her blouse. Adrian stood a distance away, like a sea god, his arms raised, hands folded behind his head, the water lapping at his bare hips. She turned and unbuttoned her blouse, unhooked her bra to wash the mud embedded in the lace. Dropping to her knees and crouching to hide beneath the water, she scrubbed at the fabric, lamenting the effect the mud and salt water would have on the expensive garment.
“I can help you with that,” Adrian said, too close.
She whipped around, wrapping her arms around herself. Cautiously lifting one hand, she shoved her muddy hair back from her face and glared.
He moved toward her, and her eyes were drawn to a deep dimple in his cheek beneath the reddish stubble. Okay, actually her eyes were drawn elsewhere, but she forced herself to focus on the dimple.
“Go. Away.”
“A fine way to treat the man who saved your life,” he teased.
The tide flowed out and she caught a glimpse of bare hip. She had to get away from here, now. She didn’t trust her hormones. They remembered Adrian and wanted to party. Distance. She needed distance.
Still underwater, she tugged on her dirty T-shirt, giving herself another layer of defense. It wasn’t enough. His eyes flicked to the bra in her hand and she flushed. Damn it, she would not let him get to her. She rose and moved deeper into the water, holding his gaze, daring him to keep his eyes on hers and not glance at her breasts, no doubt clearly defined under her wet shirt.
He met her dare, his eyes only flicking to her cheek. “You have mud just there.”
Slipping his hand under her wet hair, he stroked his thumb over her cheek. She lost the will to pull away, slap him, any of the things she should do. She just looked into his eyes helplessly as he lowered his head.
A wave swept past them, and her ring floated free of her shirt, floated between them on its chain. Only then did she find the strength to yank away.
“Adrian,” she said, at once chiding and regretful. “It’s—it would be a mistake.” She walked out of the ocean, her shorts still full of mud. Maybe Linda was right. Maybe this site was cursed.
Mallory was still shaking as she helped put the camp in order, a cumbersome task, but one that left plenty of time for thinking. For a moment there, she’d wanted nothing more than to kiss Adrian, to feel his familiar mouth, the scrape of his stubble against her skin and the heat that had been between them.
She had forgotten all about Jonathan. A woman in love didn’t do that. Especially when her reason for forgetting her fiancé was a man who had hurt her.
She found Adrian settling Dr. Vigil in his tent. She softened when she saw the old man and smiled at him. His night in the truck had taken its toll—he looked exhausted. Adrian was good to look after him before he righted his own tent.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. I need the satellite phone. Or is it still in the truck?”
“Linda had it last. Ask her.”
She crossed her arms, feeling the need to explain. “I’m calling the airline and Jonathan.”
Adrian nodded, bending a leg of the cot in place, not looking back. “Go ahead. Just don’t tell him what we have out here.”
It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t talking about the two of them and their almost-kiss. She gaped. “Surely you don’t think Jonathan—”
He straightened and turned, exasperated. A fine sheen of sweat coated his skin. She hadn’t noticed it was all that hot. Now she did.
“I tell everyone the same thing, Mal. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”
“Can’t,” she muttered, shoving aside the tent flap. “They’re still too muddy.”
Adrian snorted a laugh and she flounced out.
“It’s good to see her again,” Robert said with a sigh, reaching in his breast pocket for the bottle of pills. “Good to hear the two of you bantering again.”
The pain must be bad after spending the night in the Land Cruiser. Robert never took the pills in front of anyone. Adrian pretended not to see. “It’s called fighting, Prof, and don’t get used to it.” He tested the cot’s stability, pressing both hands in the center. Either it was stable or had sunk deep enough in the sand. How the scrawny old man could sleep comfortably without padding, Adrian had no idea. “She’s not the same person. Neither am I.”
“Surely that can only be a good thing.”
Maybe, if they’d grown to want the same things. But no, if anything, the gap between them was wider than before. He needed this find; she needed a home.
“There’s no going back.” He hefted himself to his feet and walked over to the chest where Robert kept his books. It had survived several continents and a mudslide—had it kept the books dry in last night’s storm?
The professor rose, quicker than the old man had moved in a long time, but Adrian already had the lid open. He breathed a sigh of relief to see the books intact, no water damage. And yet the old man hovered at his shoulder.
“They’re fine, not even a drop got to them,” Adrian said. The prof had had some of these books for decades and they were valuable. Surely that was what had him nervous. Adrian shut the case and walked out of the tent to see Mallory with her head bent, one hand holding her hair back, the other holding the phone as she spoke to her fiancé.
Jonathan answered on the second ring. “Mallory! Are you calling from the airport? What time will you be home?”
Guilt flushed through her at the sound of his voice. She battled the emotion. She’d done nothing to feel guilty about.
“Um, no.”
Walking a short way out of camp, she explained to him what had happened last night, leaving out that she’d spent the night in the car with Adrian and had almost let him kiss her in the ocean. The whole time she spoke tension wound inside her, and she wondered at it. This was something beyond her control. She shouldn’t be worried about disappointing Jonathan when she couldn’t change anything.
“I’ll be home in plenty of time for the wedding, don’t worry.” She laughed, but he didn’t.
“Adrian seems awfully hospitable considering you came down there to serve him with papers. He did sign though, didn’t he?”
“They’re signed. Once we present them in court, I’ll be legally free.”
“And you’re happy about that.”
It was so unlike Jonathan to need reassurance. She wasn’t even sure how to offer it. “Of course I’m happy about that. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Seeing Adrian hasn’t brought back old feelings?”
At that moment, Adrian stepped out of Dr. Vigil’s tent and their gazes locked. “Is that what you’re worried about?” she managed.
“You didn’t fall out of love with him, Mallory.”
Of course. He’d been there, seen every stage of her grief. “I don’t love him anymore, Jonathan. I promise. I better go,” she added quickly, wondering why she couldn’t say she loved him with Adrian listening. “The phone is for emergencies only. I’ll let you know when I’m coming home. Bye!”
She hung up and swung on Adrian. “Are you eavesdropping?”
He snorted. “Didn’t hear anything good.”
“What did you expect to hear?”
He turned away. “Something that makes me think you love him and aren’t just making excuses not to go home. Look, I’m too tired to fight tonight. I’m going to turn in. Tomorrow I want to go check on the ship.”
“How can you? We have no boat.” She flushed at the slip. It wasn’t her boat. Of course it was too much to hope he’d missed it. Adrian cocked a brow.
“We have a skiff with a motor. Not big enough to get you to the city, but big enough to get out to the site.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You want to go with me?”
She hefted the phone in her hand. She was stuck here anyway, right? Might as well. She nodded, trying to hide her anticipation.
The sun glowed over the glassy surface of the cove as Mallory and Adrian readied the rubber skiff to enter the water the following morning. His muscles ached, both from pulling Mallory up the hill yesterday and cleaning up the camp. The place had been a disaster. Even with everyone helping, the task had consumed the day. And yet everyone had been in a good humor about it, Mallory too.
“When will the rest of your crew come?” she asked.
He hesitated. He’d always been able to talk to Mallory, but they were divorced, after all. And there was so much he needed to share with her. “This is my crew.”
She straightened and braced her hands on her hips. “Adrian, you can’t do this with five people.”
“It’s all I can afford. Get that end, would you?”
She bent to lift a corner of the skiff, not taking her eyes from him. “You’re funding this yourself?”
He shrugged, hating dredging up this memory, especially with her. “After Tunisia, I was the treasure hunter, not the archaeologist. No one believed I didn’t steal that casket. So between me and the professor, we funded this trip ourselves.”
She dropped her end of the boat and stared in shock. “Where did you get the money?”
He shook his head. “Robert took out a trust fund I never knew he had, and I approached a publisher, told them what I’d found, just not where. They gave me a hefty advance to write the book.”
“And you used it to fund the excavation.” Her voice sounded hollow with disbelief. “You aren’t going to be able to do much with only four divers.”
He smirked. “I’m hoping once I start uncovering artifacts, I can get more funding, though it will be tricky to ask for money and keep the find a secret at the same time.” He grinned. “You could come back for your honeymoon.”
“Oh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Jonathan would love that.”
Glad to get off the subject of his financial difficulties—which were never out of his head but never appealing to think about, he jumped on the new topic. “You don’t mind that you won’t scuba dive anymore, or snorkel or hike?”
“There’s more to a marriage than that.”
He climbed in the boat and reached for the tanks. She was so careful not to touch him, which only made him want to touch her, to see what would happen. He didn’t want to encourage her to cheat on her fiancé, but he wanted her to know she was making the right decision about divorcing him. The way she’d looked at him earlier, almost letting him kiss her, he was pretty sure she wasn’t.
“It seems like you need to have something in common.”
This time she snorted as she turned to grab more gear from the dock to load into the skiff. “We had tons in common and it didn’t do us any good. All Jonathan and I need is a common goal.”
“Which is?”
She did look at him then. “A family.”
The idea of her carrying another man’s child was like a punch in the gut. Well, hell, he’d asked for it. He turned to regain his balance. If he hadn’t been so selfish, so focused on his career, he could have given her the children, the home she wanted. He could have watched her grow heavy with his child and felt the pride of it.
He scrubbed a hand over his hair and looked away. Who the hell was he kidding? He’d make a terrible father. What did he know about being a dad? He sure as hell hadn’t learned good parenting skills from his family.
So he’d taken the easy way out and given up the woman he loved so he wouldn’t have to face the challenge, wouldn’t have to risk failing something as important as a child. And now he was paying the price.
Okay, the skiff was just too damn small. Once their dive gear was loaded on it, Mallory and Adrian barely had room to sit across from each other, and with the first swell, they’d be bumping into each other. Why had she said yes?
Because there was a centuries-old shipwreck just yards away, that was why.
The motor made conversation impossible, thank God. She used motion sickness as an excuse to face forward, away from him, but felt his gaze as he guided the boat out of the cove toward the barge. If only she could filter out how much of her anticipation and excitement was for the dive, and how much was from being with Adrian again.
If only she resented not being able to go home.
They bumped up against the barge, which had weathered the storm well. Mallory jumped out to secure the skiff, eager to put distance between them. He lifted the diving equipment to her and climbed out at a more leisurely pace, smiling, like he knew why she was in such a damn hurry.
After all, once they were in the water, there was no danger of conversation.
“So. What do you and Johnny do for fun?” Adrian asked, zipping his wetsuit up over his chest.
Mallory didn’t watch him dress this time. She was too busy wondering at the sarcasm in his tone. “What do you mean?” she asked coolly.
“Well, you said you hadn’t been diving in a couple years, and I know how much you love it. I was just wondering what Johnny considers a good time.”
“His name is Jonathan and we have a lot of fun together.” She hated that he was making her defensive.
“I’m sure you do. I’m asking how.”
“Um.” She shifted. “We go to museums and galleries and parties. We watch a lot of plays and movies.” She smiled. “He likes karaoke.”
“Why are you changing who you are for him?”
She turned away, digging in her bag for a band to secure her braid, scared to look at him, to let him know he spoke her own concerns. “I’m not, and I resent the implication.”
“Yeah?” He leaned closer. “Does he go hiking with you? Swimming? Any of the things you love to do?”
Jonathan didn’t, not saying that an active lifestyle was too tomboyish, but reacting with disapproval whenever she suggested they go diving or camping. Mallory would never admit it to Adrian. Yes, Jonathan was a touch old-fashioned, but they had the same goals and that was important.
“What has he done for you?” Adrian pressed.
“He let me come here and get this out of my system.” She picked up Jacob’s suit, wished she didn’t have to strip to get into it. Being around Adrian made her vulnerable enough. “What about you and Linda? She doesn’t dive, right? What do you do for fun besides the obvious?”
He choked out a laugh. “You think I’m sleeping with Linda? She’s just a girl.”
Mallory stiffened, even more defensive. God, she hated that feeling. “She’s old enough. And she seems to adore you.”
He shook his head with a wry grin. “She’s in love with Jacob. Are you blind?”
Apparently. She’d never even seen the two of them together, other than that night in the back of the Land Cruiser. “Then why was she coming out of your tent before dawn?”
“I don’t—” His mouth twisted, incredulous. “She was cutting my hair. She cuts my hair once a week. I don’t sleep with students. What kind of person do you think I am?” He looked at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You were jealous.”
The taunt in his voice only inflamed her temper. “Please. I’m engaged.”
“To a man who doesn’t sleep with you.”
“I don’t sleep with him.” Why did she feel the need to clarify?
“Because of me.” His tone was smug.
“God, your ego!” She tugged at the suit and staggered, off balance. Adrian caught her arm, not hard, just enough to have her stumbling. She breathed in his scent, her body responding to his proximity. Her pulse pounded with anticipation as she forced herself not to look at his mouth.
“It’s still there. Do you feel it?” His voice was a low rumble and his breath caressed her skin.
Her nerves jumped with longing to feel his mouth against hers. “It was never our problem.” Her own voice trembled, to her shame.
“No, faithfulness was.”
She looked up at him, her temper spiking. “I was never unfaithful to you.”
“Not with your body.” He flicked his gaze over her. “But you were with your heart, where it counted.” He motioned with his finger for her to turn.
Silently, he hoisted her tanks onto her shoulders, double-checked them, and she did the same for him. It was a trick to perform the task without touching him, but she managed. Even the wetsuit wasn’t barrier enough.
She understood what he meant about her being unfaithful and wished she didn’t. But she hadn’t stayed by him when the Tunisia dive dissolved, damaging Adrian’s reputation in the field. Their marriage had already been hanging by a thread at that point, and everything she’d done to help Adrian had been met with bitterness and resentment. He’d been angry she’d gone to Valentine Smoller. But she didn’t know who else to turn to for help when Adrian had been arrested for the theft of the casket no one could find. She should have listened to him when he insisted that Valentine had taken the artifact. Every time she’d gone to the jail on Adrian’s behalf, he’d berated her and accused her of wanting Valentine and his money, so she had finally taken what was left of her pride and gone home. He’d followed soon after and almost seemed disappointed when he didn’t find her cheating on him with his former partner. They’d fought, and he’d left for good.
She should keep that in mind. Remembering the good times when she was with him was too easy. And too dangerous.
He straightened, adjusting his tanks while he studied her. Her nerves were about to snap. Mistake, mistake, mistake. She should not be out here alone with him.
“What?” she snarled.
He grinned. “You never could handle the silent treatment.”
“You never were much for giving it.” Their fights had been raucous and hurtful. And frequent there towards the end. “Let’s check the site.” She took the regulator between her teeth and went into the water.