In Deep Waters Read Free

he hadn't.
    He'd given her plenty of time to dry off, change clothes and unpack. He'd used the time to chill himself. He wasn't proud of his behavior on deck, but he'd been caught off guard.
    Kayla Waterton wasn't what Ben had expected. That bothered him. Annoyed him. Frustrated him, too.
    And he'd taken it out on her.
    Real smart, Mendoza.
    Some pro he'd turned out to be. But he couldn't help himself.
    It was bad enough the museum had to send anyone out here in the first place. A knife in the back. Xmarks Explorers had been good enough to partner with when no one else wanted to chase down the legendary lost pirate ship. But now, after he'd made all the preparations and done all the work, they wanted to toss a ringer into the act. And not any ringer, a total looker who belonged on a catwalk and made men lose sight of what was important--their goals.
    Ben Mendoza, meet your worst nightmare -- Kayla Waterton.
    Bulky life jacket aside, she'd stood on the gangplank looking more like a sea nymph than a maritime historian. By definition, a historian should have her hair pulled back into a tight bun, her body disguised by shapeless, gray, nonfeminine clothing and her eyes hidden behind a pair of bottle-thick glasses. He could have lived with that sort of woman on his ship. His crew, too. She would have been a pain, but she wouldn't have been a distraction.
    Unlike Kayla. She was a distraction the size of the Titanic -sinking iceberg, and twice as dangerous.
    Her long blond hair shimmered even with the overcast skies. Hair like hers was supposed to be worn loose-- brushing the middle of her back or a man's chest. Contorting her hair into a tight bun would constitute a criminal act.
    And those eyes...an intriguing blend of green and gray, a mixture of colors from the sea and sky. Staring into her eyes, he'd felt a moment of recognition, a sense of deja vu. A familiar gnawing in his gut made him realize why. Kayla had a dreamy quality in her eyes. Similar to his father and his ex-wife.
    The appreciative sighs and catcalls from his crew had echoed the jolt of attraction shooting through Ben the nanosecond he saw her.
    But Ben had no room in his life for another good-looking, starry-eyed dreamer to mess up his hard work and his plans. He had a ship to find. He wasn't about to fail--he couldn't afford to. The crew and Madison were counting on him to deliver. He wasn't going to blow this. Or let anyone else blow it for him.
    Kayla Waterton had to go.
    The investors and the Museum of Maritime History wanted her here. They were co-sponsors of the expedition and held the purse strings, so he wouldn't go against their wishes. But now that she'd arrived, all Ben had to do was make her decide to leave.
    An idea formed. A bit devious, but she was the one who didn't belong here. She was the one who was going to get in their way.
    Life on a salvage ship might be adventurous, romantic to some. But the reality was a far cry from images of opening a chest full of gold and jewels. A middle-of-the-night survey assignment, and Kayla would be begging to go back to the comfortable confines of her ivory-tower world.
    Ben smiled. He'd make her feel like one of the crew, put her to work and watch disillusionment take over. The sooner she left his ship, the sooner he and the crew could concentrate on finding the Izzy.
    He knocked. The lock bolt clicked after a few seconds and the door opened. At least she followed instructions.
    Kayla stared at him. Silence stretched between them like the calm before the storm.
    "Do you need anything?" he asked finally.
    "No."
    She wasn't going to make this easy for him. Okay. He deserved it. "About what happened earlier..."
    She'd changed into a pair of well-worn jeans and a white shirt. Damn, she looked good. Almost as good dry as she had wet.
    He leaned against the doorjamb. "I was--"
    "A jerk."
    He shifted his weight. "That's one way to put it."
    "A tyrant."
    "That's another." Apologizing wasn't his strong suit. Nor was