“Yes, I am a direct descendant of Aramis, who was my great-times-something grandfather. His name isn’t known to many people in history, but those who do know it, and believe the legend of El Falcone, also believe him to be a pirate and a thief.”

“Was he?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to find out. More specifically, my father wanted to find out, and he was very close to doing just that when he died.” She handed him the notebook. “Quite a bit of it is in here. The information about El Falcone, a ship that carried two of the most spectacular diamonds ever mined, set atop matching royal scepters that were commissioned as a gift for King Luis I of Portugal and his bride, Maria Pia.”

He just listened, taking in the gleam in her topaz eyes.

“A few months before my father died, he went to Havana and scoured the libraries and manifests and old documents and found many answers, and plenty of questions. It was his lifelong mission to find out the truth, to salvage El Falcone, and, mostly, to clear Aramis Dare’s name and prove that he was no pirate; he was a merchant.”

“Okay. And… how are you fulfilling this mission?” He knew, of course, but wanted to hear her say it.

“My dad’s theory was that El Falcone wasn’t lost in a storm. It was shot by cannon fire, taken down by a man who was Aramis’s sworn enemy, a man who tried to renege on paying for the very scepters and diamonds he’d commissioned artisans to make.”

Con leaned back, considering what he should say.

She stared at him, that look of expectation brightening her eyes again. But she wasn’t going to say it. He’d have to.

“You think we’re salvaging El Falcone.”

“I know we are. And you know what else? Judd Paxton knows it. That’s why all the secrecy. I don’t know if he knows all that my father knew, but he knows enough. And he’s going to rip this wreck apart piece by piece, selling all of the treasures to his high-bidding private collectors. A tiny portion of it will be in a museum, if any, and no one is going to look for the truth about what happened to the ship, leaving the world to think Aramis Dare stole everything because every item on the ship was sin registrada.”

“Not registered.”

“Exactly. No official manifest exists. Aramis was selling the goods to private buyers. He bought the treasures himself, and didn’t officially register the ship. That’s why he was considered a pirate. But he was just a shrewd businessman.”

Kind of like Judd himself.

“Paxton’s already stripping up the treasure,” she said, slapping her hand on her thigh with anger. “Don’t you see that? He’s stealing treasure he found on the bottom of the ocean and selling it. Aramis Dare paid for his treasures and was selling them to a third party for profit, which is perfectly legal. If he didn’t get paid for them, then he kept them himself. And according to what my father found, he didn’t get paid for them. Therefore…” She stood. “I own everything we find on this dive.”

Con just stared at her. “You want to keep all the treasure?”

“Not all of it, and not for profit or glory,” she shot back. “I want to do what’s right with the treasure. Display it. Exhibit it. Share it. Tell Aramis’s story and make it a testament to him.”

Really?

She leaned forward, her golden brown eyes wide and sincere, searching his face. “I can trust you, right, Con?” She reached for his hand. “I don’t know you well, so this is a huge risk, but I have this powerful gut instinct about you that I can trust you.”

Trust him to turn all this over to his boss and her client, sure. “Yeah.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s all about the scepters and the diamonds, as you can imagine. Those matching blue diamonds sitting on top of matching golden scepters created for a king and his bride, that’s the big draw, right?”

“If the diamonds are sizable and really match, of course.”

“So if the scepters are found and taken off this boat, and turned over to the state authorities before Paxton goes through the claim filing, he can’t keep them.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do?” Con almost laughed. “Single-handedly find two matching scepters and two of the world’s most valuable diamonds, figure out a way to somehow bring them up without your dive partner seeing them, get them off this boat, and report him to the state, using the scepters to prove that this is El Falcone and that some kind of Cuban paperwork says they belong to your family?”

Her smile was slow at the end of all that. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Would you help me?”

“Why would I do that?”

She put one hand on his knee, squeezing softly. “Because you are one of the good ones, Con. I see it in your eyes. In your attitude. I see a good man. Will you help me?”

When she found out the truth about what he was doing, she’d hate him. Not that it mattered what this spunky little blonde thought of him. He had a job to do.

And helping her, in some way, might actually be doing that job. He’d know if she found anything, and then he could let Lucy know.

“What are the chances,” he said slowly, buying some time as he thought this through, “that you are going to find two golden scepters and matching diamonds at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean? They could be anywhere.”

“Anywhere,” she agreed with a twinkle in her eye. “Absolutely anywhere.”

Slowly, her eyes dancing, she lifted the large, loose top she wore, revealing hips in low-slung jeans, then her bare waist, then the elastic bottom of a sports bra.

With one hand, she reached into her cleavage. “One might even be right here.”

In one smooth move, she held out her hand, opened her fist, and presented a pale blue diamond the size of a baseball.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, staring at it.

“You can say that again.”

“How long have you had this?”

“Got it the second day. The second day! Can you believe that?”

He just stared, every hair on his neck standing in awe. “And the scepter?”

“That’s where you come in.”

He finally looked up at her. “How?”

“This came right out of the scepter, which I hid- pretty damn well, I might add-under the ballast pile. I’ve been waiting to pick the right person on board to be my accomplice.” She held out the diamond, inviting him to touch it. “And now, I’ve found him.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHEN HE REACHED for the diamond, Con’s icy eyes darkened and they were, for just that instant, precisely the color of the Bombay Blue. Lizzie let him take it, as pleased with his expression of awe and desire as she was with her plan. And her choice of partners.

“Con,” she said, dropping to her knees in front of him to get in his line of vision, which was locked on the rock. “This belongs to my family.” She seized the book and waved it over the diamond. “The proof is in these pages.”

He might have heard her, but he was still turning the diamond over in his hands, his jaw loose, his fascination clear.

“This is incredible.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“It certainly is,” she agreed. “Which is why we can’t let Judd Paxton sell these on the black market. Treasures like this belong in a museum, for the whole world to enjoy.” She grabbed his forearm and demanded his attention. “You realize that I don’t want to keep this or profit from it. It’s for posterity, not prosperity.”

He finally looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“It was my father’s favorite saying about treasure hunting. It should be done for posterity, not prosperity. Which is why he hated Judd Paxton. One of the reasons, anyway.”

“What were the others?”

She rocked back on her heels, unwilling to go back to the chair. She liked being close to him, liked looking up into his rugged face. Liked it a little too much.