He put his arm around her, feeling his heart accelerate. “How’s that?”
“Good. That’s fine, I’m warm now, thanks.” She shrugged off his light embrace.
Vaguely disappointed, he picked up his drink while she took her water, clumsily, spilling a little on herself.
“Drat.” She took a napkin and brushed the water off her blouse.
He sipped. “So what’s your history?”
“I grew up on the coast of Maine. My dad had an oyster farm and I helped him out. I basically grew up on the water. We grew ‘diver’ oysters, so I got my PADI open-water cert when I was ten, PADI wreck diving at fifteen, nitrox cert at sixteen, and then I got my certs in cavern, deep diver, ice diver, and the rest. I love the sea and everything under it. Majored in marine biology at USC, went on to get my PhD.”
“In what?”
“The benthic life of the Calypso Deep. That’s the deepest part of the Hellenic Trench, seventeen thousand feet.”
“Where is that, exactly?”
“The Mediterranean, west of the Peloponnesian Peninsula. I spent a lot of time on the R/V Atlantis over there, dove down on the Alvin—that was the first real DSV, actually.”
“Cruising off Greece—nice way to get a PhD.”
“I never feel more at home than when I’m on a ship.”
“Funny, because I never feel less at home. The sea makes me sick. Give me the high mountains of the West and a stream full of cutthroat trout any day.”
“You get seasick, I get altitude sickness.”
“Too bad,” said Gideon. “There goes my marriage proposal.”
The joke fell flat, and Alex sipped her water in the awkward silence that followed.
“And the magic thing? Do you still do that?” Gideon quickly asked.
She waved her hand. “I could never compete with you! It was just a little thing I did to amuse myself and my friends.”
“I’d be happy to teach you a few basics.”
She raised her eyes to him. “That would be wonderful.”
“Maybe we should go back to my quarters—if I can locate them, that is. I actually packed a few magic tricks. I’m sure with a little help you’d pick them up quickly.”
“Let’s go. I’ll show you the way to crew quarters.”
He finished his drink, pretended to slap his jeans. “Oops, forgot my wallet. Would you mind picking up the tab? I’ll get the next one.” He watched with a smile of anticipation as she delved into her purse for her wallet, knowing that she’d find it missing. To his vast surprise, she pulled it out and placed it on the bar.
“Wait…that’s your wallet?”
“Of course.” She took out a twenty and paid the tab.
Gideon reached for his pocket, and found her wallet was gone. His wallet was gone, as well.
“Oh, shit,” he said automatically, “I think I may have dropped something out on deck.” He rose from his stool and immediately fell flat on his face. Stupefied, he looked at his feet—only to find that his shoelaces had been tied together. He glanced up to see Alex laughing hilariously, holding his wallet in her hand—along with his wristwatch.
“So, Gideon,” she said between gusts of laughter. “About those basics?”
7
GIDEON FLUSHED FROM embarrassment. God, he felt like an idiot. He untied his shoes while Alex stood over him, not bothering to conceal her triumph. He stood up and dusted himself off. His embarrassment began to turn to something else as she handed him the wallet and wristwatch.
“You’re not angry?” she asked, recovering her composure.
He looked at her standing there, face aglow, agate eyes twinkling, long glossy hair in unruly coils over her tanned shoulders, breasts still heaving from the recent hilarity. Here she’d humiliated him—and what was his reaction? Overwhelming desire.
He averted his eyes and swallowed. “I guess I deserved it.” He glanced at the bartender but he was inscrutable, as if he’d seen nothing.
“You still want me to show you the crew quarters?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She turned and strode out of the bar and through the dining room while he followed. They navigated another maze of corridors and stairs—through a bulkhead hatch, and into a long narrow corridor with rooms on one side.
She stopped at a door and opened it. “The scientists have private rooms. This is mine.”
He followed her in. It was surprisingly spacious, with a queen-size bed, two portholes, built-in dresser, writing table with a laptop computer, mirror, walls painted cream-white.
“Here’s the bath.” She threw open another door to reveal a small bathroom with a third porthole.
“Very nice,” he said. “Quite the room for a…well, a scientist.”
She turned. “I’m not just a mini sub driver. I’m the mission’s head oceanographer, as I’m sure you know. I’ve been with EES for five years now.”
“Actually, I didn’t know. I haven’t really been briefed, either. How come I’ve never met you before?”
“You must know Glinn’s mania for compartmentalization.”
“And your position vis-à-vis Garza?”
“He’s an engineer; I’m a scientist. EES doesn’t have a normal corporate structure, as I’m sure you’ve realized. Things change from mission to mission.”
He nodded, watching her move around the room, smoothly and gracefully. She had a swimmer’s body, lithe and athletic. He had sworn, absolutely sworn, that he would not get into another romantic entanglement. Given the medical death sentence hanging over his head, it wasn’t fair, either to him or to the woman. But that was theoretical; she was real.
“What’s your room number?” she asked.
“Two fourteen.”
“That’s at the end of the hall. Let’s check it out.” She headed out the door and he followed.
They went down the hall to the door marked 214. He took out the magnetic key card he’d been given when being processed earlier in the day, waved it at the lock, and the door clicked. He pushed it open and switched on the light—to be greeted by a luxurious, spacious cabin, with a row of portholes, a king-size bed, a sitting area with a sofa and two chairs, The floor was covered in thick cream-colored pile, the lighting soft and indirect. His luggage had already been placed in one corner, neatly arranged.
“Wow,” said Alex, stepping inside. “And what’s your position at EES to merit all this?”
“I don’t know. Slacker in chief?”
He followed her in and watched as she took a turn around the room, her hand stroking the quilted bedcovers, adjusting the lights. She opened the door to the bathroom. “A tub, no less!” Making herself quite at home, she next explored the sitting area, where there was a kitchen nook with a microwave oven, coffee machine, and small fridge. She opened the fridge. “And look—Veuve Clicquot!” She took out a split of champagne and waved it at him.
“Great, let’s open it and celebrate.”
She put it back, shut the fridge door firmly. “Two’s my limit, remember? And you’re already over yours. I need you clearheaded for tomorrow’s dive. And besides, I don’t drink champagne in strange men’s rooms.”
“Me? A strange man?”
“Art thief, nuke designer, magician—very strange.”
“We’ll enjoy it tomorrow evening, then. You and me.”
“We’ll be wiped out after our shakedown dive.” She glanced at her watch. “In fact, I’d better be getting back to my quarters. I’ve got a lot of work to do before bedtime.”
He walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder as she turned to go. What was he doing? He knew that third drink was a mistake, but he wasn’t going to stop now. He felt his whole body aching with longing. She paused at his touch and he leaned toward her. But then she deftly ducked out from under his hand and stepped aside. “None of that, mister. Not on a ship. You know better.”