Free Treasures Lost, Treasures Found by Nora Roberts

had already stripped down to brief bikini trunks before she turned away for her own gear.
    If her heart was pounding, it was possible to tell herself it was in anticipation of the dive. If her throat was dry, she could almost believe it was nerves at the thought of giving herself to the sea again. His body was hard and brown and lean, but she was only concerned with his skill and his knowledge. And he, she told herself, was only concerned with his fee and his twenty-five percent of the find.
    She wore a snug tank suit under her shorts that clung to subtle curves and revealed long, slender legs that Ky knew were soft as water, strong as a runner’s. He began to pull on the thin rubber wet suit. They were here to lookfor gold, to find a treasure that had been lost. Some treasures, he knew, could never be recovered.
    As he thought of it, Ky glanced up to see Kate draw the pins from her hair. It fell, soft and slow, over, then past her shoulders. If she’d shot a dart into his chest, she couldn’t have pierced his heart more accurately. Swearing under his breath, Ky lifted the first set of tanks.
    “We’ll go down for an hour today.”
    “But—”
    “An hour’s more than enough,” he interrupted without sparing her a glance. “You haven’t worn tanks in four years.”
    Kate slipped into the set he offered her, securing the straps until they were snug, but not tight. “I didn’t tell you that.”
    “No, but you’d sure as hell have told me if you had.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted when she remained silent. After attaching his own tanks, Ky climbed over the side onto the ladder. She could either argue, he figured, or she could follow.
    To clear his mask, he spat into it, rubbed, then reached down to rinse it in salt water. Pulling it over his eyes and nose, Ky dropped into the sea. It took less than ten seconds before Kate plunged into the water beside him. He paused a moment, to make certain she didn’t flounder or forget to breathe, then he headed for greater depth.
    No, she wouldn’t forget to breathe, but the first breath was almost a sigh as her body submerged. It was as thrilling to her as it had been the first time, this incredible ability to stay beneath the ocean’s surface and breathe air.
    Kate looked up to see the sun spearing through the water, and held out a hand to watch the watery light play on her skin. She could have stayed there, she realized, just reveling in it. But with a curl of her body and a kick, she followed Ky into depth and dimness.
    Ky saw a school of menhaden and wondered if they’d end up in the net of the fishing boat he’d watched that morning. When the fish swerved in a mass and rushed past him, he turned to Kate again. She’d been right when she’d told him she knew what to do. She swam as cleanly and as competently as ever.
    He expected her to ask him how he intended to look for the Liberty , what plan he’d outlined. When she hadn’t, Ky had figured it was for one of two reasons. Either she didn’t want to have any in-depth conversation with him at the moment, or she’d already reasoned it out for herself. It seemed more likely to be the latter, as her mind was also as clean and competent as ever.
    The most logical method of searching seemed to be a semi-circular route around Hardesty’s previous dives. Slowly and methodically, they would widen the circle. If Hardesty had been right, they’d find the Liberty eventually. If he’d been wrong…they’d have spent the summer treasure hunting.
    Though the tanks on her back reminded Kate not to take the weightless freedom for granted, she thought she could stay down forever. She wanted to touch—the water, thesea grass, the soft, sandy bottom. Reaching out toward a school of bluefish she watched them scatter defensively then regroup. She knew there were times when, as a diver moved through the dim, liquid world, he could forget the need for the sun. Perhaps Ky had been right in limiting the dive. She had to be