Buried Threads

Book Excerpt

Reluctantly, she took the proffered hand. "Rachel Lyons." She bristled at the man's touch — the strange sensation it evoked. Although she wanted to draw her hand away quickly, his other hand closed over hers and held it tight. After an endless moment, he released his grasp and leaned back in his seat, giving her the space she craved.

How odd.

He pointed at her files and borrowed copies of Emperors of the Han Dynasty and The Knights of Templar. "Looks like you're got some heavy reading to do. We definitely have a lot in common."

She quirked her brows. "We do?"

"In regard to your interest in history. So what is it you do, Miss Lyons?" He flashed a wide disarming smile.

She hesitated before answering. "I find missing things too...under the sea."

"You're a treasure hunter?" he asked.

Rachel nodded.

"That sounds intriguing."

She opened her file and felt his gaze sharply, as if he had reached out and touched her skin. She sensed that he wanted to delve further into her life, but for the next two hours she studied ocean topography and reports on strange sea creature sightings, and made a point of not sparing him more than the briefest of glances. The lights on the plane were eventually dimmed and all around her window shades were being pulled down. It had been three long days since Chase left their warm bed in her father's beachside cottage for salvage preparations in Japan. His absence and the anticipation of her trip had left Rachel completely exhausted. As the air thickened and the airplane cabin stilled, her eyelids fought gravity. The gentle swaying and steady hum of the engines lulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Eventually, the sound of the breakfast cart jolted her awake. Still groggy, she forced her eyes open and inhaled the enticing aroma of hot coffee, reminding her of freshly ground heaven. However, her calm was short lived. With one look to her side, she realized the file she'd been reading prior to drifting off to sleep had been tucked into the seat pocket ahead of her.

You've got to be kidding me. Rachel studied Shinzo while he sheepishly sipped his coffee. His concerted effort to avoid eye contact left her wondering if he'd taken advantage of her carelessness by snooping through her confidential papers. Everything she'd been sworn to keep secret might have been exposed to this invasive stranger, endangering not only Trident Venture's project but also the individual who had risked his life to hire them.

She hesitated before asking, "Did you by chance move my file?"

"Your papers fell," he answered. "By the looks of them, you might want to keep those close to you, Miss Lyons."

His inference was unnerving. Although tempted to ask if he'd found anything of interest, she simply mumbled, "Thank you."

With that, Shinzo turned his view to the window.

Mindful of the cart's proximity, Rachel stood abruptly and pulled down her carry-on. She emptied the seat next to her, zipped her bag shut and returned it to the overhead bin. Then she resumed her seat and stared straight ahead with her hands clenched in her lap. Buried anxieties were surfacing by the second, curbing her appetite. She shook her head, declining breakfast when it arrived on the hands of the blond stewardess.

"That looks delicious," Shinzo said, lowering his tabletop. Rachel watched as a tray containing a cheese omelet, blueberry yogurt cup, croissant and strawberry jam was set down before him. The stewardess returned a second time with coffee, cream and sugar.

Wonderful. Rachel picked up the in-flight magazine and flipped blindly through its pages. She rocked her heel nervously, anxious for this tortuous ride to be over. Her cheeks warmed at the practically pornographic noise that came out of her seatmate, as he threw his head back and munched gratifyingly, his eyes closed in contentment. She noticed a spot of jam on the corner of his mouth and looked away determinedly.

"There's nothing better than warm bread and eggs in the morning," he said, recovering from his omelet orgasm.

Rachel glared at the annoying man, willing him be sucked out the window. But then she'd never know his whole story. "You're not a private investigator, are you, Mr. Shinzo?" she grilled.

He picked up his torn roll and smeared it with more jam. "I never said I was."

"But you inferred as much."

"That was never my intent. If you recall, I never told you what I actually recover."

She shook her head and sarcastically laughed. "Oh my, God...you're a treasure hunter, aren't you? I've been sitting next to my competition this whole time."

Shinzo chuckled. "Not quite."

"So, what do you collect then?"

"I think you'd have a hard time believing me if I told you."

"Try me," she said then inwardly cringed on her insistence.

After another well-chewed mouthful, he looked directly at her and replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Souls."