Eyes of Fire

Liam leaned over her. “You’re alive,” he said softly.

She shook her head, moistening her lips. “Justin Carlyle has to be dead. And you can’t blame Sam for not wanting to talk about the ship.”

“That’s why she needs some gentle encouragement.”

“Well, I’ve been encouraging her just as gently as I can,” Jerry said. She rose, anxious to get away from him to recover her calm. She left him on the porch and walked on into the cottage. She headed straight for the bath, took off her makeup with petroleum jelly, then washed her face with cold cream. She’d performed the same acts religiously for years and believed with good reason that the very simplicity of her regime had kept her skin young and supple all these years.

She never told anyone quite how many.

She slipped into the slinky red nightgown hanging on the door hook. For a moment she studied her face in the mirror and wondered how she’d managed to make such a mess of things. Wondering wouldn’t help. She’d already done it.

She left the bedroom. Liam was already in bed, in his boxers, staring up at the ceiling, his hands folded behind his head. He was in excellent shape—she had to hand him that.

She slid in beside him, her back to him.

“Tired?” he asked her.

“Mmm.”

“Lounging around can be exhausting.”

“The sun is hot. I spent the day at the pool.”

“You’re going to have to dive. Soon,” he told her.

“All right, soon.”

“You don’t understand the stakes,” he told her.

“No,” she said quietly, “you don’t understand the stakes.”

She felt his hands on her shoulders, then his lips against her nape.

She didn’t want him, but she didn’t stop him. There had been too many men in her life. She stared at the wall in the darkness, felt his hands on her hips, heard his grunts. So much for romance. Liam had some mean appetites, and his idea of foreplay was a tap on a shoulder. Yet he was good to her, in his way….

Once upon a time there had been a good man in her life. One who cared, who laughed, who gave her flowers, who let her see the world through new eyes. But that had been long ago, when things had seemed important. Having things, going places, living the good life. She’d seen too late that one fresh flower could be worth a dozen diamonds, that one crooked smile could light up the world when the dazzle of gold failed.

She’d come so close to finding what was good again, only to have it grabbed from her hands. She’d come to know that love was precious, but life itself could be the grandest prize.

She felt silent tears forming in her eyes, sliding damply to her cheeks. Liam would never notice.

And even if he did, she wondered if he would care.

Jem had just settled down on the sofa when he heard a soft tapping at the door. For a moment he froze.

Already! he thought. Already, already, already. The danger was coming already.

Then he told himself it was unlikely that danger would knock on the door, and he rose, walking to the door, pausing just behind and to the side of it. He hesitated, but the caller on the other side apparently realized that he was standing there silently.

“Jem, it’s Adam.”

Jem opened the door, letting Adam O’Connor in. He grinned, shaking his head as he studied his old friend. “I still can’t get over the fact that you’re here. Of course, I’m damned glad, even if I have no idea what the hell is going on.”

“Is she sleeping?” Adam asked, inclining his head toward the bedroom.

Jem shrugged. “I guess.”

Adam walked in. He’d changed into swim trunks, a short-sleeved shirt and deck shoes.

“You can take the sofa,” Jem offered, realizing that Adam had come to stay despite the fact that he had asked Jem to watch Sam. Jem wasn’t insulted. Adam wasn’t doubting his ability to keep Sam safe. In fact, Adam probably wasn’t sure exactly why he was there himself.

Jem knew, but he sure wasn’t going to try to tell Adam.

“No, no. I’ll be fine on the chair.”

Jem tossed him a pillow. “You really think Sam’s still in danger? I mean, this guy must know you’re looking after her now.”

“Someone wants her, at almost any price. Someone who thinks she knows something.”

“About what?”

“The Beldona.”

“Damned old shipwreck! What could she know about it?”

“Where it is, for one thing.”

“There could be more?”

“I think there’s got to be more,” Adam said.

Jem cocked his head, watching Adam. “You know, I’m damned glad to see you. I was sorry when you left. I thought you and Sam both lost something really good. But I’ll tell you bluntly, I can’t quite figure out how the hell you managed to come back at just the right time.”

“I didn’t manage to come back at the right time,” Adam said flatly, lifting his hands, palms up, to Jem. “Sam’s father disappeared, then that researcher out of Massachusetts she was involved with.”

“Hank,” Jem said softly. But he wasn’t going to be sidetracked. He and Sam and Yancy had been friends for too long. They were family. “So how’d you happen to be back here tonight?”

“That I was here at exactly the right time—luck,” Adam said grimly. “That I’m on the island now…well, I’m after the Beldona, as well, I guess. I’m working privately. Following in the footsteps of other divers who’ve been after the ship. And there are several people on the island now who are also working for people interested in the Beldona.”

“First things first,” Jem said. “Who are you working for?”

Adam stared him in the eyes, but hesitated. “Jem, I’m not in a position to tell you that yet. If it becomes necessary, I will tell you. That’s a promise.”

“All right, then what the hell is happening on the island?” Jem demanded.

Again Adam hesitated.

“Adam, you’ve gotta give me something,” Jem insisted.

Adam grinned suddenly. “Frankly, I don’t quite know where the hell to start!”

“We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” Jem said, crossing his muscled ebony arms over his chest.

Adam smiled and took a seat in one of the big Victorian chairs. He folded his hands behind his head and settled back. “Yeah, I guess we do. Does she keep any brandy around?”

“I imagine,” Jem said.

“Well, go get it. I’ll do my best to start at the beginning. And I’ll tell you what I can.”

6

T he promised rain started very early, at about five o’clock in the morning.

Adam awoke when the rain began.

He sat in the chair where he had slept, listening to it pound against the roof of Sam’s cottage. Then he tried to move. He winced, feeling a dozen cricks in the back of his neck. He stretched, then rose, walking awkwardly around the room, glad that Jem wasn’t awake yet. Chairs were just not the way to go.

He moved silently down the hallway, slipping into Sam’s room.

She was sleeping. Soundly, or so it seemed.

She was curled on her side, hands folded prayer fashion before her, her profile against the pillow, her hair