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more majestic from the air on an early-morning flight.

They were almost to the island, and the channel, where it had started. Will stopped the boat and let it drift while he soaked up the moment. Since he’d flown them to Mountain Cove, he’d let her drive the boat a few hours, and she’d made good time even driving slower to compensate for boating at night. But he hadn’t been able to sleep more than a couple of hours and had soon relieved her at the helm. She’d fallen asleep and he’d let her rest a little longer.

He wanted to be sure they were completely alone before they made the dive of their lives.

Then he sensed Sylvie’s light-footed approach. When she stood silently next to him, he suspected she wasn’t contemplating her next words this time, but instead basked in the glory of dawn, as well.

After everything they had been through together—facing death head-on—Will couldn’t help himself. He didn’t fight it this time, or berate himself, but did what was only natural and slid his arm around her waist.

Sylvie leaned into him as though there was something more between them. Will knew there couldn’t be. He sensed that he and Sylvie were in agreement on that. Then what was going on? Was she as confused as he was?

He couldn’t deny there was more between them, more than a physical connection, and there was definitely chemistry. As he held her close, watching the sunrise, Will thought Sylvie could be the one to help him forget the past.

But no, that was wrong. Will didn’t want to forget the past. Keeping the past, carrying it around with him, was just the protection he needed. That way, he would never again get hurt.

Except equally as painful was the thought of extricating himself from his involvement with Sylvie. He didn’t want to do that, either, but the next few hours would be all or nothing for them both.

Bile rose in his throat so that he could no longer ignore the fear he’d tried to push down.

Sylvie stiffened and inched away. “Listen, Will. You don’t need to dive with me, okay? I’m an instructor, a master diver, so I do this all the time. And I’ve been on search and rescue recoveries.”

Will heard what she did not say about finding the victims of a downed plane. Did he really want to see his mother that way—after two months underwater? He shoved those thoughts aside. “I’m going, Sylvie. I’ll admit, it’s been a while, but it’s like riding a bike. And—” Will reached up and brushed a strand of her hair back “—I trust you to lead the way. I’m not letting you go alone.”

“But someone needs to watch the boat to make sure that the same thing doesn’t happen again.”

“If Diverman shows up on his boat, I don’t want you down there alone. We do this together. If it comes to that, we’ll escape together. You need someone to watch your back down there where it matters most.”

Will eyed the horizon, hoping the backup he’d called for would come in time. He hadn’t wanted to alert Sylvie to his actions because knowing her, she’d lose Will and attempt to go it alone, believing she was protecting him and any others from getting hurt.

While securing their diving equipment and boat, even though it was during odd hours of the night, Will had texted both David Warren and Chief Winters, informing them of their actions, and that they had no time to delay.

He couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her and no one knew where they were, if no help came in time to save her. Maybe help wouldn’t be necessary. There were no guarantees this dive would lead them to the plane or the thumb drive, and he could be calling in friends for nothing. But there were no guarantees Will’s backup would show up in time to help, if needed, either.

“We should get going. I’ll circle the island and make sure we’re well alone before we dive.” Will steered the boat around the island, watching in the distance for other boats. For the enemy. He’d considered taking a floatplane here. It would have been faster, but cumbersome to get into the dry suits, and they needed the boat to warm up after diving in the cold water. Needed a warm shower. It wasn’t practical or safe to stay long in these cold waters, even with the proper gear.

“You never told me what happened to you. Why you no longer dive. You said your father died?”

He took his time to answer, steering toward the island, scanning the horizon. Sylvie stood next to him, peering through binoculars. For just a second he squeezed his eyes shut, and that was all it took. Visions of his father slammed him.

“Will?”

“I’m getting to it.”

He shook his head and focused. He had to stay on task here.

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked. If you don’t want to talk about it, maybe now isn’t the time.”

“I’m good.” Will punched it, speeding around the island. Searching the area for any suspicious activity. Someone waiting for them. Like Sylvie, he sensed they were in a race against the clock.

“My father loved to fly and brought Mom out here from Montana to build a bush pilot business. He also loved to climb and dive, and he served as a volunteer search and rescue diver, too.” Like Sylvie. His father had been a lot like Sylvie. He didn’t look at her, though, just watched the water as he spoke. “He was on a recovery dive. A sunken vessel and...there were bodies to recover.”

Will wasn’t sure this was the time to talk about it, after all.

“He was only forty-five when he died. He was on a recovery dive that was supposed to be a bounce dive. Two hundred feet.”

“Deep and cold.” Sylvie nodded her understanding.

“Did the martini effect, nitrogen narcosis, get to him? Scramble his brain like he was drunk? Don’t know. But at that many atmospheres down,

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