“Kayla, this is my daughter, Madison.” He stepped out of the doorway. “Madison, this is Miss Waterton.”
Kayla kneeled down to Madison’s level and shook her hand. Both had long hair, but his daughter’s was as dark as Kayla’s was light. “Madison Mendoza. What beautiful alliteration.”
Madison scrunched her brows. “Alli—what?”
Kayla smiled. “You have a pretty name.”
“Thank you.”
“How old are you?”
Madison raised three fingers. “Three.” She tugged on his arm. “When does the other lady come, Daddy?”
“What other lady, princess?”
“Peyna Deass.”
Ben scratched his head. Madison was a chatterbox, but he still had trouble deciphering some of her phrases. Before he could ask her again, she slipped inside Kayla’s cabin and fiddled with a cabinet latch. “Madison, this isn’t your cabin.”
“It’s okay,” Kayla said to his surprise. “She can’t hurt anything.”
“You’d be surprised what those little fingers can get into.” He peered around Kayla. Madison played with the latch, oblivious to everything else. She was growing up so fast. Too fast. She was the main reason he wasn’t about to screw up finding the Izzy. He wouldn’t let her down.
“Figure out who she’s talking about yet?” Kayla asked.
“No,” Ben admitted. Ladies never came aboard the ship. Until Kayla.
“She’s talking about me.”
“But you’re not—”
“A pain in the ass?” Kayla whispered.
Oh, hell. He was going to have to watch his language around Madison. Normally he was better, but every so often he forgot she was three years old. He’d have to have a little talk with Madison. And one with himself, too. “Kids…”
Kayla’s eyes sparkled with laughter. So the pretty historian had a sense of humor. Why wasn’t he more relieved?
“Daddy?” Madison glanced up, her eyes wide with excitement. “When does Peyna Deass arrive? I want to roll in the hay with her.” She turned to Kayla. “Daddy says that’s what she needs to do.”
“On that note, I’d better put my little magpie back in her cage.”
“I want to see the little magpie, Daddy. Is it in your room?” Before he could say a word, Madison skipped down the passageway toward his cabin.
“She’s cute.”
“Sometimes a little too cute,” he admitted. “What she said—”
“Why don’t we make your original apology all-inclusive?”
He couldn’t believe she was letting him off so easily. “Deal.”
“Speaking of which, do you want to start over again?” A smile as wide as the Panama Canal lit up Kayla’s face, and Ben’s breath caught in his throat. She introduced herself and winked. “Third time’s the charm.”
Okay, she had a great smile and a sense of humor. Not to mention a great body and face. Not that he was interested, but it didn’t hurt to look.
“So are you going to be the lucky charm that leads us to the Izzy?”
Kayla nodded. “Most definitely.”
Over his dead body. “You sound confident.”
“I am,” she admitted. “Because I know where the Isabella is…and you don’t.”
Chapter Two
She shouldn’t have said that.
It may have been the truth, but the moment the words escaped, Kayla regretted them. She’d glimpsed a softer side of Ben during his interaction with Madison. A side Kayla liked. She didn’t want to antagonize him and bring the mean pirate back.
Too late.
His eyes darkened; his nostrils flared. If he could breathe fire, she would be toast.
And then he laughed.
Kayla did a double take.
Yes, Ben Mendoza was definitely laughing. The deep, rich sound rippled through the air and surrounded her. His laugh was warm and intriguing and much too appealing. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried.
“That’s a good one.” The crinkles at the corners of his eyes should have made him look older. Harder. Instead, they took years off and softened the rugged planes of his face. Kayla’s heart beat triple-time. “You had me going for about thirty seconds.”
He didn’t believe her. Worse, he was laughing at her. Kayla’s blood boiled. She dug her nails into her palms.
What nerve. She’d felt guilty for saying something that might upset him when he was still a total jerk. And here she thought he was a sensitive father.
The man was as soft as an abalone. A mixture of embarrassment and anger washed over her. She wanted to tell him what she thought of his expedition. She wanted to tell him why he’d better listen to her.
She wanted to tell him where he could stick it.
Be poised, confident. You are the one in charge. Kayla tilted her chin. “I’m serious, Ben.”
His smile disappeared faster than a galleon caught in a hurricane. He started, then stopped himself. “The Museum of Maritime History signed off on our research.”
She nodded. “Jay Bruce verified your research. He’s no longer with the museum. In fact, several law-enforcement agencies have been trying to track him down. Seems he was selling bogus shipwreck information on the Internet.” The crestfallen expression on Ben’s face almost made her feel bad. “Almost” being the operative word.
“Why wasn’t I notified?”
“You just were.”
A vein throbbed in his neck, reminding Kayla he was human after all.
“Mr. Andrews was supposed to explain the details when the arrangements for my—” she searched for the correct word “—visit were made. I know you’ve been blindsided. I don’t blame you for being…defensive, but the museum and investors are a bit concerned with the lack of targets, given the vast area you’ve searched.”
“They said they were worried about the legitimacy of the operation.”
“That, too,” she admitted. “But funds are not unlimited.”
Ben Mendoza might be a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. The thoughtful look on his face told Kayla he understood the seriousness of the situation. She didn’t want to threaten him, but would if necessary. Finding the Isabella was the priority. Nothing else mattered. Especially his overinflated ego.
“I stand by our research,” he said. “We hired the top shipwreck researcher in the world to locate the Izzy.”
“And you’ve been using this ‘top’ researcher’s work for how many years? Two? Or is it three?”
Ben frowned.
Okay, maybe her last remark wasn’t called for, but Ben didn’t seem to realize she was one of the top shipwreck researchers. She was better than his guy. She’d spent her childhood following her father’s work and learning all he had to teach. She always knew maritime history would be her lifework. Her father had told her the sea was in her blood, and she knew in her heart it was true.
“Even the most brilliant researchers are