Going Deep (Divemasters Book 2) (7 page)

S
abine had massively underestimated Miguel
. Though she considered herself a seasoned diver, he took things to another level. A true expert, he was mesmerizing to watch, or might have been if she wasn’t attempting to focus on the job at hand. All three divemasters had complimented her proficiency after joining them beneath the surface at one time or another recently. She had nothing on them.

In addition to his aptitude with the equipment, constant vigilance for safety issues, effortless buoyancy control, and eyes as sharp as a shark’s for spotting creatures or coral specimens she’d have zipped right past underwater, Miguel had stamina that would put that guy who had swum across the Adriatic Sea without flippers to shame.

He dove with her every morning, leading two- or three-tank collecting expeditions that crisscrossed the reef inside the horseshoe of the Molokini Crater, leaving no stone or coral head unturned. It didn’t matter what the conditions were like, or how tired he might have been from swimming like a fish—a gorgeous, sleek, and powerful fish—assisting her in the lab every afternoon and evening, then fucking her damn near into a coma each night.

Sabine had never been as exhausted, or as sated, as she was right then.

If they had only made even a hint of progress toward locating Heinrich’s mysterious cure, she would be in heaven. Instead, guilt corroded her guts when her laptop made the triple-chirp associated with an incoming call on her video chat software.

Only one person used it these days.

And Sabine had been ducking those notifications for a while.

“Want me to answer that for you?” Miguel asked as he spied her gloved hands and the latest concoction she was about to inject into a cancerous tissue specimen. If she introduced any contaminants during the process, she could invalidate her test, assuming that this one would be any more fruitful than the thousands of others she’d prepared over the past two weeks.

“Nah. I’ll call her back some other time.” She looked at her hands, unable to meet his gaze.

“Is this Heinrich’s wife?” He peered at the icon on her screen.

Sabine nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

“Are you dodging her?” he asked.

She lifted a single shoulder.

That was all it took. Miguel hit connect even as she cried out, “Don’t!”

“I knew you were avoiding me.” Marta
tsked
, clearly having heard her shout. “Not like you. Especially since you’re the only family I have left in the world, girl.”

Toss another guilt log on the fire, Sabine thought. Even worse, Banks had peeked into the laboratory, probably because he’d heard her holler, too.

Miguel shocked her by coming to her defense. He disarmed Marta with a wave and one of the blinding full-on smiles he usually reserved for Sabine. “Hello Mrs. Geld. I’m so sorry for your loss. Please understand that
our
girl is hurting, too. Although we both know she shouldn’t, she feels like crap because we haven’t had any luck with her research yet.”

Was it that obvious? She thought she’d given her best to Miguel, genuinely enjoying their time together, and feeling even shittier because of it. How could she find something to be so damn happy about when Marta’s world had fallen apart? It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right.

“
Our
girl?
Ich glaub mein Schwein pfeift!
Who is this handsome
boy
, Sabine?” Marta asked with a slightly harsher than normal German accent. The woman was direct, something Sabine usually appreciated. Right now, though, she wished she wasn’t such an open book. How could she explain when she didn’t know where she and Miguel stood herself?

The sex was great. Like, better than Marta’s infamous black forest cake and four birthdays rolled into one. But when her time here was over, that would go away, too. They hadn’t made each other any promises. It would be pointless, as they each would go their own way to keep saving the world with the tools they had. Their paths had crossed temporarily. Eventually they would diverge again.

Sabine opened her mouth but closed it again when Miguel responded for her. “My name is Miguel Torres. I’m a divemaster here. Your husband was a great influence on me when I was younger. A friend, and an inspiration.”

“I knew it!” Marta softened immediately, her suggestion of a frown perking up into a smile. “I hope you don’t mind that I poked around about the co-owners of the ship my Sabine would be spending her time on. I read your bio and the articles that have been circulating about you and your partners since the formation of the Divemaster Project. About where you’re from, how you’re self-made, and your impressive goals. Your name matched and I could see the resemblance to the photo Heinrich had of the two of you. After all this time, I hoped it might really be you. My husband was a good judge of character, son. He talked about you often. Remembered you fondly.”

Afraid the moisture gathering in her eyes might leak out and ruin her work, Sabine finished up what she had been doing, then set the timer. When it went off, she should be able to detect some progress,
if
the solution she’d prepped and infused made any difference whatsoever. She peeled off her gloves then approached her laptop warily, as if it were a stonefish out to stab her with its poisonous spikes.

Having her two worlds collide like this made it all too real.

Miguel wasn’t a figment of her imagination, some dream concocted by her subconscious to help her make it through one of the roughest parts of her life. He was real. Here. With her. But he wouldn’t always be. Somehow, having Marta meet him—know that he existed—would make the loss more profound once he was no longer part of her life.

Banks edged closer, and Tosin joined them, too. They must have looked ridiculous, crunched together in front of the screen. Marta was magnetic like that, though. She drew people in, and made them listen.

“That means a lot. Thank you.” Miguel put his arm around Sabine, tucking her against his heat and strength. Subconsciously, she toyed with his necklace, which became more precious to her every day. Though she should have pulled away, stood on her own, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Not when she had to admit her failures to the one person who cared the most about what she was supposed to be concentrating on here. Sabine blurted, “I haven’t found anything, Marta. I’m sorry. We’re almost out of samples, too. I thought I knew what to look for, but…”

She held her hands out, empty palms up, then dropped them to her sides again.

“I wasn’t calling for a progress report,” Marta told her. “I needed to see how you’re doing. That’s all. I’m worried about how you’re handling everything. And…I miss you.”

If she wasn’t going to make a discovery here, Sabine should at least have been by Marta’s side.

Her stomach ached when she considered how many ways in which she was letting the other woman, and Heinrich, down. He’d have wanted her to look after his wife, wouldn’t he?

“Hey, you might not have found the cure
yet
.” Tosin’s optimism bolstered her spirits a little. “But at least you got a boyfriend out of the deal.”

“Oh, really?” Marta leaned closer to the screen, as if she could judge whether Miguel was worthy or not from those extra couple of inches.

Sabine didn’t respond and instead glanced away at the lovely wooden deck and her bare toes, which curled against it.

“Ashamed of me,
lindeza
?” Miguel asked softly. He lifted her chin so she had no choice but to meet his piercing stare.

Could she keep making things worse? At least she seemed adept at that. Her fingers flew again to the necklace he’d given her, and she thought of the lost boy still buried deep within him. The one who’d been abandoned and never known how precious he was to those who loved him. “Of course not.”

“It’s okay to find happiness for yourself, Sabine,” Marta assured her. “More than any scientific work, Heinrich would have been glad to see that.”

What else was the woman going to say? That didn’t make it okay.

Her affair with Miguel was irresponsible at best.

Sabine began to doubt herself. She wondered if she’d missed something because she’d been spending too much time with him instead of burning the midnight oil down here in the laboratory. Worse, maybe she’d screwed something up since some part of her didn’t want to find the cure, because then she would have to leave.

Leave the
Divemaster
.

Leave her new friends.

Leave Miguel—the only man who’d ever made her wonder if she could do without him in a pathetically short amount of time.

In the background, Marta was still trying to reassure her, talking about enjoying her stay in Hawaii as much as possible, and how incredible the
Divemaster
had looked in the photos and stories she’d Googled.

“We’d love to have you onboard to see her for yourself sometime,” Banks told Marta. Tosin and Miguel grinned simultaneously. They poked Banks out of the viewable range of the camera.

Sabine’s eyes grew wide as she looked between Banks and her surrogate mother. It was nearly impossible to conceive of Marta with any man besides Heinrich. Except when she considered it objectively…they were about the same age. Both incredible people, who thrived on supporting those around them.

Maybe, someday, Marta would be ready to share her life with someone else.

A man like Banks would be an excellent choice, really.

And that felt like a betrayal.

Confused and hurting, Sabine couldn’t take anymore.

Overwhelmed, she rasped, “Marta, I’m not feeling so good. It’s been a long day, would you mind—”

“I’m going now. I just needed to hear your voice. To see you for myself. Let that boy take good care of you, understand?” Marta wagged her finger.

When had Sabine stopped being able to fend for herself? Her independent streak objected, strongly. She needed to be alone for a while. The
Divemaster
was enormous, but it was still a ship. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“I love you,” Sabine whispered to Marta, terrified she might bawl if they didn’t disconnect soon.

“I love you, too. Call me next time. When you’re ready.” With that, she was gone.

Staring at the blackened screen, Sabine didn’t know which was worse—standing in front of Marta, facing deserved judgment that never came, or the absence of another important person from her life.

When Miguel put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, she snapped. She shrugged out of his hold and pivoted on her heel, whipping around to face him.

Whatever unwise words were about to launch from her tongue froze when her timer went off.

She dashed to her workstation, scooped up her specimen, and slid it under the microscope.

If anything, the cancerous tissue appeared to be thriving instead of withering.

“Fuck!” She slapped her hands on the solid surface of the counter hard enough to make her wrists ache for days. In her peripheral vision, she saw Tosin and Banks slip from the lab, leaving her alone with Miguel. Probably for the best.

“You’re even beautiful when you’re throwing a tantrum,” he said in an attempt to get her to laugh.

It didn’t work.

“How long can we keep doing this?” She slashed a red marker through the latest on the list of eliminated specimens, then threw her notebook against the wall. “It’s pointless!”

Sabine cringed as the pages fluttered then crumpled as it dropped to the ground.

“Are you objecting to the failed experiments or me fucking you so well every night that you hope you never find what you’re looking for?” Miguel saw more than she gave him credit for sometimes.

“You arrogant bastard!” She wished she hadn’t already chucked her pad or she would have flung it at his big head instead.

Instead of responding, he stalked closer, invading her space when all she wanted was to put some distance between them. She wasn’t proud of herself, but she reached forward and shoved him, placing her palms flat against his chest as she leaned into the gesture.

Miguel didn’t budge.

He smiled wolfishly then trapped her, his long fingers encircling her wrists. “Maybe. I’ve been holding out on you, though. Because you’re twisting me up, too,
lindeza
. Enough is enough. I know what you need.”

“To kick you in the balls?” She thrashed, not that it did her any good.

“You might want to watch that mouth of yours.” He backed her against the wall then leaned in so all she could see was the compelling blue of his eyes. “It could get you in trouble tonight.”

Why did his bullying turn her on? Despite his pseudo-threats, she was certain he was no risk to her. At least not to parts other than her heart, which seemed to forget more and more every day what her purpose onboard the
Divemaster
was supposed to be.

“Fuck this. I know what
we
need.” Miguel didn’t give her a chance to protest. He plucked her from the laboratory floor and tossed her over his shoulder as easily as if she was one of the tanks he hefted around day in and day out…not that she’d studied his form while he did it. “I have something to show you.”

“Put me down.” She shoved futilely at his back, her slaps utterly ineffectual.

The crack of his palm landing on her ass startled her more than the zing of sensation that raced from her cheek up her spine. She went dead still, wondering if he’d really just spanked her.

Before she could ask, or freak out, or surrender to the part of her that kind of liked it, he did it again. Then a third time.

“If you want to find out what’s behind that black door in the middle of our hallway, you’ll keep quiet and stop fighting me.” Despite her instincts, which encouraged her to struggle, she went limp in his grasp. Admittedly, it felt better to rest on him than to try to break free.

Curiosity had always been both her biggest asset and her greatest downfall.

“Good girl,” Miguel purred. “That’s right. Let me make us both feel better.”