Creed followed Emma up the steps to the helm, entering behind her, making the small space feel even smaller, filled with his large, overpowering presence. Having trouble concentrating on coordinates, Emma forced herself to compare the two sets of numbers.
For once her luck held. Creed’s coordinates were within the same vicinity. Considering it was the most likely place on the reef for ships to go down, Emma wasn’t terribly surprised. “Good, we’re going the same way.”
“Are you looking for another boat that got lost in the fog?” he asked.
“You bet,” she answered.
Dave grinned over his shoulder. “Emma’s ship got lost in the Devil’s Shroud over two hundred years ago.”
Creed’s brow rose. “Going for the historical value or treasure hunting?”
Her lips twitched, and she gave him his own answer. “Both.”
“Interesting.” He studied her for a long moment, his gaze lingering on her mouth. Then, clutching his GPS tracking device, Creed exited the cabin, made his way to the lower level and out onto the bow where he stared out over the bay. He leaned against the railing, his jaw tight, gaze glued to the rocky outcropping ahead.
From her perch above, Emma studied the man. He had the build of an athlete. Maybe he did know a little about diving, enough that she didn’t have to babysit him while she explored a particularly treacherous area.
She climbed down the ladder and continued gearing up for the dive. Leaving the suit’s torso hanging around her waist, she slipped her feet into the diving boots and zipped them. The cold Pacific Ocean didn’t allow divers to go without the wet suit. Too long in the chill waters led to hypothermia and death. A dry suit was even better, but today was sunny and warm enough that Emma would risk the cold with the thickest wet suit she owned.
Booties on, wet suit halfway there, Emma joined her dive buddy at the rail. “Maybe we should get a few things straight before we go under.”
He turned, his gaze passing over her, eyes narrowing slightly, assessing her. “Like?”
“I haven’t seen you around Cape Churn. Since I’m familiar with the area and its dangers, I’m in charge.”
Creed nodded. “Fair enough.”
“In fact, if you aren’t a master diver, tell me now. Where we are going isn’t for amateurs.”
His brows rose. “As I said before, I can hold my own.”
“That doesn’t tell me much.”
“I’ve logged over a hundred hours diving.”
She studied him, looking for a crack in his shield, the lie behind the handsome face, and found nothing. “Okay, then. Dave is going to drop us as close as he can, and we’ll swim in closer beneath the surface to avoid the waves. Once we’re in the water, Dave will move farther out to keep his boat from banging up against any submerged rocks. There’s a significant riptide and undercurrent that might cause us some issue.”
“If it’s so dangerous, why are you going out there?”
“I’m a wreck diver, and I’ve been doing it for years. The Devil’s Shroud and the cape have claimed its share of ships over the years. If you want to get to them, you have to get into the shallows around the submerged rocks off the cape’s point.” She stared hard at him. “Still interested?”
He nodded. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“Fun.” Emma snorted. “You have no idea.” She nodded toward his duffel. “You might want to suit up. We’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”
He popped a sharp salute and spun in a tight military about-face toward his gear.
As she dragged the rest of her seven-mil wet suit on, Emma watched Creed closely for any sign of hesitation, ready to pounce if he showed any lack of knowledge of his own equipment.
Regrettably, or maybe fortunately, he slipped into the wet suit as if it was a second skin. A quick check and testing of his regulator, dive computer, tank and mask indicated a proficient knowledge of his equipment.
Darn it. Emma had hoped to rule him out of this trip, claiming inadequate experience with the necessary diving apparatus.
By the time he had booties, fins and BCD strapped on, Emma had to concede the man knew his gear and wore it like he meant it. Much as she wanted, she couldn’t fault him there.
Would he be an idiot in the water? Taking off instead of staying within eyesight of his dive partner? She’d be damned if she’d chase him all over the ocean floor.
This trip was important to her. She really felt as though it could be the one. And so much rode on her finding the Anna Maria. She didn’t need a cocky diver with an attitude swimming off into trouble. “So what’s your story?”
A grin slipped across Creed’s face. “Are you always this direct?”
“I’m a nurse in my day job.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It pays to be direct.”
He nodded. “A nurse, huh?”
“Yeah, so don’t get stung by a jellyfish or stab yourself with a knife.” She pulled her hair back off her face and secured it with an elastic band at the back of her neck. “I’m off duty, and it will only slow me down.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” He chuckled. “Do you reserve your good bedside manner for the day job?”
“Absolutely.” Emma smiled, loosening up a little. The man had a sense of humor and could give as good as he got. She didn’t want to like him, but when he smiled like he did at that moment, she couldn’t help herself. “If you’re such an experienced diver, why are you out wreck-diving without a partner?”
He shrugged and stared out across the bay. “I could ask you the same.”
“I do it all the time. I live here.” She tipped her head toward him. “Where are you from?”
“Around.”
Evasive as well as handsome, with his thick dark hair and penetrating dark eyes. They still had a few minutes to kill and Emma was good for a few more pulled teeth, so she asked, “Why the interest in the lost boat?”
“Besides the owner being missing and possibly dead? I want to protect the company interest and make sure the boat is in fact at the bottom of the ocean. It could be the owner found the tracking device and chucked it, taking off with the boat.” He crossed his arms. “Why so interested?”
“The more I know about you, the better prepared I am for anything that happens below. So if there’s anything I need to know, spill now.”
His brows rose. “I just need to find the boat.”
Emma opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Dave.
“Get ready,” the captain said. “I’m as close as I can get to your coordinates without becoming a statistic.”
Emma glanced around at the rocks protruding out of the ocean. Sea lions basked in the sun on the smooth ledges. Some slipped off into the water, disturbed by the nearness of the boat.
Dragging her neoprene hood over her head, she tucked her hair beneath, then strapped her fins to her feet and shoved her hands into her gloves. Since she was the one in charge, she snapped the line for the surface marker buoy to her BCD and slipped her arms into the straps, hiking the BCD and cylinder up onto her back. Last but not least she pulled her mask onto her head and positioned it over her eyes, popped the regulator into her mouth and turned to see if her diving partner was anywhere near ready.