The Reef by Nora Roberts Page B

“Since I hunted with my old man and my brother. ’Course once we get it all up, I’m going to have to kill hoss here.” Buck grinned as he lowered his mask into place. “Figure on beating him to death with his own flippers.”
    “I’m on to you, Buck.” Ray slipped over the side. “I’ve already decided to smother you with a boat cushion. The treasure’s mine.” He let out a wild, evil laugh. “Mine, do you hear? All mine.” Rolling his eyes madly, Ray plugged in his mouthpiece and did a surface dive.
    “I’m after you, hoss. Going to run him through with a coal shovel,” Buck promised and splashed into the water.
    “They’re crazy,” Tate decided. “Like a couple of bad little boys playing hooky.” She turned to grin at Matthew. “I’ve never seen Dad have so much fun.”
    “Buck’s not this loose unless he’s got a quart of whiskey in him.”
    “It’s not just the treasure.” She held out a hand so that he would join her at the rail.
    “No, I guess it’s not.” Looking out over the water, Matthew linked his fingers with hers. “But it helps.”
    She leaned her head on his shoulder and chuckled. “It doesn’t hurt. But they’d have clicked without it. So wouldwe.” She turned her head so that her lips could graze his jaw. “We’d have found each other, Matthew. We were supposed to.”
    “Like we were supposed to find the Marguerite. ”
    “No.” She turned into his arms. “Like this.”
    Her lips were warm and soft. Irresistible. He could feel himself sinking into them, slowly, weightlessly, until he was steeped in the seduction that was Tate. She seemed to surround him, tastes and scents and flavors so unique he would have recognized them, recognized her, if he’d been deaf, dumb and blind.
    There had never been another woman who could twist his system into such shivering, slippery knots with one quiet kiss. He wanted her so desperately it terrified him.
    And when she drew away, her eyes dreamy, her lips curved, he knew she had no notion of his need, his desperation or his terror.
    “What’s wrong?” Tate lifted a hand to his cheek. “You look so serious.”
    “No. Nothing.” Pull yourself together, Lassiter. She’s not ready for what’s running through your mind. With an effort, he smiled. “I was just thinking it’s too bad.”
    “What is?”
    “That after Buck takes care of Ray, I’ll have to get rid of you.”
    “Oh.” Willing to play, she tilted her head. “And just how do you propose to do that?”
    “I figured I’d just strangle you.” He circled her throat with his hand. “Then toss you overboard. We’re going to keep Marla, though. Chain her to the stove. A man’s gotta eat.”
    “Very practical of you. Of course, that only works if I don’t get you first.” She wiggled her brows, then dug her fingers into his ribs.
    Helpless laughter buckled his knees. He made a weak grab, but she was darting away. By the time he’d gotten his breath back, she was around the starboard side of the deckhouse.
    “Want to play rough?” He charged the port side to cut her off. He’d nearly made the bow when he saw her, andthe bucket. Before he could dodge, she’d heaved the load of cool seawater.
    While he choked and dripped, she held her sides. But when he’d blinked the stinging water out of his eyes, she saw their intent. With a shriek, she went into full retreat.
    Her only mistake was in dropping the bucket.
    Marla came out of the deckhouse, where she’d been cleaning cob coins, and ran headlong into Tate.
    “Goodness. Is there a war?”
    “Mom.” Giddy with laughter, Tate ducked behind her mother just as Matthew rounded the cabin, armed with a freshly loaded bucket.
    He skidded to a halt. “You’d better stand aside, Marla. This could get messy.”
    Choking with laughter, Tate wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, using her ruthlessly as a shield. “She’s not going anywhere.”
    “Now, children.” Marla patted Tate’s hand.