She might have known he was a diver. Not quite as tall as his friend, he shared Rogan’s broad-shouldered physique, and had the look of someone who spent a lot of time near the sea. She’d have guessed a surfer if it hadn’t been for his connection with the Brodericks.
“Are you related to Rogan and Granger?” She supposed he could be a cousin or something.
He shook his head. “Nope, but Rogue and I have been hanging out together off and on since primary school. He’ll look after Camille, don’t worry about that.”
Her gaze flew back to him. How had he known she was concerned for her friend, who had fallen in love with a man Sienna couldn’t help thinking was all wrong for her? A man Camille herself had admitted was the very antithesis of what she’d thought was her ideal.
He said, “There’s no news about the stolen shipwreck items?”
She supposed if they were such old friends it was natural for him to be in Rogan’s confidence. She’d been asked to keep very quiet about the antique coins, jewelry and watches she’d been entrusted with. She’d explained when Camille enlisted her expertise that she’d have to take the head of the archaeology department partially into her confidence so she could use the university facilities, but she’d told no one else. “The police don’t seem to have any ideas.”
She felt unreasonably guilty about the theft, although Camille and Rogan had been very understanding. It wasn’t her fault that the laboratory where she’d been painstakingly removing a century and a half of verdigris and various accretions from the artifacts recovered from a wreck site somewhere out in the Pacific had been burgled while she was in hospital. Fortunately not before she’d taken full sets of photographs.
Other things had been stolen. Sienna’s students had been excavating a recently discovered pa site. The palisaded Maori village from which tattooed warriors had once defended their families against attack had long gone, leaving only a grassy terraced hillside. The dig had yielded priceless jade and bone ornaments and weapons to be studied before finding suitable homes with tribal descendants of the original owners or in museums. But these precious artifacts had now disappeared.
“Nothing’s been recovered,” she told Brodie.
“Well, I guess there’s more treasure under the sea, where Rogue found that lot,” Brodie said. “And Pacific Treasure Salvors will be back there as soon as the divers and equipment are ready, hopefully before anyone else gets to it.”
Although the Brodericks had done their best to keep quiet about their discovery and refused to talk to the media, it was an open secret that the Sea-Rogue had found a treasure ship, and rumor was rife about the new company’s plans. Even the name they’d given it was a dead giveaway. She supposed they’d seen no point in trying to disguise its purpose, since the secret was out anyway.
Sienna bit at her thumbnail, a frown creasing her forehead. Despite Camille’s assurance that the salvage would be carried out with due regard to the wreck’s historical importance, she wasn’t at all sure her friend hadn’t been dazzled by her dashing new husband into a false sense of security. Apparently the Broderick brothers’ father had been obsessed with finding a treasure ship, and Rogan looked to be following in the old man’s footsteps.
“What’s the matter?” Brodie asked curiously.
She dropped her hand. “I’m not sure about this company—disturbing a historic wreck.”
Brodie folded his arms, his eyes assessing her. “You want the ship to remain on the bottom of the ocean, untouched, until it rots away?”
“I’d just like to know that nothing of archaeological significance is lost because of ignorance or greed.”
Brodie’s eyebrows lifted. He said in a deceptively mild tone, “Don’t you trust Camille to make sure that doesn’t happen? She’s the official researcher and a qualified historian.”
“She’s in love!” Sienna shot back at him. “It tends to skew people’s thinking.” As Brodie cast her an inquiring look, she said hastily, “I’m sure she’ll do her best, but archaeology isn’t her specialty, and…”
“And you’re afraid that Rogan will influence her.” Brodie appeared slightly amused. “Don’t you realize the guy is crazy about her? He’d do anything for Camille. She only has to lift her little finger.”
“That may not last.” A shadow touched her heart, but she tried to keep it from reaching her face.
His expression was quizzical. “Cynic,” he accused. “A bit young for that, aren’t you? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-seven.” She was well aware that he was fishing. He’d be about Rogan’s age, presumably—thirtyish. “Age has nothing to do with it. I’m being realistic.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
Something inside her quivered. “Of course. Haven’t you?”
Brodie looked past her, and his eyes glazed. He said slowly, “Not…like that.”
Involuntarily she turned to see what had taken his attention. Camille and Rogan were framed in the open doorway, holding each other’s hands and for the moment alone. And it wasn’t the sun that lent that almost blinding glow to Camille’s face, or kindled the fierce light in her new husband’s eyes.
The picture held Sienna spellbound for a second, and an unaccountable lump rose in her throat. Rogan said something to his bride, and she gave him a smile that positively dazzled. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. It looked like an act of homage, and Sienna recalled the words from the traditional marriage service he’d spoken in the chapel earlier, “With my body I thee worship….”
She experienced a return of the poignant sense of desolation that had unexpectedly pierced her when a radiant Camille and blazingly proud Rogan had turned from the altar to begin their married life.
Brodie said softly, “You don’t think that will last?”
Wrenching her gaze away, Sienna lifted a shoulder. “Who knows? All I’m saying is I wouldn’t count on it.” For Camille’s sake she fervently hoped it would, but experience made her cautious of such predictions.
Brodie’s blue gaze was suddenly penetrating. “Want to bet on it?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t gamble.”
“That figures.”
It sounded like a derogatory comment, but she didn’t reply, instead shifting her attention again to the moored boats. “Is one of those the Sea-Rogue?” Camille and Rogan planned a short honeymoon on the boat they owned, before its refitting was completed and they put it to work as a dive tender for Pacific Treasure Salvors.
“She’s farther round the bay,” Brodie told her. “At the old fishing wharves.”
Sienna nodded. She looked away from the boats and started to get up. This time Brodie didn’t stop her.
“Well, nice talking to you,” she said distantly as he too rose to his feet.
He cocked his head, his questioning eyes openly doubting her sincerity, but he didn’t follow when she made her way to the now empty doorway.
Sienna found Camille who said, “I might go up and change soon. Are you all right? You look a bit flushed.”
“I’m fine,” Sienna insisted. “I’ve been sitting out in the sun.” Although Brodie had made sure she was under the shade of the umbrella.
“Oh, yes. Granger was hunting for you but he said Brodie seemed to be looking after you.”
“I don’t need looking after!”
Camille smiled at her vehemence. “You do look a bit fragile, and I suppose