The Devil and the Deep - By Amy Andrews Page 0,66

even, as if his words had come as a revelation to him too.

How could she not reciprocate?

Her father was gone and, even if he hadn’t been, she was an adult, no longer needy of his approval.

‘Yes,’ she murmured, their gazes locking. ‘Lady Mary is me. Beneath all those layers of clothing she has my heart and soul. And my desires.’

The admission was amazingly cathartic. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly as dry as the ties binding her to the bed.

‘When Vasco stormed into my head, I knew he was you. Deep down anyway—it took me a little while to recognise it consciously. And when I knew that, I knew whoever his woman was going to be, she would be me.’

Rick smiled triumphantly as Vasco had done at Mary’s capitulation.

Stella rolled her eyes. ‘I fantasised constantly about you when I was a teenager. And when I was writing the book...’ She stopped and blushed at the memory. ‘Let’s just say that Mr Buzzy got quite the working out.’

Rick blinked, relief flooding through his veins. ‘So, I wasn’t alone?’ he murmured.

She shook her head. ‘You weren’t alone.’

Rick laid both hands over his heart and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’ Then he leaned forward and brushed his mouth lightly over hers, murmuring, ‘Thank you, thank you,’ as he dropped a string of tiny kisses before sitting back on his haunches again.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, a smile on her face. ‘You going to untie me now?’

Rick shook his head as he ripped at the Velcro fastener on his boardies, a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘I’m just getting started.’

* * *

The next day Stella and Rick were at six metres and just about to head back to the boat for lunch when Stella spotted a large shape looming below them. Visibility was still excellent but the find was partially obscured by a cascading wall of coral. Rick’s breathing and heart rate picked up and he made a conscious effort to control them as they headed down to explore further.

As they neared, the ghostly grey shape of a remarkably intact, large, old wooden ship appeared. It was wedged into some kind of rocky ravine, the outer ledge of which fell away into the deep blue abyss of Pacific Ocean.

They both hovered above it for a moment, their torches aimed at the broken waterlogged beauty, stunned to be finally staring at something they’d both wondered from time to time ever really existed.

Was it The Mermaid? They couldn’t know for certain—yet. But Rick felt sure in his gut—either that or it was Nathan’s presence. They glided slowly through the waters surrounding the ship, trying to find any outward identifying marks but, whatever the origins, Rick already knew from years of salvage experience they had found something truly amazing.

They circled it in awed silence, the coral encrusted ship spooky in its watery grave. Adrenaline buzzed through Rick’s veins as he became more certain, the dimensions of the find putting it in The Mermaid’s league. They didn’t attempt to go in—that would come later when a more detailed survey had been undertaken. Too many divers had got themselves trapped and died in wrecks to be foolhardy.

And, as Nathan had always drilled into him, a shipwreck was a sacred site. The final resting place of the poor souls that had perished along with it and as such was to be treated with respect.

They discovered a figurehead when the bow came into view but it was too decayed and encrusted with weedy growths and coral life to tell if it was the laughing mermaid that had famously spearheaded Inigo Alvarez’s ship. The nameplate proclaiming the ship as La Sirena was nowhere in sight.

Of course. It was never that easy...

Rick and Stella made their way to where the ghostly shape had settled on rock. He shone his torch, inspecting the damage, trying to ascertain a point of impact. Stella shone hers too, the beam hitting rock, a flash of something reflecting back. Stella looked closer, her heart thumping loudly in the eerie underwater stillness, her hand reaching for the object. She scooped it up, lay it flat in the palm of her hand, shone her torch on it.

A gold coin.

Rick felt a tug on his leg. He turned to find Stella, who was grinning like a loon, holding up what appeared to be a round coin. His heartbeat climbed off the scale as she passed it over.

It was gold and in good nick. Gold coins of good purity usually survived in