Page 105 of Her Reluctant Hero
Not something she was going to think about now. She kicked harder and pulled alongside Adrian. He turned to look at her, and his eyes crinkled a little behind his mask, smiling encouragement. Of all the signals they’d developed in their years together, that one pierced her heart. Still lost in that memory, she almost missed his gesture as he pointed toward the ocean floor.
There it was, sprawled beneath them. Enough of a hull remained that she could see oar ports, badly eroded. How deep had this been buried before the hurricane uncovered it?
She moved closer but Adrian caught her arm and pointed. A swirl from her fin had sent up a flurry of splinters where she hadn’t noticed the wood was exposed. Her very movement could disintegrate the hull if she wasn’t careful. Chastened, she nodded and took the end of the rubber sheet he handed her. Her excitement had overwhelmed her sense of priorities. She couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t let herself become invested. She was going home.
Working together in a familiar pattern, they covered the exposed hull, swam about to see if any more remained uncovered, then weighed the sheet down with sand before Adrian motioned to his dive watch.
Time to go up, back to real life.
They swam to the guideline, marked with decompression stops. She’d forgotten what a stickler Adrian was for diving by the tables. Out here, with such a small group, that would be more important than ever. Regret flashed through her as she realized this was her only dive on this site, or probably ever again.
The sadness of the thought stunned her. She’d been ready to give this up forever. Now, with the taste of oxygen in her mouth and blue water embracing her, she wasn’t so sure. She hated uncertainty.
Adrian grabbed her arm, startling her. She looked into his eyes behind the mask and saw the exaggerated crease of his brow. She signaled that she was okay, but he continued to watch her closely.
Strange how they could read each other’s emotions so well after all this time.
They surfaced and he stripped off his mask. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Are you cold? Is it the suit? Your oxygen?”
Amused, she paddled out of his reach when he tried to look at her gauges. “I’m fine. I’m just—thanks for letting me see it.”
He looked at her blankly. She swam past him and grabbed on to the barge’s ladder. Impulsively, she reached over and kissed his cheek, trying not to think about the stubble under her lips, about the surprise in his eyes. About how she would never again offer such a casual gesture to the man she’d loved. “Thanks.”
Heart pounding at her own recklessness, eager to make her escape after the whim, she reached up to Toney and Dr. Vigil who waited to bring her out of the water.
“Your nose is bleeding,” Jacob said in alarm, motioning to her face as Adrian hauled himself onto the platform.
She lifted a finger to her nose and drew it away to find it bright with blood.
Adrian sat heavily on the bench beside her and swore. His tone changed as he stripped off his gloves and pinched the bridge of her nose with his waterlogged fingers. “I’ve got it.”
She’d forgotten that she always had nosebleeds when she surfaced. She’d always taken care of them herself. Why was he helping her out now?
“Did you come up too fast?” Jacob asked sharply, handing Adrian a towel. He took it and dabbed the rough cloth under her nose.
“No, this is usual for her,” Dr. Vigil said, not hovering like the rest.
She was aware now of Adrian’s leg pressed along hers, his arm against her breast. She brushed his hand away to pinch her own nose, to hold the towel herself. He took the hint and moved aside. When she opened her eyes, she could just see the tops of his bare shoulders as he stripped out of his wetsuit.
“What did you see?” Dr. Vigil asked.
“Most of the bow, the port side, buried under a bunch of sand. This is going to be one hell of an excavation.”
But Adrian’s tone wasn’t as excited as she expected. He sounded like a man with too much responsibility weighing him down.
The project was huge. Adrian’s responsibility meant he was under incredible amounts of pressure, most of it from himself. The Adrian she knew would handle it or die trying.
She dropped the towel to her side and stood to unzip her wetsuit, remembering too late that she only wore her T-shirt and panties, both now wet and clinging to her. Four sets of male eyes focused on her. Adrian stepped in front of her, his back to her.
“There’s an extra T-shirt in that bag there,” he said gruffly, his burr a little heavier than usual. “Gentlemen?”
Adrian made sure the other men faced the other way. He hoped to hell they weren’t picturing her as clearly as he was. Hell, what had she been thinking? He could see her lacy bra, her erect nipples through the thin fabric of her T-shirt, and could see even more through the sexy little panties. His body responded to the sight, to the familiarity. What the hell was she doing wearing underwear like that out here anyway?
He turned when she cleared her throat. She wore his old, limp college shirt and finger combed her loosened hair. She looked so young, like the girl he’d fallen in love with.
He picked up the bloody towel, wiped some crusty blood from her upper lip. Even now he hated to see her hurting, and she was, beyond the nosebleed. It went deeper than that, and she wouldn’t tell him. He wasn’t that person for her anymore.
“It’s stopped now, I think,” he said, stepping back.
