LITMIR.BIZ

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cream cheese. “You don’t look as if you slept well.”

      “I was up late reading.”

      He smirked. “About Passionata?”

      She nodded. “If she did even half the things she said she did, she was amazing.”

      “Supposedly it’s all true, though I have my doubts.”

      She sipped her coffee and studied him over the rim of her cup. Adam wouldn’t believe anything that wasn’t backed by scientific proof, but he’d thought enough of the book to lend it to her, so there must be some belief under his scepticism.

      Not that he looked much like an academic this morning. He hadn’t bothered to shave and wore a stained T-shirt and shorts that were frayed at the hem and faded to the color of putty. She supposed some women might consider him handsome, but she wasn’t one of them. To her, he was just Adam. The one friend she could depend on. And one whose opinion she valued. “So what did you think of Passionata’s theory that women hold the true power in any relationship?”

      “You mean all that stuff about using sex to literally bring a man to his knees?” He snorted. “I’ve known guys like that—ones who usually think with their dicks and end up letting some woman lead them around by the balls. But I think they’re the exception, not the rule.” He refilled his coffee cup. “Take me, for instance. I like sex as well as the next guy, but it’s not the be-all and end-all of my existence. Most of the time, it’s not even in the top three of things on my agenda.”

      “You could get kicked out of the Real Man Club for saying that.” She reached for a bagel and a jar of jam. “So you’re saying you’d be immune to a woman like Passionata—an accomplished seductress?”

      “You can only seduce someone who secretly wants to be seduced. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

      Maybe so, but despite his belief otherwise, Nicole suspected Adam had his statistics backward and he was the exception to Passionata’s rule. He was a man absorbed by his work—both teaching and his work-related hobby of hunting for artifacts. Everything else—personal grooming, eating and relationships—took a back seat to these passions.

      But other men—men like Kenneth—certainly did seem to base much of their decisions in life on sex: how to get it; who to get it from; how to keep it; how to get more of it. Hadn’t that been the reason Kenneth was sleeping with both her and the topless dancer from Pocono?

      “So what’s your interest in Passionata?” she asked.

      “What’s the first thing you think of when I say the word pirates?”

      “Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom?”

      He rolled his eyes. “Real pirates, not movie pirates.”

      She shrugged. “I don’t know. Treasure, I guess.”

      “Exactly.” He wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “Last summer, after I found Passionata’s autobiography, I started researching. I read everything I could get my hands on about her and her island headquarters. Have you got to the part in the book where she’s captured?

      Nicole shook her head. “I fell asleep about a third of the way through.” Not because the book didn’t hold her interest, but because a day of sailing could wear a person out.

      “I don’t think I’ll spoil it for you if I tell you she and her crew were trying to board a British merchant vessel when her ship—the Eve—ran onto the rocks and sank. The survivors of the wreck, including Passionata, were picked up by a second British Navy vessel. I’ve been searching through old nautical charts, seaman’s diaries, oceanographic surveys and the like, and I think I’ve located the wreck.”

      “And the treasure.” It all fit together now. Not only did Adam have a passion for history, he was a fiend for locating real-life artifacts related to the subjects he taught. He had spent previous summers volunteering with an archeological crew in Mexico, hunting for mastodon bones in the Black Hills and restoring Native American middens in Utah. So far most of his finds had done more to enhance his career than his bank account, but maybe that was about to change. “That’s why you asked me to bring my diving gear,” she said.

      He nodded. “We won’t have the time—or the money—to raise the ship and its contents. But I’m hoping we can locate enough items to interest backers who could fund a full-scale expedition next summer.”

      “What would something like that be worth?”

      “Historically, it’s virtually priceless. Shipwrecks of that antiquity are amazingly rare, and the kinds of artifacts I’d expect to find—weaponry, cutlery, gold and silver coins—would fetch a small fortune from collectors and museums. Easily in the millions. Possibly billions.”

      Her eyes widened. Adam laughed. “I’ll give you a share if you help me.”

      “Since I’m unemployed at the moment, I can’t say the money won’t come in handy.”

      “You won’t have any problem finding another job. Nurses are always in demand.”

      “True.” She brushed crumbs from her shirt. “But this time I think I’ll try a hospital. No more private clinics for me.”

      “You don’t have to think about it now. Enjoy the summer. If we find the treasure, it’ll be well worth your time. If not, at least you’ll come home with a good story and a tan.”

      She was hoping for more than a story and a tan. In between studying Passionata’s teachings and learning how to assert her female power, it might be fun to search for treasure. After all, if an ordinary woman could be powerful, then a rich woman might well be a superpower. “How long before we reach the island?” she asked.

      “We’ll stop off in Jamaica this afternoon for supplies, spend a couple days there taking in the sights, then sail for Passionata’s Island. If the weather holds, we’ll be there by the end of the week.”

      2

      BY THE TIME ADAM GUIDED the yacht into the harbor at Passionata’s Island, Nicole was ready to dive off and swim to shore. The promised couple of days in Jamaica had stretched to a week after Adam ran into friends. For the next seven days he had dragged Nicole from one beach party to barbecue to reggae concert to the next. It had all been fun, but with each passing day Nicole had grown more anxious to reach the island. She was ready for solitude, adventure—and the chance to discover more about the mysterious lady pirate who had also been duped by a lying man yet had gotten her revenge in a big way.

      Confessions of a Pirate Queen was still tucked under the pillow in her bunk. Thanks to Adam’s crammed social schedule, she hadn’t had the chance to read further in the book. One more reason she looked forward to reaching the island and being alone.

      Except, of course, for Adam. But she knew once he began the work of looking for the wreck, he’d be completely preoccupied. She’d have to remind him to eat, and only the fact that after sunset it was too dark to dive would force him to sleep. No wonder he was still single. No woman would put up with that kind of neglect for months at a time.

      “What do you think?” he asked as he wound down the anchor. He’d snugged the yacht into a narrow lagoon shaded by tall coconut palms. Waves broke against a spit of beige sand. In the clear water she could see small fish and crabs. A stiff breeze rattled the palm fronds and softened the heat of the brilliant sun.

      “It looks…like paradise.” She turned to him, grinning. “Can we go ashore now?”

      “Why not?” He unrolled a flexible aluminum ladder over the side of the boat and secured it, then swung onto it. Nicole scrambled down after him.

      “The island is known for the coral reef offshore and the colorful fish,” Adam said as he piloted the dinghy toward shore. “If it wasn’t so remote, it would probably be really popular with divers.”

      “I like the idea of us having it to ourselves.”

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