The Reef

champagne. She had her hand around the stem before she realized she’d been maneuvered.
    “Listen—”
    “I’d be happy to,” he agreed. He sighed as the compressor fell silent. “Ah, that is better. Now, you were saying you’re missing some property?”
    “You’re well aware of it. Artifacts from the Santa Marguerite. We’ve been excavating for weeks. We have a legitimate claim.”
    He studied her face with obvious interest. It was always a pleasure for him to observe someone so animated and bold, particularly when he had already won. He pitied those who didn’t appreciate the true challenge of the business deal, and the true triumph of winning. “There may be some confusion about that. The claim.” He pursed his lips, then sampled his champagne. “We are in free water here. The government often disputes such things, which is why I contacted them several months ago to apprise them of my plans to dig here.” He drank again. “It’s unfortunate you weren’t informed. Of course, when I arrived I did notice that someone had been poking about. But then, there was no one here.”
    Several months ago, my ass, Tate thought, but forced herself to speak calmly. “We had an accident. One of our team is in the hospital.”
    “Oh, how unfortunate. Treasure-hunting can be a dangerous business. It’s been a hobby of mine for some years now. I’ve been quite lucky all in all.”
    “The Sea Devil was left here,” Tate continued. “Our markers were here. The rules of salvage—”
    “I’m willing to overlook the impropriety.”
    Her mouth fell open. “ You’re willing?” The hell withcalm. “You jump our claim, you steal artifacts and records from our boats—”
    “I don’t know anything about this property you’re missing,” he interrupted. His voice firmed, as it would with a difficult underling. “I suggest you contact the authorities on Saint Kitts or Nevis about that.”
    “You can be sure I will.”
    “Sensible.” He plucked the champagne from its silver bucket, poured more into his glass, into Yvette’s. “Don’t you care for Taittinger’s?”
    Tate set the flute down with a snap. “You’re not going to get away with this. We found the Marguerite, we worked her. One of our team nearly died. You’re not going to sail in and take what’s ours.”
    “Ownership in such matters is a foggy area.” He paused a moment to study the wine in his glass. And ownership, of course, was what life was all about. “You can of course dispute it, but I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed with the outcome. I have a reputation for winning.” He beamed at her and stroked a fingertip down Yvette’s gleaming arm. “Now,” he said and rose. “Perhaps you’d like a tour. I’m very proud of the Triumphant. She has some very unique features.”
    “I don’t give a damn if you’ve done the head in solid gold.” Her own control surprised her as she rose and stared him down. “Fancy boats and a European flair don’t negate piracy.”
    “Sir.” The steward cleared his throat politely. “You’re wanted forward.”
    “I’ll be along in a moment, André.”
    “Yes, Mr. VanDyke.”
    “VanDyke,” Tate repeated, and her stomach trembled. “Silas VanDyke.”
    “My reputation precedes me.” He seemed only more pleased that she knew of him. “How remiss of me not to have introduced myself, Miss . . .”
    “Beaumont. It’s Tate Beaumont. I know who you are, Mr. VanDyke, and I know what you’ve done.”
    “That’s flattering.” He lifted his glass, toasting herbefore finishing off the frothy wine. “But then, I’ve done many things.”
    “Matthew told me about you. Matthew Lassiter.”
    “Oh, yes, Matthew. I’m sure he has spoken, none too kindly, of me. And since he has, you’re probably aware that there is one particular item that interests me.”
    “Angelique’s Curse.” Her palms might have been damp, but Tate lifted her chin. “Since you’ve already killed for it, stealing shouldn’t be an obstacle.”
    “Ah, young Matthew’s been filling your head with nonsense,” he said pleasantly. “It’s understandable that the boy had to blame someone for his father’s accident, particularly when his own negligence might have caused it.”
    “Matthew isn’t negligent,” she snapped back.
    “He was young, and hardly to blame. I might have offered to help them financially at the time, but I’m afraid he was unreachable.” He moved his shoulders gently. “And as I said,