would have memories to cherish forever, just like this one.
* * *
"Dude, the reef was incredible. You feel any better?"
At Tristan's sudden entrance into their cabin, Jeremiah shoved the blueprints of the ship under his pillow, but he wasn't fast enough.
His colleague dropped a disbelieving gaze at the printouts. His diving mask had left a pale oval around his eyes and nose.
"What are you doing? I thought you were sick. Don't tell me you're studying for a class!"
Jeremiah chuckled. "You make studying sound like the vilest pastime imaginable." He showed him what he'd been trying to hide. "These are blueprints, not class notes. I'm doing research."
Silence . "On what?" Tristan drawled out the question.
"I've been getting some hits," Jeremiah confessed.
His teammate groaned. "Seriously? Here, on this ship?"
"Yes. The day we boarded, I saw something."
"What did you see?" Tristan asked on a note of trepidation.
"Men with AK-47s gunning people down. I haven't seen anything lately, though."
Tristan brightened. "That's good, right?" He went to put away his underwater camera. "You've said yourself your visions aren't fixed in stone. Maybe the threat's gone."
Jeremiah considered the possibility and dismissed it. "No, I can still feel it." He glanced down at the blueprints. "And if the shit hits the fan, I want to know the safest place to direct people."
Tristan turned back to face him. "Don't say that, brother," he pleaded. "There's no way any semi-automatic rifles could have been brought on board. Everything went through metal detectors."
"Right, even the crew's possessions." He had found that out from his talk with the security officer. "But I still think there's a way to sneak them in."
"How?"
"I don't know yet. I'm working on it."
"So this is what you did all day? You said you were feeling queasy ."
Jeremiah looked up at him and stared, feeling a little guilty for lying to his teammate.
"And I can't remember the last time you got seasick," Tristan added, on a note of self-disgust. "Listen, forget that stuff. We're safe, brother. Plus we have a date with two hot women tonight which we'll be late for if we don't hurry."
Jeremiah's heart sank. "Women?" They'd better not be meeting strangers.
"Juliet and Emma. Who else?"
"Oh." His apprehension eased. "Well, why didn't you say so?" Leaping off his bed, he sprinted to the bathroom, beating Tristan to it.
"You prick!" his friend shouted.
* * *
Half an hour later, Jeremiah and Tristan entered a disco-themed bar chock-full of baby boomers. A mirrored ball strobed the parquet dance floor and threw colorful glitters of light on the live band playing the theme song from Grease . The lead singer sported a foot-tall Afro, but the rest of the band was Caucasian.
Tristan started across the room. "There they are."
Exultation hit Jeremiah's bloodstream as he spotted Emma. She'd come . What's more, her welcoming smile seemed to imply a change of heart.
"Ladies." Tristan pecked both women on the cheek, causing Juliet to stiffen and Emma to brighten in surprise.
Jeremiah wished he had Tristan's confidence. Occupying the only seat left, he stared at Emma's dress—a skimpy coral number that matched the color riding her cheekbones. In the glittering light, her skin resembled the mother-of-pearl lining in a clamshell. A vision hit him without warning—he was undressing her, exposing her creamy breasts to his hungry gaze.
Well, hot damn, what a way to get his visions back!
"How was the scuba diving?" Emma asked them.
"Good," Tristan said, guarding the fact that Jeremiah had stayed behind. "It's not the Great Barrier Reef, but the coral was still impressive."
"You've been to Australia?" Juliet guessed.
"Good on you, mate." Tristan leaned toward Jeremiah with a grin and added, "Nothing gets past her. I love it."
The frenetic notes coming from an electronic synthesizer arrested Jeremiah's attention. He glanced toward the band, eyes riveted to the keyboard player, a lanky
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