Page 174 of Her Reluctant Hero
Chapter Seventeen
Linda swayed for a moment, her eyes bright with surprise, her hands closing over her chest. Between her fingers, blood blossomed. Mallory watched with horror as the girl toppled and fell beneath the waves. Adrian’s anguished cry carried across the water. Mallory’s muscles went limp as she followed the movement of Smoller’s arm lowering the gun.
Mallory’s throat closed in panic, her breath escaping in whimpers. He’d killed Linda for no reason but to teach Adrian a lesson, to teach both of them a lesson. That he was in charge and he’d brook no rebellion. The man she’d known before had been hard, determined, but never capable of murder.
Ears ringing from the gunshot and her own pounding heart, she swung her gaze to Adrian as she allowed Smoller to support her weight on one arm. Her husband still wore his gear, his attention on the water where Linda had gone in, but when he moved toward the edge, Smoller, who’d obviously been watching him too, pressed the gun to Mallory’s head.
“Don’t even think it, Reeves.”
Adrian whirled, his eyes wild as he pled with the man holding her. “Jesus, Smoller. Jesus! She was just a girl, no threat to you.”
“And no use to me, either. Easily replaceable.” He stroked the gun down Mallory’s cheek and she shuddered with revulsion and pain. Adrian’s expression was hard as he took in the message.
“Are you ready to dive with me, sweetheart? I’m sure you’ll be perfectly biddable.”
Terrified, she looked over at Adrian, but his gaze had returned to the water where Linda had gone in. She could see the responsibility weighing on him. If he hadn’t been defiant, if he hadn’t brought her here…
“Time to go,” Smoller said. “Would you like a suit this time?”
Adrian’s muscles quivered with tension and fear from the moment Mallory disappeared underwater. He’d seen the rage in her eyes over Linda’s murder, and she was descending with the murderer. He was helpless; he couldn’t dive again and risk the bends—then he’d be no good to anyone. He had to hope that Mallory had more sense than to act on her anger—she’d always had more control than him—that she now knew what Smoller was capable of.
Hell, he’d known Smoller was a son of a bitch, but he’d never suspected he could murder someone for greed. Once again Adrian searched the surface of the water for Linda. She’d been just a girl, a girl he’d been responsible for, and now she was dead.
If Mallory died too, he didn’t want to go on living.
Mallory scanned for sight of Linda’s body as she descended. The girl had been wearing her dive belt, so she probably wouldn’t surface for some time, if at all. The creatures of the sea could be brutal.
Like the man ahead of her. They were in more trouble than she’d realized.
Anger and fear made her tremble as she swam alongside the two men who accompanied them. She didn’t think they’d kill her. He wouldn’t risk hurting her here, where it couldn’t do as much damage to Adrian.
Nonetheless, she was having trouble breathing, her throat tight, as if the arteries in her throat had expanded to accommodate the adrenaline racing through her body. Her movements were jerky and slow, every muscle in her body tensed to the point of snapping. She didn’t know how she’d reach the bottom, much less gather the treasure he wanted.
Mallory shoveled as much treasure as she could into the baskets, barely paying attention to the ancient artifacts that passed through her fingers. She needed to keep alert, had to watch him, to see if she could read him, know what he wanted ahead of time.
She couldn’t imagine how Valentine could hate Adrian so much. Why did he want to destroy him, or was that just a side effect of his greed? She must have missed the animosity when they’d worked together, or even afterward, when he’d befriended her. As she dug, she flipped through her memories, found nothing that would point to them all ending up in this situation together.
“Good haul,” Smoller said when they surfaced.
Her heart clenched. She’d seen ceramic incense burners, parts of ceramic pots, enameled crucifixes and bronze utensils hauled up in the basket. She would love to get a look at the carvings, study what they said, but she was unlikely to ever have a chance. She was here for her diving ability, not her language. None of what they’d discovered today was important to him.
For the first time she could understand the anger Adrian had felt those years ago in Tunisia. At least no one had died on that excavation.
“As a reward, you and I will have a special dinner to celebrate.” He turned, making sure Adrian heard that, before he climbed onto the barge and headed for his yacht.
Mallory didn’t want to think of the time she’d have to spend with Valentine over dinner. She would have to sit face to face with the man who’d murdered Linda in cold blood. She was going to choke on her food.
And then he was on deck, carrying a bottle of wine and a picnic basket as if he’d come courting.
She didn’t acknowledge him as he set out the dinner, popped the cork on the wine, all under the watchful eye of his hired muscle. She did note that he didn’t provide cutting utensils for the meal of fish and salad.
“To a productive day,” Smoller said, saluting her with his glass.
Was he even capable of reasoning with? She’d seen him kill today, with no regret. He wasn’t going to let them walk away unless she could find his humanity.
“The find will be worth a lot more if you catalogue it properly,” she began, toying with the lettuce of her salad. “I’ve seen some priceless items tossed into the basket like bargains at the dollar store. Each of those things could bring you the money you’re looking for, and you’d have the bonus of discovering a Mediterranean ship in the Caribbean. You could live off the money for the rest of your life.”
He sat back and considered her. “Is that what you and Adrian had planned to do?”
