Pulling the regulator from his mouth, he handed it to her. In her haste she almost took in a mouthful of water along with the air that she greedily sucked in. She tried to hand it back to him, but he shook her off and went to work on her tangled equipment.
He unbuckled the waist belt and helped her shrug off the vest, eventually slipping the tank off her shoulders.
Why hadn’t she thought of that? Panic had prevented her from thinking straight.
He pulled her through the opening, and she was free. The relief was overwhelming. A million questions were racing through her mind, but the only thing she could think was that he was here, and she’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
She handed him the regulator again. He took a quick breath this time, shaking his head when she tried to force him to keep it for longer. He lookedtotallycalm. Totally in control. As if he could hold his breath and go without air indefinitely. Maybe he could.
SEALs,she thought ruefully. They were inhuman. And maybe that wasn’t always a bad thing. The world needed men like him.Sheneeded him. Without him she’d be dead. Maybe there was something to be said for superheroes after all.
The water was his territory. She knew SEALs were trained to be just as comfortable underwater as they were on the surface, and she was seeing proof positive of that.
He made a few signals with his hand, and her head had cleared enough to know what he was asking. He wanted to know where the other woman was. Annie pointed down in the ship and put her hand in front of her mask, hoping to indicate a silt-out.
He nodded, and they started to swim away from the wreck toward the surface. Dean was at her side, holding her arm as if he wasn’t ever going to let go of her—which was pretty much fine by her.
He’d made her feel like that before, but somehow she knew this was different.
He’d come for her.
She felt a swell of happiness rise inside her before it was harshly jerked back. Someone had her by the fin.
•••
Dean didn’t need to tell himself scary stories—he lived through enough real ones—but he couldn’t stop thinking what would have happened had he been a few minutes later.
He could have lost her. He hadn’t. But knowing how close he’d been...
He had a sick feeling in his chest that moved between panic and wanting to throw up. He was surprised to feel anything through the bone-numbing cold. He needed to get out of this water soon. His hands were already like clubs.
The unbearable cold coupled with the overwhelming sense of relief at finding her turned his operational awareness to shit. That was how one minute Annie was at his side, and the next she was yanked from his hold.
He looked down to see the wild-eyed face through the mask of the woman from the photo. She was clearly in a rage and dragging Annie down with one hand while waving a gun through the water with the other.
Oh, fuck. She’s going to shoot.
That was the only thought he had as he dove between them, putting his body between the gun and Annie.
He heard the shot and then felt the impact. But he didn’t feel pain, and realized from a pinging sound that the bullet had hit his tank. As the tank didn’t shoot off like a missile—or explode if you believedJaws—the bullet must not have penetrated the metal.
He pushed Annie out of the way as the woman waved thegun around wildly toward him again. But he’d already reached for the gun he’d tucked in his pants.
It wouldn’t have been a contest if he wasn’t so fucking cold, but his icy fingers and frozen brain made it closer than he would have liked. His bullet hit her right between the eyes a split second before she fired. She might have hit him, if Annie hadn’t distracted her. Annie had lunged toward the woman with her dive knife, but it was too late. The last signs of life were already fading from the woman’s frozen-forever-in-surprise eyes.
Dean quickly located the regulator and held it out to Annie. She took a few breaths before pushing it back toward him. He’d been without air for a couple of minutes and didn’t argue.
He forced himself to breathe normally. Having been here too many times before was the only thing that prevented him from sucking it in. He handed it back to her and slowly they ascended, stopping once to trade breaths.
When they finally broke through the surface, Dean half expected them to be surrounded by police. He was relieved to see that they were alone. His “borrowed” transportation had floated toward a small islet, but the dive boat and Annie’s fellow divers had returned to shore. He could see why. The police chopper had finally arrived and must have radioed the kid to come get them to bring them out.
But Dean didn’t give a shit about the police. He yanked off his mask, tossed it in the water next to him, and pulled her into his arms.
She was alive. That was all that mattered.
Thank God, he’d arrived in time. But it would be some time before the image of her gasping for breath and trying not to panic faded from his memory. He was too torn up to say anything—emotion stuck in his throat like a logjam.
He was glad that she’d lifted off her mask, because it made it easier when he kissed her—kissed the hell out of her. It was as if all the emotion, all the bundled-up tension, all the panic and fear gave loose in a fierce—savage—explosion of need. He’d almost lost her, and he wasn’t ever going to let that happen again.
