Water Bound (39 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

BOOK: Water Bound
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“Rikki.” His voice was gentle. “That’s just silly. Let me help you. I won’t touch anything unless you tell me to. You trust me with your body, you can trust me with your things.” He could see she was already becoming agitated, thrown off by the change in her routine. “Give me something to do. One thing. Diving is exhausting work. I can do the menial things.”
She slipped into the bottom half of her wet suit while she thought it over. “I’ll hook the bag to my hose and send it up. When it hits the surface, you can pull the bag in—
slowly
—which will pull me up as well. When the bag gets to the boat, secure the hook to the urchin bag and disconnect the hose. I’ll either come aboard to rest and eat, or I’ll want another bag. If I ask for a bag give it to me before you haul the uni aboard. Fill the urchin hole with the bags first. Once the urchin hole is full cover the bags on the deck with the silver tarp—silver side up.”
“I can do that.”
She dragged her T-shirt over her head and folded it as neatly as she had her jeans, uncaring that she was bare-breasted, the morning sun playing over her slender curves with a loving hand. She didn’t seem to notice her state of undress, but he couldn’t help himself, his gaze drifting possessively, drinking her in. She was
his
. This wild, independent woman was a mixture of vulnerability and courage. There would be few people in her life who appreciated her quick mind and bravery facing the challenges of a world she was born too sensitive to function in properly—yet she managed, carving out a life for herself against impossible odds.
Lev found himself with his mouth dry and his heart pounding. The light spun around her, turning her skin to soft cream and making her enormous eyes appear even blacker and more mysterious and exotic than ever. She had the adorable little frown on her face he’d come to know meant she was concentrating, wrestling with her inability to cope with change in her routine. He liked that he was one of the few people she trusted into her life, and he loved that he was the only one she would allow on her boat or in her bed. She belonged to him exclusively, and there was satisfaction and even pride in that.
“Slowly,” he agreed when he could find his voice. “I pull the bag in slowly. Urchins in the hold first and then if they’re on deck cover them with the silver tarp, silver side up. Nothing more, nothing less, and take my time.”
She rubbed baby shampoo over her upper body, her fingers gliding over her skin, her breasts, her small, tucked-in waist. It was more erotic than anything he’d ever seen.
“It’s possible someone will see us here, Fish and Game, and they’ll check your license. A tender makes certain other boats stay out of a diver’s territory. Keep track of where your diver has gone so other divers don’t enter my territory.”
Smirking, he glanced at the sky. That part would be easy enough. No one was getting near his diver.
“And stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to eat me.”
Now his smirk was all for her. “I could, you know. Every morning for breakfast. Right here on the boat. Doesn’t matter. I could be as addicted to your taste as you are to peanut butter.”
She sent him a look from under her lashes that made him want to kiss her. He folded his arms and regarded her steadily as she pulled on her tight shirt and then hooked her belt around her waist. Her eyes had gone bedroom sexy. She liked the idea as much as he did.
“You’re just a little perverted, you know that, don’t you?” she said.
He shrugged, unrepentant. “Fortunately you like me this way.”
Her answering smile was slow, but it came. “All right,” she conceded, “maybe that’s true. I’ve got to go to work.”
“You like this, don’t you?”
Rikki nodded. “This is my world, Lev.”
She didn’t look at him again, engrossed in her routine, meticulously going over every piece of equipment. He watched her prepare for her dive, each separate step, committing it to memory, so that he would be able to anticipate anything she might need if she ever allowed a partnership between them. He noted her hoses were wrapped in a loop, each length of the circle exact. Her rake had a knife welded to it, but she didn’t carry any other weapon on her person, a concept completely foreign to his nature.
Once again he could see he was completely forgotten. He imagined most men’s egos would take a beating when they realized that she simply put them out of her head as if they no longer existed. She was very focused as she checked her lifeline, the air compressor, her hose and her bailout tank, which she wore on her back. She had her instruments strapped to her wrist and her gear on when she suddenly looked up at him and smiled. For him.
His heart jumped again. He’d never been so affected by anyone in his life. “Have a good time, Rikki.”
She turned toward the side of the boat and then hesitated. “You’ll be all right?”
He stepped up to her and took her face in his hands, kissing her long and deep. “Don’t worry about me. I have plenty to do.”
She frowned at him, kissed him again and slipped from his arms, making her way to the edge of the boat. She went into the water and caught the anchor chain, using it to make her way down to the depth she wanted to go. Otherwise, the flow of the current would have taken her away.
Lev watched her disappear, his heart in his throat. He shoved his hand through his thick hair and peered down into the water where she’d disappeared. He was going to be one of those obnoxious men who refused to leave his wife’s side. He wanted to be down there with her, with spears and knives and maybe a torpedo or two, just in case. Who knew he would be like this?
He studied the terrain around them. It was beautiful, the air crisp, the sight unbelievable. The cliffs were high, and the long expanse of rock, pointing like a finger from the land, seemed to run straight back to the highway. He found himself settling. This was what he wanted. This place. This woman. Diving with her in the environment she was most comfortable in.
He had money, enough that neither of them would have to work again, but she would never accept that, and he loved that about her. He was already committed, his mind, his heart, definitely his body. She was his life now.
So how was he going to stop the inevitable questions? Levi Hammond had a past. He had created an entire life for himself, adding an extensive diving hobby. Hammond’s parents were no longer alive, but they’d left him money, plenty of it, and that had been the most difficult part of building a fake life. Money could be traced. He’d had to come up with plausible ways his parents could have left him an inheritance that if looked into, would appear solid.
Once he’d covered his financial tracks, he considered he was relatively safe—but for Ralph. Ralph was a problem and today, when they brought the urchins to the dock where the processing plant would pick them up, Lev would have to make the final decision on how he was going to start his new life. Risk everything and let the man live, or find a way for an accident to happen. He didn’t like either alternative, and he didn’t want to go to Rikki with blood on his hands, not the blood of an innocent man.
15
RIKKI felt the cool relief of the water enfolding her body. It had been too long. Every cell seemed to soak up the moisture, she was so thirsty she seemed to drink with every part of her body. She felt the familiar stillness, the calming in her mind, as if, down here in this world of water, everything was synced and perfect. There was no noise to fill her head and pound and stab. She didn’t have to watch everything she said and did, as if at any moment she would somehow be stepping on someone’s “normal.” She could just be.
Massive schools of codfish, mottled blue and black, swam in a flashing wave. Starfish in bright, fiery oranges and deep purples clung to the rocks, rock and spider crabs dappled the walls, living decorations. And the urchin were plentiful. She looked up and the water shimmered in layers of pearlescent color, vivid blue, gray and near the surface an emerald glow. A few jellyfish floated free, tentacles searching. She continued down, just enjoying the view along the way. Orange sea cucumbers and red abalone adorned several of the rocks. Visibility was good and she made out more starfish, anemones and sponges in a variety of shapes and colors. On the bottom there was a brilliant purple pincushion guarding several lemon nudis.
The contour of the underground range was just like aboveground, peaks and valleys and ravines. She was very familiar with the area, it was one of her favorites places to dive. Her life had changed dramatically in the last few weeks, but the ocean was the same, always constant, always beautiful and always very treacherous if one didn’t pay close attention to her.
She had to be careful to focus on work rather than on the beauty of the sea life around her. The colorful anemones and starfish always captured her attention. One could easily get lost in the vivid world and forget the passage of time, always crucial underwater when one needed air to breathe.
She began raking sea urchins into her net, losing herself in the rhythm of her work. Curious fish drifted around her, but nothing disturbed her and she was able to get her net filled quickly. The current seemed stronger than usual, but the series of storms had prevented her from diving for a couple of weeks and the rivers had filled and were dumping into the sea.
By the time she’d filled her first net and hooked it and was working on the second, she was getting tired.
Out of shape
. Or maybe she was exhausted from making love so often. Lev and she had been holed up in their house for days. Each evening one of her sisters brought dinner by, but that was the only time they saw anyone else. They spent each day together doing the silliest things and then making love. Talking and making love. Exploring the house and making love. They’d had sex in every single room a dozen times.
Lev was insidious. He just sort of snaked his way into her world and had already become a part of it. And somehow, he’d managed to wheedle his way onto her boat. She’d lived with that reminder for almost a week. Now he was up there, probably touching her equipment. She raked faster, her arms aching.
She sent the first bag to the surface and hooked the second one, allowing it to float up as well. She followed at a more leisurely pace. Lev had been paying attention when she’d given him instructions because he was slowly pulling in the hose, and her with it. After working alone for so long, it was an odd sensation to have someone else helping. She wasn’t positive she liked it. Relying on herself was easier and safer. If she depended on someone else, eventually, in a crisis she might hesitate, and seconds counted under water.
When she’d worked with Daniel, he’d owned the boat. They’d dived together, and they’d done cleanup together. They’d been diving buddies, but Daniel, because the boat was his, had been the captain. He shared the work with her and they never had so much as a squabble. But when she was diving, even with him, she’d totally relied on herself. The few times she’d tried working with a tender, her need for an exact routine had always made it impossible.
Nearing the surface, she caught a glimpse of something exploding out of the rock as if shot from a gun, rocketing toward her through the water. A huge lingcod with a mouthful of wickedly sharp teeth had emerged from a dark crevasse in the rock and charged straight at her. It came right between her legs and she rolled over in an effort to get away. The mottled fish had to be a good fifty inches in length and weigh in at sixty pounds. With eighteen large teeth coming at her, she whipped around to keep a wary eye on it.
The cod continued on past her, evidently intent on a good-sized cabazon swimming back down to the floor where it preferred to hang. The cod grabbed the cabazon, shook him three or four times as if the twenty-pounder was nothing, split him in half and spit him out. For a moment the cod watched with evident satisfaction as the two halves of the cabazon floated away. The cod ignored her and swam back to his rock.
She stuck her head above water, hanging on to the anchor chain so the current couldn’t take her away from the boat and watching as Lev carefully pulled up the urchin nets. He followed her orders exactly, placing them in the hold and covering them. She signaled for another net. She had close to a thousand pounds and thought she might be able to pull in another three to five hundred for a good day’s work if she was lucky.
The wind had picked up a bit and mist had begun to drift in from out at sea. She didn’t want to take any chances with Lev aboard.
“You tired?” he called.
She shrugged. “I’ll come in after this next haul.”
He nodded and gave her the net. “Be careful, Rikki.”
“I always am,” she said.
A gull screamed and Lev turned his attention skyward. Rikki shoved her regulator into her mouth and started back down, trailing the net. She turned her head at the first sign of movement and found the cod back, this time, charging straight at her. It was ugly, the huge mouth wide-open, showing teeth. Its bulging eyes fixed on her. Instinctively she thrust the net in front of her to protect herself. The cod rocketed so fast through the water that he burst into the net, nearly striking her anyway. She just managed to shove the net to one side, avoiding the contact, but he was so strong and swimming so fast he nearly jerked her arm out of the socket. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and without thinking she lifted the net out of the water and tossed, throwing the fish out.

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