The Reef

down into the gut. But I’d shake it off. I had to. Things with Buck were as bad as they could get, and I hated every minute of what I was doing to make a lousy dollar.”
    “Matthew.”
    He shook his head to hold her off. “Let me get it out. It’s not easy stripping down this way. When I saw you again, it ripped my heart open. I wanted all those years back, and knew I couldn’t have them. Even when I got you into bed there was this hole. Because all I really wanted was for you to love me back.
    “I want a chance with you again. I want you to give it to me.” Now, at last, he looked at her, laid a hand on her cheek. “I might even be able to convince you that you like being in love with me.”
    She managed a shaky smile. “You probably could. I’m already beginning to lean in that direction.”
    “I’d start out by telling you that what I felt for you eight years ago was the biggest thing in my life. And it’s not even close to what I feel for you now.”
    She was near tears again, and more desperately in love than she’d thought possible. “What took you so long to tell me all of this?”
    “I was pretty sure you’d laugh in my face. Christ, Tate, I wasn’t good enough for you then. I’m no better for you now.”
    “Not good enough,” she said quietly. “In what possible way?”
    “In every possible way. You’ve got brains, an education, family.” Frustrated at trying to explain intangibles, he dragged his hand through his hair. “You’ve got—it’s . . . class.”
    She remained silent a moment while it all simmered. “You know, Matthew, I’m just too worn out to be angry with you, even for something that ignorant. I really had no idea you, of all people, had a problem with self-esteem.”
    “It’s not self-esteem.” The idea made him feel ridiculous. “It’s just fact. I’m a treasure hunter, broke most of the time. I’ve got nothing but a boat, and even that’s part LaRue’s. I’ll make a fortune on this hunt and probably blow it in a year.”
    She might have sighed if she hadn’t begun to understand. “And I’m a scientist with a carefully balanced portfolio. I don’t have a boat, but I have an apartment that I rarely use. This hunt’s going to make me famous, and I intend to use both that and my share of the fortune to make my mark a little deeper. Given those rundowns it appears we have very little in common and no logical reason to cultivate a long-term relationship. Want to give it a shot anyway?”
    “I figure this,” he said after a moment. “You’re old enough and smart enough to live with your mistakes. So yeah, I want to give it a shot.”
    “Me, too. I loved you once blindly. I see you much clearer now, and I love you more.” She framed his facewith her hands. “We must be crazy, Lassiter. But it feels good.”
    He turned his head, pressing his lips to the center of her palm. “It feels right.” Joy, he couldn’t remember when he’d last felt the simple lift of it. Gathering her close, he nuzzled his face in her hair. “I’d gotten over you, Red. Mostly.”
    “Mostly?”
    “I could never quite forget the way you smell.”
    With a chuckle, she leaned back so that she could see his face. “The way I smell?”
    “Fresh. Cool. Like a mermaid.” He touched his lips to hers, lingered. “I named her for you.”
    His boat, she realized. The boat he’d built with his own hands. “Matthew, you make my head spin.” Content, she laid her head on his shoulder. This time, she thought, they would sail off into the sunset. “We’d better go out on deck before someone comes looking for us. We’ve got something to tell the rest of the team.”
    “There’s that practical streak.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “And I was just thinking about getting you in bed.”
    “I know.” A quick, satisfying shiver coursed through her at the pleasure of being desired. “And that’s definitely something I’m looking forward to. But for now . . .” She took his hand and pulled him to the door. “I like the way you locked this,” she said, flipping the latch. “Very macho.”
    “You like macho, huh?”
    “In small, tasteful doses.” Outside, she hooked her arm through his and walked to the rail. She could hear the radio jingling from the deck of the Mermaid, and her mother’s brisk, tireless hammering. The compressor kicked on, grinding. The air was filled with the sulfuric perfume of undersea excavation.
    “They’re all going to be