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Authors: Nikki Logan
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he was desperate to see the
Emden
up close. He had been since their second visit late yesterday. His plan this trip had just been to find the marker and do some bearing work but now he’d seen the memorial and, knowing how close he was and how much time he had up his sleeve, he struggled to keep the sunken enigma out of his mind. She was like an elusive beauty frozen in time that he was desperate to meet.
He imagined what she must look like now, a hundred years on, covered in sea life. Eternal. How many things in this life were for ever? But wrecks … they just lay there, hidden, waiting for their shot at immortality. And
he
wanted to give that to them. Find them and make them eternal. He’d seen pictures, of course, but photos and video was never close to the real deal. The wreck had called him for a good portion of yesterday and she started up again as soon as he woke. He knew he had hours before Honor would wake from her night shift. What better way to spend it than with the
other
woman in his life?
He smiled. He hadn’t thought of Honor in … minutes. It was a sad day when a rusty oldcruiser could push a gorgeous woman from the forefront of his thoughts—albeit a complicated, brittle woman.
Things hadn’t gone to plan that first night. He’d made an idiot of himself by stripping off in front of her, trying to put her at ease. She hadn’t been eased, she hadn’t laughed and she certainly hadn’t grown any less outraged. But she had called him Rob and that tiny slip gave him a sliver of hope. That she didn’t entirely hate his guts.
None of his trademark moves were having the slightest impact on her. If anything, they were making her more tense. And he was getting entirely rattled. What did he have if not his repertoire of moves? Certainly no scintillating personality to fall back on. He’d grown up entirely clear on where his worth lay. His business acumen and his face. Not necessarily in that order.
The rest were optional extras in the Dalton household. Not valued and not required.
His only consolation was that, after last night, he and Honor were equal on the humiliation front. He knew she would be mortified to have broken down in front of him.
He wandered the island for three hours, exploring, examining, discovering. Honor was tucked up in her little tent sleeping off her night shift, so he didn’t have to worry aboutaccidentally running into her. He took his seventh pass by the
Emden
memorial and looked out to the reef for evidence that the wind had shifted offshore. The seas would be too rough to dive in until they did.
He raised his binoculars and looked out beyond the visible reef. The whitecaps that had been steadily coming straight towards him had shifted east-west.
Perfect.
He’d waited half the morning for this. He turned and hurried back to camp, eager to get out in the water, back where he felt confident and in control. He’d already towed his diving gear back out to
The Player
in anticipation. But there was a catch.
Only an idiot would dive an unfamiliar wreck alone in a boat with a hairline fracture in its hull. He needed Honor’s help.
And asking would kill him.
He found her, just woken, at the campsite and he grabbed the bull by the horns. ‘I need a favour.’ Her single raised eyebrow told him he’d grabbed too hard. He swallowed some pride. ‘I need to ask your help.’
It wasn’t much better but at least she deigned to tilt her head in enquiry.
‘Would you come out with me on
The
Player
and be my second while I dive the
Emden?’
He prepared himself for what hurdle she would undoubtedly put in his way. Then she surprised him.
‘No.’
No excuse. No explanation. Just no.
‘Why?’
‘I’m working.’
Rob really couldn’t think of birdwatching as work but knew it would be suicide to say so. ‘Can’t you take a break?’ He needed this dive. ‘I’d be … grateful.’
She looked at him flatly. No, not entirely flat, he saw as he really looked. Carefully
Emden
up close. He had been since their second visit late yesterday. His plan this trip had just been to find the marker and do some bearing work but now he’d seen the memorial and, knowing how close he was and how much time he had up his sleeve, he struggled to keep the sunken enigma out of his mind. She was like an elusive beauty frozen in time that he was desperate to meet.
He imagined what she must look like now, a hundred years on, covered in sea life. Eternal. How many things in this life were for ever? But wrecks … they just lay there, hidden, waiting for their shot at immortality. And
he
wanted to give that to them. Find them and make them eternal. He’d seen pictures, of course, but photos and video was never close to the real deal. The wreck had called him for a good portion of yesterday and she started up again as soon as he woke. He knew he had hours before Honor would wake from her night shift. What better way to spend it than with the
other
woman in his life?
He smiled. He hadn’t thought of Honor in … minutes. It was a sad day when a rusty oldcruiser could push a gorgeous woman from the forefront of his thoughts—albeit a complicated, brittle woman.
Things hadn’t gone to plan that first night. He’d made an idiot of himself by stripping off in front of her, trying to put her at ease. She hadn’t been eased, she hadn’t laughed and she certainly hadn’t grown any less outraged. But she had called him Rob and that tiny slip gave him a sliver of hope. That she didn’t entirely hate his guts.
None of his trademark moves were having the slightest impact on her. If anything, they were making her more tense. And he was getting entirely rattled. What did he have if not his repertoire of moves? Certainly no scintillating personality to fall back on. He’d grown up entirely clear on where his worth lay. His business acumen and his face. Not necessarily in that order.
The rest were optional extras in the Dalton household. Not valued and not required.
His only consolation was that, after last night, he and Honor were equal on the humiliation front. He knew she would be mortified to have broken down in front of him.
He wandered the island for three hours, exploring, examining, discovering. Honor was tucked up in her little tent sleeping off her night shift, so he didn’t have to worry aboutaccidentally running into her. He took his seventh pass by the
Emden
memorial and looked out to the reef for evidence that the wind had shifted offshore. The seas would be too rough to dive in until they did.
He raised his binoculars and looked out beyond the visible reef. The whitecaps that had been steadily coming straight towards him had shifted east-west.
Perfect.
He’d waited half the morning for this. He turned and hurried back to camp, eager to get out in the water, back where he felt confident and in control. He’d already towed his diving gear back out to
The Player
in anticipation. But there was a catch.
Only an idiot would dive an unfamiliar wreck alone in a boat with a hairline fracture in its hull. He needed Honor’s help.
And asking would kill him.
He found her, just woken, at the campsite and he grabbed the bull by the horns. ‘I need a favour.’ Her single raised eyebrow told him he’d grabbed too hard. He swallowed some pride. ‘I need to ask your help.’
It wasn’t much better but at least she deigned to tilt her head in enquiry.
‘Would you come out with me on
The
Player
and be my second while I dive the
Emden?’
He prepared himself for what hurdle she would undoubtedly put in his way. Then she surprised him.
‘No.’
No excuse. No explanation. Just no.
‘Why?’
‘I’m working.’
Rob really couldn’t think of birdwatching as work but knew it would be suicide to say so. ‘Can’t you take a break?’ He needed this dive. ‘I’d be … grateful.’
She looked at him flatly. No, not entirely flat, he saw as he really looked. Carefully
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