HIGH TIDE (14 page)

To regain feeling in her hands, she brushed them together. Granted, it was contrived, but she tossed
a thumbs-up over her shoulder before venturing into the dark.

Before her, the planks of the pier faded into obscurity once the scope of the w
ire-meshed bulb lost its reach. Nerves numbed the tips of her fingers and set her hands to trembling. But she was determined to find something useful—something that would make Nick stand up and take notice.   

Damn, I’m a fool
.

To Briana’s right, a commercial craft jolted in its slip, the block letters
Windward Explorer
visible in the muted glow of the overhead bulb. As she progressed, it grew darker and more difficult to read the markings. The unearthly groan of the vessels made her conscious of the black water only a few steps in either direction. Briana battled images from the past that threatened to undermine her resolve. Instead, she concentrated on the slip numbers.

Twenty.
  Twenty-one.  Twenty-two
.

There it was. The
Merryweather
rolled lazily in the calm sea, its fifty-foot hull painted white with a thick band of color down the side. It looked like a slash of blood, but that was just her macabre imagination.

A flashlight really would have come in handy, but the darkness was an ally. Still, it was difficult to make out anything on the trawler’s deck. In these shadows any sort of atrocity was feasible, and Briana’s mind ran rampant with
sinister possibilities. Cautiously, she drew closer, holding onto a wooden pillar for support. Splinters jabbed her palm, but she only gripped tighter, leaning over the edge of the jetty for a better view.

There it was
. Or, at least she thought it was a pump. The hulking contour looked suspicious and mechanical by all means, and certainly not conventional fishing paraphernalia for a rented trawler. A precarious shift of her foot angled her in for a closer inspection.

Oh yeah, definitely a dredging mechanism. Now she could see the tell-tale steel net hanging limply from a winch. There was no way this equipment belonged on a civilian craft.

Goose bumps dimpled her skin even though nightfall had not diminished the muggy heat. It was so damn hard to see as she locked one hand on the splintered column and the other splayed in the air for balance.  She tested her limits and leaned further out, close enough to glimpse a hint of residue inside that limp net.

From the black shadows beneath the pier, a hand shot up and seized her arm.

Briana choked on a scream. She pitched forward into the jaws of the void, ready to connect with the malignant water, but the grip on her bicep was fierce enough to draw her back. After a strangled moan, she realized that her feet were stable beneath her. Somehow, that one small fact composed her enough to draw in a deep breath, preparing to shout for all she was worth.

In a rush of air, the stealth-like figure ascended from the shadows and pressed its rigid body behind her, clamping a hand over her mouth to curtail her cry.

“It’s me, dammit.”

A shudder ran through her. She tried to
speak, but the fingers were still secured across her lips. Only after her mute nod of submission did the grip relax.

Two sustaining breaths and Briana was ready to turn around. When she did so, she scarcely recognized the daunting silhouette.

“Dammit, Nick. You scared the hell out of me.” Anxiety toyed with her vocal chords. “What in God’s name are you doing skulking around down there?”

“I don’t skulk,” he replied quietly. “And what I’m
doing here is not important. What the hell were
you
thinking?
There could be a guard out here, someone with a gun.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Nobody’s at this pier. It’s locked up at night.”
Light wasn’t needed to imagine Nick raising his eyebrow. “Okay, so I climbed the fence,” she confessed. “I was curious.”

“About what?”

“This ship. And obviously I’m onto something, because look who else I found sneaking around here.”

The edge was slowly leaving Nick’s
shoulders, but he didn’t slacken his hold on her. “I don’t skulk and I
don’t
sneak. What’s got your curiosity so piqued about this ship that you would risk possible criminal charges—if not worse?”

The contact of Nick’s hands sent chills up her bare arms. She cleared her throat and rose up on her toes to look over his shoulder, assuring
that neither of her cohorts had disobeyed.

Growing increasingly acclimated to the dark, Briana began to discern the outline of Nick’s face,
catching a glint of the shadowed eyes that roved over her skin. Under that alert gaze, another bout of goose bumps assaulted her.

“This boat, the
Merryweather,
rented out dredging equipment two weeks ago. Maybe that may seem innocent enough…but not here, not on the Windward coast—and not on a civilian craft like this.”

***

Every word was uttered in challenge, and Nick struggled not to grin at the earnest expression on Briana’s face. He also toiled with the fact that the tank top she wore stretched enticingly every time she breathed in to convey a point.

“True.”

To his dismay, Briana hugged her arms about her, ruining his view.

“True?” Her voice cracked. “You knew this, so you were out here investigating too?”

“Something like that,” he replied idly and then cleared his throat. “And how did you come about this information? Actually, the big question is
why
were you concerned?”

Before Briana could even respond, a low rumble of mirth sounded from deep in his chest. “You wanted to come to me with evidence that someone other than
Manale Palms
was responsible for what’s happening on that shoreline?” He laughed again. “You wanted to tell me off, didn’t you?”

Briana opened her mouth, closed it, and then smirked. “Something like that.”

Midnight eyes bewitched him, their spark stemming from the solitary bulb in the distance. They traced his every move, and in an attempt to flee that spellbinding gaze, he stared down at his hand, and the moisture on the tips of his fingers. The sparse light revealed a stain there. He held his hand up to catch more of the diffused glow and whispered in alarm, “You’re cut?”

Tentative, Briana reached for her shoulder and flinched. “The fence.”

“Dammit, woman,” Nick was alongside her now, gently turning her to face the light where he could better assess the damage.

It was a jagged scrape, a surface wound, but the blood still flowed.
He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, busily wrapping the material around her arm.

“What are you doing?” Briana’s voice quivered. “It’ll stop. Don’t ruin a good shirt.”

Sensing her body sway, his concern mounted, and he put an arm around her for support. “You know if you wanted to tell me off, you could have just stopped by my place and done it to my face instead of going through all this trouble.”

“Well, maybe I should have.” Briana withdrew from his grasp
. “Anyway, it’s too late for this argument. We’re here now, and I want to see what’s on that boat.”

“Exactly what you suspected.
  Dredging equipment. But that in itself is not implicating enough.”

A flash of recognition went off in her eyes. “Wait a minute! You were
on board
? That’s illegal.”

“And climbing that gate wasn’t?” He reached up and massaged the back of his neck. “Don’t get all pious with me, Briana. Look, as far as legalities are concerned, if those people are dredging government-protected land, we have a lot more to contend with than a little snooping on our parts.”

Briana was right
,
he thought. If Keo knew what he had been up to, the bulky Hawaiian would be chewing his ass out.

Distracted by the motion of Briana dabbing at her arm with his shirt, Nick could nearly swear her nostrils flared, taking in the whiff of the material.
But when she cast a skeptical glance at the
Merryweather
, he was certain he had imagined it.

“But, you couldn’t find anything to implicate them could you?”

“No.” He sighed and grazed her arm with the tips of his fingers. It was a casual gesture, but it felt intimate.

Too intimate
.

Reluctantly, he stepped back. “Come on, we’ll continue this discussion at my place.”

“Your place?”

“Well, yeah, I said you could come back there and tell me off, didn’t I?”

God help him, he awaited her response with his breath held.

Briana’s lips curled up into a grin. “Why, yes you did.”

Nick’s hands were on Briana’s perfectly rounded bottom, his fingers cupped around the athletic curves
as he supported her climb down the fence. When she shot him a
what do you think you’re doing
look, he just smirked and lifted his grip to her waist.

“Just trying to help,” he offered.

“I’m two feet off the ground now,” Briana challenged. “I think I can manage the rest of the way.”

Relinquishing his
hold, he watched as she leapt to the ground, and immediately his hands were on her hips again, winding around her back as he moved in with his head descending.

The sound of rushed footsteps came from the shadows. In his periphery he caught a glimpse of the anxious expressions of an odd duo as they jogged forward.

“The rest of the Musketeers I presume,” he whispered into her hair before releasing her.

“Something like that.”

“Are you okay, Bree?” Naoki’s wide eyes roved over the bloody swathe on Briana’s arm.

Only after she nodded did he turn towards Nick.

Nick felt the iciness of that bespectacled stare, and out of respect to the young man, retreated a step from Briana.

“Just a scratch,” Briana proclaimed. “Umm, Naoki you remember Mr. McCord, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

The scowl on the young man’s face was predatory, but Nick didn’t believe it had anything to do with infatuation. No, Naoki was protective of Briana, a trait
he could commiserate with. When he noticed that no hand was offered, Nick just nodded.

“And this is Kathy Bishop, an intern for Pacific.”

Kathy inched closer to Naoki’s side as she stared at Nick’s chest with rapt fascination. “Is this the
professor
?” she whispered.

Naoki only grunted.

***

“Did you find anything?” Kathy’s owlish eyes flashed.

“Yeah,” With a sidelong glance at the man beside her, Briana cleared her throat. “I couldn’t get on board, but I saw something on deck, the dredging equipment I’m surmising. Nick was—”

The slight cough from the man motivated her to alter her
summation. “Umm, Nick was getting back from running some tests off the Manale shore. Good thing that he had just pulled into port, I guess. He bandaged me all up.”

“Yeah, good thing,” Naoki echoed incredulously.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I want to go over some of the notes Nick retrieved today. Naoki, could you drive Kathy back to the office?”

The scowl of disapproval on her friend’s forehead aggravated Briana, but she knew that censure stemmed from wariness. She waited a second, and prompted, “Naoki?”

Naoki sighed and glanced down at Kathy, who was now practically draped against his arm. Briana could tell he was assessing the girl, and his expression didn’t bear disdain any longer—just curiosity.

With a sigh, Naoki relented. “Yeah, no problem. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Briana chanced a look at Nick and considered the question. Sensing her appraisal, he smiled, but only in his eyes and only for her to see. Something about that secreted smile made her pulse kick up a notch.

Distracted, she forced her attention back. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. McCord,” Kathy tossed over her shoulder as Naoki tugged her away.

“Nice meeting you too, Miss Bishop.” This time the grin surfaced on his lips, and Kathy responded with a giggle before Naoki opened his car door and motioned her in.

“You have a way with women, don’t you?” Briana jibed.

There was silence, but she felt his heavy gaze. When she looked, she nearly gasped. Gone was any pretense of
amusement on his face. Now only dark passion smoldered back at her.

***

Admirably, he had remained calm. But seeing Briana wounded, feeling her blood on his hands, had triggered emotions Nick had struggled to keep control this past week. He waited until the sedan pulled out of the parking lot and then reached for her, sinking his fingers into her hair—tipping her head back as his mouth dropped quickly to capture hers. It was a hot and demanding need that spurred him on.

“Dammit, Briana,” he breathed against her lips. “What were you doing out here tonight? You could have been seriously hurt. This isn’t a game, you know.”