Night Diver: A Novel by Elizabeth Lowell Page B

United Kingdom.”
    “We’re not competition. We’re a client.”
    “Not the way Grandpa sees it. Remember, it used to be that those wrecks down there were his. He just hadn’t gotten around to pulling up the gold yet.”
    “Or hadn’t found it,” Holden pointed out.
    “Academic,” she said with a wave of her hand. “For him, finding was just a matter of time, work, and luck, and he has the luck of the Irish.” A shadow darkened her eyes, a reminder that luck sometimes ran out. “After he found gold, he worked hard, in case the sea changed her mind about letting him have access to the treasure.”
    With a few smooth motions, Holden pulled his shirt on. He needed something to hide the erection that kept growing despite his attempts to reason with it.
    Kate both regretted and approved his action. Seeing just how much the man she wanted also wanted her was eroding what little control she had over her wandering eyes. The feeling was unsettling, rather like her first deep dives—excitement, nerves, fascination, exhilaration, every bit of her alive.
    Just how alive was something she shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Her nipples were tight and tingly, hungry for touch.
    Rather desperately, she looked for a distraction and spotted his computer. Though the screen was dark now, she remembered what she had seen when she first looked into the room.
    “Why do you have Cartomancy on your computer?” she asked.
    Holden let out a careful breath, trying to lower the sexual tension in his body—and in the bedroom.
    “Not many people would recognize the program,” he said. His voice was too deep, too husky, almost a growl, but he ignored it as he was trying to ignore the swelling tightness of his body.
    “Not many people had my childhood,” she pointed out, her eyes fixed on the screen because it was the safest thing in the room to look at. “Cartomancy was the standard for reading and interpreting ESRI maps back when Grandpa first had computers on the boat because Dad badgered him into it.” Her eyes softened with amused memory. “Then Dad had custom software modules written up to directly map live radar and sonar results into the software in real time, so that any readings taken on the Golden Bough could be marked up and added to permanent records seamlessly. Of course, Grandpa thought it was foolish, expensive bunk.”
    Holden grabbed the conversation like the lifeline it was, pulling himself out of the dangerous sexual currents rushing between Kate and himself. “Cartomancy was a few versions ago. Some wags dubbed the new version Cartocracy. The older version is still the standard for marking underwater data sets.”
    “So you have no problem reading and understanding Golden Bough ’s digital logs.”
    “If they were filed logically, no, I’d have no problem. Apparently there was a change in dive center operators a week or so ago. Volkert hasn’t begun to clean up the mess left by his predecessor. Or predecessors. The file on wages only lists positions, not individual names.”
    “At the rates Larry is paying,” she said, “you have to expect a high turnover.”
    “Inefficient.”
    “But cheap. You get what you pay for. If the mess Volkert is facing is anything like the snarl I’m working on, my sympathies to one and all. Divers are terrible businessmen.”
    “That’s why the smart ones hire someone to take care of all the fiddly details,” Holden said.
    “Don’t look at me,” she said, shaking her head. “Hiring implies payment for work. I’m here on vacation.”
    He watched her with changeable eyes, reminding her that dragons were reputed to be as intelligent as they were lethal.
    Lord, what extraordinary eyes. Hypnotic.
    Sexy.
    Too bad that I’m not really here on vacation. He would be one wild fling, a lifetime of hot memories to curl up with on cold nights.
    “Vacation?” His voice was deep—and deeply skeptical. “Why would a woman who doesn’t care for the ocean come to an