Reality mixed with fantasy in her fogged brain. She couldn't remember. What the hell had happened last night?
She looked out toward the calm turquoise sea.
The last thing she remembered was swimming out there, looking for something. Then the sharp pain in her side and slipping under the water. How had she ended up here?
She touched the spot on her side that had hurt so badly she couldn't stay afloat last night. A bit tender, but the pain was gone. How odd.
After a quick shower back at her bungalow, she trekked over to the hotel to pick up some supplies. Morgan had equipped her with a golf cart to ride back and forth from one side of the island to the other. Although the path was bumpy, the ride didn't take much time at all. Besides, it gave her an opportunity to think about the night before.
Had she dreamed the warm mouth kissing oxygen into her lungs? The strong hands supporting her and taking her pain away? And why had it all seemed so familiar, so comforting, as if she'd finally found home?
Stupid dream. She hated the ones that lingered in her memories well into the next day.
And this one went from underwater lifesaving to rip-roaring on the beach masturbation. Maybe she was tense. Although the orgasm she'd awakened to certainly should ease some of her stress.
The hotel was busy this morning. Isabelle shook her head at couples sharing intimate kisses and touches right in front of everyone else.
"I hope all this doesn't bother you."
Isabelle turned at the sound of Morgan Marino's soft voice and smiled. The gorgeous redhead looked perfectly outfitted in her snug tropical dress complete with hibiscus in her hair. "Not at all. I'm just not used to it."
Jealous was more like it. Had she ever had a man who wanted her so much he didn't care where or when he touched and kissed her?
Easy answer. No.
A very attractive, dark-haired man peered over Morgan's shoulder and said, "You'll get used to it, trust me. Eventually you won't notice anyone around here or what they're doing."
Morgan smiled and caressed the man's cheek. "Dr. Isabelle King, this is my husband, Tony Marino."
Isabelle shook Tony's hand and smiled. "I hear you and Morgan just returned from your honeymoon. Congratulations."
"Thanks." Tony kissed his wife's cheek. "We had a great time but Morgan doesn't like to leave the resort for too long, so we had to hustle back."
Isabelle looked over at the woman. "It's tough when work gets in the way of your personal life, isn't it?" Not that she would know about that, since she had no personal life.
"It's okay. We've been on a constant honeymoon for the past six months, anyway."
"Yeah, and I had to drag her off the island just to get her to marry me. She made me wait forever before she made an honest man of me."
Isabelle laughed.
Morgan blushed and kissed her husband goodbye. "You go write. I'll see to Isabelle."
After Tony left, they walked toward the small grocery store. Morgan asked, "Is everything okay out there?"
"It's lovely. And very quiet. Perfect for my research. And thank you again for letting me stay there even though I'm not participating in...in the events here."
"Don't be ridiculous. No one has to participate unless they want to. However, if you do change your mind and decide to check out some of the activities, you're more than welcome."
Participate in the activities? Not a chance. She nodded and smiled at Morgan anyway. "Sure thing. Thanks. By the way, is anyone else staying on the other side of the island? I noticed there was a bungalow next to mine."
Morgan shook her head. "No, it's empty. Why?"
Isabelle took out her list and grabbed a basket. "I thought I saw someone in the water last night, and was just wondering if there was another guest staying on that side of the island."
"The other bungalow wasn't booked this week. Would you like me to send someone to check it out?"
"No, don't do that. I think it was a sea turtle anyway. I wasn't feeling well last night and shouldn't have gone in the water, but I just thought I'd seen someone. I was probably just delirious from the fever."
Morgan stopped and turned to Isabelle. "Are you ill? We have a doctor on staff here, even a small hospital."
"I'm fine. Just a sharp pain on my right side and a little fever. It's gone now."
Morgan pressed her palm against Isabelle's forehead. "You don't feel warm, but I'd still like our doctor to check you out."
"No, really, I--"
"I insist."
From Morgan's serious look, Isabelle knew she wouldn't be able to work in peace until she allayed the woman's fears. "Fine."
An hour later she was sitting in Dr. Shalay's office. About sixty-years-old with white hair and a long beard, the doctor frowned.
"Based on your symptoms I'd say you had an acute appendicitis attack. But that can't be."
She hadn't thought of that. Dear God, she had no business swimming out that far last night. She could have died. "Does it need to come out?"
"Does what need to come out?"
"My appendix."
"What a silly question. The ultrasound showed you have no appendix, which you obviously already knew. But you also have no scar."
"Of course I don't have a scar, since I've never had surgery." Then, his words registered. "What do you mean I have no appendix?"
The doctor regarded her over his glasses as if she were a simpleton. "Would you like to see the ultrasound pictures? There's no appendix there, dear. Perhaps you never had one."
"I have to have an appendix."
"No. Yours has been removed or was never there."
After the confusing talk with Dr. Shalay, Isabelle made her way back to her bungalow. Last night was the worst pain she'd ever endured, and this morning she had no appendix.
She stripped off her clothes and stood in front of the bedroom closet. Sure enough, there was a red mark on her lower right side. How could she not have noticed it earlier? Inspecting it closer now, she could have sworn it looked like a palm print.
Ridiculous. Odd things had been happening since the moment she'd stepped onto Paradise yesterday. First that strange feeling of being watched, that sense of someone she knew waiting for her, then the whole episode last night and the bizarre dream.
She hadn't been sleeping well lately. Maybe the lack of rest was affecting her ability to think rationally. That was the only logical explanation she could come up with for her state of mind lately.
She put on her swimsuit and went outside with her dive gear and camera, figuring it was past time that she started on her work. She had sea turtles to find and catalog and coral reef to photograph.
After checking the gauges, she put on her tank and mask, then fastened her camera and notebook around her.
The dive down was lovely, the water clear and calm. The beauty of the sea never failed to take her breath away. She'd catalogued marine life from many locations around the world, but the Caribbean had always been the place she loved the best. From her earliest childhood memories, she recalled snorkeling in the waters and looking down into the depths, wondering what secrets the sea held. Now she had the chance to do it as a professional.
Visibility was at a maximum today, at least one-hundred-twenty feet. Thankful for the warm waters, at least she didn't have to wear a wet suit, which would have added even more weight to her already full load.
Clusters of coral stretched as far as she could see. Vibrant colors of the rainbow painted the homeland of the exquisite sea creatures. She looked up to see the sunlight sparkling like diamonds off the surface. Tourists snorkeling peered down from the top of the water, their fins undulating lazily as they gazed at the beauty she was fortunate to see close up. She must have traveled far enough out to end up on the other side of the island where they offered snorkeling excursions to the guests. She quickly moved off beyond the prying eyes of the floaters above.
There were definite advantages to her work. One of the main reasons she'd decided t
o become a marine biologist was to get closer to the sea. She'd been drawn to it her entire life. Something about being submerged in the depths and surrounded by all this beauty made her feel complete.
And it never bothered her to dive alone, in fact she preferred it, unlike her colleagues who always insisted they have a companion diver. Not her. When she did a dive by herself, the ocean was hers to explore as she wished.
Be careful.
Isabelle stopped and glanced around at the sound of a familiar whisper, then shook her head. Right. Now she was hearing voices and actually turned to see if someone was talking to her. Underwater.
She had to start getting more sleep at night.
Isabelle, hold still. Don't move.
Okay, now that wasn't funny. She really had heard a voice. A man's voice, almost like a flutter in her ear. Her first thought was to shake it off and move on, but some instinct told her to heed the warning.
She stilled. Seconds later, a shark swam past her, its fin brushing against her skin as it wound its way through the water.
Holy shit! How had she missed that? Gawking at the coral no doubt, her mind occupied with anything but what she should be thinking about--namely staying alert and keeping an eye on her surroundings.
The adrenalin rush sent her heart pounding against her chest. She watched the shark disappear ahead and tried to normalize her breathing. Over-inhaling the tank's oxygen would be the last thing she needed right now.
But she had heard a voice. A man's voice. Twice. And last night too, the same whisper she'd heard in her dream. She wasn't hallucinating this time and she was fully awake so she couldn't be dreaming. Someone watched her down here, she was certain of it.
But who? And more importantly, how? She searched the clear depths but could find no sign of bubbles from another tank, nor were there any boats parked above her.
She really needed to get a grip. Who was she looking for, anyway? Even if the floor had been populated with divers, no one down there could speak to her.
You're beautiful, Isabelle.
Not funny. She knew damn well that someone watched her. She could feel his presence. Or its presence. Or something. And she wasn't the type of person to hear voices in her head.
Her attention shot, she surfaced, swam to shore and pulled off her gear, storming into her bungalow and pacing.
Someone had been down there with her, and that someone had spoken to her. She didn't know how they'd done it, but she was sure that she hadn't lost her mind. She'd been diving for too many years and knew enough about the ocean to know that the military had advanced sonar capabilities. That had to be the explanation.
But how did he know her name? And why did his voice seem so familiar?
She was startled when a knock sounded at her door. No one was supposed to be on this side of the island.
It was probably housekeeping, and she was worrying for nothing.
She took a breath to calm her rattled nerves and opened the door.
It wasn't housekeeping. Not unless Paradise Resort had hired male centerfolds as maids these days. This guy looked more like a surfer.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
His smile showed white, even teeth made brighter by a tanned, chiseled face. He appeared kissed by the sun. His light brown hair was tipped with blond highlights and golden flecks danced in his green eyes.
Wow.
"Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Dax."
Warily, she shook his hand. "Isabelle King. Again, can I help you with something?"
That half-smile he gave her was sexy as all get out. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm staying in the bungalow next to yours and thought since we were gonna be neighbors, I'd be neighborly."
Isabelle swallowed, wishing she had a handy glass of water to quench her suddenly dry throat. "I was told I'd be alone on this side of the island."
He shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning against her doorway. "I just checked in a few minutes ago. Kind of an impromptu visit. I won't bother you. You working here or something?"
"How would you know that?" Suspicion crept into her thoughts.
Inclining his head toward her discarded dive gear, he grinned. "Looks like official stuff there. Besides, it says Oceanic Institute on your bag. Figure you're a marine biologist or something along those lines."
"Oh. Yes, that's right." He didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. Her telephone rang and she excused herself to run and answer it, determined to dial up the hotel immediately and confirm this stranger's appearance.
She didn't have to, since it was Morgan on the phone, telling her she'd had an unscheduled guest show up not more than a half hour ago, and he'd be occupying the bungalow next to hers.
At least she now knew he wasn't some escaped psychopath. She hung up the phone and went back to the door. He still leaned against her doorway with his arms crossed, his emerald eyes watching her.
Despite wanting to shut the door in his face and not deal with him, she hadn't been brought up to be rude. She motioned him inside and shut the door.
"You have a last name, Dax?"
He paused for a second, then grinned and said, "Seagrove."
The name didn't ring a bell, but somehow he seemed familiar to her. Maybe everything about her stay on the island here was some kind of weird deja vu experience. "I was about to have some iced tea. Would you like a glass?"
"Sure, thanks."
She poured him a glass and they stepped out back onto a covered porch.
"What brings you to the island?" she asked, hoping he wasn't there to indulge in some wild orgies. Not that she'd object to him having them, of course. It was simply the thought of all that noise bothering her when she was trying to work.
"I'm here on a hunt." He stretched his long legs out and Isabelle admired the view. He was tall, probably more than six feet. He didn't have an overly muscular body. Rather, he was lean and in good shape. Nice muscles. Six pack abs.
He also sported a very interesting tattoo of a symbol and a dolphin on his left bicep. "That's the Greek symbol for Delta on your arm."
"Yeah, it is."
"Curious. Why that symbol for a tattoo?"
He shrugged. "I studied ancient Greek. Learned the letters. I liked this one."
"I see."
He crossed his arms and his biceps bulged nicely. Not overly large like those sweaty guys at her gym who grunted and groaned trying to build huge muscles. Just nice and strong with defined muscles that made her mouth water. Damn he was good looking.
Then what he'd said earlier finally registered. "A hunt? What kind of hunt?"
"Well, typically I do wreck diving. You never know what kind of buried treasure you're going to find at the bottom of the ocean," he replied with a wink.
Wreck diving? Buried treasure?
Oh, hell. Dax was a treasure hunter.
Chapter Three
"You're a scavenger." Isabelle didn't even try to keep the irritation out of her voice.
"I'm a businessman." Dax didn't seem offended in the least. In fact, he grinned.
"You're a thief. Removing things from the sea which should be left untouched. You're no better than a grave robber."
Was that admiration she saw in his eyes? Couldn't be, since she'd just insulted him.
"I didn't say I was going to remove anything. I'm just looking."
"For?"
"Sea turtles."
Now she didn't care if she insulted him outright or not. "Hunting sea turtles for profit is forbidden. They're endangered and protected by the laws here."
He held up his hands and laughed. "Calm down, Isabelle. I'm not out to harvest any. I've been hired to search for one of the more elusive species. My employer figured since I'd hunted down shipwrecks I should be able to find a sea turtle."
"What species?"
"It's special. Unique. Never been seen before, actually."
She sucked in a breath. Surely she and Dax couldn't be after the same thing. "You're talking about
something that's nothing more than a myth."
He nodded. "The Pegasus Turtle."
"It doesn't exist."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. There's no documented evidence of a turtle like that in existence. It's nothing more than myth and folklore." But she'd still searched for it. Every time she entered the water it was foremost on her mind.
"Many things exist but remain hidden from humans," Dax said.
Isabelle stood and stepped into the sand beyond the veranda, digging her toes into the hot granules. She turned to Dax, who smiled enigmatically at her. "You sound like you have some experience in that area."
"I might."
"You've seen one." She wasn't buying it.
"I might have."
"Where?"
"Not too far from here. Offshore a bit. It's been a couple years ago, though. Want me to help you locate it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I work alone."
"That's no fun. Let me help you. Two sets of eyes out in the water are better than one any day."
Suspicious by nature, Isabelle wondered if Dax had some ulterior motive in wanting to work with her. She crossed her arms and leaned against the porch wall. "Who's paying you to do this? Please tell me it isn't one of those millionaires who wants a one-of-a-kind trophy."
"Nah. Just an interested party. He wants pictures...proof. That's all."
She searched his face, but couldn't tell from his expression whether he was lying or not. Then again, there were habitual liars in the world who were expert at hiding their secrets. "I see."
"Good. So, do you want help with your search?" he asked again.
She had a feeling this would cost her. If he was even telling the truth. "And what do I have to pay you for helping me?"
"Nothing."
"Right. How much?"
"I told you," he said again, laughing, "nothing."
"What's in it for you?" Because no one did anything for free. There was always an angle, an ulterior motive. And Dax didn't look like a boy scout.
Dax shrugged. "A diving companion."
She threw him a dubious glare. "Really. Why am I having trouble believing all you want out of this is someone to dive alongside you? Is this a come on? If so, I'll give you credit for being original, but I'm not in the market for a man."
He arched a brow. "You don't like men?"
"Of course I do. I'm just not interested in having one right now."