The Devil and the Deep

CHAPTER TEN



Mary chafed against the four silken bonds that imprisoned her, legs akimbo, upon Vasco’s bed. For no matter how many times she shared it with him she would never regard it as hers. She eyed the big brooding pirate as he prowled back and forth. He was wearing breeches and boots and nothing else save the sunlight slanting through the portholes.

He stopped and turned to face her from the foot of the bed, shoving his hands on his hips. ‘I’m waiting, Mary.’

His low rumble set her heart aflutter and her nipples to attention. She watched as his glittering blue eyes took in their state of indecency. How could they not when she was barely covered? When he had stripped her to her undergarments not ten minutes ago this had not been the expected outcome.

Damned stubborn man.

‘I insist that you untie me immediately, Captain Ramirez.’

Vasco chuckled, his gaze fanning over the hard peaks tenting her chemise. ‘Methinks you like to be tied up, Lady Mary,’ he murmured, planting a knee on the bed.

She glared at him both scandalised and titillated at the thought. ‘Captain Ramirez.’

He ignored the warning in her voice, slowly advancing onto the bed. ‘I do so prefer it when you call me Vasco. Like you did that day on the deck when I washed your hair.’ He prowled closer on his hands and knees until he was sitting on his haunches between her spreadeagled legs. ‘And when I first touched you here,’ he murmured, stroking his finger down the open central seam of her linen drawers.

She sucked in a breath and he smiled triumphantly. ‘Like you did last night and the night before that and the five nights before that.’ He stroked again.

Mary squirmed against his hand. ‘Vasco, please,’ she moaned. ‘It’s the middle of the day. The crew...’

He shook his head and chuckled that she could still keep a sense of propriety while tied to his bed. ‘Say it,’ he insisted. ‘If you want it, Mary, you’re going to have to ask for it.’

Lady Mary Bingham had been a willing and eager bed partner but there was part of her he hadn’t been able to reach, a part she kept aloof from him even when she was in the throes of her release. It made him feel like a common street urchin and she the lady who was condescending to allow him to use her body while she had nothing better to do.

He needed to know that this fever was burning in her blood too.

Mary shook her head. Gently bred ladies did not talk so.

She’d already taken a pirate as a lover. How much more did he want? ‘I will not.’

Vasco smiled at her, watching as she bit down on her bottom lip and fought against closing her eyes. ‘You know you want to, Mary, I can feel it right here...’ He slipped a finger inside her where it was hot and slick and she gasped. ‘I know you, Mary.’

Mary hated how he could addle her senses so quickly. ‘You know nothing about me, sir,’ she said vehemently as her hips moved against him restlessly.

Vasco grinned. ‘I know you like this,’ he said, pushing up her chemise with his other hand, exposing a creamy breast and rosy nipple that puckered quickly beneath the stroke of his fingers.

‘I know you have this tiny strawberry birthmark just here,’ he said, satisfied to hear her whimper as he withdrew his finger, shifting it slightly to the left to the crease where her inner thigh met the very centre of her. ‘I know you like it when I lick you there,’ he murmured, lowering his head and putting his tongue to where his finger had been, to the mark that had fascinated him right from the beginning.

‘Vasco...’ Mary cried, arching her back as his finger re-entered her and his tongue swiped in long, lazy, knowing strokes.

He smiled as he pulled away, sitting back on his haunches, his finger still stroking deep inside her. ‘I know me tying you up excites you even though I know you’re hearing your uncle’s voice telling you you’re going to hell.’

Mary also hated how he seemed to be able to read her mind. ‘Well, I’ll be seeing you there first, Captain Ramirez,’ she said haughtily.

Vasco threw back his head and laughed. When he stopped his eyes glittered down at her and he started to stroke her in earnest. ‘Ah, but what a way to go, Lady Mary,’ he taunted as he relentlessly increased the pressure.

Mary especially hated how he could bring her to her peak so effortlessly. ‘Vasco,’ she whimpered and moved against him, desperate for the rush.

He quirked an eyebrow, easing back a little, refusing to give her what she craved. If she wanted to use him then she could damn well say the words. ‘Yes, Mary, what do you want?’

Mary rocked her pelvis against his hand as the maddening friction plateaued, divinity frustratingly out of reach. ‘Please, Vasco,’ she gasped.

Vasco was harder than he’d ever been in his life, watching her lying before him half exposed, fully abandoned, head tossing from side to side, her body begging for that which she would not put into words.

He shook his head. ‘Please what, Mary?’ he demanded, quickening the pace for a few tantalising seconds, then backing off.

Mary bit into her lip hard, lifting her hips off the bed. ‘Vasco!’

‘Say it,’ he growled.

She opened her eyes and glared at him. ‘Damn it, Vasco.’ But she knew in that second she’d have given him the world if he’d asked for it. ‘I like it when you do this to me,’ she said. ‘I want you to do it to me. I just plain want you. Now please...please...’ her wrists yanked at the bonds ‘...I beg of you...’

Vasco grinned. ‘Of course, Lady Mary, why didn’t you just say so?’

But the rebuke that came to Mary’s lips was lost as Vasco drove her over the edge in ten seconds. When she was capable of opening her eyes a little while later it was to his smug triumphant smile.

‘Okay, Vasco,’ she said, her breathing still not quite normal. ‘Untie me now.’

Vasco shook his head and the gleam in his eye was positively wicked as he unlaced his breeches.

‘I’m just getting started.’



THE next week flew by. Between long nights—and sometimes long days—below deck they made it to Micronesia, sailing into Weno in Chuuk State where they restocked and sorted out the official paperwork.

Chuuk, home to a giant lagoon, the final resting place for over a hundred ships, planes and submarines that had perished during fierce World War Two battles, was a magnate for wreck divers worldwide. Time and warm tropical waters had seen the wrecks bloom into breathtaking coral gardens and artificial reefs sporting a kaleidoscope of colours.

But they headed beyond that to the lesser known outer reefs fringing the deeper waters of the Pacific where Nathan had been convinced Inigo’s boat had gone down in bad weather. The islands of Micronesia had once been part of the Spanish East Indies and, Nathan believed, a rich hunting ground for a pirate who wasn’t picky or patriotic when it came to loot.

The fact that a veritable maze of two thousand plus, mainly uninhabited islands lay at his disposal, providing the perfect cover to lay low in between raids, had no doubt also been a plus for Inigo Alvarez.

The weather stayed calm and visibility was excellent as, for the first six days, Rick and Stella island-hopped, diving the area Nathan had deduced from his lifetime of research was the most likely resting pace for The Mermaid. It was about a hundred nautical miles square so they divided it up into a grid and painstakingly explored each segment from sun up to sundown.

Had they been in the Persephone or one of the other boats in the salvage fleet, they would have had all kinds of equipment to help them in their quest. But this was just a basic exploratory—old-fashioned treasure hunting at its best. Like they were kids again, pretending to find Spanish galleons while their fathers undertook their latest salvage operation.

And neither of them would have had it any other way.

The deepest water was ten metres but it still took a couple of dives for Stella to gain her confidence. Ever since she could swim, Stella had dived, and she’d held her open water diving certification for many years, but she hadn’t been in a wetsuit for some time now.

Rick, used to diving much, much deeper, enjoyed the slower pace and took time to admire the magnificent underwater scenery, including the curvy little water nymph in a wetsuit that left nothing to the imagination.

At night she wrote, more inspired than ever by being back in the water again, and he reviewed the data from their dives.

And then they burned up the sheets.

On the seventh day they rested. They anchored off one of the many sandy atolls, loaded up the dinghy and motored the short distance, beaching the little runabout high above the tide level. They lolled in the shallows, making love as the water lapped gently around their legs. They sunbathed nude and ate sandwiches and drank cold beer for lunch. They dozed under a stand of coconut palms.

Three other islands could be seen nearby, towering out of the glittering ocean, and in the distance another boat, probably a dive charter, slowly traversed the horizon. It was a reminder that they weren’t the only two people in the world, which had been an easy assumption to make these last idyllic days.

‘Maybe we could just move here?’ Stella said sleepily.

Rick smiled as he rolled his head to look at her. ‘Sounds good to me.’ If he was going to be stuck on a deserted island with anyone, she would be his preference. ‘What happens when the laptop runs out of battery?’ he teased.

Stella smiled too. ‘Don’t be practical,’ she murmured as she drifted off again.

When she woke the sun wasn’t as high overhead and Rick was lying on his stomach propped up on his elbows beside her. A sea breeze ruffled the papers he was reading. She lay there for a few minutes listening to the swish of the waves against the beach and the rustle of the wind through the palm leaves.

I could get used to this.

She rolled up onto her elbow, dropping a kiss on his bare shoulder. ‘What if it’s not here?’ she asked. ‘What if The Mermaid is like Atlantis or El Dorado?’

Rick turned his head and nuzzled her temple before returning his attention to the research material he’d printed off the web just prior to leaving the boat this morning. He’d pored over everything he could get his hands on since deciding to undertake this voyage and he’d come across some more potentially useful information last night.

‘It might not be here but I think your father’s research definitely supports its existence and his reasonings for The Mermaid being in these waters are very sound.’

Stella nodded. She hoped so. It would be good to know that something her father had committed so much of his time and energy to might be realised. They’d both been aware, subliminally, that this voyage had been a pilgrimage of sorts. A way to pay homage to Nathan and his dream.

Neither of them wanted to return empty-handed.

‘I’m going for a snorkel,’ she said. ‘You want to join me?’

Rick shook his head. ‘Maybe later.’

Stella kissed his shoulder again. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I’m going naked.’

Ah, now that got his attention.

He smiled at her before kissing her hard on the mouth. ‘Temptress,’ he muttered as he pulled away. ‘Be off with you.’

Stella laughed. ‘Okay, fine,’ she said, standing and stripping off her bikini where she stood, throwing it down on the papers he was reading.

Rick chuckled as he picked it up and looked over his shoulder to find her naked, hips swaying seductively as she sashayed down to the shoreline, a mask and snorkel in one hand. Her skin was a light golden brown from all the sun she’d been getting and as she turned and gave him a wave he copped a magnificent side view of full breast and tiny waist before she waded into the ocean. He levered himself up, turning to sit, papers still in hand, watching as the warm tropical waters slowly swallowed her up.

He realised after looking up for the tenth time in ten minutes he was too distracted to read. The reef was close to the shore so she was only a couple of metres out and he could see the bobbing of her naked bottom as she lazily circled back and forth across the surface, occasionally duck diving and blowing water out of her snorkel when she reappeared.

When a coconut fell beside him, missing him by about an inch, he decided it was time to give up and just enjoy the view. He absently picked up the coconut and shook it, hearing the swish of milk inside. He grabbed his diver’s knife out of his backpack and, being an old hand at husking coconuts, quickly did so.

By the time the outer shell was peeled away and he’d removed the stringy bark, revealing the hard smooth surface, Stella was emerging from the ocean like something from a James Bond film.

Except nude. Her blonde hair slicked back from her face, clinging to her naked back like a sheath of honey-gold silk.

Like a mermaid.

He brought the bald nut to his face and inhaled the sweet earthy aroma as he watched her walking towards him. The fragrance was pure Stella.

A fragrance he’d become quite addicted to.

Her bell tinkled as she drew closer, his erection increasing with her every footfall. When she threw the snorkel and mask down beside him his mouth was as dry as the powdery sand beneath him.

‘Do women practise that little hip swing or is it just part of their DNA?’ he asked, looking up into her face. Water droplets clung to her eyelashes and ran down her body.

Stella laughed as she deliberately reached behind her to wrap her hair around her hand and squeeze out the excess water. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She grinned.

‘Oh, yeah?’ he growled as he threw the coconut down and gently tumbled her to the ground.

Stella went down laughing, clinging to his shoulders as she settled against the soft sand. He straddled her, looming above. The grains felt warm and powdery beneath the cool skin of her back, as did the sun on her face, their formerly shaded position now mostly in light as the day grew later.

‘I’m going to have sand everywhere,’ she grouched good-naturedly.

‘That’s the plan.’ He grinned as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips and the curve of her waist were cool to touch. ‘Water cold?’ he asked as his tongue lapped at the water droplets still clinging and cooling her throat.

Stella shut her eyes and angled her neck to give him wider access. ‘A little.’

Rick smiled against her neck. He sat and groped around beside him. ‘Let’s see if we can’t warm you up.’

Stella opened her eyes just in time to see him holding a coconut and his diver’s knife over her abdomen. As a teenager she’d often watched him husk a coconut, the muscles of his back and arms way more fascinating than they should have been.

She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Been busy?’

He grinned as he struck the coconut with the handle of the knife right between the eyes. It capitulated easily, cracking in half, clear fluid running out over his hand and dripping onto her cool belly.

He eased it apart, gratified to hear her gasp as he poured most of the warm milk over her belly and breasts. Her nipples ruched before him and his erection surged. He groaned as the aroma of ocean and her wafted up to him and he bent his head to her.

‘I want to taste you here,’ he muttered. His hot tongue swiped over puckered nipples and she arched her back. He removed every trace of the warm juice before moving on.

‘And here,’ he said, going down, following the trail of liquid that had puddled in her belly button. He heard the suck of her breath as he lapped it up. She tasted sweet and salty. Like the ocean, tropical breezes and the soft sugary nirvana of coconuts.

He sat back on his haunches, watching her, waiting for her to open her eyes. When her eyelashes fluttered open he picked up the half-coconut that still had a little milk remaining.

‘And here,’ he murmured, trickling it between her legs, as he had done with the mango, supressing a groan as she licked her lips and panted, her thighs parting, the sunlight glistening there so he could see it coating all of her.

He tossed the shell aside, swooping his head down, his hands gliding up her body to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing across the nipples.

It was then, as he used his elbows to push her open to him more, that he noticed it for the first time. The sun shone like a spotlight and it was suddenly obvious.

A tiny blemish. A pink birthmark.

Exactly where Lady Mary had hers.

He stared at it, as he tried to think past the pounding of his heart.

So...she was Lady Mary?

But the heady aroma of her drowned in coconut juice was rendering his thought processes useless. He wanted to ask her. Needed to know.

He should stop and demand that she tell him the truth.

But she was making those little noises at the back of her throat again and as another waft of coconut headed his way he actually salivated.

Stella rotated her pelvis as the anticipation built to breaking point. Rick liked to tease but this had gone on long enough. She knew the touch of his mouth was coming and every second he made her wait, she could feel herself get wetter.

‘Rick!’ she begged, unable to bear it any longer. ‘Please,’ she whimpered, lifting her hips involuntarily. ‘Please.’

It was the whimper that did it—just as it always did. There would be time enough for questions later. So he shut his eyes and gave her what she was asking for, licking that cute strawberry mark just as Vasco had done, savouring the sweet coconut essence of her, pinning her to the sand with his tongue and not letting her up until her climax rent the air.

* * *

Stella woke the next morning to a tight feeling at her wrists and a strange sense of foreboding. It was immediately allayed when she saw Rick, one knee planted on the edge of the mattress, his face hovering over her, smiling.

‘Morning,’ he murmured, kissing her.

She kissed him back. It wasn’t until she tried to move her arms to hug him that the foreboding returned. It only took a moment to figure out why. She looked behind her. Her wrists were tied with some kind of material to the posts of his bed. As were her feet.

She was naked and spreadeagled.

Her pulse leapt at the illicitness of it all. Was Rick going to enact the scene from Pleasure Hunt where Vasco had tied Mary to the bed?

She looked at him. ‘You do know that, unlike Mary, I am perfectly willing to ask you for sex and, not only that, but to tell you how, when, where and the number of times I want you to do me, right?’

Rick chuckled as he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve noticed. You’re really not her, are you?’ he asked innocently.

Stella nodded as she averted her eyes to her ankle ties. ‘Is that one of my sarongs?’ she asked.

Rick grinned. ‘Sorry. I’m all out of eighteenth-century satin sashes and I thought it’d be gentler on your wrists and ankles than nautical rope.’

Stella pulled against the bonds to test them and had to agree. Even if she wanted to get out of them, which she didn’t, she knew it would be futile—sailors knew how to tie knots.

‘How on earth did you manage not to wake me?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘Well, it took me a while and, thankfully, you’re a heavy sleeper.’

Stella nodded. That was true. ‘So, was there a purpose to this or are you just into bondage suddenly?’

Rick looked at her, naked and spread on his bed like a gift from Neptune himself. He was ragingly hard and pleased he’d decided to put on some boardies instead of being naked as he’d originally thought yesterday when he’d lain in post-coital glory on the beach beside her, formulating this plan to get a confession out of her.

He wasn’t sure why knowing whether she was Lady Mary was increasingly important to him.

It just was.

He’d often wondered if she thought about him. Knowing that she might have fantasised about them while he’d been training himself not to was beyond tantalising. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was something else he didn’t want to examine too closely, but he had to know.

And he’d known that there was only one way to find out.

He smiled down at her as he pushed off his bed. ‘Oh, there’s a purpose.’

Stella’s nipples hardened beneath his incendiary blue gaze as she noticed she was the only one naked. ‘You’re dressed.’ She pouted.

His smile broadened. ‘For now.’

Stella’s heart beat a little faster at the promise in those two incredible eyes the exact colour of the tropical waters surrounding them.

Rick prowled around the bed as Vasco had done, his gaze boldly running over every delectable inch of her. Blatantly lingering on her breasts and the strawberry mark he couldn’t see from this distance but he knew the exact location of—low and to the left of her centre. Their gazes locked as he roamed, dragging out the moment.

He stopped at the foot of the bed, shoving his hands on his hips. ‘I discovered something very interesting yesterday,’ he murmured.

The timbre of his voice dragged silken fingers across her skin. ‘Really?’ She hoped she sounded nonchalant, that the vibration of her madly fluttering heart wasn’t shaking the entire bed.

He nodded as he planted a knee on the mattress. ‘It’s intriguing to say the least,’ he continued.

‘Something to do with Inigo?’ she asked as she watched Rick prowl towards her, the light of a fictional pirate in his eyes.

He shook his head. ‘No. Something to do with you.’

‘Oh?’ Her voice sounded high and breathy as he came right in close, his knees brushing her spread inner thighs.

Rick reached out and brushed his fingertips down her exposed centre. Stella gasped and bucked. He smiled. ‘You like that, don’t you?’

Stella bit her lip and nodded her head as the brush became something more purposeful. ‘Yes.’

The hammer of his heart was loud in his head as his finger followed the path of her heat and sank inside her. ‘And this?’

Stella whimpered. ‘Yes.’

‘You want more?’ he asked, sliding another finger home, using his thumb to rub the spot that was already tight and hard.

Stella was ready in an instant, balanced on a knife edge of anticipation. ‘Yes.’

Rick smiled. ‘Don’t you want to know what I discovered?’

She arched her back as he picked up the pace. ‘Yes, yes.’

Rick swallowed. She looked so bloody desirable at the mercy of his hand that he wanted to rip his boardies off and forget the damn birthmark but it was about more than the blemish.

Had she ever fantasised about them together? As he had despite Nathan’s unspoken law? Had she felt something more than friendship for him?

As he had.

He had to know.

He withdrew his fingers from inside her. ‘I found that you, too, have a birthmark.’

Stella felt her orgasm recede beyond her reach as her breath stuttered to a halt. She opened her eyes to find his blue ones glittering down at her.

‘Strangely enough,’ he continued, sliding his finger to the left, locating the blemish immediately, ‘in exactly the same spot that Lady Mary has hers. Coincidence, Stel, or are you Lady Mary?’

She shook her head vigorously. This was not what she’d expected. ‘No.’

What would he think if he knew? He’d already guessed too much about her fantasy life from Pleasure Hunt.

He quirked an eyebrow as he brushed his finger against the birthmark again. ‘Really?’

Stella panted even as she fought not to. ‘Really.’

He moved his hand from her completely. ‘I think you’re lying, Stella. Mary’s so very, very familiar to me.’

It was something he’d only just realised, too caught up in the big things to recognise the subtleties of the character. The nuances. The jut of her chin, the turn of her head, the glimpse of her humanity beneath all her starched upper-class Britishness.

Stella glared at him, now torn between telling him to go to hell and lying to him so he’d finish what he’d started.

And she felt vulnerable.

A state that had nothing to do with her nudity.

He wanted her to look at things that she’d never questioned too deeply.

‘What the hell does it matter?’ she asked in exasperation, yanking against her bonds.

‘Because...’ He looked into her simmering olive gaze, knowing that if he was demanding the truth from her then the least he could do was return the favour. ‘Because despite what your father decreed, I used to fantasise about you. Not consciously, never consciously. But in my dreams...that was different. And...’

This bit was the hard part. The bit he’d never admitted to before, not even to himself. ‘I guess I’d always wondered...hoped, maybe...that you might have done the same.’

Stella’s heart ticked away madly like a thousand halyards tinkling in a stiff breeze. There’d been a vibe between them as teenagers—not spoken about or acted upon. But if she’d known that he used to dream about her she might have ignored her father’s silent censure.

He looked so serious kneeling between her legs. Torn, surprised even, as if his words had come as a revelation to him too.

How could she not reciprocate?

Her father was gone and, even if he hadn’t been, she was an adult, no longer needy of his approval.

‘Yes,’ she murmured, their gazes locking. ‘Lady Mary is me. Beneath all those layers of clothing she has my heart and soul. And my desires.’

The admission was amazingly cathartic. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly as dry as the ties binding her to the bed.

‘When Vasco stormed into my head, I knew he was you. Deep down anyway—it took me a little while to recognise it consciously. And when I knew that, I knew whoever his woman was going to be, she would be me.’

Rick smiled triumphantly as Vasco had done at Mary’s capitulation.

Stella rolled her eyes. ‘I fantasised constantly about you when I was a teenager. And when I was writing the book...’ She stopped and blushed at the memory. ‘Let’s just say that Mr Buzzy got quite the working out.’

Rick blinked, relief flooding through his veins. ‘So, I wasn’t alone?’ he murmured.

She shook her head. ‘You weren’t alone.’

Rick laid both hands over his heart and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’ Then he leaned forward and brushed his mouth lightly over hers, murmuring, ‘Thank you, thank you,’ as he dropped a string of tiny kisses before sitting back on his haunches again.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, a smile on her face. ‘You going to untie me now?’

Rick shook his head as he ripped at the Velcro fastener on his boardies, a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘I’m just getting started.’

* * *

The next day Stella and Rick were at six metres and just about to head back to the boat for lunch when Stella spotted a large shape looming below them. Visibility was still excellent but the find was partially obscured by a cascading wall of coral. Rick’s breathing and heart rate picked up and he made a conscious effort to control them as they headed down to explore further.

As they neared, the ghostly grey shape of a remarkably intact, large, old wooden ship appeared. It was wedged into some kind of rocky ravine, the outer ledge of which fell away into the deep blue abyss of Pacific Ocean.

They both hovered above it for a moment, their torches aimed at the broken waterlogged beauty, stunned to be finally staring at something they’d both wondered from time to time ever really existed.

Was it The Mermaid? They couldn’t know for certain—yet. But Rick felt sure in his gut—either that or it was Nathan’s presence. They glided slowly through the waters surrounding the ship, trying to find any outward identifying marks but, whatever the origins, Rick already knew from years of salvage experience they had found something truly amazing.

They circled it in awed silence, the coral encrusted ship spooky in its watery grave. Adrenaline buzzed through Rick’s veins as he became more certain, the dimensions of the find putting it in The Mermaid’s league. They didn’t attempt to go in—that would come later when a more detailed survey had been undertaken. Too many divers had got themselves trapped and died in wrecks to be foolhardy.

And, as Nathan had always drilled into him, a shipwreck was a sacred site. The final resting place of the poor souls that had perished along with it and as such was to be treated with respect.

They discovered a figurehead when the bow came into view but it was too decayed and encrusted with weedy growths and coral life to tell if it was the laughing mermaid that had famously spearheaded Inigo Alvarez’s ship. The nameplate proclaiming the ship as La Sirena was nowhere in sight.

Of course. It was never that easy...

Rick and Stella made their way to where the ghostly shape had settled on rock. He shone his torch, inspecting the damage, trying to ascertain a point of impact. Stella shone hers too, the beam hitting rock, a flash of something reflecting back. Stella looked closer, her heart thumping loudly in the eerie underwater stillness, her hand reaching for the object. She scooped it up, lay it flat in the palm of her hand, shone her torch on it.

A gold coin.

Rick felt a tug on his leg. He turned to find Stella, who was grinning like a loon, holding up what appeared to be a round coin. His heartbeat climbed off the scale as she passed it over.

It was gold and in good nick. Gold coins of good purity usually survived in water unscathed, unlike bronze coins that were degraded by salinity.

It was also Spanish.

It still didn’t confirm the ship was The Mermaid. Archaeologists were going to have to decide that. But it was another strong indicator.

He grinned back and hugged her tight.

* * *

A couple of hours later they were back on board and had finished notifying the necessary people. Rick had organised for the marine archaeology company they used to send a team and had started the application process for a permit to salvage.

Stella was on deck looking at the marker buoy in the distance when Rick came up behind her. She was in a vest top and sarong and he pressed the chilled bottle of champagne they’d brought way back in Cairns for just this occasion against one shoulder as he kissed the other.

Stella jumped at the shock of it, then turned in his arms, and hugged him. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

Rick held her close, the boat bobbing gently. Realising Nathan’s dream had meant as much to her as it had to him.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said, pulling back slightly. ‘When they confirm it’s The Mermaid, I’d like to bring Dad’s ashes out here and scatter them.’

Nathan had always wanted them scattered at sea, but until now Stella hadn’t felt ready to let him go.

Rick nodded. ‘Good idea.’ He smiled. ‘Let’s drink to Nathan,’ he said.

They eased apart and he handed her the flutes as he worked the cork. Its pop was lost in the vast ocean surrounds and he quickly filled the glasses, handing her one.

‘To Dad,’ she said, holding her glass aloft.

Rick nodded, clinking his flute against hers. ‘To Nathan.’

He glanced at her as she sipped the frothy nectar and she grinned at him. The breeze caught her drying blonde hair and the sun sparkled on the sea behind her like the champagne bubbles. She looked like a mermaid, a sirena, and he felt deep, deep-down-in-his-bones happy.

‘What?’ Stella asked as the glitter in his gaze became speculative.

‘I think I love you,’ he murmured.

The words fell from his lips and he didn’t even bother to recall them because he knew in that instant that they were the truth. He did love her.

He’d loved her for ever.

Stella blinked. ‘Okay...no more champagne for you,’ she joked.

He laughed, then sobered, his gaze roaming her lovely familiar face. ‘I’m sorry, I know that’s sudden but...it’s not really. It’s just been a long time coming.’

Stella realised he was serious. Her pulse tripped. ‘But...I thought the ocean, this...’ she threw her arm out, indicating the glory of the scenery around them ‘...is your great love.’

Rick shook his head. ‘This is nothing without you.’

Stella’s heart clanged like a gong. She didn’t know what to say. The fact that she loved him too was a no-brainer. It was suddenly as clear as the tropical waters fringing the pristine Micronesian reefs. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t loved him. It had always been there, snuggled inside her. She just hadn’t been free to admit it.

Until now.

But she’d already lived through one broken marriage because of the sea and, no matter how much she loved him, she couldn’t be with a man who wouldn’t put her first.

Stella shook her head sadly, not allowing her love to bloom. ‘It’s not enough, Rick. Love’s not enough. My father loved my mother, after all. I need to know you want me more than the ocean. That you’ll put me before it. Something my father and your father never did.’

Rick stood firm, understanding her reticence, knowing that what he did for a job was hard on relationships but refusing to be cowed by it. ‘You want me to walk away, I’ll walk away.’

Stella lifted her hand and stroked his whiskers. ‘I can’t ask you to do that, Rick. I’m not going to forbid you from the ocean—I saw how much grief that caused my mother in the long run. That has to be your choice.’

Rick lifted his hand to cover hers with his. ‘The sea is not an easy mistress, Stel. She’s selfish and addictive. But I’ve seen what happened with Nathan and Linda, and lived with the consequences of my father’s inability to choose between two loves. Believe me, I know the heartache of that just as well as you and I don’t want that for you and me. Rest assured, Stel, I will never put the sea before you.’ His hands slid to her shoulders. ‘Never.’

Stella wanted to believe him. His brilliant blue eyes glittered with openness and honesty and she wanted to fall into them for ever. But... ‘So tell me how this works?’

He shrugged. ‘Up until we decide to start a family—’

‘Wait,’ she interrupted, the boat suddenly rolling under her feet a little. ‘We’re starting a family?’

‘Sure...one day. Absolutely.’ He frowned. ‘I thought you wanted kids?’

Stella felt a lump in her throat as she nodded. ‘Absolutely. Not soon. But one day.’

‘Well, until then,’ he continued, gently rubbing his hands up and down her arms, ‘we can divide our time between Cornwall and salvage jobs. You have a portable career, Stel, and you love the business as much as I do so...why not?’

Why not indeed? Stella thought. Just because her parents hadn’t been able to compromise didn’t mean that they couldn’t. And he was right—as long as she had a laptop and access to the Internet, her office could be anywhere.

‘And when kids come along I’ll manage the business from land and get someone in to do the hands-on stuff.’

Stella frowned at him. ‘You would do that?’

He nodded. ‘For you, I’d do it happily. I guess I’d like to go and spend the odd few days here and there at sea, checking on things, and when the kids get older we can take them on the Persephone in the school holidays just like when we were young.’

Stella felt that lump thicken as he painted a picture she’d dreamt about all her life. One that she was supposed to have lived with her own parents, but her father hadn’t ever been able to stay on land long enough.

‘How do I know you’re not just telling me stuff I want to hear?’ she asked. ‘How many times do you think Dad promised Mum things would be different next time he came home?’

Rick pulled her in close to him. ‘I’m not Nathan.’

He held her fiercely for a moment before pulling back to look into her eyes.

‘I loved your father, he was like a father to me, you know that, but I was a little jealous of you having Linda. I wished she could have been my mother too. I never got how Nathan had such a terrific woman like Linda and didn’t appreciate her. I’ve seen two male role models in my life blow it with women who loved them with far-reaching consequences, so, trust me, I won’t ever make that mistake.’

Stella nodded. She believed him when he said he didn’t want to make the same mistakes. Hindsight had put them both on the same page and love would keep them there.

‘I love you,’ she murmured, freeing her heart, letting her love bloom.

Rick smiled a slow steady smile as she said the three words he’d been waiting to hear nearly all his life.

Better late than never.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

Stella laughed. ‘A yes to what?’

‘Embarking on a lifelong pleasure hunt?’ he teased.

She smiled and raised her glass. ‘That’s a hell yes.’

Rick lowered his head. ‘Then let’s get started,’ he whispered.

* * * * *