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something you believe in, something you’re good at.”
    “Was this before or after you met Patrick?”
    “Before.”
    “And through Patrick, you saw an opportunity to get back at him. Find La Malinche , flaunt it under his nose, and you’ve won.”
    “Something like that,” he mumbled as he looked out at the water.
    “Silly reason to get yourself mixed into something that could potentially be dangerous.” Colin had died for much less than that.
    “Revenge is never silly. Isn’t that why you’re really here?”
    Maren stopped and looked at him. Revenge was only the start. “I’m here for freedom.”
    He stared at her a long moment, and she knew he was wondering what she meant by that. Glancing to her right, she realized they were already back at camp, and that they were no longer alone. Two figures stood on the porch of a nearby hut. One she recognized by the way he leaned against the railing, sipping the coffee in his hand. The other she recognized by the increased beat of her heart.
    “Thanks for breakfast, Nate.”
    “Maren—”
    Steeling her nerves, she crossed the sand, then drew to a stop at the bottom step of Thad’s hut. But when she looked up, her stomach betrayed her and did an involuntary flip. God, he looked good in those worn jeans, faded blue T-shirt, flip-flops, and that stupid Red Socks hat he’d worn years ago.
    Not being distracted by him these next few weeks was going to be harder than she thought if he looked this good every damn day.
    Clearing her throat, she looked past Thad toward her father. “I’ll stay. For now.” Patrick pushed away from the railing, and his face brightened, but before he could get too excited, she added, “That doesn’t mean anything has changed, though.”
    She didn’t wait for either of them to respond. She turned and headed for her cabin across camp. And with her heart racing, told herself she was doing the right thing. Someday—maybe—they would understand.
    Someday maybe she could convince herself of that fact too.

C HAPTER F IVE
    T had glanced toward Patrick as Maren disappeared around the corner of the building. The old fart’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
    Patrick chuckled and lifted his coffee. “Guess she told us. Wonder what changed her mind.”
    Thad wondered too. He wasn’t sure if it was his conversation with her last night or her early morning impromptu breakfast with Drummer, but either way, he didn’t care. She was staying. He hadn’t come down here because of her, but his mood lifted dramatically just knowing she was sticking around.
    Drummer approached the cabin. Hands on hips, he rested one foot on the bottom step and squinted through the sunlight. “Busy morning. I need a shower. We heading out to the boat today?”
    Patrick glanced Thad’s way and lifted his brows. Drummer caught the movement, and his gaze followed.
    “Yeah,” Thad said, tossing the last few drops of his coffee over the railing into the sand. He and Patrick had already agreed Thad would take the lead on the Conquistador ’s recovery. Patrick would monitor and supervise all activity from the camp. “We need to check and catalog the gear. There’s a dive shop in town. If we need something, we should be able to find it. I’ve also got equipment coming on order. Probably be here today or tomorrow.”
    “Sounds good,” Drummer said. “Gimme fifteen to get cleaned up.”
    “I’ll be out at the rig, loading up,” Thad told him.
    Drummer moved up the steps. As he pulled open the screen, Thad said, “Hey, Nate.”
    Drummer paused. “Yeah?”
    “Whatever you said to her this morning, thanks.”
    “Don’t thank me. She’d already decided to stay before I ran into her. But I don’t think she did it for you, numbnuts.” He looked Patrick’s way. “Or you, old man. I have a feeling that woman doesn’t do anything unless it’s exactly what she wants to do.”
    One side of Thad’s lips curled. Yeah, he remembered that about Maren. Nice to know some