Her eyes glistened with gratitude. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Bettencourt.”

“Please, call me Solange.”

“And I’m Brianna.”

Solange reached out a hand. “I’ve no doubt we’ll become good friends.”

“IKNOW EXACTLY what happened.” Lizzie was wrapped in a wool blanket she’d found in the cuddy cabin, curled into the passenger seat as they trolled the empty waters seeking clues for the missing Gold Digger. “We did this the first week on the dive.”

“Hid from poachers?” Con asked as he dialed the number he had for the bridge again. “I thought of that. But someone should be answering the radio, even if they moved to escape detection.”

“Flynn made us go completely dark that time. The Captain took us about ten miles farther west, and we turned off the engines and lights. Paxton is totally paranoid about being caught.”

Con considered calling the Coast Guard, but Judd Paxton would not be pleased with that decision, so he settled for a text to Lucy to see if the Bullet Catchers had been apprised of the move. If they had, though, someone would have alerted him.

In the meantime, they had two choices: wait where the boat had been, or search for it in the vast blackness of the Atlantic Ocean.

“My guess is they’ll be back in the morning,” she said, tucking deeper into the blanket with a shiver.

“You should go below,” he said. “You’re going to freeze up here. I’ll watch for them.”

“Me?” She fluttered the blanket corner. “You’re the one with no shirt.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll say.”

Oh, boy. This might be worse than he thought. He gave her a half smile, but kept his gaze on the black horizon. “I think you’ve caught a case of hero worship.” And a serious misinterpretation of the events.

“Get real, Xenakis.” She smiled slyly. “The bare chest doesn’t suck, though.”

His half smile grew whole. “No? You wouldn’t give me the time of day, and now…” Now that she thought he was an undercover agent, she was suddenly a big fan.

“I took two showers with you. That’s the time of day in my book.”

“Life saving, both times.”

She shifted and wrapped the blanket tighter as he dropped back on to the captain’s chair with a frustrated sigh. “No one is out here, Lizzie.”

“Ten miles west, believe me. Try it, you’ll find the Gold Digger.”

“All right.” He kicked up the engines a little, watching the GPS. “We’ve got nothing to lose.”

He leaned back, one hand on the throttle, not minding the chill of the wind on his skin. But after about a mile, Lizzie stood up.

“Going down to get warm?” he asked.

“Nope.” She slipped behind him, opening her blanket like a cape to wrap it around him, snuggling them together.

The welcome heat was almost a shock.

“You have to be cold,” she said.

“I’ve been colder, but thanks.”

She leaned her head closer to his, her cheek silky as it brushed his face. “I know. I was there last time you had hypothermia, remember?”

“One of the best recoveries for hypo I ever had.”

She laughed softly, the sound transmitting from her chest to his back from the direct, close contact.

“How many times have you had it?”

“In BUD/S training? A few.”

“Is that SEAL training? I’ve heard about it. Was it as hard as they say?”

“No.” He laughed. “Way worse.”

“What made you decide to be a SEAL? And why did you quit?”

“Those two questions are so far apart, they don’t belong in the same conversation.”

“Really?” She inched around to see his face. “Tell me.”

The chill was gone completely now, replaced by her body warmth and by the slow simmer of arousal that tightened his jeans every time the boat bounced and her breasts moved against his back.

“Start with the first question,” he said. He’d end with it, too. “It was the Navy or…” Prison. “A tough life.”

“You said you grew up in Florida, right?”

“Tarpon Springs, home of the Greek Americans.”

She laughed. “Are you from one of those crazy Greek families like in the wedding movie?”

“No.” He maybe said it too harshly, because she eased around even more to look at his face.

“What was your family like?”

He shrugged. “Define family.”

“The people who raised you?”

“Friends, not family.”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents never married,” he explained, keeping the unusual tale to a minimum of detail. “My father was in the military and was killed on a black ops-type mission when I was a baby. He’d been some kind of bad-boy rebellion for my mother, I guess, since she was from an old mainline Philadelphia family.”

“So what happened?”

“She was really young, barely twenty, and probably really scared. Her family had basically disowned her for having a baby without a husband, and she was pretty lost in Tarpon Springs. No job, a baby, no family. I give her credit for lasting as long as she did.”

“What did she do?”

“Her parents eventually came down to get her, but they didn’t want the whole package.”

She sucked in a breath. “They didn’t want you?”

“You’d have to understand what kind of people they were.”

“Scum of the earth?”

His laugh was dry. “Proper. Very proper. They suggested adoption but she didn’t want to completely lose touch with me, and eventually some friends of my father stepped in and offered to take me. They didn’t actually adopt me, but they raised me. Her parents sent money.” At her incredulous look, he added, “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She’s fine. She’s had a good life,” he said quietly. “She met a guy and got married, and that time, she got it right. He was perfect for her-big money, big family.”

“Are you in touch with her?”

“Not much. She has other kids, all grown.”

“So what was that family like who took you in?”

“The Demakos family? Very poor. The father lived off the water, paycheck to paycheck. He needed every dime that my mother’s father sent.”

“Other kids?”

“One. Alix. He was…” God, how did he describe Alix? “Crazy, impulsive, and… really great to grow up with.”

“That sounds an awful lot like my sister,” she said, giving him a squeeze. “Are you older, younger? Close?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.” She came all the way around him then, getting between him and the console, blocking the western view with her pretty face and sympathetic eyes and toomany personal questions. “What happened to him?”

And this would be the answer to her second question-why he left the SEALs. “He was killed in a training mission.”

“Was he a SEAL, too?”

His jaw clenched and he leaned back, focusing on those amber gold eyes. “Yes. We went through training together.”

“So you were there when he died?”

If he had been, Alix wouldn’t have died. “Not exactly. You know, you are blocking my view. Would you mind moving?”

“One more question.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her to the side. “No more questions. I want to find our boat.” He pulled the throttle back, looking from side to side, now that they’d traveled about ten more miles. Nothing.

“One more. How’d you learn to steal things like you do?”

For a moment, he considered telling her the truth.

Alix taught me how to take everything that wasn’t nailed down, and I got really good at it. So good that I was one of the best thieves in the country. You name it, I’ve stolen it. Right out of your precious museums.

That’d burst her hero-worship bubble in a hurry. And cool the look of lust in her eyes, and shut that sweet little mouth he imagined kissing every time she got close.

“It’s just a talent I have,” he finally said.

She wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, moving between his thighs, her chest just below his chin as he sat and she stood. “It’s a talent that’s come in handy this week.”