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Authors: Deniece Greene

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BOOK: Treasure Tides (The Coins)
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CHAPTER THREE
Royce’s arms wrapped around her like steal bands. His hands trailed
softly down her back, following the line of her spine.

“Don’t cry,” he lifted his lips long enough to whisper, and then his
lips were firmly planted on hers once again. Instinctively she burrowed
closer, her arms finding their way around his waist.
Momentarily
forgetting that they were in a public garden, he allowed one hand to
venture lower as he pressed her more tightly against him.

Becki gradually surfaced. Her anger pushing its way past the pleasure
of being wrapped in Royce’s arms gave her the strength to wrench her
lips from his.

“Stop manhandling me,” she snarled. “I thought you were leaving
town? Gee, I must have misunderstood what you said,” she mocked,
grabbing his hands to move them from her ass. “I must admit though, I
was somewhat surprised to see you here. I thought for a minute that--”
she stopped abruptly.

Royce had allowed her to reposition his hands more appropriately at
her waist, but he was not willing to let her go entirely. Not until-- well-at least not right now.

“You thought--” he prompted, continuing to nibble at her neck;
trailing kisses from her ear, to her shoulder, and back. Trying to keep his
hands respectably wrapped around her waist was not easy, but after all,
they were standing in a public park.

“I stopped thinking at ‘
hell no’.”

Royce abruptly stopped his assault, and lifted his head to make eye
contact with Becki. He immediately felt like a heel. This was the second
time today he had been responsible for her tear-filled eyes.

“I’m sor--” Royce began.
“I’ve got to say,” Becki jumped in, unwilling to listen to his apology,
“it cleared things up pretty quickly for me.”

Swiping a hand quickly across the corner of her eye, she brushed away
the single tear that had dared to escape before continuing, “So now, if
you will get your hands off of me, I’ll be on my way,” she concluded,
trying to wiggle her way out of his arms.

“I didn’t mean it like--” he tried again to explain.

“The
hell
you didn’t! This is bullshit! At the risk of repeating
myself… which I
hate
to do,
get your hands off me you
--”
“I’m getting very tired of your name-calling,” Royce warned, pulling
her off the pathway and into one of the garden rooms. “We will discuss
this like adults.”
“Whatever. I’m
getting very tired
of your pawing me,” Becki mocked,
“so why don’t you just let me
go
.” Becki pushed harder against his chest.
Her heart did not want to leave, but they had already been over this
once; he didn’t have time for her.
God, would this day ever end?
“Stop squirming or you’re going to be embarrassed when I throw you
over my shoulder and escort you to my room,” he growled.
All movement abruptly ceased.
As she stood perfectly still, focusing
somewhere over his left shoulder, Becki said wearily, “You are going to
have to make up your mind, Royce. I can’t keep up. I thought you were
“behind schedule” and couldn’t
possibly
fit me in. You were supposed to
be leaving town, or did I misunderstand something?” Becki heaved a
sigh before suddenly pinning him with her gaze, “You know what? It
doesn’t really matter,” she announced.
Feeling as if he had been sucker-punched, he slowly allowed his arms
to drop to his sides, giving her the freedom she wanted.
Becki stood against him a moment longer, and then forced herself to
step away. She turned and squared her shoulders as her mother’s words
echoed through her ears: “True character is measured by the grace in
which a person handles life’s disappointments.”
This is certainly turning out
to be a big disappointment, Momma
.
“I am leaving town, but I have to find something first,” Royce
admitted. “Can we take a walk?” he asked, reaching out to grasp her
hand.
“My turn to say
hell no
,” Becki answered as she slid her hand easily out
of his grasp. “I don’t
want
to walk with you. I don’t want to
talk
with
you,” Becki elaborated. “Hell, I don’t want to be in the same
time zone
as
you right now.”
Sorry Momma
, she mentally apologized.
“I’ve been pretty understanding about all this secrecy bullshit, Royce.
I didn’t call the police this morning when you traipsed through my living
room wearing a
hand towel
. I bit my tongue even when I wanted more
than anything to pressure you for information.
You
broke into
my
house,
used
my
washer and dryer, drank
my
coffee, and took a shower, for-godsake. I had to think about that the whole time I was in there getting
ready this morning. Then to top it all off, you kissed me like--”
She was on a roll now and prayed to make to the end without tearing
up again. “You kissed me and then walked away without a backward
glance. I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours, and you’ve
managed to insult me more than anyone I’ve
ever
known.
So you see, I
don’t want to deal with you
or
your precious “time schedule”; and
speaking of which, you shouldn’t waste any more of your oh-so-valuable
time with me. Goodbye, Royce. Have a great life.”
Whew, she made it. Now, she just needed to get the hell out of here,
so she could have a well-deserved melt-down in private. God, he got
under her skin like no other. She should be
glad
to know she would never
see him again, the arrogant bastard.
“Please?” Royce took the wind out of her sails with one softly
spoken word.
Her brain screamed,
Run--don’t walk, as far away as you can
. Her heart
whispered,
Just a little while longer
. With Lucifer sitting on one shoulder
and an angel sitting on the other, her brain and heart battled it out.
Her heart won. “Ok,” Becki relented, “but I need to find Natie first.”
Royce recaptured her hand and tugged her in the direction of the sea
wall that protected The Battery.
A walkway, just inside the sea wall,
provided a perfect place to stroll, hand-in-hand, while absorbing the
beauty and splendor of Charleston. The water in the harbor was a little
choppy today, and the occasional gust of wind blew through, but the
wind and water always seemed to carry one’s troubles far, far away.
“Oh, the girl you were dragging around like a rag doll?”
“Very funny,” Becki frowned, as she continued to scan the gardens
for her sister.
“Don’t worry, she is with Sean, he will take good care of her.”
“Who is Sean?”
“Sean is one of my--, uh--, employees. He is also a good friend.”
“See, that is just what I mean; the ‘
uh--’
, like you have to think
everything through before you speak.
That does
not
inspire trust,
Royce,” Becki complained.
“Ok, let me try again. Sean is an employee, but also my friend.
I
would trust him with my life,” Royce said reassuringly.
“I’m
so not
able to keep up,” Becki said with a sigh. “You wear me
out Royce. You beat me up, and then tear me down. I don’t know what
to expect, and about the time I think I have it figured out, you throw a
curve ball. I don’t know why I’m here with you now; I should stay as far
away as possible, out of self-preservation if nothing else, and yet--” Becki
turned to face him looking deeply into his beautiful eyes, and quietly
admitted, “and yet, I can’t seem to help myself. How crazy is that?”
“It’s not crazy,” Royce responded hollowly.
Becki rolled her eyes before clarifying, “That was another rhetorical
question.”
Moving closer to the sea wall, she leaned out to look at the barnacles
collecting on the lower portion of the wall before confiding, “I don’t
really know you; I don’t really know anything about you. I do know you
are keeping secrets, and you must be involved in something dangerous if
the tat is at all significant.
You never did explain why you have one so
similar to Kurt’s.”
Royce shoved his hands in his front pockets, trying to figure out how
to respond to everything she had just said without lying to her again.
While he was still formulating, Becki whispered a confession that shot an
arrow straight through his heart.
“I’m a little afraid of you,” she said softly, staring intently at Fort
Sumter in the distance.
Becki felt his hands descend on her shoulders, and gently turned her
to face him. He bent his knees slightly, bringing his face down to meet
hers at eye level.
“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me,” he managed. “I told you
this morning that I would not hurt you. I won’t,” he promised again.
“You have my word.”
Realizing that he had misunderstood her words, she cupped his face
in both hands and explained, “I don’t mean that I’m afraid of you
physically. I know you are an honorable man, Royce;
that
much I do
know. But there are so many things I don’t know.” Sliding her hands to
rest flat on his chest, she continued, “Important things; like…who are
you, really? And don’t give me that ‘home security’ story. I’m not
buying it,” she warned. “How did you get here? What is it that you have
to find?” Eventually she got to the heart of the matter, “Do you have a
wife waiting for you somewhere, a girlfriend? Those are the things I am
afraid of, Royce, the things that could potentially hurt me.”
“You are precious,” he said, dropping a quick buzz on her nose. He
plucked one of her hands from his chest, and began walking again,
leaving her no choice but to move with him.
“I direct and manage a team of recovery experts, a division of ART
Security. There was a collection of artifacts,
coins
, stolen quite some time
ago.
The coin collection was eventually divided and then scattered
around the world. One piece of the collection was last seen here, in
Charleston. I’m trying to locate and return it to the rightful owners.
Then my team will move on to recover the next, and then the next, until
we have recovered them all,” Royce explained, sticking to the truth, but
not the
whole
truth.
Becki stopped short and turned to face him. “Seriously, Royce? You
are just looking for a bunch of old coins? That’s it? That’s the secret?”
she played him, batting her eyes like the idiot he seemed to think she
was.
“I can help you find them, Royce; I’m good at treasure hunting. I
have a knack for finding things. Just yesterday, I found the coolest crate
while Jonah and I were hunting sharks’ teeth.”
Obviously, she was not going let it go easily, so Royce presented one
more detail, “The collection is worth a lot of money, Becki.”
“Do you realize you have never shown any interest in the crate that
was stolen from my back yard?” Becki pressed suddenly. “Kurt acted
really funny about that, Royce, and I thought at the time he was being
overprotective. I’ve thought about your conversation with him, and the
fact that I had to leave my own deck so you could talk privately.
Something is not adding up, Royce.
Are you really here just to look for
some coins that a collector hired you to find?”
“I am,” Royce answered in all honesty.
“Great, then I can help.” Pulling out her cell phone, she opened
messaging and looked at Royce with an expectant expression, “Explain
what you are looking for, and I can get some of my friends…”
“No.”
“No?” Becki repeated.
“No,” Royce repeated firmly.
Becki’s phone
beeped
at that moment and flashed message from Natie;
Catch ya this pm 6 at Kurt’s

As he watched Becki respond to the text message, he thought about
his current predicament.
Finding this coin was proving to be more
difficult than he had initially anticipated. The Council thought they were
getting close to being able to lift the cloaks currently surrounding each
coin. Sean was here hoping to use the new software and receptors he
had developed to pick up a trail of digital bread crumbs that should have
been left behind by the coins. He was not certain how long the digital
trail might last or how close to the trail the receptors had to be in order
to pick it up. The software was still in the final stages of development,
but if Sean could collect enough data at this location, he might be able to
better use the technology to locate the remaining coins.
Joanna would be arriving in the morning to work the magic angle;
together, hopefully, they could peek through the cloaking spells.
Coins and spells
. Grim reminders to Royce that he could not allow
himself to be become emotionally entwined with someone like Becki.
Someone good, someone blissfully unaware of all things immortal,
someone unaware of the reality that things
do
go
bump
in the night,
someone sweet and innocent.
“That was Natie,” Becki announced. “Come to think of it, she could
help too. Now, back to my original question: What is it
exactly
that we
should be looking for?”
Turning to look across the water at Fort Sumter, Royce pulled Becki
close to his side and tucked her under his arm. “I’m not going there with
you Becki, so just stop. I can’t share the details of the recovery mission;
the owner insists on privacy.” Regretfully he continued, “I also can’t get
involved with you.”
Becki immediately stiffened and shifted to pull away from him.
“I can’t get involved; no matter how intelligent, sexy, and beautiful
you are,” Royce pinned her
once
again
with
his
beautiful
eyes,
continuing, “not because I don’t
want
to, but because I
can’t
.”
Royce still held onto her, cherishing these few moments, tucking
away a memory to pull out on a lonely day. His thoughts drifted to the
coin collector, the one found dead in Savannah.
He stiffened his
resolve and forced himself to say, “There are things you wouldn’t
understand; things I can’t tell you. Unscrupulous people are involved;
people who will hurt or kill anyone who gets in their way. I can’t risk
it, Becki. I can’t risk you being in danger because of me and what I
do.”
“Wow, I guess I just don’t appreciate antiques and art near-enough,
because I’ve never seen anything worth killing someone for. In fact,
most of what is considered ‘art’ seems just plain ugly to me.”
Royce chuckled. “You have a point there. I do wish things were
different, Becki.
You are a breath of fresh air.
Someone will be very
lucky to call you his own.”
“By
someone
, you mean someone
other
than you,” Becki clarified, her
arm around his waist, her head tipped looking at him from under long
dark lashes. “If that is how you feel, then you need to stop kissing me
and stop with all this touchy-feely stuff, because you are sending mixed
signals. I know you feel what I feel, or at least something similar, and to
think that you can just turn and walk away from it, from
me-

She stood watching emotions play over his face-- waiting for Royce to
say something.
“Can you do that Royce? Can you really do that?” she whispered
hopefully.
Becki felt her heart breaking as she saw the answer in his eyes.
The moment was shattered by someone calling her name.
“Becki? Hi doll, how goes it?”
Trevor Simmons, cruising by in his Porsche 911 convertible, was just
what she needed…a knight in shining armor. And what a chariot he
possessed!
Royce’s silence was answer enough. Sliding her arms from where
they were still resting around Royce’s waist, she stepped quickly toward
the car. Pretending her heart wasn’t breaking, and pretending she didn’t
care, she pasted on a smile.
“Hi Trev, give me a ride?” she asked.
“Sure Babe. I’ll give you a ride anytime…anywhere.” Trevor made a
production of raking his eyes up and down her body, leering as if she
were all his bad-boy fantasies rolled into one. “It will be my pleasure
doll,” he assured her. After casting an

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