Page 82 of The SEAL's Duchess
“Fine. Let’s go.” Ryder would wait at that dock until the world froze over if he had to.
And when Ivy stepped off that boat—when, not if—she was never walking into danger alone again.
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The supply boatslammed against the platform, the impact making Ivy’s teeth throb. Icy spray hit her face and diesel fumes clogged her throat. She clung to the railing as the deck heaved, slick with seawater and ice.
The Vega loomed overhead—more beast than structure. Machinery roared deep in its guts as the wind pushed through the lattice of steel as if trying to warn her back. Up close, it wasn’t the sleek operation from the brochures—it was brutal and ugly, built for survival, not show.
She joined the line for the gangway as workers disembarked. A deckhand manned the gangway, the wind tugging at his waterproofs. Mid-sixties, his face was a map of hard winters and physical work, every line carved by salt and strain.
He raised his hand. “Hold up princess. Let’s see your clearance.”
"I'm Ivy Lambourne. I'm here to see Jack Barnes."
He snorted. "This isn't a visitor center, lady."
Ivy drew out her passport and business card. “My family’s financing the BlackRock investment in this rig. I have every rightto see what we’re investing in.” She held his gaze. “Try not to choke on it.”
His brows rose, just a flicker—but it was enough. She’d landed the hit. He pulled out a radio, muttering into it while eyeing her tailored coat and heeled boots.
A manager arrived within two minutes, clipboard in hand, irritation plain despite his unruly beard. He took one look at her credentials and the irritation transformed into something more careful.
“Fine,” he said at last. “But you’ll need proper gear—helmet, goggles, steel-toed boots if we’ve got your size.” He jerked his head to the grimy gangway-keeper. “Winston here will take you to Barnes.”
He threw an aside to Winston. “Make sure she’s on that return boat. This isn’t a hotel.”
Winston grunted and turned without waiting to see if she followed. He tramped across the deck and halted at a yellow store room where he dug out pieces of safety equipment and tossed them at Ivy.
The kit was huge, designed for men twice her size. Ivy had to strap the helmet tight to stop it slipping over her eyes. The boots were too large, but she managed with help of spare odd socks from an abandoned heap in a corner.
Okay, you’ve done harder things than this, Ivy.
She set her jaw and adjusted the helmet one final time.
Winston looked her up and down, then satisfied, led her onto the main deck, where the noise was physical against her skin. Generators roared, metal clanged against metal, and somewhere in the distance someone was operating engines that screeched and whined. The air tasted of hot metal and salt, with an underlying chemical tang that made her want to breathe through her mouth.
Workers swerved, barely sparing her a glance. She was clearly out of place in her Sloane Street coat beneath the safety vest. Winston stopped near what looked like a control station, checking something on his clipboard.
“Barnes should be in the engineering office. Danny!”
He waved over a wiry man in grease-stained coveralls. “Take Miss Lambourne to Engineering—and make sure she doesn’t fall overboard.”
“On it.” Danny adjusted his round glasses, leaving a smear of grease on the lens. “Try not to trip, princess.”
Ivy gave him a tight smile. “I’ll do my best not to ruin your day.”
They headed inside through a heavy metal door that clanged shut behind them, cutting off some of the noise. The interior corridors were narrow, lit by harsh fluorescent lights that buzzed and flickered intermittently. Pipes ran along the ceiling, labeled with codes she didn't understand, and the floor vibrated constantly.
The engineering office was stark and functional—two metal desks, empty chairs, computer screens glowing with blue light.
And it was empty.
No Jack.
File cabinets lined one wall, and a large map was tacked to the wall showing the Vega’s layout in intimidating detail.
Danny checked a logbook on one of the desks, running a dirty fingernail down a list of names and locations. "Looks like Barnes went down to Leg C for pressure valve maintenance. Should be back soon."
