The Devil and the Deep - By Amy Andrews Page 0,7

was the best damn intuitive treasure hunter I’ve ever known and if he thinks Inigo’s ship is here somewhere, then I’m willing to bet it is too.’

‘So why didn’t he go after it himself?’ Stella demanded, getting up off the chair and heading for the kitchen sink. When she got there she tipped out her almost-full glass of wine. She was suddenly angry with her father.

If he’d known he was dying, why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he got treatment? Why hadn’t he come home?

‘When did he have the time, Stel, with so many other projects—sure things—on the books?’

Stella looked up at the reproach in his voice, feeling suddenly guilty. They’d both known Nathan’s plans had always involved finding Inigo’s treasure...one day...when he retired...

‘Why on earth did he give us half a map each? He must have known I was just going to give you my half and let you have at it.’

She’d loved her father and he had given her a magical childhood filled with sunken treasure and tropical waters but it had been a long time since she’d been a little girl who believed in pirates and mermaids. And the romance of that world had always warred with the realities of her life—divorced parents, divided loyalties.

Rick stood and walked towards her. He could tell she was struggling with the same emotions he had when he’d seen Nathan’s handwriting again and the memories it had stirred.

‘I think he knew his time was drawing to a close and maybe it was his way to keep us connected? I think he wanted us to go and do this together and I think it would be a great way to honour his memory. What do you say? The long-range weather forecast is good. You want to come on a treasure hunt with me?’

Stella glared at Rick as his not-so-subtle guilt trip found its mark. Well, it wouldn’t work. ‘Are you crazy? I can’t go gallivanting around the bloody ocean. My editor would have apoplexy. My book is way overdue and I have probably the worst case of writer’s block in the history of written language, don’t I, Diana?’

She looked at her friend for confirmation, who did so with a vigorous nod of her head.

‘Well, this is exactly what you need.’ He grinned, unperturbed. ‘Nothing like the open ocean to stimulate the muse.’

Stella stared at him askance. ‘Don’t you have other salvage jobs on the go?’

Rick shrugged. ‘Nothing the guys can’t handle. Besides, it won’t be a salvage job, just a recon mission, see what we can find. A few weeks, four at the most. Just you and me and the open ocean. Salt, sea air and sunshine. You could get a tan,’ he cajoled as he took in her pallor. ‘It’ll be just like we were kids again.’

Stella shook her head against the temptation and romance of yesteryear, which appealed to her on a primal level she didn’t really understand. She dragged her gaze away from his seductive mouth.

They weren’t kids any more.

‘I can’t. I have a book to write.’

‘Come on,’ he murmured, feeling the longing inside her even if she couldn’t. ‘You know you want to. You always wrote like crazy whenever you were on the Persephone. Remember? You were always scribbling away in that writing pad.’

She remembered. She’d either had her head stuck in a book or she’d been writing something. He’d teased her about it mercilessly. She should have known back then she was destined to be a writer. ‘I can’t. Can I, Diana?’

Diana looked at Stella. Then at Rick. Then back at her friend. If anyone needed a change of scenery it was Stella. These four walls were obviously becoming a prison for her despite the view—maybe mixing it up a little would get the juices flowing again.

And if the open ocean was where she was most creative...

Joy would have a fit but Diana had a hunch that this was just what her friend needed. She bloody hoped so because her head would be on the chopping block if Stella returned tanned and still bookless.

She stood and joined them in the kitchen. ‘I think you should go. I think it’s a great idea.’

Stella blinked. ‘What?’ she said as Rick’s grin trebled.

‘This,’ he said, slipping his arm around Diana’s shoulders, ‘is a wise woman.’

‘Thank you.’ Diana beamed at him.

‘Come on, Stel. I dare you.’

Stella rolled her eyes. As kids their relationship had thrived on dares and one-upmanship, Stella hell-bent on proving she could keep up with a boy.

Dare