The Darkest Touch dh-3 Page 8

  Boulder similar to other finds was all she wrote. He nodded and motioned to one of the crew members, who took pictures of all sides of the boulder and marked the location with a balloon buoy. They moved on.

  They spent the entire day on the dive. They surfaced, ate lunch, changed air tanks and went down again. It was tedious, painstaking work, but Isabelle was relentless, covering every inch of the sea floor and missing nothing. She noted every object that could be related to the temples and never seemed to tire in her quest. By the time the sun started to set and they had to stop, Dalton was exhausted and waterlogged, and Isabelle was clearly frustrated. They climbed aboard and rid themselves of their diving gear.

  “How about a shower and change of clothes? I’ll get the cook started on dinner and we can relax,” Dalton suggested.

  “Fine,” she said, not even looking at him. Her lips compressed in a tight line as she marched off to her room.

  Dalton followed, smiling as he made his way to his room, stripped off his wet suit, and climbed into the shower to wash away the salt water. The day was a waste. He’d gotten nowhere, other than furthering Isabelle’s treasure-hunting goal. She’d exhibited no signs of demonic behavior, though by the time they’d surfaced at the end of the day, she seemed about ready to throw a major tantrum.

  That was frustration, and understandable. The woman worked hard. And he was impressed. He didn’t really know what he expected from Isabelle, but it wasn’t what she’d shown him today.

  Maybe he’d expected her to be lazy, to let others do the work while she stood on the sidelines. The intel he’d gathered on her indicated she was into hunting treasure and getting rich quick, concentrating on digs that generated fast results and a big prize, then hurrying on to the next one.

  That didn’t seem like her at all, at least not that he’d seen today. She’d exhibited the traits of a born leader-tenacious, determined, and driven, and seemingly willing to stick it out until she got what she wanted.

  Apparently he had a lot to learn about her, including uncovering her secrets. Because the deets on her and the reality weren’t jiving. And he didn’t like being confused.

  He dried off after his shower, dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and headed back outside to wait for Isabelle.

  It was time to press her, to get to know her more. . intimately. There was a lot more to Isabelle than what she showed.

  He wanted to see what was written on the pages of that book she had hidden, what had upset her so much that she’d sent it flying across the room.

  What made her so angry at her mother?

  And why was she lying about who she was, about her sister, Angelique?

  Dalton had a lot of work ahead. And very little time. So when Isabelle strolled down the gangway, he pasted on a smile. She, however, wasn’t smiling.

  “Still upset?” he asked, holding a chair out for her.

  She slid into it and he motioned to Dimitri, who hurried over with drinks.

  “Thanks,” she said, lifting the glass and taking a long swallow of the cocktail. She set it down and relaxed her shoulders. “I needed that.”

  He rimmed the edge of the glass with his fingertip. “The day didn’t go as you expected?”

  “No. Unrealistic expectations, I guess. I apologize for my sour mood.”

  “You thought you’d find the temples on the first day.”

  She stared down at the glass. “Yes, I suppose I did. Or I wanted to. I don’t know.” She lifted the glass and drained the liquid. Dimitri came over and replaced the empty glass with another full cocktail. Dalton nodded at him.

  “It’s understandable to want success right away, Isabelle.”

  She stared out to sea, seemingly lost in thought. “I was certain it was right there, that I was going to find it today. Stupid, childish dream. I should have known better.”

  “We’ll hunt again tomorrow.”

  When she turned back to him, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, we will.” Then she took another long swallow of her cocktail. “I will find it. I have to.”

  Something drove her. It was almost as if she was desperate to make this find.

  Maybe funds were tight for her and she needed the resources. He could help her out there.

  “Don’t push yourself so hard. I have plenty of time to kill this summer, so there’s no hurry to get this done.”

  “I appreciate that more than I can say, but it’s not just the money.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s personal.” She finished her drink, and once again Dimitri was right there with another, though unobtrusive and barely obvious except to Dalton.

  “Personal in what way?”

  She grasped the new drink and took a sip. “I have to be successful.”

  “Why is it so important to you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  Dalton didn’t continue, sensing if he pushed too hard right now he’d lose her. Instead, he let her watch the sun-set, sip her cocktail, and mull over her own thoughts. He did the same, plotting his next move. She finished that drink and Dimitri brought another, this time sliding it onto the table with their dinner.

  Isabelle picked at the food, but downed her drink. Dalton made sure her glass stayed full.

  Yeah, he was trying to get her drunk, mainly so she’d loosen up and possibly reveal something. And she did seem to be relaxing. By the time the sun was down and the moon came up, Isabelle seemed to have lost that rigid edge she’d carried since they surfaced this afternoon. She was even smiling. They finished their meal and he dismissed the staff to their quarters, turned on music, and directed her to the lounge chairs. There was a light breeze, the night was balmy, and no other boats were nearby. Perfect.

  “Are you tired?” he asked.

  Isabelle slid into one of the chairs, stretching out her legs. “Not at all. This is perfect, Dalton.”

  He took the chair next to her. “It’s natural to be disappointed when something doesn’t go your way. Happens to me all the time. I can be a real sonofabitch when I don’t win.”

  She nodded. “I do like to win. And I’m a bitch when I don’t.”

  “You don’t like anything getting in your way.”

  “No, I don’t. I see something I want and I go for it. More than once that’s gotten me into trouble.”

  “I know how that is. It’s hard not to want.”

  “Damn hard.” She sat up, swung her legs over the side of the chaise to face him. “I want so much, Dalton. So many things it’s almost painful.” She fisted her stomach. “Right here. Sometimes I think that isn’t normal.”

  More normal than she thought. “It just means you’re ambitious.”

  She sniffed. “I’ve been accused of being greedy, of wanting things I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t have.”

  Damn. It was like having a conversation with himself. “What happens when you don’t get what you want?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “I find a way to have it anyway.”

  “No matter what?”

  “No matter what. Life’s too short to let the things I want pass me by.”

  His lips lifted. Despite the intel about her, he liked this woman. Maybe because she reminded him of himself. Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. There were things he’d been determined to have, too. And they had cost him dearly.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I should learn patience. My sis. . my friends and associates say I should.”

  She’d almost slipped and said “sister,” which meant the alcohol was talking. Good. “Patience doesn’t get you what you want.”

  “People walk over the patient. Ambition wins the prize.”

  “And if people get hurt in the process?”

  She shrugged, leaned back in the chaise again. “So be it. Sometimes you have to walk over a few bodies on your way to the top.”

  Ouch. Did she really mean that, or was that false bravado? Her voice had changed, gone cold as she s
tared straight ahead and out to sea. Dalton felt the chill as if a winter wind had blanketed the yacht. An unnatural, icy coldness that evaporated when she seemed to snap out of her daze and turned to him.

  “We’ll find the treasure,” she said, her smile once again warm and welcoming. “I’m sure of it.”

  Interesting. Like a complete personality change that also affected the ambient temperature. There was much more to Isabelle than Dalton thought.

  Though he wasn’t surprised to discover that tinge of darkness within her. He should be wary of her, but it only intrigued him more.

  After all, he rarely met people like himself. But he’d wager she wasn’t even aware of what had happened.

  She laid her drink on the table next to her and lifted her arms over her head.

  Damn. She wore tiny little khaki shorts and a halter top. Said top pulled against her breasts as she arched her back, her nipples outlined against the light-colored material. Dalton stilled, not wanting her to move from that position.

  The curve of her body was perfect. If she was naked, an artist would paint her in that pose. He wanted to move to her chair, trace the line of her hips and waist, down her legs and back up where the side of her full breast peeked out from the halter. He’d bet all the money he had that her skin felt like buttery silk.

  She chose that moment to turn her head and gaze at him, offering up a knowing look.

  Dalton’s entire body tightened, heating in a rush of lust and overpowering sensation. His cock roared to life and he could do nothing to stop the raging pulse of his libido.

  Isabelle’s lips parted expectantly, the invitation obvious. All he had to do was take what she offered.

  His breathing shortened, his circuits going haywire as his body centered on one thing. Woman. Flesh. He wanted to kiss her, to see if she tasted as good as she looked. But he didn’t want to stop there. His thoughts went deeper. Being inside her, moving against her, feeling her yield underneath him. How long had it been? He didn’t even remember the last time. All he knew was he wanted this. Right now. With Isabelle.

  But he held firm, the revelations from tonight stopping him. They were too much alike; there was more at stake than just a joining of the flesh. He wasn’t even certain what would happen if the two of them. .

  No. He wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t sure he could even handle it. His mind warred with his body, the struggle intense as he fought against what he wanted more than anything, but knew he shouldn’t have.

  Finally, he swallowed and turned his gaze to the sea.

  He heard her soft sigh, knew he’d insulted her, but couldn’t figure out what the hell to say or do to fix it.

  “I think I’ll turn in for the night,” she said after a few moments of anguished silence. “It was a long day and I want to get a head start in the morning.”

  He heard her, but didn’t trust himself to look at her again. Whether it was embarrassment at his hesitation or his lack of trust in the raging beast inside him, he didn’t know.

  “Sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He heard her walk down the hall, then the door close to her room. Only then did he exhale, lean forward, and drag his hands through his hair.

  Fuck. He hadn’t been prepared for this. Everything else, yes. This, no.

  He stood, trying to shake off the effects that lightning bolt of sensation had caused.

  He’d had Isabelle all set up, primed, relaxed and ready. With a little coaxing, he could have gotten what he wanted.

  And maybe an unexpected bonus.

  But that wasn’t what he was here to do.

  He walked to the side of the yacht, his fingers curling tight to the rail as he tilted his head back, searching the heavens for answers to his dilemma.

  Could he really do this assignment? Even if it meant taking that next step with Isabelle, knowing what he was, what he was capable of?

  It was his job. He had to do his job, no matter what it entailed.

  Even if his job included succumbing to the most sinful, sultry temptation.

  He’d walked down that road before, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like the result could be any worse than the last time he’d chosen hell over heaven.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After last night’s oh-so-clear rejection, Angelique had done her best to steer clear of Ryder. She had gone straight to bed, and spent the entire next day going about her business and ignoring him. Not that she really had any business to do. She was stuck in this house with a man who had no desire to be there with her.

  Though that wasn’t true. At least the desire part. Evidence of said desire had been quite clear last night, yet he’d still pushed her away-which both insulted and intrigued her.

  Fine. That wasn’t the purpose of their being together anyway. It would mean complications neither of them wanted or needed, so he’d been right to put a stop to it. He’d been the levelheaded one; she’d been all gooey and emotional and passionate. She’d have pressed on, and that would have been a mistake.

  Thankfully, one of them had common sense. Her mother had always told her that her passion and curiosity would land her in trouble, that she was too open, too willing to give her heart. That she should be more wary. But that just wasn’t Angelique’s nature.

  She should probably start remembering her mother’s advice and save herself some heartache.

  Something about Ryder sparked her, though. She’d been attracted to men before and never done anything about it. So what was it about him that made her so stupid?

  She rolled her eyes and looked out the kitchen window. Ryder was outside talking on his cell phone. Frowning. News, maybe? Should she even bother to care?

  She’d had breakfast, lain by the pool the better part of the day until her skin had turned prunish, then taken a shower and fixed dinner. Just a salad with some leftover chicken that Ryder had barbecued the night before. She supposed she could wander out there and let him know it was ready.

  She stepped out the door and toward him. His frown deepened when he saw her approach.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lou,” he said. “We should stay put here. Isolating them from each other keeps the demons from centralizing everyone. I think that’s what they want, everyone in a single location.”

  What was he talking about? Or who?

  She waited while he listened.

  “I am trying to find out,” he continued. “Do you think I’d still be here if I already knew?”

  She arched a brow. She knew what he was talking about. The black diamond. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, impatiently waiting for him to get off the phone.

  “I don’t know. Nothing’s happened here yet, so we’re safe for the moment. But that could change. I’ll let you know.”

  He hung up and turned to her.

  “What?” she asked, observing the tension in his muscles.

  He seemed reluctant to say anything. Something big was happening.

  “Ryder, tell me.”

  “Dalton found your sister.”

  Dread mixed with excitement, her stomach flipping over. “Where? Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine. She’s in Malta on an archaeological dive.”

  Angelique exhaled, then sat on the chaise lounge. “Thank God. When do we leave?”

  “We don’t.”

  She stared up at him, his face shadowed by the falling sun behind him. “What?”

  “We’re not leaving, Angie. We’re staying put.”

  Oh, no. They weren’t going to do this to her. “I need to see my sister.”

  “That’s the worst possible thing we could do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because putting you and Isabelle in the same place is exactly what the Sons of Darkness want.”

  “It is not. They don’t care at all about me. They want Isabelle.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that. If they wanted me, they had a shot at me in Australia. They know I’m worthless to t
hem.”

  He sat in the chaise next to hers. “Angie, there’s a lot we don’t know about them, about their motives and plans. It’s best to keep you and your sister separated for now.”