Ageless

 

By Kate

 

A few things you should know about this story. It makes use of several of my original characters and references one or two previous stories. The only story it helps to be familiar with is “Masquerade,” although even that isn’t necessary as I’ve taken care to explain previous events and character relationships. This is primarily a story about Lee Crane and Alyssa Halston but Chip, Harry and even Jamie get a LOT of scenes this time around. As for Lee and Alyssa (for those of you who have followed that story line), “Ageless” finally brings some resolution to their relationship. I’ve been asked several times who inspired Alyssa and that would be the lovely and talented Jane Seymour. 

 

I don’t normally write stories like this and I realize not everyone will care for the way I chose to end things, but the plot of Ageless has been in the back from my head (in one form or other) since I finished Free Fall. I took my time getting here, but I finally decided Alyssa and Lee (and everyone else) deserved some closure. Thanks to my beta readers Theresa, Liz and Diane K. Comments can be sent to veniceplace12@verizon.net. 

 

 

Chip Morton didn’t understand women.

 

Sometimes he thought he did. Sometimes in a moment of sheer insanity he thought he’d solved the mystery of what motivated the female psyche. He was pumped up and proud then, thought he had the world on a pedestal until something happened to make him realize what a complete and utterly clueless novice he was. On December 31, 1978 that something was Deyanne Jenna Montgomery.

 

“Dey. Trust me. You look gorgeous. I don’t understand what the problem is.” He felt like he was speaking a foreign language. They’d been on a few dates now and were comfortable with one another, or at least Chip thought they were. But the woman stalking through the apartment, rummaging in closet after closet barely resembled the self-assured conservation artist he’d been dating.

 

And that had nothing to do with the way she was dressed, though her sleeveless gold cocktail dress with its high mandarin collar and clingy fabric was nothing like the gypsy clothing he was used to seeing her wear. Add a pair of stiletto heels and pearl-encrusted combs that held her waist-length hair back from her face in a raven waterfall and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Who would have thought the woman could go from broom skirts and paint-splotched jeans to that?

 

“It was here!” Dey insisted from the vicinity of the bedroom. “I saw it yesterday.” He heard a door bang and looked helplessly to the open coat closet in the tiny foyer. With an exaggerated puff of his cheeks he braved the menagerie of coats and jackets neatly lined on hangers.

 

“What about this one?” He pulled a green cape-like thing - - what did women call it . . . a wrap? - - from the closet and raised it half-heartedly. 

 

Dey stuck her head out of the bedroom door long enough to part with a frown. “No. That’s emerald green. I want the jade one.”

 

Emerald. Jade. Green was green. He’d never known Dey to be so fussy before but, then again, the woman was an artist. She probably had twenty different color variations and names for what he would call green.

 

“I just bought it,” she called, vanishing into the bedroom again to the sound of more rummaging. “I wanted it specifically to wear to the party with this dress.” An unlady-like curse was followed by more doors banging shut.

 

At the rate they were going if she didn’t hurry up it would be 1979 before they even arrived at the Institute’s annual New Year’s Eve bash. Chip put the shawl back in the closet and closed the door. Thank God all he’d had to do was shower and shrug into some dress blues. Dey had clearly been impressed by his meticulously-detailed uniform when he’d shown up on her doorstep. It was only two weeks ago they’d gone out on their first true date and not long after that when he’d asked her to attend the NIMR celebration with him.

 

She’d been excited by the prospect. Her soon-to-be business partner, Chip’s sister, Veronica Morton would be there along with her date, Rick Kowalski, and she’d be meeting a lot of other people for the first time. She’d been excited about it then, suddenly, within the last two days, panic had struck. Chip still didn’t understand why. Deyanne already knew most of Seaview’s crew and a handful of Institute personnel. She’d even sailed on the sub with her uncle, Cecil Honeywell, a noted conservationist and speaker. Why a New Year’s Eve celebration would have her hyperventilating and acting like a scatter-brained female was beyond him. She certainly wasn’t bashful by any means.

 

“I found it,” she declared, emerging from the bedroom with a green shawl draped over her arm. Chip didn’t see the difference in color between the one she carried and the one he’d pulled from the closet, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

 

“Great.” He smiled. The shawl debacle aside, she really did look beautiful. “You look fantastic, Deyanne.”

 

“Thanks.” She smiled nervously and smoothed her hair into place, her face flushed. “I guess we should get going.”

 

Chip paused, studying her more closely. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No.” This time she smoothed her dress as if unsatisfied with the way it hugged her curves. “Are you sure I look all right?”

 

Chip frowned. “Dey, you look beautiful.” They’d only been dating a short time, but he’d never known her to be hung up on her appearance. Her fussing and nervousness were completely out of character. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No.” She gave a quick shake of her head then immediately backpedaled, her eyes flashing to his face. “It’s just I’ll be meeting so many people. People who are important to you. And...” She swallowed uneasily. “I’ll be meeting her.”

 

And just that quickly Chip understood.

 

**********

 

Another year was passing, fading with the hands of time like so many before.

 

In the past, Lee Crane had faced New Year’s Eve with melancholy, determination, or a combination of both. For too many years the only motivation he’d had was his career and the drive to succeed. One year faded into the next and, while his accomplishments were extraordinary, there’d always been a strange emptiness in his heart. He had a handful of close friends and people he cared strongly for, but he could count them on one hand. Somehow, he always imagined himself ending up alone, thus the melancholy and the determination not to let it bother him. Another year where nothing had changed.

 

Only this year, something had.

 

He’d fallen in love and met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The emptiness was gone, replaced by a sense of belonging. Dare he say it? He was happy. Not just content or moving through a world where everything was going his way, but lighter-than-air, top-of-the-world happy. For once there was no melancholy at the passing of time or a grim resolve to make the new year better. He felt at peace with the past, the future and, most especially, the present.

 

Lee finished greeting a group of civilian scientists from the marine mammals lab and looked around for Alyssa. The banquet hall at NIMR had been set with linen-draped tables in rounds of eight, two open bars, and several hot and cold hors d'oeuvre stations. Overhead, suspended just below the ceiling by netting, hundreds of blue and white air-filled balloons waited to be released.  Lee knew they would drop at midnight, along with a flutter of confetti as the band broke into Auld Lang Syne.

 

He grinned, thinking of the mess it would make. From his vantage point in the reception line at the front of the room, he spied Alyssa on the dance floor with Nelson. Even if he wasn’t completely in love with her, he’d be convinced she outshone every other woman in the room. She’d chosen a deep purple gown tonight with an exaggerated sweetheart top, her shoulders and arms bare. He didn’t know much about fashion, but he liked the elegant seams of the fabric and the way it hugged her slim body, giving her an almost mermaid silhouette with its ruffled train. She’d woven her hair into a series of long curling spirals then caught them up in some kind of jeweled clip. The resulting twists and corkscrews tumbled in a glossy red stream down her bare back. As usual, she’d kept her jewelry understated - - a touch of silver at her throat and on her wrists.

 

He stood a moment, listening to the band, watching as Nelson twirled her across the gleaming hardwood floor. It was crowded with other couples, but Lee only had eyes for Alyssa. 

She tilted her head back, laughing at something Nelson said and Lee felt his heartbeat quicken. He knew that, rightfully, love should fade from a blazing inferno to a steadily burning flame as infatuation gave way to true love then to a deeper, spiritual bond. Yet as connected as he was to Alyssa - - soul-to-soul and heart-to-heart, the inferno had never dimmed.

 

“They look good together, don’t they?”

 

Lee pulled himself from his thoughts long enough to find Dr. Nicole Rook at his side. The older sister of a woman he’d once been seriously involved with, he’d found it difficult to talk to her not that long ago. But that was quickly changing as she became romantically involved with Nelson and turned into a best friend for Alyssa.

 

Lee glanced back to the dance floor. “They do,” he admitted. In her heeled silver sandals Alyssa was slightly taller than Nelson, yet he was far and away the more imposing presence in his dress blues. “I guess it’s good for both of us they still have marked affection for one another.”

 

Nicole took a sip of her drink. Lee guessed it was some kind of lime spritzer judging by the fresh citrusy smell wafting from the glass. “They’re both important to me too, Lee,” she observed. “Harry and I are, well . . . closer than we’ve ever been, and Alyssa has turned into a good friend. Surprising, since I was determined to dislike her the first time I met her. You know... a model.” She arched her eyebrows as if the term explained it all.

 

He grinned, having encountered the same prejudice before. People who didn’t know Alyssa expected her to be snooty and spoiled with an overly-inflated opinion of herself. Nothing could be further from the truth. She’d even used an assumed identity when she’d attended the charity auction where they’d met, just so she wouldn’t draw attention.

 

“You’re good for her,” he said without thinking. What he meant was that she needed a woman close to her age who wasn’t part of the fashion or cosmetics industry - - who didn’t look at the world as a series of red-carpet events and photo ops. It wasn’t that Alyssa did, but many of the people who moved in her circle were shallow and hung up on looks. It made him worry about her. He feared she was becoming overly obsessed with her age and the sixteen-year difference between them. 

 

Just the other day she’d told him she was thinking of having cosmetic surgery to remove the small laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. He hadn’t even noticed she had laugh lines and she was worried about obliterating the slightest trace. He’d told her she was being foolish . . . that she was beautiful to him the way she was. He’d tried to distract her by changing the subject, but five minutes later she’d commented that the majority of her friends thought he was only thirty-one or thirty-two when meeting him for the first time, not thirty-five. 

 

“It makes the gap in our ages seem even greater than it is,” she’d lamented.

 

It was a stupid conversation. When he’d first met Alyssa, he thought she was somewhere between thirty-eight and forty. When he’d discovered she’d been fifty (at the time) he’d been surprised but not enough to let it bother him. Yet, from the start, that difference in age had been a constant worry for her.

 

“I think you’re good for her,” Nicole countered. She looked at him sideways, her glance oddly appraising. “It hurts to admit it given how Ginny once felt about you, Lee, but Alyssa is the one you’re destined to be with. I think everyone at NIMR and on Seaview has come to that conclusion.” She smiled slyly. “We’re just waiting for you to realize it too.”

 

He frowned. This was not the way he wanted to end the year. “Who says I haven’t?”

 

She took another sip of her drink eyeing him across the top of the glass. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

 

“You’re her friend. You know how she feels about that.” She’d never come right out and said it, but Lee knew if he proposed, Alyssa would turn him down. Flat. And if that didn’t end their relationship, it would certainly put a strain on it. 

 

“So she’s a little hung up on her age.”

 

“A little?” Lee shook his head. “No. I’m not going to take a chance and ruin what I have. She means too much to me.”

 

Nicole sighed. “I understand. But it’s hard to be impartial when I see how obviously matched the two of you are.” She paused a beat, looking at him directly. “You think I’m being nosy, don’t you?”

 

“It crossed my mind.” He grinned as he said it, letting her off the hook. Nothing was going to rattle him tonight. Not even a discussion about the wife he couldn’t have.

 

“Fine.” Nicole glanced around the room. “Where’s your better half and my favorite Seaview officer?”

 

“By that I’m assuming you mean Chip Morton?”

 

“Who else? There’s a man I can say practically anything to and get away with it.”

 

It was true. Nicole and Chip had developed a friendship that was as much teasing banter as it was protective care for one another. Nicole had made it her mission in life to see him happily involved in a romantic relationship and had set him up with two of her friends before he’d met Deyanne Montgomery. Though Chip’s initial encounter with Dey had resulted in antagonistic sparks, he’d since grown attached to the free-spirited artist and had even admitted to Lee that she was “refreshingly different” from anyone he’d dated. Lee liked her too, which was a lot more than he could say for several of Chip’s girlfriends, including Dey’s predecessor, Beverly Cole. He was keeping his fingers crossed on this one.

 

“He stopped to pick up Dey.”

 

Nicole grinned, thrilled by the prospect. “I got to meet her last week and gave Chip my seal of approval. Of course if she ends up breaking his heart, I’ll have to do something special - - like sending her a moray eel.”

 

Lee raised an eyebrow. “Is that like getting a dead fish from the mob?”

 

“Close enough.” Nicole looked around. “Excuse me while I go steal Harry from Alyssa. I think it’s my turn to monopolize him for awhile. With Seaview leaving in a few days, I plan to keep him suitably distracted while I’ve got him.” She winked and sauntered away, so much different from the Nicole Rook he remembered. He wasn’t sure if it was meeting and falling in love with Nelson or making peace with the past that had changed her, but something had.

 

Ginny had chosen to disappear thirteen years ago. As far as Lee knew, neither Nicole nor her family had ever heard from her again. He felt badly for his part in what happened, but he knew he’d been foolish to blame himself and harbor guilt over circumstances he couldn’t control. He’d let that barrier build between him and Nicole for over a decade. It was good to feel it crumbling at last, even better to think of the friendship Nicole had formed with Alyssa. 

 

One year was passing into the next, but he felt only contentment when he thought of the future.

 

**********

 

“I don’t get it,” Chip said, holding the door for Dey as she stepped inside the reception area of NIMR’s meeting hall. Across the lobby two sets of open double doors spilled light and sound into the tastefully furnished foyer with its scattering of small sofas and potted plants. A mesh of voices, music and laughter floated from the banquet room, the party already in full swing. “You’ve been around Lee before.”

 

“On Seaview. At your house. Not in a social situation.”

 

“So?”

 

“So.” She drew her wrap closer, biting her lip as she looked up at him. “He’s your best friend. And I haven’t met her.” The emphasis was there again telling Chip exactly why Dey was behaving so out-of-character. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

 

“Alyssa?”

 

“You say it so nonchalantly.” Dey slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and pulled him forward, walking toward the open doors. “You do realize she’s a celebrity?”

 

Chip chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re star-struck?”

 

“It’s got nothing to do with that. It’s just - - well, look at me!” She waved her hand in frustration indicating her dress. “I’m out of my element, Chip. I should be in jeans with an easel, not tottering around in heels that make me feel like I’m going to get a nosebleed from the height.”

 

“Is that what this is all about?” He stopped abruptly as everything fell into place. Up ahead, he could see several couples gathered inside the open doors of the banquet hall, having just arrived. There was a bottleneck as they clustered together, saying hello, greeted no doubt by Nelson and Lee. Chip used the distraction to pull Dey down a connecting hallway and into an alcove behind the restrooms.

 

“What are you doing?” she protested.

 

“Trying to make sense of you. Listen to me, Deyanne...” God, she was tiny! Even wearing her “tottering” high heels, he still towered over her. “You look incredible, but you’d look just as incredible in paint-smudged jeans.” He gripped her chin and tilted her head up, struck as always by the mesmerizing tint of her violet eyes. “And get that nonsense out of your head about Alyssa. She might be a celebrity, but she’s got nothing on you. Trust me . . .” He lightened his tone and waggled his eyebrows. “It’s not just any woman who can turn my head.” Before she could protest, he kissed her lightly, keeping her chin cupped in his hand. Gradually, he felt her relax.

 

She uttered at soft sigh. “So you think I’m an idiot?”

 

He smiled against her lips before releasing her.

 

“Be careful how you answer that, Chip,” she warned, but her glance was teasing. 

 

“What if I said you’re my idiot?”

 

“I’d probably dismember you.”

 

“Not good,” he deadpanned. “Seaview’s got to sail in three days. Lee would be upset if you suddenly went Jack the Ripper on me.”

 

“Then you’d better come up with a nicer compliment. Besides . . .” She turned, sending him a sultry glance over her shoulder. “If I really look as hot as you say, I might be tempted to find my own idiot.”

 

“You’ve already got one,” Chip countered. Grinning, he slipped his arm around her waist and led her from the alcove. “Let’s go face the music, Dey. I want the whole Institute to know I’ve got the Belle of the Ball.”

 

***********

 

Alyssa Halston knew she should have probably remained in the receiving line with Lee, greeting Seaview’s crew, Institute personnel and guests as they arrived. But Dr. Shrewsberry from the marine mammals lab had asked for a dance shortly after stepping into the room, and she hadn’t the heart to refuse him - - despite the fact he was known as a notoriously dreadful dancer.

 

After a while, Harry had taken pity on her and cut in on Shrewsberry. She knew it would have been inappropriate for Lee to do so when he was expected to greet the arriving guests, but Harry was another matter. As owner of NIMR and the highest ranking officer present, he could pretty much do whatever he pleased without worry of reprisal or censure. Eventually, her friend, Nicole Rook, dragged Harry away and Alyssa found herself being asked to dance by Rick Kowalski.

 

“Um . . . would you like to dance, Miss Halston?” The rating nodded almost shyly toward the dance floor, looking awkward but dapper in his dark blue petty officer’s uniform.

 

She guessed he’d been egged on by some of his cohorts. As many social functions as she’d attended with Lee, no one from Seaview’s crew had ever asked her to dance - - with the exception of Harry, Chip and, occasionally, Will Jamieson. Even the junior officers steered clear of that social grace. It was as if being the “Captain’s Lady” made her off limits. No wonder Ski had a small audience hovering in the background. She could see Riley, Patterson, O’Malley and even Sharkey elbowing each other in the ribs as they watched. 

 

“I’d be delighted, Ski.” She knew his date, Veronica Morton, had been on a buying trip out of town for the gallery she co-owned with Deyanne Montgomery and wouldn’t be arriving until later that evening. With the group in the background going stag, they’d have no qualms involving him in their high-jinks. Given Kowalski was usually the most forward and outspoken of Lee’s crew, Alyssa had a feeling he’d been ‘volunteered’ by the others and wouldn’t have wanted to back down.

 

The band was currently playing Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to escort her onto the dance floor. 

 

“You don’t think Captain Crane will be upset, do you?” he asked with a worried glance toward the door.

 

“That you asked me to dance?” Alyssa followed his gaze, noting Lee stood with his back turned, greeting someone who’d just arrived. “Captain Crane will be glad you’re making me feel part of his extended family on Seaview.” She slid her hand onto his shoulder, and he cupped her waist, guiding her through the opening notes of the dance. 

 

“Is that what I’m doing?” The hesitancy left his face, replaced by a boyish smile. “We all like you, Ms. Halston. It’s just we think you’re out of our league.” 

 

“Maybe if you called me Alyssa you wouldn’t feel that way.”

 

“I’m not sure I can do that. Ms. Halston. That would be like calling the skipper by his first name.”

 

Alyssa laughed. “That’s too much of a stretch. There’s no rank attached to mine.”

 

“No. Just class and glamour.” He grinned. He was actually very smooth - - not just with conversation but as a dancer too. It suddenly occurred to her that a good portion of the room had stopped to watch them and that most of the other couples had drifted away, giving them the center of the dance floor.

 

“We seem to have drawn some attention,” she observed.

 

Ski took a quick glance around, faltering only slightly as color crept up his face. “The skipper isn’t going to like this, Ms. Halston.”

 

Alyssa looked in Lee’s direction and saw he was grinning appreciatively. “Actually, I think he’s enjoying it. You’re a very good dancer, Ski. You should have asked me before.”

 

The blush grew brighter. “Thanks.” He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

 

Accustomed to putting people at ease, Alyssa picked a safer thread for conversation. “I understand you’ll be part of the skeleton crew when Seaview leaves in three days.” 

 

It didn’t really surprise her. Lee tended to rely on Kowalski a good deal and made a point to include him on the roster whenever there was a special cruise. She knew this one was relatively simple - - providing transportation for Dr. Clarice Stockton to a World Science Conference in Brussels - - hence the pared down crew. Harry would be attending of course and, surprisingly, an invitation had been extended to Alyssa and Lee from the reigning monarch. It had been twenty years since she’d last been to Brussels, but she felt flattered to be included. According to Harry, both the king and his wife were familiar with her career and had invited her to tour the city as their guest while the conference was taking place. One didn’t say ‘no’ to royalty even at the sunset of a career, so there was no question Alyssa was going.

 

“The skipper asked me if I wanted to be on the roster,” Kowalski was saying, “After the long holiday break - - with Christmas and now New Years - - I’m ready for a tour of duty, even if it’s a short one. I hear you’re going with us.”

 

“Yes.” She knew Seaview was a man’s domain and women passengers were sometimes viewed as bothersome. Nicole said it stemmed from folklore and an old sailing superstition that having females on board was bad luck. She grinned up at Kowalski. “You’ll have two women on the boat, Ski.” 

 

He rolled his eyes, but it was clearly for show. Around them the dance floor was getting crowded again as couples began to filter back onto the floor. Another group had just arrived at the door, commanding Lee’s attention. 

 

“Have you met Dr. Stockton?” she asked Ski.

 

He shook his head. “All I know is she’s some kind of recluse according to the admiral. Brilliant but eccentric. Word is she’s had a couple of death threats and that’s why we’re doing chauffeur duty to the conference.”

 

Alyssa had heard the same thing. Over the last two months there had even been several small news items related to the threats. She’d met Dr. Stockton on two occasions at the Institute and had later joined her for dinner with Lee, Harry and Nicole Rook. She found the scientist poised and cultured, an attractive fiftyish woman, nothing like the retiring introvert she’d been expecting. Clarice’s current project involved research on a medical compound she hoped would aid in retarding cancer growth.

 

“Look there...” Ski suddenly nodded in the direction of the doorway. “Dey and Mister Morton have arrived. I know Veronica will be glad to see them when she gets here.”

 

Alyssa followed his glance. She knew Chip had been dating Deyanne Montgomery for several weeks now, but she’d never actually met the woman. Knowing how close Lee was to Chip, she’d been looking forward to making Dey’s acquaintance, especially since Lee seemed to like her.

 

“Oh!” The soft exclamation slipped from her lips before she could stop it. She hadn’t expected Dey to be quite so young. She’d just naturally assumed the girl would be near Chip’s age, but she looked barely older than Veronica.

 

“Is something wrong?” Kowalski asked.

 

“No. Nothing.” The dance drew to a close, and it gave her a reason to bow out. “I should say hello to Commander Morton,” she said as the music ended and they stepped apart. “Thank you for the dance, Ski.”

 

He flashed a breezy grin. “My pleasure, Ms. Halston.” 

 

From the corner of her eye, she saw Riley give him a thumb’s up. She had a sneaking suspicion that before the night was over several of Lee’s crew would be asking her to dance now that the ice had officially been broken. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be as awkward as Dr. Shrewsberry, stepping on her toes then apologizing even as he did it over again. It would be nice to feel included, given how close Lee was to his crew. She didn’t want to remain an outsider, the woman who lived in a red-carpet world of flashbulbs and society debuts. But it was hard breaking through barriers. Making it even harder was her age. She was old enough to be Kowalski’s mother. The same with Riley, Patterson and most of the others - - including, no doubt, Chip’s new girlfriend.

 

She squelched the flutter of depression she felt and headed for the door to say hello. There were certain things she needed to learn to live with, and being a fifty-one year old woman in love with a thirty-five year old man was one of those.

 

**********

 

Several hours later, with the time nearing midnight, Alyssa stood with Lee watching the second hand on the large clock at the front of the banquet hall move closer to twelve. The room was filled with the electrical charge of excitement as the crowd counted down the seconds to the New Year:  “. . . seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!” A soft rainfall of balloons and confetti dropped from the ceiling to a chorus of noise-makers and cries of “Happy New Year!” Alyssa felt herself swept into Lee’s arms, surprised to find his kiss a little more than casual. Seconds later he drew back, smiling down on her.

 

“Happy New Year, Darling.”

 

She was struck momentarily speechless by the sight of his smile. That smile. The one that made her heart melt and sucked the breath from her lungs. She loved when he looked like that, pure delight on his face, his eyes sparkling with color and warmth. It made her go weak in the knees like a schoolgirl on her first date. In a flash she realized how desperately, completely and eternally she loved him.

 

“Happy New Year, Lee.” 

 

He kissed her again then clicked his glass of champagne to hers. They drank a toast as the band struck up Auld Lang Syne. Around them, the crowd started to mingle, sharing wishes for the New Year as confetti continued to flutter from overhead. The balloons made an airy covering on the wooden dance floor, the jumble of laughter, goodwill and gaiety contagious.

 

“Lee.” Suddenly Nelson was there, gripping her captain’s hand and clapping him on the back. “Happy New Year, lad.” 

 

“And to you, Sir.” 

 

Lee’s smile never dimmed. She wished she could capture the moment in time for eternity, sensing how content he was. She exchanged hugs and best wishes with Harry and Nicole then began circulating with Lee wishing ‘Happy New Year’ to the crew. 

 

Ten minutes later, she was dancing with Lee to the Commodores Three Times a Lady when she realized she hadn’t seen Chip or Dey in the crowd.

 

***********

 

“So what do you think?” Chip asked.

 

Dey wasn’t sure what to think. She expected he would want to be inside with his friends and coworkers as the time neared midnight but instead he’d dragged her outside and down to the dock, anxious to show her Seaview at night. She’d seen the sub before, she’d even been a passenger, but she’d never seen the sleek gray vessel haloed by moonlight. She was surprised to feel a tiny thrill, part pleasure and part awe.

 

“It’s . . . beautiful,” she admitted, surprised to hear a catch in her voice. The artist in her tended to look past surface impressions, searching deeper for feeling and emotion. The sub was majestic and powerful, but inspired a strange sense of sadness at the same time.

 

Chip stood with his arm hooked around her waist, his eyes filled with pride as he looked over the boat. “I enjoy the holidays, but it’s been too long since she’s been at sea,” he said.

 

Dey knew what he really meant was ‘since I’ve been at sea.’ 

 

“It should be an interesting cruise for you,” she commented, “with Alyssa and Dr. Stockton onboard. Did you know she has a side interest in fine arts?”

 

Chip raised an eyebrow. “You mean Dr. Stockton?”

 

Dey nodded. “I was shocked too. She published a book over a decade ago comparing research science to art. Very obscure and tedious even for someone like me to plod through. I found it in a stack of second-hand books at a flea market.”

 

“So, in other words, it bombed?”

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

“She must be riveting,” Chip said dryly.

 

“You’re horrible,” Dey quipped in turn, but grinned at his appraisal. “It just means the book had a limited circulation and a small audience. I’m going to give it to you so you can have her autograph it for me.”

 

“I thought you said you had to plod through it?”

 

“That’s beside the point. I still want her autograph. I’ll make sure you have it before you leave.”

 

“Hmm.” He smiled down on her, his blue eyes dancing. “Are you going to miss me when I ship out?”

 

“Maybe.” She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against him, a sly smile teasing her lips. “I’ll do my best to stay occupied while you’re gone.”

 

“I can think of a few things to occupy us now.” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

 

An electric thrill shot through her when he nuzzled her ear. It amazed her how quickly he could send her pulse racing . . . how smitten she’d become with a man who was her direct opposite in most every way.  

 

Unlike the flighty, temperamental men she’d dated in the past, Chip was grounded and practical. He tended to react with careful thought before emotion, but that wasn’t to say he didn’t have moments. She remembered the first time she’d met him and how everything about him had rubbed her the wrong way. She’d thought him bullheaded and belligerent, unable to see anyone’s viewpoint but his own. There’d definitely been sparks between them, but solely of a combative nature. Being on Seaview with him had allowed her to see another side of him - - including how much the crew respected him and how much Lee Crane relied on him. Not just as a highly competent executive officer but as a loyal friend and a pseudo big brother.

 

She’d come to realize strength and determination were key parts of Chip’s personality. But it was his stringent sense of honor she found most compelling of all. She’d never dated a man who was so highly principled, who stood by his word, and who held to an almost antiquated code of chivalry.

 

When it came right down to it, the man turned her to mush.  

 

And it certainly didn’t hurt that he was so well put together - - a Nordic dream with his short-cropped platinum hair, iced blue eyes and athlete’s physique. She wondered if he’d been a runner in school. Then she simply couldn’t think any more because his lips were on hers, and her heart started thumping in her ribcage. How did he do that?

 

A sudden din washed over her, the faraway sound of noise makers and cheers. She could hear people singing accompanied by the distant strains of Auld Lang Syne.

 

Chip drew back, smiling down at her. “I think it’s midnight.”

 

Content, she stayed snuggled in his arms, her face tilted up toward his. “You timed your kiss perfectly.” She regretted having to ask the question that followed but she was the ‘new girl’ on the block and she didn’t want her behavior reflecting badly on Chip. “Do you think we should go back inside?”

 

“Eventually.” He kissed her again, more deeply this time and she felt her toes curl. She liked the fact he was so tall, that she could melt into his chest, enveloped by his arms. Something about the way he held her made her feel equally sensual and cherished. She lost herself in the sensation, startled from her reverie seconds later when a soft weeping intruded.

 

“Do you hear that?” She stilled as the sound came to her on the breeze.

 

Chip paused, raising his head. “What?”

 

“Listen.” Dey drew back, but there was only the lap of water against the dock, the distant noise of the party. From far away came the lowing of a fog horn over the bay. “I thought . . .” She’d heard it, was certain she had. “For a moment I thought I heard a woman crying.”

 

“On New Year’s Eve?” Chip looked around. “Dey, there’s no one here but us.”

 

She stepped away and walked to the edge of the dock, looking at the submarine bathed in moonlight. The sense of sadness she’d felt earlier returned, burrowing deeper. “I could have sworn,” she whispered.

 

Chip moved behind her and slipped his hands onto her shoulders. “Maybe we should go back inside,” he suggested. “Lee and the admiral will be looking for me.”

 

She nodded vacantly. The sound had been so sad, mournfully heart wrenching. It lingered but a single second, snatched away before she could pinpoint the source. Why did she think it emanated with the sub? Chilled, she shivered. 

 

“Dey, are you all right?”

 

She forced a smile, startled to realize the elation she’d felt in Chip’s arms had been dimmed by the memory of the woman’s eerie weeping. “Fine. I just . . . it was so strange.”

 

Chip gave a soft snort. “It was probably just the wind, Dey. Come on...” He grinned and hugged her close, turning her away from the dock. “Let’s go back inside and see what everyone is doing.”

 

She nodded, shooting a parting glance back over her shoulder where Seaview was silent and still, cloaked in the spectral kiss of moonlight.

 

**********

 

As planned, Seaview readied for departure three days later, a pared-down crew of 42 in place. Lee arrived early due to pre-departure meetings and checks but sent Kowalski in an Institute car to pick up Alyssa at his beach house. The rating reported to him in the control room as the sub was readying to depart.

 

“Ms. Halston is aboard, Sir. Guest Cabin C near yours.”

 

“And Dr. Stockton?”

 

“Guest Cabin A. I believe both ladies are planning to visit the observation nose.”

 

“Very good, Kowalski. Man the sonar station and stand by to answer bells.”

 

“Aye, Sir.”

 

In short order the sub had cleared the harbor and was headed out to sea.

 

Twenty minutes later Lee heard the clack of descending footsteps on the spiral stairs and glanced up from the plotting table. The admiral descended, followed by Clarice Stockton and Alyssa. The research scientist immediately moved to the observation windows, watching as white-tipped breakers churned against the sub’s nose.

 

“You’re not running submerged,” she observed aloud.

 

“Not yet.” Lee left the plotting table to join the other three. He shared a brief, but warm glance with Alyssa keeping his hands clasped behind his back. “We have plenty of time to make our ETA. We’ll submerge shortly, but right now we’re running a few equipment tests that require us to remain on the surface.” 

 

Troubled, Clarice looked at Nelson. “I thought everything was already checked and in order?”

 

“It is,” the admiral assured. “What Captain Crane is referring to are routine tests we run at the start of every cruise. I assure you there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 

She smiled, mildly embarrassed. “You’ll have to excuse me. I feel like I’m looking around every corner and behind every rock. I guess the death threats have made me unusually anxious.”

 

“That’s entirely understandable,” Lee said. The woman looked more than a little frazzled. He’d only met her on a few occasions but had been struck by her presence and poise. Now she appeared nervous, almost agitated. Even so, she was a striking woman, her flaxen hair cut short, the pale strands liberally threaded with silver. Her skin was smooth, warmed by a creamy tint of honey, making it difficult to judge her age.

 

“I’m sure the sub is secure, Captain.” Clarice sent him an apologetic glance, her eyes a vivid blend of aquamarine and silver. If the threats on her life were as numerous as he’d been lead to believe, she’d probably had little sleep over the last few weeks. “I didn’t mean to imply . . .” She shook her head, chagrined by an inability to explain.

 

“Of course you didn’t,” Alyssa said quickly, coming to her rescue. “You’ve been caught in a frightening situation. I don’t understand why anyone would want to stop you from working on a drug that would rid the world of a terrible disease.”

 

“Because pharmaceuticals are big business,” Clarice explained with a sad shake of her head. “It isn’t simply a matter of helping people. It’s who gets there first - - who secures the patent and testing approval and how it all parlays into cash. In any event, it’s nice to feel safe for a change and to know the scare tactics didn’t work. I’m still going to the Brussels Conference.” She smiled sheepishly. “Even if it is with my own military escort.” 

 

Nelson chuckled. “Trust me, Dr. Stockton, we’ve been termed much worse.” He extended his arm. “Would you like to see the rest of the submarine? Perhaps the science lab I told you about?”

 

“That would be delightful, Admiral. And pleasantly distracting.”

 

As they moved deeper into the control room, Alyssa stepped closer to Lee. “I know you’re on duty. Will I get to see you at the end of your watch?” 

 

He liked the way she smiled up at him, her eyes dancing. They hadn’t been on the submarine together since she’d won Lydia Starke’s charity cruise. At the time, Lee had done everything he could to keep their relationship secret, even going so far as to treat her aloofly in front of his crew. Unfortunately, the charade hadn’t lasted long. He’d ended up making a spectacle of himself, kissing her in the observation nose to the utter chagrin of the admiral and the amusement of the watch crew.

 

Had that really been over eighteen months ago?

 

“I think I can fit you into my schedule,” he said with a grin. He caught her hand, giving her fingers a faint squeeze. Ever since his unplanned exhibitionist behavior in front of the crew - - or as Nelson had put it - - ‘doing a Valentino impersonation,’ he tended to be reserved with his affection in public.

 

She smiled, enjoying his teasing. “That’s generous of you. I might even reciprocate if you’re lucky. When does your watch end?” 

 

“I have a break at 1300. How about lunch?”

 

“Are you asking me for a date, Captain Crane?”

 

“If meatloaf and gravy in the officer’s mess passes muster.”

 

Her smile grew brighter. “You’ll spoil me with all that fine dining. 1300 can’t come soon enough. I’ll see you then.”

 

Lee watched her breeze from the control room, several of the crew nodding hello as she walked past. It was amazing how she knew exactly what to say to make him retain that lighter-than-air feeling. There was no question they’d had their share of hurdles in the past, but suddenly all he could see was the future and how much he wanted them to be together. Not just now, but for all the tomorrows to come.

 

“You know,” Chip said, appearing suddenly at his side. “It’s only an observation, but your face is an open book when you’re watching her. Just for the record, the crew has been enjoying the show.”

 

Lee came back to himself with a start, realizing he’d been caught staring at the hatchway through which Alyssa departed. He caught Kowalski and a few others grinning and ducking their heads. 

 

“Okay, Mister Morton.” Lee scuffed a hand over the back of his neck, acknowledging his friend’s humor. “Show’s over. Check status and prepare to dive. Ninety feet.”

 

“Ninety feet. Aye, Sir.” Chip turned away but not without a spark of laughter in his eyes. 

 

Lee had the feeling it was going to be an interesting and entertaining cruise.

 

***********

 

Alyssa had forgotten how deferential the crew was, especially on the boat. Lee’s men always treated her respectfully, but on Seaview they made it a point to look out for her. If there was any grumbling about having women aboard, neither she nor Clarice picked up on it. She was grateful for the other woman’s company and was certain Clarice felt the same. Seaview was a marvel of engineering and design, but unless you were actively involved in her operations, there wasn’t a great deal to keep you occupied.

 

She would have enjoyed lingering in the nose and watching the seascape through the windows but didn’t want to be a distraction for Lee. She knew he would go about his work professionally and competently, but she couldn’t say the same. She would have liked nothing better than to watch him, simply observing the career she found so fascinating, but she sensed the crew would get too much of a kick out of it. He was a far cry from the photographers, fashion designers and image consultants who made up her everyday world. Completely different, he was a man who commanded loyalty and respect, strikingly handsome, unbendingly principled. She knew there was a darker side to him - - cold and lethal as steel - - but that was a Lee Crane she rarely if ever saw. The ONI operative who thrived on danger was, thankfully, becoming a thing of the past. He no longer needed the adrenalin rush, or felt the crushing responsibility to set himself up as a target every time a covert ops mission surfaced. He’d learned to step back and let someone else assume the risks for a change.

 

It hadn’t taken more than a few dates before she realized how driven he was to excel, setting impossible goals for himself. He still couldn’t concede to second-best, a fatal flaw that had given her more than one restless night. At thirty-five, he hadn’t learned to accept failure or even fragility. In many ways his stubbornness and determination reminded her of Harry.

 

Except Lee was harder on himself, unforgiving at times. No matter the strides he made in his professional life, his past still haunted him - - a father who’d died when he was just a child and a stepfather who’d despised him. She knew he’d had a lonely, wretched childhood and could only pray that in some way she helped offset that now. 

 

When it came right down to it, she was completely smitten with the man, so head-over-heels in love she felt like a giddy schoolgirl whenever he so much as glanced in her direction. She knew he wasn’t completely ignorant of his charm and charisma, or the effect he had on most women but, unlike a lot of egotists she knew, he’d never let that magnetism go to his head. He could have made a mint as a male model or leading man in Hollywood with his long-lashed liquid-crystal eyes, arresting features and tall, slender physique, but he’d chosen to be a submariner. She got a thrill out of just watching him in the control room of Seaview but didn’t want to come off as a fanatical teenage groupie with a crush. As a result, she kept herself occupied elsewhere, reading or visiting with Harry when he wasn’t immersed in some project or other and, of course, there was Clarice.

 

She was pleased when Dr. Stockton and Harry joined her and Lee for lunch in the officer’s ward room. Though Cookie’s meatloaf and gravy wouldn’t earn any gourmet food awards, it was actually quite good, especially when paired with a side of green beans and mashed potatoes. Eventually the men left - - Lee to return to the control room and Harry to his lab. In no rush to depart, Alyssa and Clarice lingered over coffee.

 

“You seem very happy with Lee,” the research scientist commented. 

 

Startled, Alyssa set her cup down, glancing across the table at the other woman. “Pardon?”

 

“I’m sorry.” Clarice smiled, her vivid aquamarine eyes crinkling at the corners. “Did I say something out of line? I thought it was common knowledge the two of you were a couple. I’ve seen a few of the society pages and even Admiral Nelson commented on it.”

 

“He did?” Alyssa was used to being the subject of gossip - - fame came with a cumbersome price tag - - but it threw her off guard to imagine Harry discussing her relationship with Lee. With a relative stranger on top of it!

 

Clarice reached across the table and patted her hand. “Don’t look so shocked. I know the two of you were married once. He’s obviously happy you found someone. I think he’s just. . .” She trailed off and lowered her eyes. Silent, she spooned sugar into her coffee, a slight crease appearing on her brow. “Please don’t tell him I told you, but I think he’s worried about the future. For you and Lee. You know . . .” She gave a slight inclination of her head as though reluctantly parting with a secret. “The difference in your ages.”

 

Alyssa fought the urge to blanch. “He said that?”

 

“I don’t think he meant to. It just slipped out. I’ve heard how he feels about Captain Crane and he obviously cares for you. It’s only natural he’d have reservations.”

 

“Dr. Stockton, I’m not sure I appreciate this conversation.”

 

“Oh, please, don’t take it the wrong way.” The woman’s face crumpled with a stricken look. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I think you and Captain Crane make such an elegant couple and, since I’ve been involved with...” She stopped abruptly, her expression growing pinched.

 

“Involved with what?” Alyssa persisted.

 

Clarice waved the unspoken thought aside. “It doesn’t matter. It was foolish of me to even bring it up. It was never my intent to overstep my bounds.” She stood gracefully, but her expression remained pained. “I guess being a recluse for so many years has made me forget how to act around others. Please don’t say anything to Admiral Nelson. I’d feel dreadful if he knew I’d picked up on his thoughts. Excuse me.” Before Alyssa could reply, Clarice turned and walked swiftly from the room. 

 

Still reeling from the conversation, Alyssa stared after her, her fingers tightening on the hard ceramic of her cup. There it was again - - the same ugly accusation that had haunted her from the start. No matter what she did, no matter how much she denied it, it kept coming back, rearing its ugly head like a fatalistic curse.

 

She was too old for Lee.

 

Her stomach tightened in a knot. The smut sheets sneered at the difference in their ages and even the society page, with its supposedly high-brow readership, found ways to make sly sexual innuendos related to that gap. Lee’s own mother had confronted her about their relationship, saying Lee was too young given her age. Then there was the Institute’s New Year’s Eve party. Lee’s best friend, Chip, had shown up with a girl who looked barely out of college. She was happy for Chip and Dey, but who was she kidding? The reality was Lee should be dating someone the same age.

 

He might love her and she might love him, but there was too much stacked against them. If she really cared about him she would end their relationship so he could have a future with someone else.

 

Except, God help her . . .

 

She didn’t want to let go.

 

**********

 

Lee’s watch ran much later than he anticipated. He found himself doing double duty when a series of small misfortunes plagued the sub, one after another. Communications grew spotty, funneling in and out for no apparent reason, and the temperature sensory array in the reactor went haywire. The latter took several hours to get under control, but the former was still giving them fits, Sparks every bit as perplexed as the rest of them. Right before he headed off watch, the environmental controls went into a tailspin and, before Lee knew it, the time had inched past 2200 hours. By 2222 the sub was running smoothly - - at least for the time being - - and Lee finally called it a night.

 

He did a quick round of the boat, his regular habit when going off-shift. He was almost done, in the corridor outside the photo lab, when he felt a presence he hadn’t sensed in a long time. A phantom caress brushed across his cheek awakening memories of the hot summer sun and a sparkling bay hemmed by soft sands and sea oats. He remembered a woman with silver-white hair and eyes like the North Sea at dawn. 

 

Lee felt his mouth grow dry. It simply wasn’t possible. She’d left him, told him they would never meet again. “Mae?” he whispered aloud, hearing the tremor in his voice.

 

But there was nothing in return, the absolute silence of the passageway ringing in his ears. Feeling abruptly foolish, he shook aside the distraction. It had been a long day, a long shift. What he needed was a few hours of sleep in his rack but, more than that, he needed Alyssa. He couldn’t spend the night with her - - wouldn’t even think of making love to her on Seaview, but he could hold her in his arms, inhale her scent and hug her lithe body to his. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her . . . to plunge his hands into the rich autumn cascade of her hair. Just thinking about the way she’d respond, the soft, eager sound she so often made deep in her throat when he caressed her brought a restless stirring below his belt.  

 

At sea it was usually easy to distance himself from his need for her, to imagine a sweet and lavishly sensual reunion when he returned to port. But she was near now, within a hand’s- breadth - - a touch, a kiss, yet still off limits in a way that would shortly drive him mad. He would be glad when they got to Brussels and had a room with a bed and privacy. He’d be able to show her exactly how much he loved her. How much he’d always love her.

 

If she’d just get over her damn hang-ups about age and marry him, he’d consider himself the luckiest man on the planet. Sometimes it hurt knowing she’d married Nelson but wouldn’t think of marrying him. Granted, that marriage had ended twenty-some years before, and she’d been Allison Hagan at the time, a starry-eyed girl only dreaming of fame, but the fact was she had married Nelson. She’d consented to be his wife, walked down the aisle, and said ‘I do.’ Then after Nelson she’d done it again, marrying some two-timing slime ball who’d cheated on her, not once, but twice. 

 

Yet as much as she professed to love him, any time Lee so much as hinted at marriage, she threw up fences. He’d wanted to ask her on Valentine’s Day, had even thought of buying a ring. But more than rejection he feared what her refusal would do to their relationship. And so as hard as it was, as much as he wanted a life with her, he gave her time and space, hoping eventually she would realize her age was inconsequential to him. 

 

For now, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and kiss her.

 

Restless, Lee headed for her cabin.

 

***********

 

“Alyssa?” Lee knocked softly. When there was no answer to his inquiry, he pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly-lit cabin. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, the only light coming from a desk lamp in the corner. 

 

Spying a waterfall of fiery red hair on the bunk, he closed the door behind him. At first he thought she was sleeping, curled on her side in a pearl-gray dressing gown. Then he saw the way she was balled up like a wounded animal, her bare feet peeking from beneath the folds of shimmery satin, a wad of tissues clutched in her hand. 

 

“Lyss?” Lee’s heart lurched to his throat. He was across the cabin in three quick strides, every protective instinct he had kicking into overdrive. “Darling, what’s wrong?” He brushed a clinging veil of hair from her cheek, the normally silky strands stuck fast with tears. Alarmed, he sat on the edge of the bunk and drew her upright. “Alyssa, what’s happened?”

 

“Lee.” It was almost as if she was shocked to see him. She shook her head, trying to look away. Judging by her appearance, she’d been crying for some time. “Nothing. I...”

 

“Don’t tell me nothing.” His voice was harsher than he intended, concern making the words unnaturally sharp. Recognizing his tone, he forced himself to be gentler. “Lyss. Please. Tell me what’s happened.”

 

She shook her head again, dropping her eyes as she kneaded the balled-up tissue between her fingers. “I’m just being silly.”

 

“Something upset you,” he persisted.

 

“It was only a discussion.”

 

“What discussion?”

 

She drew away, tucking her bare feet close and hugging her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it. It won’t do any good.”

 

He was starting to grow increasingly alarmed, more than a little suspicious. It someone on the crew had done something to upset her, made an off-color comment or insolent advance, he’d have their head on a platter. “Did one of crew...”

 

“No,” she said quickly. “They’re perfect gentlemen, Lee. Every last one of them. It’s Harry...” She stopped abruptly, realizing she’d said too much.

 

Lee was certain he’d heard wrong. “The admiral?”

 

She hedged, awkward with the truth. “Please, Lee. Let’s just forget it.”

 

He couldn’t. Especially not now. Not when he knew whatever had upset her was tied to the man he thought of as a father. Sometimes it was hard treading all the lines - - captain, subordinate officer, employee, and son. Complicating it further was the fact Nelson was Alyssa’s ex-husband. He’d loved her, slept with her, had once tried to build a life with her. As much as the three of them had made peace with the present circumstances - - Lee and Alyssa’s relationship - - Lee couldn’t help feeling an occasional twinge of jealousy. 

 

He was only human. As much as he’d tried not to . . . as much as he fought to crush the thought whenever it surfaced, he couldn’t help occasionally wonder how Alyssa compared him to Nelson. In all things. In bed. He hated himself for being so damn pathetically human but the insecurity was there. She’d had them both, slept with them both, loved them both. She still loved Nelson, but it was with affection and warmth, not the soul-sapping romantic love she shared with Lee. What could the admiral have possibly done to upset her?

 

“Lyss.” Lee slipped an index finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. “I want to know what happened,” he said evenly. “I’m not leaving until you tell me.” 

 

With a defeated sigh, Alyssa dropped her feet over the side of the bunk and stood. Barefoot, she paced across the cabin, grabbing a matching pearl-gray robe from the back of the desk chair. She shrugged into the garment, clutching her long hair in one hand to raise it above the collar before shaking it loose. “It was something Clarice told me,” she said at last, her back turned.

 

Lee stood. “Dr. Stockton?” He didn’t understand the connection to Nelson.

 

Alyssa nodded, trailing a hand over the back of the desk chair as she walked behind it to face him. “We were talking and she said . . . Harry made a comment . . . about us.” 

 

“You and me?”

 

Alyssa sniffled and dabbed her eyes. “Yes. She said he didn’t mean to, but he let it slip he was worried about our future together . . . because of . . .” She bit her lip, fresh tears glittering on the surface of her silver-gray eyes. Unable to finish, she folded one arm across her stomach, and pressed her hand to her mouth, the wad of tissue balled in her fist. “He thinks I’m too old for you,” she blurted at last. “And he’s right, Lee!”

 

“God, not this again.” He didn’t mean to say it the way it sounded, but the wounded look on her face told him he’d blundered. He crossed to her side and tried to take her arm, but she turned her back on him, shoulders shaking. “Alyssa, I didn’t mean it like that; it’s just we’ve talked about this. Again and again. You have to get over this insecurity about your age. What do I have to do to convince you that I love you? That I’ll always love you?”

 

“Don’t you see?” Her voice cracked. “It isn’t enough. Even your mother...”  She stopped abruptly.

 

Lee felt himself grow cold. “What about my mother?” He gripped her under the arm and spun her around, refusing to let her ignore him. A bitter knot of suspicion formed in the pit of his stomach. “You told me everything was fine with her.”

 

They’d visited Ellen Crane last Christmas. Lee had been worried about the two women in his life meeting for the first time, but neither had given any indication of a problem, even when they’d gone for a ‘girl’s lunch’ without him. All this time, he’d thought the visit had been a success.

 

“Alyssa, what aren’t you telling me?”

 

She raised her eyes, her lashes wet and tipped with tears. “I didn’t want to upset you, Lee. I knew how important it was for you that we get along.”

 

“What did she say to you?” 

 

Alyssa drew a shuddery breath. “She said I was too old for you. That when you’re sixty I’ll be nearing eighty. That I needed to do the responsible thing and end our relationship before you get hurt.” The last few words disintegrated into a fresh bout of tears. Bowing her head, Alyssa sobbed into the remnants of the frayed and sodden tissue.

 

Lee swore softly. Not at her, but at what his mother had done to her - - what she was still doing. And Nelson - - what business did he have telling a virtual stranger he thought Alyssa was too old. Damn, why couldn’t everyone just leave them alone and stop fueling her insecurities? It was bad enough they had to field that kind of garbage from the press, but he expected better of his friends and family. Nelson might be his boss and Alyssa’s ex-husband, but Lee had every intention of setting him straight and telling him to mind his own business. 

 

“Here.” He withdrew his handkerchief and pressed it into her hands. 

 

Sniffling, she folded against him, burying her face in his chest. “I wish it could be different,” she sobbed. “I wish I’d been born twenty years later.”

 

“Maybe you do, but I don’t.” He tipped her chin up, gently brushing several clinging strands of tear-dampened hair from her face. “Lyss, I’m always going to love you no matter how old you are, no matter how old I am. I can’t say it any plainer than that.” And then the words he’d kept locked inside, that he’d planned to share at just the right moment on bended knee with a ring, came spilling out. “I want to marry you.”

 

Alyssa moaned like a wounded animal and turned away. “Lee, don’t do this.”

 

“You know how I feel about you.”

 

“Please don’t do this.” 

 

He caught her arm and turned her around, forcibly dragging her against him. Terrified, he feared he’d made the ultimate blunder. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t ask her until she was ready. But his strategy was shot to hell, their relationship on the line. He knotted his fingers in her hair, desperation making him rough when he kissed her. “If you don’t love me, say it now,” he demanded, holding her locked in place.

 

Her face was upturned to his, the misery in her eyes a mirror of his own. She sobbed in earnest, and he felt as if something irreparable ripped between them.

 

“I’m sorry.” Why the hell did he have to go and bring up marriage? He crushed her against him and buried his face in her hair, holding her tight. “Ssh,” he soothed. “I didn’t mean it. I just want us to have a future together.”     

 

“Don’t you see?” Her voice was choked with tears, muffled by his shirt. “It’s been flawed from the start. That day at the charity auction - - it was just supposed to be dinner. I never should have said yes when you asked me for a second date. I knew you were too young. I keep pretending it doesn’t matter - - we­ keep pretending - - but everyone around us knows it does. The press, your mother, Harry. . .”

 

“All right, that’s enough.” His voice was gentle but firm. The frustration and anger he’d felt seconds before had been smothered by a determination to put the argument behind them. He vowed to have one hell of a talk with Nelson when he was through. And the next time he was in port and called his mother he wouldn’t be sparing her feelings the way he usually did. “We’re not going to talk about this anymore. I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks, including my mother and your ex-husband. I love you and that’s final.”

 

She stared up at him with watery eyes. “I love you too.”

 

“Good.” He thumbed tears from her cheeks and kissed her gently. “I want you to forget about this and get some sleep. I’ll stay with you if you’d like.”

 

“No.” She sniffled, dabbing her eyes again. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you, Lee. I know you have a boat to run and a mission to complete. I’ll be fine.”

 

He wasn’t sure he believed her. At the very least, he didn’t want to leave. “Come on.” He led her to the bunk where he helped her out of her robe, then held back the blankets for her to crawl underneath. He was still angry, seething at Nelson for causing her such distress, but he kept the heat from his eyes. Leaning forward, he pulled the sheets up around her and touched his lips to her forehead. 

 

She locked her arms around his neck. “I really do love you,” she insisted in desperation. “I just can’t marry you.”

 

“I know.” He kissed her softly, parting her lips beneath his. He had his answer, one that hurt more deeply than he’d imagined, hearing her say it. “But I’m not going to let you walk away from what we do have. If this is the only future you’ll give me, I’ll learn to live with it.”

 

She looked up at him, her eyes watery and pained. “It’s not fair to you.”

 

“It’s my choice, Alyssa. And I’ve made it.”  

 

**********

 

He was angry. Not just because of what Nelson had said but, because by saying it, Lee had been forced into asking Alyssa to marry him before either of them was ready. He was still convinced if he’d just had more time - - if the moment had been right instead of compulsory - - he could have brought her around to his way of thinking. Now there wasn’t any chance of that. She’d refused his proposal point-blank, destroying the lighter-than-air feeling he’d been riding since New Year’s Eve. The cruise, the stay in Brussels . . . everything he’d been looking forward to was buried beneath a knot of depression and anger.

 

Lee banged his closed fist against the door of Nelson’s cabin, his temper spiking. He reached for the knob, thrusting inside just as Nelson called for him to enter. As expected, the admiral was still up, a hodge-podge of papers and books spread open on his desk. Seated, he scribbled a notation on a yellow legal tablet already lined with random notes and looked up.

 

“Lee.” Nelson’s emerging smile faltered, twisting into a frown. “You look upset. What’s wrong?”

 

Slamming the door behind him, Lee stalked into the cabin and towered over the desk. His anger spilled without preamble. “You might be my boss and my superior officer. You might even think of me as your son, but that doesn’t give you the right to discuss my future or my love life with a stranger. From now on, I expect you to mind your own business. Sir.”

 

“What?” Nelson’s shock filtered through in an incredulous laugh. “Lee, slow down. What are you talking about?”

 

“What you told Clarice Stockton about Alyssa.”

 

“What I . . .” Nelson repeated the words, trying to make sense of them. His confusion was clear, but Lee was too incensed to give it much thought. 

 

“Being Alyssa’s ex-husband doesn’t give you the license to dissect our relationship. Damn it, Admiral! You have no idea the damage you’ve done with a single thoughtless remark.”

 

“Now wait just a minute.” Anger replaced Nelson’s bewilderment. He stood, his expression belligerent and hard, temper getting the better of him. “If you’re going to accuse me of something, stop talking nonsense and say it plainly. Have you forgotten how to address a senior officer, Mister?”

 

Lee stiffened. “This isn’t about the boat.”

 

“And that should excuse your insolence?”

 

“You tell me how I’m supposed to react, Sir.”

 

“Hang it, man!” Nelson’s voice cracked with the whiplash of thunder. “I would if I knew what the devil you’re talking about! I don’t know what the hell you think I said, but I guarantee you, I don’t discuss the personal lives of my officers and, especially not my captain, with guests aboard Seaview. More than that, I take exception with unfounded accusations. You have a job to do, Commander. If having your female companion onboard has distracted you to the point where you’ve lost your sense of judgment, perhaps Mister Morton should assume command for the rest of this voyage.”

 

Lee blanched. “Are you relieving me?”

 

“I didn’t say that. Damn it, Lee.” Nelson scuffed a hand through his hair and paced around the desk. “You come in here and blindside me with an attitude and accusations, how do you think I’m going to react? Do you think I’d take this guff from any other officer? Do you think any other officer would have the audacity to talk to me like you just did?”

 

It took him a second. He was hot, still seething, but Lee was beginning to realize he’d overstepped his bounds. It wasn’t like him to be so confrontational, especially with Nelson. But his whole life had been riding on that one damn statement - - I want to marry you - - and the response Alyssa had given him had been the reaction he dreaded most. 

 

She’d said no. 

 

She couldn’t have made it any plainer. If only Nelson had kept his errant thoughts to himself instead of uncharacteristically blabbing them to Clarice.

 

Lee stood stiffly, hands at his sides, his face a hard mask. “I’ll accept any disciplinary action you consider appropriate, Sir, but I stand by what I said.”

 

“Is that so?” Nelson turned to face him, squaring his shoulders. “Well, Mister, I think it’s time you realized certain actions have consequences. Even for you. Consider yourself temporarily relieved of command and confined to quarters. I’ll inform Chip Morton of the change.” 

 

Lee clenched his jaw. “So that’s your solution? I say something you don’t like, and your answer is to relieve me of command rather than face up to your shortcomings?” He’d crossed the line and knew it, but anger made him reckless. It wasn’t simply that Nelson had been so careless with his remarks, but that Lee felt betrayed by his negligence. How could the man he trusted above all others share something so personal - - something he knew would cause Alyssa extreme distress - - with a stranger? It was no better than spreading gossip.

 

“That will be all.” Nelson’s voice was clipped, his eyes unflinching and dangerous. He too had a breaking point. “I suggest you leave before I decide to make the situation permanent.” Gruffly, he turned his back. “You are dismissed, Commander Crane.”

 

Lee’s face flushed with anger. He bit his lip to keep from snapping a retort that would surely land him in the brig, and left, slamming the door.

 

***********

 

Chip Morton didn’t bother knocking. He simply barged into Lee’s cabin, not at all surprised to find his friend sitting at his desk, shoulders slumped, head bowed in his hands. 

 

“What the hell is going on?” Chip exploded. He kicked the door shut and stomped into the dimly-lit cabin. Without giving his friend a chance to catch his breath, he leaned over the desk, splaying his hands flat on the surface. “Nelson just called me to his cabin to say he’d relieved you of command and I’m to captain Seaview until he decides differently.”

 

Lee gave a disheartened shrug and sagged back in his chair. “Then I guess you have the sub.”

 

“Don’t give me that shit.” Chip was at the end of his rope. Nelson had told him nothing, and the few questions he’d managed to ask had been curtly rebuffed. He might not have any sway with the admiral but he’d ridden roughshod on Lee too many times to be put off so easily. And as matters stood between them now, Lee didn’t even outrank him. At least not where the boat was concerned. “I want to know what happened. You go off shift and everything’s fine. Forty minutes later you’re sitting here like you’re waiting for your own funeral, and Nelson’s pulled your command. What the hell happened, Lee?”

 

“I don’t know.” Dejected, Lee shook his head. He propped one elbow on the arm of his chair and pressed his fingertips to his temple. “I guess I overreacted.”

 

For the first time since he’d entered the cabin, Chip took a good look at his face and saw a bright thread of pain in his eyes. Not physical but emotional, an anguish too acute to mask. 

 

“I asked Alyssa to marry me,” Lee said quietly.

 

Chip reeled, trying to follow the conversation. He thought they’d been talking about Nelson. “What did she say?”

 

“She said no.”

 

“Ah, hell, buddy, I’m sorry.” Chip grabbed a chair by the seat without looking and pulled it behind Lee’s desk. He sat with his knees braced apart, leaning forward, no longer bristling but supportive. He had a good idea what that ‘no’ had cost Lee given how much his friend wanted a future with the former fashion model. “So give her more time,” Chip urged, sliding his hand over Lee’s wrist. “She’ll come around.”

 

“I don’t think so.” Lee dropped his eyes, drawing a dispirited breath. “She made it plain she’ll never consent to marry me. When I left her cabin, I let my temper dictate my actions. You should have heard what I said to Nelson. He had a right to take Seaview away from me. I was insubordinate.”

 

Back to the admiral. 

 

Chip was tempted to give a soft snort but resisted. He’d seen Lee stand his ground with Nelson countless times and, while the younger man often bluntly made his point, he was never disrespectful. Chip didn’t think he had it in him, at least not where Nelson was concerned. He might not say it in so many words but Lee loved the admiral like a father.

 

Which was probably why he was so miserable. 

 

Jeez. Talk about getting kicked in the teeth - - first Alyssa refuses his proposal of marriage, then Nelson strips him of command. If you were Lee Crane things couldn’t get much worse.  

 

“Tell me what happened,” Chip coaxed, his hand still covering Lee’s wrist. He squeezed slightly, agitation fading as his big brother instinct took over. Lee might be a competent commander, the Navy’s best, but he wasn’t without vulnerabilities. Chip didn’t have to be a mind reader to see how badly he was hurting. That personal fragility was a side of Lee only a handful of people ever saw, Chip foremost among them, and right now Lee made no effort to hide it.

 

Chip listened quietly while he explained what had occurred . . . how he’d found Alyssa balled up on her bed, crying . . . what had passed between Nelson and Clarice and, finally, in a fit of desperation to prove he loved her, how Lee had proposed.

 

“She said no.” The dark-haired man pulled his arm free and stood. He paced in front of the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Not just a simple ‘no,’ Chip, but an absolute-we’ve-got-no-future-together-no.” He dropped his arm and blew out a frustrated sigh, tilting his head back to stare up at the bulkhead ceiling. “It hurt more than I expected.”

 

Chip winced, wishing he could say something to ease the pain. It was rare for Lee to speak so candidly about his feelings even to him. 

 

“After I got her quieted down I confronted Nelson in his cabin,” Lee continued, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “He denied saying anything to Clarice and that only made me angrier.”

 

“Lee . . .” Chip hedged. “Are you positive about this? I mean, I can’t see Nelson discussing anything so personal with Clarice Stockton. Especially Nelson. The man’s always been protective of you, and he’s got no patience for scuttlebutt. It doesn’t make sense he’d share anything so private.”

 

“Alyssa said Clarice told her it slipped out. That he didn’t mean to say it.”

 

Chip was beginning to understand. He could already see the scene playing out in Nelson’s cabin, Lee’s temper in high gear, Nelson’s a step shy of combustible. “Whatever you said to him, coupled with the way you said it, made his temper kick in.”

 

Lee nodded.

 

“So he relieved you of command?”

 

“To prove a point. And he’s right. If it weren’t for the personal relationship we have, I never would have spoken to him the way I did. He’s a four-star admiral, Chip, and I’m a captain. I was disrespectful and out of line. If I’d mouthed off to Starke like that, I’d be in the brig. At least all Nelson did was temporarily relieve me of command.”

 

“This stinks, Lee.” Disgusted, Chip shoved to his feet. “How the hell is it going to look to the crew?”

 

“At this point, I don’t think he cares. I pushed too far, and he’s decided to make an example of me . . . to remind me, and everybody else, of my place. When he’s satisfied I’ve had a dose of humility, he’ll restore my command.”

 

Chip swore softly and blew out a breath. “And Alyssa?”

 

Lee looked away. “I don’t know, Chip. I’m worried about the damage I might have done with that proposal. If she thinks I need marriage to be happy she’ll want to end things so I’m free to find someone else.”

 

“Do you?” Chip asked.

 

Lee stared blankly. “Do I what?”

 

“Need marriage to be happy?”

 

“No. I just need her.”

 

***********

 

Chip entered his cabin with the same agitated brusqueness he’d barged in on Lee. Aggravated, he ripped off his tie and tossed it on his desk. So what if Lee had been a little mouthy with Nelson? It wouldn’t have been the first time the captain and admiral had clashed. He was willing to lay odds Lee had been respectful, no matter how hot under the collar he’d gotten.

Hell, rumors of their blow-ups had even funneled back through the ranks of regular Navy. It was common knowledge Nelson allowed Lee to speak his mind in a manner most brass would find unacceptable.

 

And maybe that was the problem. Maybe Nelson had finally decided to rein in his errant captain. Although if Chip had his say, he’d wager it had more to do with the reason for the altercation rather than the argument itself. 

 

Despite what Clarice had told Alyssa, Chip couldn’t see the admiral sharing personal information about Lee. Nelson didn’t slip up and say things inadvertently. He was far too poised and professional and, in Chip’s opinion, guarded Lee’s privacy more stringently than his own. The man simply had no patience for scuttlebutt. The last thing he would do is spread it himself. Confronted by his captain, he’d probably reacted badly, appalled Lee would believe something so uncharacteristic of him.

 

But Lee had been acting on adrenalin and emotion, upset to find Alyssa crying, hurt to have his proposal of marriage rebuffed.

 

What a mess!

 

With an exasperated sigh, Chip dropped into the chair behind his desk. He didn’t want to think about what the next day would bring or the sidelong glances and questions he was sure to garner from the crew.

 

Half-heartedly, he looked at the neatly stacked folders on his desk. He much preferred papers and reports to helming Seaview. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable, just that command was Lee’s domain. They were a team, captain and XO, each complementing the other. He didn’t mind assuming the point position from time-to-time, but not at the expense of Lee Crane. Nelson knew he hadn’t been happy with the reassignment, but Nelson hadn’t cared. Or as the admiral had put it... “You’ll do as you’re told, Mister Morton, or you’ll find yourself in a similar situation as Crane.”

 

Not ‘Lee.’ Crane. Nelson was ticked. Well, too freaking bad. So was Chip.

 

Irked, he rattled open his desk drawer, searching for a pencil. He might as well spend a few hours sifting through reports since sleep was going to be a long time in coming. His fingers butted up against a slim book, and he withdrew it from the drawer. He’d forgotten Dey wanted him to get Clarice Stockton’s autograph. The book was really more of a digest than anything of length. 

 

Leaning back in his chair, Chip flipped through the pages. He didn’t understand how anyone could compare research science to art - - one seemed plodding and dry, the other spontaneous and creative - - but Dr. Stockton obviously saw a connection. What had Dey said? It had been written several years ago.

 

He flipped it over. The back cover had a photo of Clarice along with a list of some credits and a brief overview of the book. Chip had to admit she’d aged well. There wasn’t much different about her that he could see. 

 

Except . . .

 

He frowned, realizing something was off. 

 

It was almost as if there was something wrong with the photograph, but he couldn’t put his finger on the reason. Deciding he was just frazzled by current events, Chip tossed the book back into the drawer, making a mental promise to get the autograph for Dey later. He grabbed the nearest folder from the stack on his desk and flipped it open. 

 

Concentrating on paperwork would help him forget he was now the temporary captain of Seaview.

 

***********

 

Lee didn’t remember falling asleep but somewhere during the night he’d kicked off his shoes, tossed aside his tie, and dropped onto his bunk still fully clothed. Confinement to quarters left him with little to do, and he found himself sleeping late, wrapped in a dream of high summer heat and a secluded bay bordered by sea oats and eel grass. It was a special place, magical and romantic. A place he’d once shared with Mae. 

 

The sun hadn’t been the only thing to send his temperature soaring that day. He remembered lying in the grass, her long silvery hair splayed around her as he’d made love to her. Even in sleep, he tossed restlessly, disturbed by the memories. Why was he dreaming of her now after nearly two years? He was in love with Alyssa, his relationship with Mae a phantom echo of something that could never be. 

 

“Lee!” There was a sharp pounding on his door.

 

It dragged him awake, still dazed and fogged with sleep. “Come in,” he called, forcing himself to sit upright. The images were slow to depart, clinging to his mind as he swung his legs over the side of the bunk. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, vaguely aware his shirt had come unbuttoned during the night and hung loosely over his belt. He blinked groggily, half startled, half appreciative when Alyssa slid her arm under his and eased onto the bed beside him.

 

“Lee? What’s happened?” The anxiety in her voice was unmistakable, her face pinched and drawn. “You weren’t at breakfast and Chip said...”

 

“Forget what Chip said.”  

 

“But he told me Harry relieved you of command.”

 

“It’s only temporary.” He dragged a hand through his hair, trying to tame the rumpled curls into place. Part of him was still back at the bay, on the sun-warmed beach with Mae. He’d done nothing wrong, but felt unfaithful. Did dreaming about making love to another woman make him disloyal? Only if you enjoyed it, his conscience said and he cringed. He hadn’t thought about Mae in nearly two years. Why was she suddenly in command of his thoughts?

 

Alyssa drew back, rising to her feet. “This is about last night. You confronted Harry, didn’t you?”

 

Lee scrubbed his eyes, trying to get a coherent grip on his thoughts. He was still half asleep, thinking about Mae . . . thinking about Alyssa and what a blunder he’d made with that marriage proposal. He’d not only lost her, he’d lost his sub too.

 

“Lyss.” He stood and gripped her shoulders, forcing a calm he didn’t feel. If only he could consign everything to the realm of dreams as he did with Mae - - the proposal, his idiotic quarrel with Nelson. The cold reality of the last twelve hours settled in his gut like a rock. He kept his voice neutral and forced a smile. “Forget about it. It doesn’t concern you.”

 

“But it does! I’m at fault for this too.” Her face crumpled, a stab of pain stealing the light from her eyes. “Don’t you see how many problems I cause, Lee? My God, the last time I was on Seaview Harry ripped into you, and now he relieves you of command. If it weren’t for me, this never would have happened.”

 

He tightened his jaw. “You’re being foolish. This is between me and Nelson. It has nothing to do with you. It’s about respect and military command structure. I crossed a line, Alyssa. I have no one to blame but myself.”

 

“You wouldn’t have crossed that line if it weren’t for me.”

 

He couldn’t argue the point, so he simply took her arm and steered her toward the door. “It’s probably best you go about the day as normal. Don’t,” and here he emphasized the word, “say anything unfavorable to Nelson.”

 

“Lee . . .” She leaned toward him, splaying her hands on his chest.

 

“I know you’re tempted,” he said, rounding his palms over her shoulders. “But this is my problem, my career. I’ll handle it in my own way. Understood?”

 

She drew a breath and closed her eyes. “Understood.”

 

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. “Let’s have lunch together. I’ll ask Cookie to bring something to my cabin.”

 

Her mouth twisted. “You mean Harry’s going to let you have more than bread and water?”

 

“Lyss.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m just so angry at him for being a pigheaded jerk.”

 

“He’s a four-star admiral, Alyssa.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “He’s stubborn and argumentative. I’ll do my best to stay out of his way.”

 

“That’s more like it.” He paused, hesitating as his mind shifted gears. “There’s just one more thing.” He needed to get it out in the open while he still had the courage. “About last night . . .” He didn’t have to explain what he was thinking, that his mind was on the proposal he’d made. He sensed her withdrawal even before he noted the change on her face.

 

She looked away, averting her eyes. “We agreed not to discuss it.”

 

“I never said any such thing.”

 

“There’s nothing to say, Lee.” She pulled away, reaching for the doorknob. At the last minute she hesitated and glanced over her shoulder. “I’m sorry everything worked out the way it has - - you and Harry, the two of us. Maybe for now we just need to concentrate on getting through this cruise. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not think about the future. Especially if we don’t have one.” 

 

She left before he could protest, abandoning him to the silence and solitude of the cabin. He was tempted to follow, even went so far as the passageway and called her name. In the end he retreated back inside, knowing to leave and disobey Nelson’s orders would put his position as Seaview’s captain and his career in greater jeopardy. 

 

Dejected he closed the door, unable to understand how he’d sunk so low after being on a perpetual high only days before.

 

It was all crashing down around him and he felt powerless to stop it.

 

**********

 

The day dragged for Lee.

 

Alyssa had lunch with him in his cabin and spent several hours, but she seemed despondent. He could tell she hadn’t slept well, distressed by everything that had taken place. Even when he kissed her, she seemed distant, already mentally drawing away from him. He was afraid his proposal - - which he’d hoped would confirm the depth of his commitment to her - - had instead convinced her they had no future. When she left and lunch was cleared away, he went back to pacing, feeling frustrated and caged.

 

Throughout the day he listened to the back-and-forth pages over the boat’s intercom. From what he could gather, more problems had cropped up. One with the starboard engine and another with helm control, but they were quickly resolved. Lee found the whole thing odd given the boat had been thoroughly checked over and was running clean prior to leaving Santa Barbara. He wished Nelson would be satisfied he’d been suitably disciplined and restore him to command, but there’d been absolutely no contact from the admiral. Maybe if he apologized.

 

Except he couldn’t. He’d meant what he’d said, granted he could have found a more tactful way of saying it. He was still mulling the whole thing over when someone knocked on the door.

 

“Come in.” At this point any distraction would be welcome.

 

“Hi, Skipper.” Kowalski stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m on break, so I thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

 

Lee nodded. “I appreciate it.” Nelson hadn’t stipulated a “no visitors rule,” but it was still pushing the envelope for Kowalski to be there. Even so, Lee was anxious for news of the sub, and he knew the rating would give it to him. “I heard a few pages over the intercom. It sounds like we’re still having mechanical problems.”

 

Ski’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Plenty of them. Nothing’s running smoothly, including the crew. No one knows why the admiral relieved you of command, Skipper, but it’s affecting morale. It’s not that we don’t like Mister Morton, it’s just...”

 

“I know.” Lee grinned, appreciating the loyalty. It would be the same if someone had to step into Chip’s role on the boat.

 

“Then there’s all the system glitches,” Ski continued. “Most are minor, fixed in a few hours, but we keep running around putting out fires.”

 

Lee nodded thoughtfully. It was almost as if some outside influence were disrupting operations. “What about communications?” he asked.

 

“Up again, but still spotty.” Ski paused, reluctant to relay the next bit of news. “The Flying Sub is down, Sir. The admiral has the chief and Pat working on the problem, but you know her best. We all know that. Even Mister Morton tried to tell him he should put you back on duty and have you take a look at her controls but he . . .”  Ski trailed off, parting with am embarrassed shrug. It was plainly obvious what Nelson had thought of the suggestion.

 

Lee felt himself growing annoyed. His boat continued to have mechanical issues, none of which made any sense, and now FS1 was down. They relied heavily on the compact yellow sub, not only for flight and exploration but as an emergency exit off the boat when time was critical. He itched to be out of the cabin and calling the shots again. It was starting to look like he was going to have to suck it up and apologize to Nelson. With any luck he might be able to convince the older man to restore his command. Even the admiral, at his most stubborn, wouldn’t let anger cloud his reason. He’d do what was best for the boat.

 

“What happened with the Flying Sub?” Lee pressed.

 

“We’re not really sure, Sir. The admiral was giving Dr. Stockton a tour when he realized everything was off line. Talk about bad timing. I hear Dr. Stockton is convinced the problems we’re having are tied to the death threats she got. She’s afraid someone is trying to stop her from reaching the Brussels Conference.”

 

Lee swore softly. Was it possible they had a saboteur onboard? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone had managed to infiltrate their security. Surely both Nelson and Chip would have already thought of that and would be acting accordingly. 

 

“Skipper?” Ski’s question drew him from his thoughts. The rating was watching him carefully,  sensing his frustration. “Is there anything I can do? I mean, here - - for you.”

 

Lee managed a wan smile and shook his head. “No, but I appreciate you stopping by and the information.” He clapped Ski’s shoulder and steered him toward the door. “Now you better get out of here before the admiral finds out and takes exception with your visit.”

 

“But, Skipper...”

 

“I’ve made enough trouble, Ski. I don’t want to include you in my mess.”

 

Once he got the rating out the door, Lee moved quickly to his desk. At the very least, if he couldn’t check FS1 personally for system flaws, he could make a detailed list for Chip to troubleshoot. There were several areas easily overlooked in routine maintenance and inspections.

 

Ten minutes later, he was heavily immersed in the project, writing longhand, when he felt a brush of air across his cheek. For one quicksilver second he thought he heard a woman crying. A feeling of deja vu swept over him. It brought with it a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time, twined with a memory that was achingly sweet. Dropping his pen, he pushed the chair back and stood. If he concentrated deeply enough he could almost smell the salt-air off the bay, hear the rustle of a breeze slipping through tall slivers of eel grass.

 

“Mae?”   

 

The cabin disappeared and he found himself standing on the side of a gravel road. A large bay spread out below him, glittering like cut glass in the sun. The air was warm with the high heat of summer but not unpleasant. Tugging at his tie to loosen the knot, Lee walked down a sandy embankment toward the water’s edge. Overhead, a gull pinwheeled in a lazy arc against the sky, effortlessly gliding on a soft cushion of air.

 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” a voice said behind him.

 

He turned slowly, knowing she would be there, drinking in the sight of her. She was exactly as he remembered, tall and willowy, her flowing hair the color of winter starlight. He never could decide if her eyes were midnight blue or black as polished onyx, only that she saw into his soul.

 

She held out her hand and he went willingly, wrapping her in his arms, burying his face in her hair. She smelled of sun, moon and sea, a bewitching blend of earth and sky. The feel of her in his arms made his breath catch in his throat. “Are you a dream?”

 

“Only as I was before,” Mae said. She raised a hand to his cheek. “I’ve missed you, Lee.”

 

She’d always been close, even after she’d left him. She was Seaview’s spirit in corporeal form, the heart and soul of his boat. He’d felt her presence, sometimes just a glimmer, other times the phantom brush of her essence when he was alone at night. She could no more leave Seaview than he could will himself to become like her. The bay, with its glittering water and sun-drenched shore, was a place she’d taken him before - - in spirit and mind, a joining he’d never forget. He’d made love to her on the grass, pledged his heart and fidelity for eternity.  

 

Only now, he belonged to another.

 

He drew back, holding onto her, his eyes lowered to drink in her features. She was Seaview. How could he not love her?

 

“It’s been two years,” he said.

 

“For you.” Her voice was soft, tinged with sadness. “The passage of time has little meaning to a creature like me.” She touched him again, skimming her fingers down his jaw. “I’ve watched you, Lee. When you’re on Seaview, I’m never far away. And I’ve seen into your heart. I’m happy you’ve found another, but sometimes the knowledge cuts like a sword.”

 

He bit his lip, sensing she was talking about Alyssa. ““Mae, I’ll always love you, but it’s not the same love I felt before. If there had been a way for us...”

 

“I know that. She means a lot to you, this model?”

 

He didn’t want to hurt her but he couldn’t lie either. “She’s my life.”

 

“I used to think I was.”

 

“Mae...”

 

“No.” She stopped him before he could say anything further, pressing her fingertips to his lips. “I’ve spent many nights weeping lately because I know your heart belongs to another. I cherish the memories of those times we made love. In truth, I shouldn’t be here now, but I had to see you a final time. You’ve found someone else, Lee, but my eternity will be spent mourning you.”

 

He didn’t want to think of the pain he was causing her. There’d been no future for them, not even a possibility as there was with Alyssa. She was a spirit, a being from a realm that transcended his. Yet he couldn’t deny he’d always feel an acute ache in his soul for her. She’d touched him in a way no one else could.

 

Bending his head, he pressed his lips to hers, savoring the sweetness of her mouth beneath his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into his embrace, a soft sigh escaping her throat. Lee plunged his hands into her hair, holding her close, kissing her one last time for eternity. When he drew back, breaking the contact, he was in his cabin, standing behind his desk.

 

Disoriented, he blinked. “Mae?”

 

But she was gone, the enchanted bay with her. For a moment he could almost believe he’d dreamed the whole encounter.

 

***********

 

Alyssa sat on the bunk, absently brushing her hair. She wished she could shut off her mind, even if only for the night. If she could just turn back the clock to New Year’s Eve when she and Lee had been blissfully happy. Instead she kept thinking ahead to the future, seeing that nearly eighty-year-old woman when Lee would be sixty. Even the repetitive motion of the brush couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering in that direction. 

 

Disgusted, she tossed it on the mattress and paced across the cabin. The evening was winding down but she knew she’d never be able to sleep. She’d had dinner with Lee, then visited with Clarice. The research scientist knew she was miserable and did all she could to keep her mind occupied with small talk and trivial matters. But nothing helped. 

 

Worse were the moments when her path crossed with Harry. She tried to react as she always did for Lee’s sake, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help coming across reservedly cool, even terse. He had to know she was upset with the disciplinary action he’d taken with Lee, but they didn’t speak of it. Nor did they speak of the reason why it had occurred. Lee had made it plain his career was his career. The running of Seaview and the way Harry chose to handle his captain had nothing to do with her.

 

The hell it didn’t!

 

Lee was currently without his command because of her. Because of her inability to handle something that was becoming more and more of an obstacle - - the difference in their ages. Twisting her hands in frustration, she made another circuit of the cabin. Why couldn’t she live for the moment the way Lee wanted her to and not worry what the future held? 

 

Because it was a selfish solution. 

 

What would happen when he’d given all those years of his life to her, and his only reward was to be saddled with a feeble and elderly woman while he was still young? She loved him too much to let him make that sacrifice. He should be with a twenty-or-thirty-something. A woman who would age as he did. Who was still young enough to give him children and the family he deserved.

 

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and blinked to hold them at bay. But the thoughts kept coming, more damaging than before. When someone knocked on the door she was more than glad for the distraction.

 

“Come in,” she called, quickly wiping aside tears.

 

Clarice Stockton took one look at her face and crossed the room, capturing her hands in a compassionate grip. She squeezed lightly, her eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and conflict. “I feel horrible, Alyssa. I can see you’re still upset about what I told you. If only I’d never mentioned my encounter with Harry.”

 

Alyssa shook her head, pulling away. It wasn’t Clarice’s fault. In truth, it wasn’t even Harry’s fault, although she hadn’t bothered to confront him about what he’d said. It was her fault for falling in love with a man who was so much younger. “It’s all right, Clarice. I’m just tired.”

 

“That’s not true. I can’t help thinking about the conversations we’ve had. I know you’re upset by what’s happened, but I think you’re troubled even more by something you feel has no solution.”

 

Alyssa glanced at her uncertainly. She liked Clarice. Having another woman on Seaview had given her a sounding board from a female perspective. She didn’t make it a practice to blab her thoughts and feelings but, over the last twenty-four hours, Clarice had gradually gotten her to open up. The scientist had a way about her that put Alyssa at ease. Before she’d known it, she was sharing feelings about her age, and how she saw it as a stumbling block in her relationship with Lee. She was surprised to have parted with intimacies she never would have shared with anyone else. 

 

Still, to hear it put so bluntly - - no solution - - made her waver. Had everything truly reached a point where it would never be right again? 

 

“I . . .” Fresh tears rushed to her eyes.

 

“Please, Alyssa . . . sit down.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Clarice guided her back to the bunk. “You don’t know how dreadful I feel, as if this whole thing is my fault. I want to help you.”

 

Alyssa brushed a knuckle under her lashes, catching a stray tear. Wearily, she sank to a seat on the mattress. “You’re not responsible, Clarice. I’m to blame for falling in love with someone so much younger. I’m afraid there’s no easy fix.”

 

“Don’t be so sure.” Clarice sat beside her. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone.” She paused a beat and wet her lips, her expression earnest, slightly anxious. “The death threats I’ve had  . . . they have nothing to do with the drug I’m researching. At least not the compound everyone thinks. This is why I’ve been targeted.” Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a small vial and pressed it into Alyssa’s hand. Slim, approximately two inches in length, it contained a vivid green liquid.

 

Perplexed, Alyssa looked from the glass tube to Clarice. “I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s an experimental drug, not quite ready for the open market. I’ve tested it on myself, and I know it works. There was a point in my life when I was in the same position you are now, only the man I loved was even younger. I know exactly how you feel.”

 

Alyssa blinked, shocked by the revelation. No wonder Clarice understood what she was feeling! “You were in love...?”

 

“Yes. He’s gone now. Years ago, in a car accident. But the point is I was confronted with the same fears you’re struggling with.” Leaning forward, she laid her hand over Alyssa’s. “It made me look for a solution in medicine and science. They’ve always been my outlet and my comfort. I’m not trying to find the fountain of youth, but there’s nothing wrong with arresting the aging process.” She nodded toward the vial in Alyssa’s hands. “Which is exactly what I’ve done. Would you believe me if I told you I was 82?”

 

“What?”

 

Clarice laughed. “I know it seems hard to believe, a piece of science-fiction, but it’s the truth. I’ve kept my research private, which is why I became such a recluse, but recently word leaked - - or at least the suspicion that I was working on something to retard aging. Do you realize how valuable that could be? I’m not talking about vanity, but strictly a medical viewpoint. It’s why I have enemies.”

 

“But this . . .” Bewildered, Alyssa stood, her eyes dropping to the vial. It seemed impossible, yet she’d witnessed the impossible once herself - - a dead man animated to a zombie-like mockery of life. If a storm elemental could possess a dead body and attack her and Lee, why couldn’t a competent, knowledgeable scientist create a drug that slowed aging? Between the two, Clarice’s accomplishment seemed far less a product of science-fiction. “Why are you giving this to me?” she asked.

 

“Isn’t it obvious? To help you, because I understand what you’re feeling.” A trace of sadness flitted through Clarice’s aquamarine eyes. “The man I love is gone. The man you love is here. I want you to have the chance with him I didn’t with Wayne.” She nodded toward the vial in Alyssa’s hands. “If you decide to take that, you can’t tell anyone. Promise me, Alyssa.”

 

Her eyes dropped to the vial again. Was it possible Clarice had truly handed her the solution to her problem? She wasn’t looking for eternal youth. She wanted to grow old with Lee, not before or after him. If what Clarice said was true the drug would slow down her aging and give him a chance to catch up. But to drink something that was experimental, untested . . .

 

“You said you took this yourself?”

 

Clarice nodded. “It’s all I have, Alyssa. The truth is I’ve tried and can’t recreate the formula.”

 

“But then you can’t give this to me!”

 

“It’s mine to do with as I choose.” Clarice stood and took her hands again. “I’d rather you have it than some black-marketeer who will do God knows what with it. You’d actually be doing me a favor by accepting it. The death threats have made me realize the pandemonium this kind of drug could create. I don’t think the world is ready for it.”

 

“I’m not sure I am either.” Alyssa tried to give it back to her, but Clarice shook her head.

 

“You don’t have to decide right now. Hang onto it. We still have a few more days before we reach Brussels. If you don’t want it, you can return it then. But it has to be our secret, Alyssa. Just between us. Promise me.”

 

“I promise.” She closed the vial tightly in her fingers, realizing exactly what she held in her hands.

 

A future with Lee.

 

Five minutes later when Clarice had left the cabin, she carried the vial into the bathroom. Before the night was over, she closed her mind to her fears and drank the green liquid.

 

**********

 

Lee got up early, showered and dressed. He’d already decided to approach Nelson about returning him to duty. Another day confined to his cabin would be intolerable. The admiral had more than made his point about insubordination and respect by relieving him of command. Lee was painfully aware of the lesson, even more conscious that Nelson wanted him to be an example to the crew, small as it was on this mission. He didn’t know why this time was different but Nelson seemed stubbornly set on prolonging the disciplinary action. Although Lee still had no plans of conceding his point, he intended to page the admiral and request to see him. He’d just finished knotting his tie when the intercom buzzed.

 

“Lee, this is Jamieson.”

 

Closing the closet, Lee crossed to his desk and depressed the speaker button. “What is it, Jamie?”

 

“I need you in Sick Bay. Right away.”

 

“I can’t.” Surely Jamie knew that. “The admiral’s confined me to quarters.”

 

There was a slight pause then Nelson’s voice crackled from the speaker. “Lee, this is Nelson. Get down here now.”

 

“Admiral?” Something about the tone of Nelson’s voice sent a prickle of warning scuttling along his nerves. “Sir, is something wrong?”

 

“Just get down here. Quickly, Lee.” And the line went dead.

 

Uneasiness gave way to a restless sense of alarm. Had something happened during the night . . . an injured crew member, possibly even Chip? Trying to tamp down his growing agitation, Lee left his cabin, heading swiftly for Sick Bay. It didn’t take long - - a turn of a few corridors and down one level. Maybe it was just something to do with medical supplies or stores. Maybe Jamie was concerned about a test culture from one of his routine analyses. It could be anything. It could be...

 

He opened the door and came to a dead stop. 

 

“My God! Alyssa!”

 

He bolted for the gurney in the center of the exam room, but Nelson caught him before he could complete the frantic dash. “Wait a minute, Lee. We need to talk to you.” He kept his arm locked over the captain’s chest, physically holding him back.

 

“Let me go! What’s wrong with her?”

 

“She’s in a coma,” Jamie said.

 

Stunned, Lee looked to the doctor. “That can’t be. Just last night . . . I was with her. She was fine.” Cold dread sliced through him. She was so still, her skin drawn and anemic-looking, her chest barely rising and falling with the shallow flutter of her breath. “Admiral, let me go!” He struggled harder and this time Nelson released him.

 

Lee bent over the cot, one hand closing over Alyssa’s fingers, the other cupping the back of her head. “Lyss. Can you hear me? It’s Lee. Please, darling . . .” But there was no reaction, not even the slightest flicker of movement. He could feel himself growing cold inside, his veins pierced through by sharp splinters of ice. Helplessly, he looked to Nelson. “How?” It was the only word he could get past his throat.

 

“I went to see her this morning. To talk to her,” the admiral supplied. “I found her unconscious on the floor.”

 

Lee closed his eyes, holding tightly to her hand. “How long ago?”

 

“Not long. Jamie came immediately . . . did everything he could.”

 

It wasn’t enough. “But the coma,” Lee protested, glancing toward the doctor.

 

“She’s stable at the moment,” Jamie assured him. “I wish I could tell you why this has happened, but I won’t know for sure until I run some tests. The best would be a computer tomography but I’m not equipped for it here on Seaview.”

 

Lee straightened. “Then we have to get her to a hospital. Now.”

 

“Just wait a minute.” Jamie lifted both hands in a placating gesture, hearing the strident edge in Lee’s voice. “I don’t want to move her unnecessarily without some preliminary assessments. I’d like your consent to proceed.”

 

“What assessments?”

 

“Nothing invasive. Mostly blood tests and imagining scans. I need to know if she’s been sick lately.”

 

“No. I told you she was fine.”

 

“All right, just calm down.” This time it was Nelson who tried to soothe him. “Will isn’t referring to just last night. What about recently? The last few days?”

 

“No. Nothing.”

 

“Did she seem unusually tired or anxious?” Jamie persisted. “Complain of dizziness?”

 

“I told you - - nothing!”  The edge in his voice was unmistakable.

 

“Lee...” Jamie motioned him away from the bed. “Let’s step into my office to discuss this.”

 

“I’m not going to leave her.”

 

“You’re also not doing her any good as agitated as you are. People in comas, while unresponsive, are often aware of their surroundings. It’s possible Alyssa can hear you. You’re not doing her any favors by letting her know how worried you are.”

 

Lee blanched. Jamie was right. He was normally more composed in a crisis, but finding her like this, seeing her like this, had blindsided him. He bent closer to the cot, tenderly smoothing back her hair to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to talk to Jamie and the admiral now, Lyss, but I won’t be far.” He raised his hand and brushed a knuckle over her cheek. “It’s going to be all right. I promise. Jamie will make you well again.” He pressed his lips to hers, lingering over the unnatural coolness of her flesh. “I love you, Alyssa. Never forget that.”

 

He straightened and nodded to the other two men. Together the three stepped into Jamie’s adjoining office. Once inside, the doctor pulled the fanfold doors portioning off the treatment area, leaving them slightly ajar.

 

“That’s better,” he said, turning to Lee, his voice low. “I’d like to have the name of Alyssa’s regular doctor. With your permission, I want to contact him for any relevant information. As far as you know, is Alyssa being treated for anything on an ongoing basis?”

 

Still reeling from the nightmare, Lee tried to focus. “Such as?”

 

“Diabetes, low blood sugar, anxiety, depression . . .”

 

“No. I told you - - she’s remarkably fit. Physically and mentally.”

 

“What about any maintenance prescriptions or drugs of any kind? She might have had a reaction.”

 

“Jamie, she isn’t taking anything. A daily vitamin and an occasional pain reliever for a headache, but that’s all. And, no, before you ask, she doesn’t have a problem with headaches.”

 

“I’d still like to contact her doctor. He might have some ideas.”

 

Lee nodded. He grabbed a tablet from the top of Jamie’s desk along with a pen and scribbled the man’s name and phone number on the top sheet. Tearing it off, he handed the paper to the physician. 

 

Jamie’s eyes flicked to the name then back to Lee. He folded the page in half, slipping it inside his trouser pocket. “All right, Lee. I want you to think hard  . . . one more time. Are you positive she was fine yesterday? Was there anything at all out of the ordinary? The smallest detail could help.”

 

Lee exhaled and turned away. Pacing slowly, he massaged his temple, frustrated that he couldn’t produce an answer. He could feel Nelson and Jamie watching him intently. Alyssa had been fine. Upset, yes, but...

 

He stopped suddenly, pivoting to face the other two. Surely that had nothing to do with her condition.

 

“What is it?” Nelson asked, seeing the look on his face.

 

“I . . . she . . .” Lee wet his lips. “She was upset . . . depressed. But there was nothing physically wrong with her.”

 

“What was she upset about?” Jamie asked.

 

Lee hesitated. He didn’t like the idea of sharing anything so personal. “It was a private matter between us.”

 

Jamie exchanged a glance with the admiral, both men silent as they weighed his answer. Lee could tell by their non-verbal communication it wasn’t going to fly. Restless, he started twisting the onyx ring on his left hand, a habitual reaction whenever he was tense or trying to work something through. “I don’t see how it’s important.”

 

“Let me decide that,” Jamie said. “Did you fight?”

 

“No. Not really.” He started pacing again, unable to stay still. He dragged a hand over the back of his neck. The woman he loved was lying in the next room. In a coma. It couldn’t be happening.

 

“She was upset because of something Dr. Stockton told her,” he admitted at last. “It had to do with the difference in our ages. He shot a quick glance at the admiral before continuing. “Lately, that’s been troubling her a great deal. I, uh . . . I asked her to marry me and that made it worse.” He closed his eyes briefly, remembering the rejection. “She said no.”

 

Nelson swore softly, visibly agitated. The captain glanced at him in surprise but, before he could contemplate the unusual reaction, Jamie drew his attention.

 

“So she was depressed about your relationship?”

 

Lee frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

 

“You said she was upset. You even used the word ‘depressed’ earlier.”

 

Nelson grunted his own distaste of the idea. “Will, what are you saying?”

 

Jamieson was clearly cornered, both men staring at him unfavorably, but he held his ground. “I don’t think we should rule out the use of narcotics.”

 

“I told you she wasn’t taking anything,” Lee said, an edge to his voice.

 

“I realize that, Captain. I’m talking about a deliberate overdose.”

 

“What?” Lee surged forward, but Nelson caught his arm. He was ready to snap at the admiral for interfering - - hell, he was already up to his neck in insubordination anyway - - when he glimpsed the severity of Nelson’s expression. The older man looked furious.

 

“Ali . . . Alyssa,” he corrected himself in a vehemently cold voice. “Would never do anything so desperate.”

 

“Admiral, I’m merely suggesting...”

 

“... well unsuggest it and find another answer, Doctor.” Nelson released Lee’s arm. “I think you’ve covered all the bases you need to with Commander Crane. He’s provided you with the name and number of Alyssa’s personal physician. I suggest you begin investigating and running whatever tests you find pertinent.” His focus shifted to Lee. “Captain, I recommend you check on the progress of the Flying Sub. We’ll want it on standby in the event Will finds it necessary to transport Ali to a land-bound hospital.”

 

Lee hesitated. “You called me Captain. Does that mean I have my command back?”

 

Nelson nodded brusquely. “It does. Take a few minutes with Ali then let the doctor do his job. You have your own to do. I need you focused on Seaview.”

 

“Aye, Sir.” Lee half believed Nelson was being terse solely to keep him from wallowing in misery over Alyssa. But another half suspected the admiral’s gruffness came from something else altogether. It wasn’t until much later Lee realized the older man felt responsible.

 

**********

 

Nelson found Clarice Stockton in the observation nose, seated in front of the herculite windows, a book open on her lap. She’d apparently forgotten about it, watching the play of water and marine life beyond the mammoth panes of glass. She looked poised and composed, dressed in a tailored gray pantsuit, her blonde hair secured in an immaculate bun. As Nelson approached he imagined he saw a smile on her face. It was an odd grin, sly and gloating. The moment she became aware of him, it was replaced by a warmth that reached her vivid blue-green eyes.

 

“Admiral. I couldn’t resist enjoying a few moments in the observation nose of your amazing submarine.”

 

Harry nodded. He flecked a glance behind her to the control room. Restoring Lee to captain had made a difference in morale even in the few short hours he’d been reinstated. Harry didn’t see the dark-haired man among the watch crew, and guessed he was personally checking the condition of the Flying Sub. Word had already spread about Alyssa and, although, the crew was glad to have their captain back, they went about their duties in a hushed manner, conscious of the weight he carried.

 

“We’re making good time to Brussels.” He took a seat across from Clarice, leaning back and crossing his legs. He liked this woman, or at least what he knew of her work, yet there was something not quite right with her, like a picture out of focus. “I believe the conference will be the first you’ve attended in a good fifteen years.”

 

Clarice blushed. “Yes. I’ve decided it’s time I make an effort to be less reclusive. I almost feel silly putting you and your crew through the trouble of escorting me there. Thank goodness you were planning on attending anyway and Captain Crane and Alyssa were invited as guests of the royal family.”

 

Harry nodded. “I supposed you’ve heard about Alyssa?”

 

“Yes, I did.” Clarice learned forward, her expression anxious. “It’s just dreadful. If there’s anything I can do...”

 

“Actually there is.”

 

She blinked, surprised. “Pardon?”

 

“I was just wondering why you told Alyssa I thought she was too old for Lee Crane.” Harry’s gaze never wavered. The tone of his voice was neutral, but it was also unmistakably straight-forward.

 

Clarice gave a fluttery laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“I understand you had a conversation with her about Lee and their difference in age. I also understand I was mentioned as having an unfavorable impression of that gap.”

 

“Oh, dear.” Clarice lowered her eyes, biting her lip. “I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

 

“Come to what?” 

 

Clarice looked toward the control room as if measuring whether or not they could be overheard. Harry knew without looking each man was focused on his respective duties and that he and Clarice were too far away for their voices to travel. He was more interested in her body language, the way she suddenly sat straighter in her chair, gripping the arms and leaning slightly forward as if she intended to impart a secret. He caught a whiff of her perfume, musky and sensual, not a fragrance he would have expected a hermit-like scientist to wear.

 

“Alyssa was the one who talked to me, Admiral. She’s been totally despondent, and I think having another female onboard made her open up. I was surprised to find her so forthcoming, even going as far as to say she was certain you disapproved of her relationship with Captain Crane. I was shocked she would - - pardon the expression - - blab such personal details to me, considering we’d only just met. Perhaps I should have said something to Dr. Jamieson about her mental state.”

 

Harry felt himself growing confrontational but kept his voice cool. Alyssa didn’t ‘blab.’ “Mental state?”

  

“Yes. As depressed as she was, I would hate to think . . .” Her eyes dipped again, a flash of aquamarine beneath gold-tipped lashes. “If she thought her relationship with Captain Crane had no future, she might have lost the will to go on. I would hate to think she’d do anything so desperate as to try and take her own life, but..."

 

“Dr. Stockton!” Nelson exploded to his feet. A hot flush of anger suffused his face. He wouldn’t let anyone - - even a guest on his boat - - speak of her in such a blatantly ill manner.

 

“Admiral?” Only then did he become aware of Lee’s voice intruding through his hostility. The captain stood just off to the side, watching with a look of tight concentration. Behind him, Harry could see the hatch to the Flying Sub standing open.

 

“What is it, Lee?” He hoped his irritation with Clarice didn’t come through in his voice. He and Lee had yet to work out the tension between them. He didn’t need his already on-edge captain misinterpreting his anger.

 

“Sir, the Flying Sub is still down. Our diagnostic tests are useless at this point, doing nothing but kicking back anomalies.” He shot an uncomfortable glance at Clarice. “Would you excuse us for a moment, Dr. Stockton? I need to speak with the admiral alone.”

 

“Of course, Captain.” She smiled benignly. “I was just headed to my cabin.” She stood, gathering her book, then placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry about, Alyssa. I’ve already told the admiral, if there’s anything I can do . . .”

 

Lee nodded, his expression tight. Harry knew how difficult it must be for him to remain focused on the task at hand when he wanted to be in Sick Bay at Alyssa’s side. She and Lee had seemed so happy on New Year’s Eve. He could still remember them dancing together at the Institute party, the perfect, elegant couple, his captain flashing that blinding grin of his. He even remembered thinking how in love they seemed, that it was impossible to look at them and not see their devotion to each other. And now, just a handful of days later, Ali was in Sick Bay, suspected of attempted suicide after rejecting Lee’s marriage proposal.

 

Lee waited until Clarice had left, exiting by way of the spiral stairs before speaking. “Admiral, I’d like to have Kowalski and a small team do a low-profile sweep of the boat.”

 

“We’re running on a skeleton crew now.” 

 

“I know that, Sir. But three men are all I need.”

 

Nelson nodded. “You’re the captain. May I ask why?”

 

“Because the diagnostics from the Flying Sub don’t make sense. It’s almost as if there’s something onboard interfering with her circuitry.”

 

“Deliberate jamming?”

 

Lee nodded. “My guess would be electrical or low-frequency sound disruption. It might even account for some of the other issues we’ve been having. What I don’t understand is the reason behind the failures. Nothing has been critical enough to slow our speed or force a course change from Brussels.”

 

“Maybe the conference has nothing to do with it.”

 

“But the death threats to Dr. Stockton . . .”

 

“Yes. I’m starting to wonder about them too. They were definitely timely.”

 

Lee blinked, confused. “Sir?”

 

Before Harry could say a word, Jamieson’s voice came across the intercom. “Lee, this is Jamie.”

 

Lee reacted immediately, striding for the nearest wall mic and tugging it from its clip. He double-clicked the receiver to change the communication from the overhead ship’s-page to one-on-one. Harry approached more slowly, noting the rabid anxiety on his young commander’s face.

 

“Go ahead, Jamie,” Lee prompted.

 

For a moment there was only silence, then Jamie parted with the reluctant truth. “I think you should be here, Lee. Stay with her. I’m not sure there’s anything more I can do.”

 

**********

 

Chip felt powerless, frustrated that he couldn’t do anything that mattered. He and Lee had faced their share of difficult situations in the past, but this was different. His friend was hurting - - not physically, but emotionally - - and Chip didn’t know how to help. It was hard to see someone he cared about in such anguish and not be able to do anything to ease that misery.

 

And then there was Alyssa. He’d come to care for her in a brotherly sort of way. Quite a long time ago she’d stopped being a media sensation and became the woman Lee loved. Because of that, he loved her too. He’d come to know her as a person, seeing beyond the celebrity icon and high-fashion gloss. She was good-hearted, down to earth and had a refreshing outlook on life. Most importantly, she loved Lee unconditionally. Her influence on him had made a marked difference in his contentment.

 

Chip’s friend smiled a lot more these days, he joked more frequently and was less reclusive with his feelings. He’d stopped being an island, letting down walls he’d spent most of his life building and perfecting. He accepted help more easily, even if it meant exposing his own vulnerabilities. And his devotion to Alyssa had him backing off on ONI assignments, taking far fewer than before. There’d been women in Lee’s past, even a handful of semi-serious relationships, but there’d never been anyone to make him rethink his instinctive need for danger.

 

Until now.

 

Except that woman was in a coma and, according to Jamie, getting worse.

 

Chip stood in the doorway to Sick Bay transfixed by the sight before him. Alyssa had been moved to one of the lower bunks against the wall, her skin the same paper-white as the freshly-laundered sheets. The room was fairly dark, most of the lights dimmed to a soft setting. It seemed to Chip that her naturally fiery hair had lost its brilliance. Or maybe that was just the shadows and the pale contrast of her cheeks, white as antique cameo, against the autumn-hued waves of her hair. 

 

He chanced a glance into the adjoining room where Jamie sat hunched over his desk. The doctor looked up briefly, giving a sad shake of his head as if to confirm he was out of options. To Chip it felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. He loved Alyssa but, dear God, how would Lee adjust to life without her?

 

Reluctantly, his gaze tracked back to the bunk. An oxygen cannula kept Alyssa breathing as comfortably as possible. At least they didn’t have her on a ventilator. 

 

Yet.

 

Chip swallowed hard. There was a chrome IV stand beside the bed, containing two liquid-filled sacks. Clear tubing ran from both, funneling into a “Y” before snaking to an IV port on the inside of her arm. 

 

Lee sat at her bedside, shoulders slumped, head bowed. He held onto her hand, slowly moving his thumb back and forth across her knuckles in a continual caress. His other hand cupped his forehead, his elbow propped on his knee. Chip heard him murmuring quietly but couldn’t make out the words. A few broken pieces filtered to him across the shadow-draped room.

 

“. . . right here . . . love you . . . please . . . future . . . need you . . .”

 

Chip drew a breath. “Lee?” he ventured softly.

 

When there was no reaction, he cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “Lee.”

 

The younger man swiveled to face him. The unmistakable sheen of moisture in his eyes made Chip’s gut clench in a fist.

 

“Hey.” Even he was surprised at how gentle his voice sounded. “I tried to get here sooner.”

 

Lee rubbed the wetness from his eyes but a splotch remained, damp and shining, at the upper curve of his cheek. “I’ve never felt this helpless,” he muttered forlornly.

 

Chip pulled a chair close. He gripped Lee’s forearm between his hands, holding tightly. “I wish I could do something.”

 

Lee returned the grip, giving his arm a faint squeeze. “Being here helps. I’m terrified I’m going to lose her.”

 

Chip looked toward the bed, pained by Alyssa’s stillness. No movement at all as if she were somehow preparing for what was to follow. Absolute immobility. Lifelessness.

 

He remembered the flash of her smile, the way she tilted her head to the side when she laughed, the spark of humor that so easily animated her silver eyes. He wanted to assure Lee she would be fine but couldn’t find it in him to offer patronizing clichés. The only thing he could do to help was to keep plugging at the Flying Sub and communications, until one or both, were operational. 

 

“Let’s talk in the hall,” he suggested, indicating the door.   

 

For a moment Lee stared blankly as if unable to comprehend the words, then a look of panic entered his eyes. “I can’t leave her. What if something happens and I’m not here?”

 

“Jamie’s in the next room. I’ll let him know. Come on, Lee . . .” Chip stood, hooking his friend beneath the elbow, forcing him to stand. 

 

“Chip.”

 

The blond-haired man glanced toward the bed. “I won’t keep him long, Alyssa,” he said, the hint of a smile curving his lips.

 

Lee looked at him, surprised but appreciative of the gesture. It was as if in speaking directly to Alyssa, in acknowledging that she was still with them, Chip had provided a renewed measure of assurance. Lee nodded, then bent to kiss her. Chip gave them a brief moment of privacy, crossing to the office to tell Jamie they would be in the corridor. 

 

“I’ll sit with her until Lee’s back,” Jamie assured him. 

 

Seconds later, Chip pulled Lee into the hallway. Under the bright glare of the sub’s regular lighting, the captain looked even worse, his face drawn and sallow, his normally vibrant eyes lackluster and underscored by shadow. 

 

“It feels like a nightmare,” Lee told him. He leaned into the bulkhead, bracing his shoulders and back, hands in his pockets. “I keep asking myself why. Jamie says it’s a narcotic, but he can’t figure out the compound. All he knows is that’s it’s slowly and systematically attacking her circulatory system. I keep going over it in my head . . . if there was some kind of vapor she might have inhaled or something toxic she ingested, but there’s nothing, Chip.” He looked at his friend in desperation. “Jamie thinks she took a drug. Lyss wouldn’t do that. She...”

 

“I know,” Chip said quickly, hearing the rise of desperation in his voice. He placed a hand on Lee’s shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. “We haven’t given up on the Flying Sub or communications. I’ve got men working on the problems ‘round the clock.”

 

“Thanks.” Lee blew out a breath, scrubbing both hands over his face. “I keep thinking about Dr. Stockton and the death threats she had. What if Alyssa accidentally ingested something that was meant for her? They’re the only two women onboard...”

 

“That would mean one of the crew is a double agent.” Chip shook his head. He knew Lee was reaching for straws but he couldn’t condone it. Even more, there was the niggling doubt in the back of his mind that something wasn’t quite right with Clarice’s photo on the book Dey had given him. Hell, maybe he was getting paranoid. Maybe he was starting to see cloak-and-dagger plots and counter-plots behind every corner but, when it came right down to it, the only stranger on Seaview was Clarice Stockton.

 

He needed to have his freaking head examined. The woman was a respected scientist and pacifist with a track record to rival Gandhi. The Brussels Consortium had to practically pry her from her hermit-cave to get her to attend the conference.

 

And yet that damn photo continued to gnaw at the back of his mind. He didn’t know why he thought something was ‘off’ with it, just that he’d been unable to dismiss the sensation. Maybe he was simply tired, overworked and worried about Lee.

 

“If Alyssa didn’t take something,” Lee said, his voice bitter with a razor edge, “Then someone had to give her something. Toxins just don’t magically appear. Someone could have tampered with her food or drink, intending it for Clarice.”

 

“I’ll look into it,” Chip said, wanting to be able to do something - - anything - - to bring his friend a measure comfort. 

 

And what are you going to do when all the investigating in the world still comes up empty? When the answers, if there are any, are found too late for Alyssa?

 

For Lee?

 

Chip squashed the ugly thoughts, too panicked to think of the outcome. He locked a hand behind Lee’s neck, looking at him steadily. “I’ll do whatever I can. You know that, Lee. Anything you need, all you have to do is ask. I won’t be far, buddy. I’m here for you. And her.”

 

Lee closed his eyes, his mouth tightening in a pained grimace. “Thanks.”

 

Chip tugged, pulling him forward. There was a brief moment of resistance, then Lee let himself crumble and Chip hugged him close. “She’s going to get through this,” the blond-haired man whispered against his ear. He hated himself for dredging up platitudes, but it was the only belief he could cling to - - for Alyssa. For Lee.

 

When Lee drew back his eyes were lowered, fringed by the dense veil of his lashes. “There is no tomorrow without her,” he said.

 

In that moment Chip understood it wasn’t just Alyssa’s life in the balance.

 

It was Lee’s too.

 

**********

 

Lee was inconsolable and Chip couldn’t blame him. It was clear Jamie was doing everything he could but Alyssa’s vitals continued to drop. He doubted it would be long before the doctor was forced to place her on a ventilator. Seaview was already running at flank speed, diverting for the nearest port. With the Flying Sub inoperable, there was no way to transport her quickly. And with communications down, any attempts of calling for an air lift rescue were out of the question. Kowalski and two other men were searching the boat for disruption devices but so far had come up empty.

 

Discouraged, Chip left Lee in Sick Bay and headed for his cabin. If only he could talk to Dey. She always had a way of making him feel better. He had to face the very real possibility that Alyssa was going to die. He simply couldn’t imagine what that loss would do to Lee, especially to have it happen like this. It just didn’t make sense. To go from being vibrantly healthy to critically ill. He’d already heard the speculation about attempted suicide but didn’t believe it. The Alyssa Halston he knew would never do anything so desperate or foolish. She loved Lee entirely too much to hurt him like that.

 

Inside the cabin, he headed for his desk. Plopping into the chair, he yanked open the center drawer and started rummaging for pencil and paper. It always helped to order his thoughts. Maybe if he wrote down everything that had happened since they’d left port - - all the technical glitches - - he’d find a pattern. If they could only get the Flying Sub operable, they still might be able to save Alyssa.

 

He pulled a tablet free, surprised to find Clarice Stockton’s book wedged between the sheets. It tumbled onto the desk face-first, and he picked it up, struck again by her photo on the back cover. What was it about the damn thing that wasn’t right? 

 

“You’re so close to solving it.”

 

The soft voice intruded, wrenching him from his thoughts. He glanced up to find a stunningly attractive woman with flowing white hair standing in front of his desk. Shocked, he jerked to his feet.

 

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” He’d never even heard the door open. Was this their saboteur, the one responsible for poisoning Alyssa and pioneering all the operational glitches they’d been having? He started to depress the speaker on his desk, readying to call security, when the woman laid a hand over his. Her touch was light and insubstantial with an oddly calming effect.

 

“You don’t need to do that, Commander. I bear you no ill will. I could never harm Seaview or her crew. It is my place to protect them.”

 

Baffled, Chip withdrew his hand. “Protect?” He circled around the desk to confront her. “I’ll ask you again - - who are you? How did you get in here?”

 

She smiled gently. “Perhaps we should talk some place else.”

 

Chip felt himself falling into her eyes. There was no other way to explain it. One moment he was snapping at her, the next he was drawn into the unusual magnetism of her gaze. Her eyes were a strange blue-black like storm-streaked skies and deep ocean water. Compelled, he found he couldn’t look away, trapped in that mesmerizing kaleidoscope of painted shadows and sea. He blinked abruptly and found himself standing on the bank of a sun-drenched bay, the smell of salt air, warm sand and grass carried aloft by a westerly breeze.

 

“I am called Mae,” the woman said and walked past him. She sat on the bank, drawing her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms close. She wore some kind of filmy white gown, too sheer for modesty, her arms and feet bare. He hadn’t noticed in his cabin, but here the sunlight turned the gauzy material transparent. He could clearly see the curve of one bare breast through the airy fabric.

 

“Mae?” The name struck a buried chord in his memory but he couldn’t place it. Surely, he had to be dreaming - - back in his cabin, asleep at his desk. Sun-soaked bays and scantily-clad women didn’t appear out of nowhere. He was either delusional or dreaming, and since he wasn’t given to hallucinations, he figured the latter had to be true. He must have been more tired than he’d realized.

 

“Do you see that spot?” Mae pointed down the bank to a grassy area near the water’s edge. Top-heavy stalks of sea oats and slivers of eel grass bowed in the breeze. “Lee made love to me there and vowed never to forget me.” She turned her head to stare up at him. “I’m Seaview’s spirit, Chip. If you examine your feelings deeply enough, you’ll realize it’s true.”

 

Mae. The name came back to him now . . . the woman Lee had loved. Two years ago his friend had been critically injured during an explosion in Sick Bay, trapped with Chip. The exec had done what he could to pull his friend through. More than once, sometimes in delirium, Lee had spoken of Mae. He never did know if she’d been real or a figment of Lee’s imagination. After the incident, the captain had never mentioned her again. Why would he dream Lee’s make-believe lover into his own fantasy?   

 

He looked her over, realizing Dey would vivisect him if she knew about that sheer white dress.

 

Mae glanced away, looking to the bay. “Is my dress the only thing you can think about? Perhaps it would be less distracting if I clothed myself like this.” She stood, the sheer white gown replaced by the same smartly-tailored pantsuit he’d seen Clarice wearing earlier. Even that looked provocative on her. “Now perhaps you’ll look deeper into your heart and realize I am who I claim to be.”

 

“Seaview’s spirit?” He tried not to be blatantly condescending but the disbelief came through in his voice. “And you were in love with Lee?”

 

“I still am.”

 

“Then why am I here, and he isn’t?”

 

“Because I can’t reach him at this moment. His heart is too broken, full of grief. I’m afraid what might happen to him should Alyssa Halston die.”

 

Chip sobered. He was afraid of that too. It only made sense he’d include it in his dream.

 

“She has to live. For him. And you must help her live.”

 

“There’s nothing I’d like better, but how do you propose I do that?” Hadn’t he just spent the last half hour with Lee berating himself because he was powerless to help? Maybe Mae was some kind of demon-conscience resurrected by his guilt. He was thankful she hadn’t manifested as a squat imp with a Buddha-belly and a dog’s head. If he was going to project his limitations and failings into physical form, at least his subconscious had chosen a bewitching representation.  

 

A gull shrieked overhead and Chip tilted his head to glance at the sky. He immediately thought of sailors lost at sea. Legend said their souls became ocean-faring birds, following in the wake of ships. He’d seen men die at sea more than once, had even known a few to perish on Seaview. But Alyssa...

 

If she died onboard would Lee ever be able to step foot on the sub again?  

 

He sobered, sick to the stomach. The breeze raked across the grass, kindling a new burst of scents - - water-damp sand, seaweed and brine. He felt the touch of air on his cheek, was blinded by a flash of sunlight off the bay in the distance. He’d never seen water like that, blue-green, glittering like gemstones and melted glass.

 

“Dr. Jamieson said Alyssa has ingested drugs,” Mae told him. “If she didn’t have them herself, then someone had to give them to her. Find that someone.” She stepped forward, looking intently into his eyes. “Find the antidote.”

 

In the span of a heartbeat Chip was back in his cabin, standing behind his desk. The sudden sense of disorientation was so extreme he staggered off balance. A second later, he dragged a shaky hand through his hair. Hell, maybe he was the one who was on drugs! The whole thing had been a dream after all, but it had seemed so real . . . everything from Mae’s presence, to the touch and smell of the air, the vividness of the blue-green bay . . .

 

His eyes tracked to Clarice Stockton’s book still on his desk. In a quick-silver flash of understanding, he knew exactly what was wrong with her picture.

 

**********

 

Harry stood in the center of the cabin trying to think. He’d gone through the closet and the built-in chest of drawers beneath the bunk but found only clothing and personal items belonging to Alyssa. There was a part of him that felt like he was invading her privacy but a stronger part had no such qualms. She was dying of an unknown ailment, probably the result of a drug. The only weapon he had was to find whatever she’d taken. 

 

He knew it could have been unintentional, something ingested in food or through the air, but the fact Jamie couldn’t pinpoint it led him to think it was more deliberate. He still couldn’t believe she’d intentionally take something to harm herself but, at this point, the only thing he cared about was saving her life. He’d sort through his conscience - - and hers - - later.

 

Harry moved to the head and rooted through the drug cabinet. Aspirin, deodorant, face cream, toothpaste, birth control pills. 

 

Interesting. 

 

She hadn’t reached menopause yet. It couldn’t be far around the corner and that had to be weighing on her, especially given Lee’s young age. But would it be enough to make her do something despondent?   

 

Absolutely not.

 

Distractedly, Harry rubbed the back of his neck and tracked back into the cabin. He’d been caught off guard when Lee admitted to asking Alyssa to marry him. Worse, he couldn’t forget the look on the captain’s face when he’d relayed her refusal. 

 

Damn Ali for being so stubborn!

 

Sure, there were obstacles in her relationship with Lee, but there were plenty of couples who’d faced and overcome greater trials than a difference in age, however sizable. On the surface it was a messed up situation if he stopped to analyze it - - his ex-wife in love with a man he considered a son. A man who was sixteen years younger than her (somewhere a psychoanalyst was waiting to have a field day with that one), but screw the naysayers. The whole thing worked in Harry’s opinion. 

 

Lee and Alyssa were devoted to each other. Utterly, completely. He could think of no greater pleasure than seeing them married. 

 

It tore him up inside thinking about Lee in Sick Bay, Ali near-lifeless, trapped in that god-awful coma. He wanted to be there for both of them. But he wasn’t sure he was welcome. He knew Ali had been irked at him for the way he’d treated Lee. Hell, he was irked at himself. He’d reacted badly when Lee confronted him about Clarice Stockton, but he’d been angry and hurt the younger man would believe something so contemptible of him. 

 

He’d never made any comment to Clarice about Alyssa’s age. He’d never even mentioned Ali or Lee, except as related to their presence on Seaview. Ali would never make up such a story and neither would Lee. That left Clarice, something that was still troubling him.

 

Worse, the whole convoluted mess had driven a wedge between him and Lee. Harry knew he couldn’t keep stepping around it, especially when he knew how badly the younger man was hurting. 

 

Swearing softly, he crossed to the desk and rummaged through the drawers. Nothing. Maybe he was wasting his time. Maybe Alyssa’s illness was some mystery ailment that had been slumbering in her for decades. With all the places she’d traveled in her career, she could have picked up something anywhere - - a germ or bacteria that had lain dormant, triggered now by age.

 

He was about to leave when he spied something from the corner of his eye. He’d left the door to the head standing open and spotted a small glass vial wedged under the sink. A scant finger of electric green dribbled from the base toward the mouth, a gossamer-thin coating of clinging liquid. 

 

He was there in a few strides, picking it up to examine it under the light. It had a strange odor, reminding him of wet newspaper and chalk. He tapped a drop onto his finger and rolled it against his thumb. It felt grainy, not altogether smooth, beading on his skin like oil floating on water.

 

With a grimace, Harry fisted his hand around the vial and headed from the cabin.

 

**********

 

Kowalski popped the grille on the air duct and crawled into the ventilation passageway. He hoped Pat and O’Malley were having better luck. He knew there had to be something onboard that was interfering with operations. Too many systems had gone down - - communications, engineering, the Flying Sub, there’d even been a minor glitch with the reactor. He’d swallow one, maybe two, but three or more malfunctions reeked of deliberate sabotage.

 

So far his search of the sub had been fruitless. It didn’t help that his mind kept wandering, worrying over Alyssa Halston. He still couldn’t believe she was in Sick Bay fighting for her life. He’d danced with her just a few short days ago. The guys had given him a hearty round of ‘attaboys’ and claps on the back afterward. He’d been brave enough to ask her when no one else would venture the request. Yeah, they’d egged him on, but it was Alyssa who’d made him feel like a king. 

 

He liked her. Liked her a lot. And, hell, you’d have to be a grade-A dunce not to recognize how good she was for the skipper. He thought highly of Lee Crane. It was more than just the everyday respect a subordinate had for a superior officer. He genuinely liked Crane, even thought of him as a friend. 

 

Ski wasn’t stupid. He knew there were lines he’d never be able to cross. But he also knew Crane had banished most of those barriers, giving him a friendly familiarity and access few non-coms had. Which was why he was still searching the boat three hours after his watch was up. For Crane - - and Alyssa - - he had no intention of stopping.

 

As he crawled into the ventilation duct, the sheet metal protested with a loud pop. Ski knew exactly how it felt. He’d crawled through enough of the squat rectangular passageways over the last several hours to make his knees and palms protest painfully as he inched forward. 

 

Eventually he reached an intersection he’d scouted before and retraced his path. He kicked out the grille, still seated in the rectangular opening, when he spied the face-plate of a tool hatch ajar. He’d been over the room earlier. It housed excess stores and supplies, along with boxes and crates of rarely used equipment. He’d spotted nothing out of the ordinary during his initial inspection, but he was viewing everything from a different angle now.

 

The hatch was situated to the left of an equipment locker, the face-plate secured by four break-away clips. In an emergency, the plate popped off easily. The boat’s provisions insured that a small torch, cutting tools and breathing mask were stored inside. At room level the plate had appeared flush, but at his elevated angle, Ski could see the clips didn’t line up.

 

Vaulting from the air duct, he dropped into an easy crouch as he landed on the deck. He had ‘that’ feeling before he even pulled the plate away. The one that said he was going to strike gold. 

 

And sure enough there it was, nestled inside the recessed tool hatch - - a small portable transmitter with a three-inch view screen. From what Ski could tell it, it was sending out jamming signals to at least four key operational areas. 

 

“You’re toast,” he said to the blinking device and yanked it from the hatch.

 

**********

 

Chip was halfway to Nelson’s cabin, Clarice Stockton’s tiny book rolled into a tube and clutched in his hand, when he encountered the admiral in the corridor. “Sir, I need to see you.”

 

Nelson scowled, single-minded. “Not now. “ I’ve to get this to Jamie.” He held up a small vial between his thumb and forefinger, a thin sliver of radiant green liquid clinging to the glass. “I found this in Alyssa’s cabin. I think it might contain traces of the drug she took.”

 

Chip blinked. “Are you sure?”

 

“No, I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything which is why I’ve got to get the damn thing to Jamie. Come on.”

 

“Wait a minute.” Chip grew bold enough to grip Nelson’s arm, halting him in mid stride. “Sir, take a look at this.” He thrust the thin paperback beneath the admiral’s nose, Clarice’s photo facing up.

 

Nelson gave a distracted grunt. He took the book, turned it over, looked at the title and handed it back to Chip. “Clarice wrote this about six years ago. I’m familiar with her work.”

 

Chip frowned. Maybe he was making a big deal out of nothing. “Sir, look at her photo on the back cover.”

 

Nelson turned it over giving it a courtesy glance. “So she hasn’t aged much. What’s your point?”

 

“Don’t you notice anything wrong with that picture?”

 

Nelson scowled heavily his patience reaching an end. “I don’t have time for guessing games, Mister Morton. If you have a point to make, I suggest you do it quickly.”

 

“Sir. The woman in that picture has brown eyes. Dark brown eyes. And unless I’m color-blind, Dr. Clarice Stockton - - or at least the woman claiming to be Dr. Clarice Stockton - - has the most vivid blue-green eyes I’ve ever seen.”

 

Nelson sobered, his impatience melting abruptly. This time when he looked at the photo, his glance was attentive, his mouth tightening in a grim line. “Where did you get this?”

 

“From Dey. She wanted me to have Dr. Stockton autograph it for her.”

 

Harry shoved the book back into his hands. “I think Dey has just helped us solve part of our problem.” He inclined his head toward the end of the corridor. “Come on. Let’s go see Jamie and come up with some concrete answers.”

 

***********

 

Jamie took the vial from Nelson, holding it up to the light. He passed it beneath his nose, then tapped a smudge onto his finger and rolled it before sniffing again. “I’ve got to run it through an analyzer, but my guess is it’s a synthetic compound.” His gaze shifted to Lee who was hovering anxiously nearby. Along with the admiral, captain and a corpsman, Chip Morton had also crowded into Jamieson’s small office. The doctor had lost track of time but, looking at Lee’s overly-drawn face, guessed each second without Alyssa’s smile and laughter was equivalent to an hour without end for the younger man.

 

He passed the vial to his assistant, the only corpsman on Seaview’s pared down crew. “Run the tests as quickly as you can, Daltry.”

 

“Aye, Sir.”

 

As soon as the man left, Jamie turned to Lee. “You didn’t recognize that vial?”

 

“No. And I told you - - Alyssa wasn’t taking anything.” He said it belligerently, but Jamie heard fear more than anger.

 

The doctor hedged. He knew celebrities sometimes had dual lives, indulging in illegal drugs, getting trapped into addiction while presenting a wholesome image to the world. Surely Lee would know, or at least suspect, if Alyssa was dependent on something. He couldn’t believe it of her, but it wasn’t his place to pass judgment. His only concern was saving her life and, at the moment, he wasn’t going to rule out anything.

 

“Let’s assume it wasn’t hers,” he said, knowing Lee was on a hair-trigger and ready to snap. “What was it doing in her cabin?”

 

“Someone gave it to her.” Lee tensed as if preparing for a physical confrontation. “I know what you’re thinking, Jamie - - celebrity, money, designer drugs. Alyssa isn’t like that. I’ve been with her for almost two years. I would know if she was using.”

 

“All right. Just take it easy.” Jamie raised a palm, motioning for him to calm down. He knew the young captain was only doing what came naturally - - defending the reputation of the woman he loved. “She got this from someone. Who would have given it to her?”

 

“I think I know.” Chip spoke to the room in general. He held out a slim paperback, turning it over so the back cover was exposed. 

 

Jamie was surprised to see Dr. Clarice Stockton staring back at him. He was even more surprised when Chip explained how he’d come by the book and the difference in the woman’s eye color.

 

“So you’re suggesting the Clarice Stockton we have onboard is an imposter?” Had they all started to grasp at straws or was there some other explanation for the variance in eye color? He knew tinted, cosmetic lenses were just around the corner and would likely be marketed to the public within the next two years. Maybe Stockton had been supplied with a test version, though a hermit-like research scientist didn’t seem vain enough to worry about her eye color. On the other hand . . . “If I were going to impersonate someone, I’d be sure to get their eye color right.”

 

“Except who would know?” Chip persisted. “Stockton’s well-known as a recluse. There are probably very few photos of her and, from what Dey has told me, this book flew below the radar. Maybe our imposter did the best she could.”

 

“But why give Ali the drug?” Harry wondered aloud.

 

Jamieson’s glance switched to the admiral. The man looked thoughtful as though calculating and discarding several possible theories at once. “Ali and Clarice have spent a good deal of time together ever since leaving port,” Nelson muttered, then paused. “Discussing what?”

 

“Isn’t that obvious?” Lee exhaled in frustration and ripped a hand through his hair. Aggravated, he started to pace. “Alyssa is hung up about her age. She’s been miserable on this trip ever since...” He stopped abruptly, slanting a sideways glance at Nelson.

 

The admiral scowled heavily. “All right, Lee, you need to know this. I never said anything - - I repeat, anything - - to Clarice Stockton about you and Ali. You blindsided me in my cabin with that accusation, and I reacted impulsively by relieving you of command. But damn it, man, you should know me better than that!”

 

Lee blanched. “Then why would Clarice make a point to tell Alyssa?”

 

Lost, Jamie looked between the two, unable to follow the conversation. He knew something had happened to cause a falling out between admiral and captain but, unlike Chip Morton who appeared privy to the reason, Jamie was clueless. “Slow down. You lost me. What is this about Clarice and Alyssa?”

 

Still frowning, Nelson relayed what everyone else in the room already seemed to know.

 

“So she wanted Alyssa to be bothered by her difference in age with Lee,” Jamie concluded when the admiral was through.

 

Seaview’s captain glanced at him sharply. “To what end?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe so she could offer her some kind of comfort drug.”

 

At that moment Daltry came back into the room with a sheet of paper. Jamie knew it would contain a categorical print-out of the contents of the liquid in the vial. 

 

“Sir,” the young corspmen said. “I have the results you wanted.” He passed the paper to Jamie who looked it over quickly.

 

“Well?” Lee was a lion ready to pounce.

 

“All right, Daltry, that’s all.” Jamie waited until the younger man had left again. He wet his lips and glanced at Lee. “Sit down, Captain.”

 

“Damn it, tell me what it says!” Lee exploded. “That’s an order, Doctor.”

 

Jamie heard fire and steel in Lee’s voice but once again there was an underlying chokehold of fear. “It’s a synthetic compound as I suspected, but it appears to have been produced without purification.”

 

“Meaning?” Chip prompted.

 

“In the production of a synthetic, it’s not unusual to end up with varying compounds, not all favorable. Removing the desired drug from the rest of the mixture puts it through a process called separation and purification. That wasn’t adhered to in this case.”

 

Lee’s face grew white. “What are you saying?”

 

There was no easy way to convey it. “I’m saying I can’t save her. No one can. I’m sorry, Lee.”

 

“The hell with that.” Lee started for the door. “If Clarice Stockton is to blame, I intend to get to the bottom of this.”

 

“Stop right there, Commander!” Nelson ordered sharply.

 

Lee came to a halt just inside the door. He turned as if restrained by an invisible tether, breathing heavily, his hands balled into fists. “I am the captain of this submarine, Admiral. Unless you intend to relieve me of command again, I suggest you let me go about my business.”

 

Sensing the mood turning ugly, Jamie slipped into the treatment room. Through the crack in the fanfold doors he could hear Nelson reciting a regulation about loss of perspective due to emotional strain. Lee snarled something in reply, but Jamie had stopped listening. He quickly filled a hypo with a sedative and slipped into the corridor. When Lee barged from the office, he was ready.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” He jabbed the needle into Lee’s bicep.

 

A look of utter disbelief crossed the younger man’s face. “God, Jamie!” His voice broke, choked by betrayal. “Don’t you understand? The woman I love is dying . . .” Then his eyes rolled into his head and his knees buckled.

 

Jamie caught him before he hit the deck.

 

 

**********

 

Chip sat in Nelson’s cabin, morosely staring at his hands. “I still don’t understand why we don’t confront Clarice like Lee wanted.” He shifted, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. Leaving Lee sedated in Sick Bay had sent what little optimism he had crashing to the bottom of a well. Alyssa was still holding on but, according to Jamie, there was no hope of recovery.   

 

“We don’t have any proof she gave Alyssa the drug,” Nelson countered from the chair behind his desk. “She’d only deny it.”

 

“What about the book Dey gave me . . .her picture?”

 

“A variance of eye color? It might put a cloud on her identity, but it doesn’t establish intent to murder.”

 

Chip was about to protest again - - he had to do something to help Lee - - when someone knocked on the door.

 

“Come,” Nelson snapped gruffly, not bothering to glance up from the notes he’d been scribbling. Chip sensed the hard edge of his anger and guessed the admiral was every bit as worried and frustrated. He’d condoned Jamie’s action with the hypo but it had been through a necessity to protect Lee. As unbalanced and anxious as Lee was over Alyssa, he wasn’t thinking straight. On the off chance that Clarice Stockton was who she claimed to be, no one wanted Lee to throw his career away by going off half-cocked and trying to intimidate her into a confession.

 

“Mister Morton?” It was Kowalski who stepped into the cabin, a flat rectangular box in his hand. “I didn’t want to use the intercom so I checked the control room and Mr. O’Brien said I’d probably find you here.” He shot a glance at Nelson. “Admiral. I have something you both need to see.”

 

As Kowalski stepped nearer, Chip realized the thing he held wasn’t a box, but a transmitter with a small screen and keys for programming. It appeared to be dead, no longer emitting a signal. “Where did you find that?” he asked, rising to his feet.

 

Kowalski passed it to the admiral who immediately began turning it this way and that, examining every minute detail of the screen and keys. “It was in a tool hatch in the stores room below deck. Someone had pulled out the equipment but hadn’t clipped the faceplate on securely.”

 

Chip looked toward Nelson. “Our jamming device?”

 

The admiral nodded.

 

Chip felt the first flicker of hope he’d experienced since Alyssa had taken sick. “Good job, Kowalski.”

 

“Thank you, Sir. With that out of the way, maybe we can make the Flying Sub operational and get Ms. Halston to a hospital.”

 

“Agreed. Let’s get on it right away.” He headed for the door. “Come on, Ski.”

 

“Wait a minute.” Nelson stood.

 

Chip drew up short. “Sir?”

 

“Let’s think this through a minute.” He set the device down and walked around to the front of his desk. “Whoever planted that is expecting it to continue to throw out random disruptions, as well as keeping FS1 and communications inoperable.”

 

“Exactly.” Chip was edgy, itching to be away. They’d been working on the Flying Sub around the clock but, with the device no longer tossing out jamming signals, they had a solid chance of bringing everything back online.

 

“I want you to intensify work as planned. But when you get to the control room, page me over the intercom and tell me FS1 is operational.”

 

Chip wasn’t sure he followed. “Sir?”

 

“Whoever planted that device will hear the page and go to the stores room to investigate why their transmitter is no longer working.”

 

Chip grinned. “And you’ll be waiting for them?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

**********

 

Harry heard the door open, a hesitant step, then the rapid click of flat heels as Clarice moved determinedly to the tool hatch. It hadn’t taken her long to investigate Chip Morton’s announcement about the Flying Sub being operational. From his vantage point across the room, partially concealed by a large crate, Harry watched as she unclipped the face plate of the hatch and reached inside. She groped frantically, stretching her arm into the recessed opening.

 

“Looking for something?” he asked calmly, stepping from his spot of concealment.

 

Clarice whirled to face him, her face slack with shock. “Admiral.” It took a few seconds, but she made an attempt to recover her poise, parting with a light laugh. “You startled me.”

 

“Yes. I’m sure I did.” His voice was smooth, patronizing. “If you’re looking for your jamming device, we removed and disabled it. It won’t be long before everything is back online, operating the way it should be.”

 

“My jamming device?” Clarice’s brows drew together in a look of confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Harry shook his head, fully expecting the denial. “In that case, we’ll do our best to refresh your memory, Dr. Stockton - - or whoever you are.” Hooking her roughly by the arm, he escorted her toward the door. “If I were you, I’d start coming up with answers.”

 

**********

 

Lee gave a soft grunt, struggling to regain consciousness. His body felt heavy, his mind clouded and abysmally slow. In some disassociated part of his subconscious, he knew he’d been sedated. The drug was sluggish to depart, leaving him fighting for clarity and awareness.

 

“I think he’s coming around,” a disembodied voice said. He matched a face to it:  Will Jamieson.

 

“He’s going to be boiling mad.” That was Nelson.

 

Jamie sighed. “Would you rather I’d just let him go confront Clarice in the mood he was in, Admiral?”

 

“Of course not. You did the right thing.”

 

Lee mumbled a curse, annoyed the conversation was taking place around him. He forced his eyes open, blinking up at the underside of a rack. It took a second or two for the metal slats to align in proper focus, longer to realize he was lying on a lower-level bunk in Sick Bay. From somewhere in the distance came the soft, continual beep of a heart monitor. Lee shifted his head to the side to find Nelson and Jamie standing over him, both with matching grim expressions.

 

“Alyssa!” Lee bolted upright.

 

“She’s holding her own,” Jamie assured, stopping his mad dash with a hand to his shoulder. He pushed Lee back on the bunk. 

 

The younger man complied only because the muscles in his legs hadn’t caught up with his brain. He looked across the room to where Alyssa lay unmoving. “I thought it was a nightmare,” he muttered miserably. It was difficult putting all the pieces back together, his mind reacting to impulse rather than thought. He rubbed his eyes, readjusting to the ugly reality that the woman he loved was fighting for her life. Lifting his head, he glared at Jamie. “You hit me with a sedative,” he accused the doctor.

 

“You weren’t thinking clearly,” Nelson intervened.

 

Lee rose to his feet, face tight with anger. “You had no right,” he spat at Jamie.

 

The doctor held his ground, refusing to back down. “As Chief Medical Officer, I acted within my authority, Captain. In my judgment, any officer who is unfit for duty...”

 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Agitated, Lee brusquely waved the protest aside. “Just tell me how she is.” He started across the room for Alyssa’s bunk.

 

Nelson caught his arm. “There’s been no change, Lee. But you’ve been out for several hours and during that time we’ve made progress in other ways.” He nodded toward Jamieson’s office. “Step into the other room and I’ll tell you about it.”

 

***********

 

Lee went to Alyssa first. There may have been no change in her condition but that didn’t lessen his need to touch her . . . to bend over the bunk and clasp her hand, tenderly smoothing the hair from her forehead as he whispered that he loved her. 

 

Reluctant to leave her side, he eventually joined Jamie and Nelson in the outer office, dropping into a chair by the doctor’s desk. Propping an elbow on the edge, he scrubbed a hand over his face. How was it possible to be sedated for several hours and still feel like he hadn’t slept in days? “What did you learn?” he asked without looking up. 

 

Nelson brought him up to speed about Clarice Stockton and the jamming device. “The good news is we were able to get communications back online and FS1 operational.”

 

“That’s great!” Lee pounced on the news eagerly, leaning forward in the chair. “That means we can get Alyssa the help she needs.”

 

“Just wait.” Nelson stayed him with a raised hand. “It’s not as simple as it seems, Lee. Shortly after communications were restored, we got a message from the Institute. Clarice Stockton - - the real Clarice Stockton - - was abducted over a week ago and has been kept prisoner at a remote cottage all this time. Fortunately, she wasn’t harmed.”

 

“So the woman onboard is an imposter?” Lee looked up sharply. “That means everything she told Alyssa is a lie.” He swallowed, realizing it meant she had also lied about Nelson. His mind was already spiraling ahead, moving through deeper webs of deceit. “The drug...”

 

“I’m getting there.” Nelson propped a hip on the corner of Jamie’s desk, leaning closer to converse. “The real Dr. Stockton never saw the face of her kidnapper or the person who kept her detained. She managed to break free twenty-four hours ago and alert the police, who contacted NIMR.”

 

Lee was getting impatient. “Admiral, what does any of this have to do with Alyssa?”

 

Nelson drew back slightly. He flecked a glance at Jamie who still carried the same grim expression as before. The doctor gave a vague nod and Nelson continued. “Chip and I interrogated the woman we have onboard while you were out. Because of everything unraveling as it has, she’s agreed to cooperate in the hopes of saving her own skin. She told us her real name is Glenda Carpenter and that she was hired to impersonate Clarice, board Seaview and befriend Ali. The ultimate goal was to provide her with the drug she took.”

 

Lee stared blankly, unable to comprehend why anyone would want to harm Alyssa. Nelson must have read the question in his eyes.

 

“She doesn’t know who hired her. She said she never saw the man’s face. All of their communication was secret, conducted by phone or in shadows, and a partial payment for her services was delivered to a drop site. She was to collect the balance after she completed the job.”

 

Lee rose to his feet. “You’re saying she was hired to kill Alyssa? My God, Admiral, why would anyone...”

 

“She told me the man wanted it done as retaliation against you.”

 

The bottom fell out of Lee’s world. He felt the blood drain from his face, the walls bend close in a sickening whirl of suffocating pressure. With a bitterly-voiced curse, he ground his teeth. That someone would harm her because of him! “I’ll kill the miserable S.O.B. when I find out who it is.”

 

“Listen to me,” Nelson ordered curtly, bulldozing through his rage. “This woman - - Carpenter - - she admits lying to Ali, playing on her fears about the difference in age between the two of you. She told Ali the drug was experimental but safe, and would make her age more slowly giving you time to . . .” He groped for an explanation. “. . . catch up,” he settled for lack of better phrasing.

 

Lee looked at him appalled. “You’re telling me Alyssa took this drug because of me?”

 

Uncomfortable, the admiral averted his eyes. He paced to the other side of the room where Jamie had stood silently throughout the exchange. “He needs to know the rest, Will.”

 

Jamieson’s expression hadn’t changed, still bleak. He nodded, the regret for what he had to relay clear in his gaze. “Alyssa is stable at the moment, Lee, but there’s no antidote for the drug.”

 

“You said that before.” Lee felt his chest grow tight.

 

Jamie nodded. “We could transport her to FS1 and rush her to a hospital, but I’m afraid moving her would only quicken the . . . um . . .” It was his turn to avert his eyes. Even unspoken the words hung heavily in the room between them.

 

 . . . the end.

 

The finality had Lee struggling to hold his reaction in check. Pressure built in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. He was going to lose her. She was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Clenching his jaw, he kept his gaze level, his voice firm. “I want to be alone with her.”

 

Jamieson exchanged a glance with Nelson then nodded.

 

Without another word, Lee walked into the treatment area and closed the fanfold doors behind him. He stood a moment, breathing deeply, then looked toward the bunk. He pulled a chair close, but the move felt mechanical like someone else was orchestrating his actions. The world revolved in a fog, dense, painful and crushing. It rekindled every moment of loneliness and grief he’d experienced in his life - - from the death of his father to Mitchell Blake’s rejection and his mother’s self-absorbed indifference. 

 

Nothing had ever hurt like this.

 

Bowing his head, Lee buried his face in his hands and wept.

 

***********

 

It was beautiful. An idyllic bayside cove of sparkling water and tall sea grass. 

 

Alyssa closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky, basking in the buttered-rum light of the sun. Strange . . . she had to be dreaming. The last thing she remembered was being in her cabin and drinking the salty green liquid Clarice had given her. She’d had a terrible headache after that, a sharp pain in her chest, then nothing.

 

Except . . .

 

She thought she remembered Lee talking to her, his voice, broken and uneven. He’d told her that he loved her and begged her not to leave him, sounding terribly sad. She didn’t understand why he’d say such things. Was it because she’d rejected his marriage proposal? She had no intention of leaving him or going anywhere.

 

But now she was here . . .strolling through clumps of eelgrass and sea oats, the bay a glittering expanse of electric blue and sun-touched glass. Overhead, the sky was clear, threaded with a few stray wisps of clouds. Water lapped softly against the shore, burbling through sandy clumps of reeds and marsh grass. The breeze was light and warm, a phantom caress on her skin.

 

She stood, soaking in the surroundings, watching the diamond-bright play of sunlight on water. She couldn’t ever recall feeling so at peace. If only Lee were here to share the moment with her.

 

“He would be if he could,” a quiet voice assured her.

 

Startled, she turned. “Pardon?”

 

A tall white-haired woman approached, walking gracefully through the rustling eelgrass. She moved with an elegance and poise fashion models only dreamed of achieving. “Your captain,” the woman explained. “. . . he would be here if he could.”

 

“You know Lee?”

 

Something sad flitted through the woman’s eyes. They were an odd color, not truly blue or black, but a compelling mixture of both like deep ocean water and onyx. “Yes. I know Lee.”

 

Alyssa waited, expecting the woman to say more, but there was nothing. The silence between them was comfortable, oddly sheltering. She felt an instant rapport with the sorrowful, regal woman she couldn’t explain. It made no greater sense than how she’d come to be at the small cove with its sun-soaked sand and velvety grasses. The bay, the woman . . . everything felt surreal, wrapped in the slick candy gloss of make-believe.

 

“Am I dreaming?” she asked at last.

 

“Yes and no. Your body is in Sick Bay on Seaview, but your consciousness is here. You’re very sick, Alyssa.” The woman stepped nearer, looking at her gently as though fearful she was fragile. “Do you remember?”

 

It was there on the edge of her mind like a shadowy-dream flicker. Clarice, the drug, the reason why she’d taken it . . . then darkness and Lee’s broken voice, whispering to her of love and how he had no future without her. 

 

The dream lost its gloss, tinged by regret. “Am I dying?”

 

“Sadly, yes. At first I thought there might be an antidote for the drug you took. Now I know there is none. I wish it could be different.”

 

Pain pierced her heart. She didn’t even stop to consider that Clarice had poisoned her or that her life was fading. There was only one person who mattered. “And Lee?” Already she could feel the pang of separation splinter her soul. The woman didn’t need to answer. Alyssa knew what he was feeling. The haunted, broken quality of his voice abruptly made sense.

 

What was age or even a difference of sixteen years if it meant she would never see him again? She’d been a fool not to realize love transcended mundane hurdles like years. Love was spiritual. Eternal. When she was seventy-six and Lee sixty, he wouldn’t look at her and see a woman who was growing frail and aged, he’d see her soul - - the woman he loved. It was her own fear and vanity that had made her desperate enough to believe in a miracle drug. The thought of him suffering and mourning for her filled her eyes with tears. She was dying and she couldn’t even tell him how much she loved him.

 

The tall woman moved beside her, standing shoulder to shoulder. Alyssa watched the bay without seeing, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

 

“My name is Mae,” the woman said to the air.

 

Alyssa wiped at a tear. “Are you an angel?”

 

“I’m Seaview’s spirit. I inhabit the boat, protect her crew . . . and her captain.”

 

There was something about the way she said ‘captain’ that opened a door of understanding. Alyssa looked at her in surprise. “You love him too.”

 

Mae smiled sadly. “My time with Lee is over. His world is different than mine. You fear growing old before he does, and I mourn that he will age without me.” Her smile changed, softer with memory. “We were together once, but our time was brief - - the bright flash of a star in the sky. You’re his life now, Alyssa, and because of that, you’re part of my life too.”

 

Alyssa tried to make sense of the words, but it was too much to absorb. She was dying and would never see Lee again. The realization carried the cold kiss of a dagger. Yet, somehow, some way, she was talking to a stunningly beautiful woman who claimed to be an ageless spirit. A spirit that had inhabited Seaview and had loved her captain in human, physical form. Didn’t this woman understand that for her, a second of eternity without Lee was a second too long?

 

Perhaps she did.

 

Alyssa looked at her again, recognizing the pain in her eyes. Mae understood because Mae’s love for Lee was every bit as strong and everlasting as her own. Shaken, she wiped tears from her cheeks. “I wish I could see him one last time . . . tell him how much I love him.”

 

“It doesn’t have to end, Alyssa. My protection extends to you too.” Mae took her hand, smiling gently. “I need you every bit as much as you need me, but there will be a price for both of us.”

 

“I don’t understand.” 

 

“Sit with me and I’ll explain.” Mae took a seat on the grassy embankment, inviting Alyssa to join her. She tilted her head, her long silvery hair stirred by the breeze. “In the end, the decision is yours.”

 

***********

 

Chip found Nelson in his lab, looking as though he’d come from a funeral. A truly wretched comparison because, in a way, he had. They all knew there was no hope for Alyssa. A thick shroud had settled over the boat, the atmosphere stifled by a cloud of depression. The crew moved mechanically, barely speaking, each face longer and bleaker than the next. Lee had sealed himself in Sick Bay over twelve hours ago. It was now somewhere after zero-hundred and the sub was headed back to the east coast of the U.S. The Brussels Consortium of Scientists and the royal family had been notified of an incident on board that prevented them from completing the journey. Stateside, authorities had been alerted about Clarice Stockton/Glenda Carpenter. Once the ruse was discovered, the woman had talked as much as she could, hoping to minimize her involvement and shift the bulk of the blame to the man who’d hired her.

 

Chip had learned she was the one who’d botched Clarice’s eye color, styling her appearance after an old black-and-white photo, never realizing the real Dr. Stockton had brown eyes. It seemed a mundane point now, yet every time Chip thought of the gaffe, he was reminded of the secluded bay where he’d talked to Mae. He still wasn’t certain if she was real or if he’d dreamed the whole experience, only that she’d had an uncanny knowledge of what had taken place. She’d told him to find an antidote, yet according to Jamie there was none. Even Glenda/Clarice had said the same and, at this point, he believed her. There was no question the woman wanted to save her skin. If it was in her power to reverse the effects of the drug, Chip believed she wouldn’t hesitate. 

 

Instead, it had come down to a waiting game. By keeping Alyssa where she was rather than attempting to move her to the Flying Sub, it gave Lee more time with her. Chip wanted to be with his friend, supporting him through the tragedy but didn’t want to intrude. Instead, he decided to commiserate with the admiral.

 

Nelson looked as miserable as he felt, seated at his lab table, staring vacantly into space. The top was littered with the remnants of some unfinished experiment as if he’d made a half-hearted effort to occupy himself. Test tubes, papers, diagrams and slides were scattered haphazardly across the surface. Despite the shabby attempt at distraction it was clear that, like Chip, he couldn’t stop thinking of Alyssa and Lee.

 

Stepping into the room, the exec closed the hatch behind him. Nelson didn’t even bother glancing up, his gaze fixed on some distant spot across the room. 

 

“I can’t do this, Chip,” he said woodenly. “Sit here and pretend it isn’t happening.” Finally, he raised his eyes, his gaze hollow. “She was my wife once, and I still care about her. Maybe I don’t love her the same way Lee loves her, but I do love her. She’s dying and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

 

Chip wet his lips. He hadn’t thought about how Nelson was feeling, only Lee. Before he could say a word, the admiral cursed savagely. In a violent and, totally unexpected fit of rage, he stood and swept the table clear of equipment. Papers, glass beakers, microscope, slides - - it all went crashing to the deck. “What good is all this damn science if it can’t save her?”  

 

Chip didn’t have an answer. He wished to God he did. He’d even prayed to God but, right now, all that remained was the blue fury of Nelson’s eyes and the sad realization they were swiftly running out of time. 

 

“I don’t know, Sir,” he said quietly, his tone a dramatic counterbalance to Nelson’s explosive outburst. “Maybe you need to say goodbye to her too.”

 

**********

 

The fanfold door separating the treatment area of Sick Bay from Will Jamieson’s office was still closed. Harry stepped into the treatment room giving his eyes time to adjust to the lower lighting. Lee had drawn a chair to Alyssa’s bedside and sat slumped forward over the bunk, his left arm stretched behind her pillow, his cheek resting on the mattress by her shoulder. His right hand was curled around hers, his face turned in profile. 

 

Harry approached quietly, realizing the younger man had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Even in the dim lighting, he could decipher the remnants of salt-encrusted tear-tracks on Lee’s cheek, his features drawn with fatigue. How the hell was he ever going to bounce back after Alyssa was gone?

 

Harry’s eyes went to her face. Nothing had changed, her skin the same ghostly anemic-white, her breathing shallow but even. Jamie had removed the oxygen cannula. Without it, except for the pallor of her skin, Harry could almost believe she was sleeping. 

 

Except she was slipping away, minute by minute, second by second. Dying.

 

He moved to the foot of the bunk, resting his hand on her leg. Even through the blankets, her skin felt unnaturally cool. “I’m sorry, Ali,” he whispered. “I wanted the two of you to be happy. I wanted to toast you both at your wedding. I promise I’ll look after him for you.” He closed his eyes, overcome by a feeling of helplessness. Even with all his money, intellect, powerful connections, and the might of Seaview, there was nothing he could do to save her. He bit his lip - - angry, tormented, broken.

 

“Admiral?”

 

His eyes snapped open at the quiet voice. Lee was sitting up, his hair an untidy mass of black curls, eyes hollow and red-rimmed. Beard-stubble darkened his cheeks and his shirt was rumpled, partially unbuttoned. He looked like he’d crawled out of a hole somewhere, his features drawn, all sharp angles and planes. By contrast his eyes burned with color, a piercing blend of smoked-bourbon and avocado in the murky light.

 

Harry felt his throat constrict. He didn’t say a word, didn’t think he had it in him to speak. Lee lowered his eyes, the long web of his lashes fanning over his cheeks. They both knew it wouldn’t be long now. He could stay and wait it out but knew Lee didn’t want that.

 

The younger man raised Alyssa’s hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips. She seemed frail to Harry, fragile like an eggshell. He gripped Lee’s shoulder, feeling the muscles in his throat constrict. “Afterward . . . if you need me . . . I’ll be here.”

 

The captain pressed his lips together, fighting to hold his emotions in check. He managed a brief nod. “Thank you, Sir.”

 

Harry closed his eyes, swearing silently. It shouldn’t be like this. He’d screwed up from the start, treating Lee like an officer when he should have treated him like a son. True, the young commander had come to him in a belligerent huff, but his anger had been over a personal issue, not one that involved Seaview or the Institute. It was time Harry owned up to the fact he couldn’t have it both ways. He wanted Lee to be open and trusting, yet when the younger man had reacted with human emotion - - even it was misguided - - he’d responded by pulling rank on Lee and confining him to quarters. His captain had every right to vent without fear of reprisal when it came to his personal life. Maybe the problem was he wasn’t used to Lee Crane putting his feelings on the line. He was usually more guarded with his emotions but championing Alyssa had taken precedence over his normally precise control.

 

And where had all of that extreme temperament gotten them? Here, in Sick Bay, on the brink of the end of the world.

 

“Ah, damn it, Lee, I’ve been a colossal jackass,” he grumbled. He bracketed an arm over the younger man’s chest, hugging him back against his body. “I wish I could undo the last two days, tell you how sorry I am for the way I behaved. If I hadn’t been so angry . . . if we’d talked instead of shouted, I might have confronted Clarice sooner before she had the chance to give Alyssa that drug.”

 

Lee sighed, sagging backward against Harry. His breath escaped in a jagged rush of air. “You’re not to blame, Sir.” He hooked a hand over Harry’s arm, simply holding on. “It’s my fault for not being able to convince her our ages didn’t matter. I just couldn’t  . . .” He faltered and shook his head. “Nothing I said made a difference. I...”

 

“Don’t beat yourself up, lad.” Harry rubbed his shoulder. “She loves you, and that’s all that matters. I truly believe you were the one she was destined to be with.”

 

Lee gave a bitter laugh. He twisted in his chair, looking up at the admiral. “And now?”

 

There was no escaping the grim finality. The only comfort they had was Jamie’s assurance she wasn’t suffering. Harry lowered his eyes, speechless for once. 

 

Lee turned back to the bunk, folding Alyssa’s hand between his. He raised her fingers to his lips, tenderly brushing them with a kiss.

 

“Do you want me to stay?” Harry asked, the words tight and brittle in his throat.

 

Lee shook his head. When he didn’t say anything further, Harry turned to leave. His hand was on the doorknob when Lee’s soft voice drew him up short.

 

“I’m going  . . . to need you later, Admiral.”

 

Harry didn’t turn, knew the younger man wasn’t looking. How much had it cost to admit that? To ask for comfort when the bottom had fallen out of his world? Harry had an image of Lee balled up on his rack, sick with grief and fever.

 

He’d survive the ordeal. Harry would make sure of it. Somehow, someway, he’d make damn certain life didn’t end for Lee Crane.

 

“I’ll be here,” he vowed and stepped into the corridor.

 

**********

 

Lee retained his vigil by Alyssa’s bunk hours after Nelson had left. He’d spoken to her ceaselessly, hoping his voice would have an impact, but nothing he said or did . . . not the touch of his hand or the brush of his lips had the slightest influence on her catatonic state. He’d cursed to himself . . .wept, paced, mentally raging about the unfairness of it all. The emotional rollercoaster left him drained but grimly determined not to leave her side. He would stay until the end, until the last second. It was important to him that she know she wasn’t alone. He didn’t want her to be afraid. Even if she couldn’t respond, he hoped his presence brought her comfort.

 

He heaved a sigh, scrubbing both hands over his face. Bracing his legs apart, he planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, bowing his face to his hands. He’d lost track of the time, one slowly-crawling second as agonizing as the next. He guessed it was somewhere after 0300 and lowered his right arm for a glimpse of his watch. The watch Alyssa had given him on Valentine’s Day. He thought of the inscription on the back - - “Forever, Lyss” - - and clung to his belief of eternity. It was all he had now, the conviction he would see her again in an afterlife without pain and suffering. 

 

He blinked to bring the dial of the black-and-gold watch into focus:  3:33. The middle of the night . . . a slow, creeping void before dawn. Daylight, even a fabricated one underwater, seemed an eternity away, the night heavy and slumbering, smelling faintly of grave-clothes. As a child, he’d always found the hours between 2:00 and 4:00 the loneliest of the night. He could still remember waking up at the military school Mitchell Blake had banished him to, lying in bed, listening to the even breathing of the other boys. The dorm had been a web of musty gray shadows and still coolness, no movement, little sound. There’d been nothing to do but lie there in his loneliness and misery, waiting for the dawn to crest above the cold black ridge of night. 

 

3:33. There should be magic in a number like that, not misery.

 

“Lee?”

 

He jerked at the sound of her voice, whirling to face the bunk. At first he thought he was dreaming, imagining what his heart desperately wanted to believe. But then he saw her smile and the sight went through him like a bolt of lightning. Her face was rosy with color, her eyes sparkling with the enchanted sheen of silver.

 

“Alyssa!” He shoved the chair away, dropping to one knee at her bedside. His hands closed on her shoulders, lifting her and crushing her to his chest. He didn’t know how it was possible she could recover so completely . . . was terrified it was all a dream and he’d wake up to the cruel reality of life without her. He fisted a hand in her hair, holding tightly, drinking in the feel of her, the intoxicating scent of glorious life and sleep-warmed skin . . . assuring himself the moment was real. That she was real. 

 

“I thought you were . . . we thought . . .”  The sudden clarity that he might be hurting her ripped through his mind. He drew back abruptly, worriedly searching her face. “Am I hurting you? You should lie down. I’ll get Jamie.”

 

“Lee, no.” He started to pull away, half rising to his feet, but she gripped his arm. “I’m fine. Better than fine. Please - - I want this moment with you.”

 

He wanted the same, a million times over. Falling back to one knee, he kissed her hungrily, pouring every ounce of bottled frustration and love into the pledge of his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him, returning his kiss with the same fervent passion. He could feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks, knew his own were damp as well. When he could think and breathe, he pressed his brow to her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you.”

 

Alyssa knew she was crying but couldn’t stop. He drew back - - just enough to kiss her again - - her lips, eyelids and hair. Tenderly, he thumbed the tears from her cheeks, following that gentle touch with the brush of his lips. There were half-moons of dampness beneath his lower lashes but he seemed unmindful of the vulnerability. She realized it was the first time she’d ever seen him cry. Something told her it was an emotion he’d rarely indulged in since childhood. It was her fault for bringing him to this - - her proud captain forced to realize there were some things he couldn’t influence by sheer will and persistence. Some things he simply couldn’t best. If he had one flaw it was his propensity for perfection. Failure wasn’t an option. He not only succeeded in everything he set out to do, but exceeded over and above expectations. Only this time he had come up against a brick wall.

 

“How long have I been here?” she asked when she could speak again.

 

“I don’t know.” He cupped the side of her face, gently smoothing back her hair. “Too long. Jamie said . . .” He paused, his eyes moist, iridescent as moonlight on water. “. . . that you wouldn’t make it. Even Clarice...” He shook his head, irritated by the slip and quickly corrected himself. “The woman posing as Clarice said there was no antidote for the drug she’d given you. Lyss . . .” He swallowed hard, rounding his hand over her shoulder. “Someone hired her to go after you because of me. Do you understand what I’m saying? I nearly cost you your life.”

 

“Lee, don’t.” It came as a shock to think Clarice had lied to her, deliberately poisoning her with the intent to kill. But she wasn’t going to trade one obsession for another, age for fear of safety. Especially now when she realized how desperately she wanted - - needed­ - - to be part of his future. “I’m fine now.”

 

“With no explanation.” He grinned, wiping his eyes. “Not that I’m complaining.” Suddenly he smiled, the flash of his teeth blinding in the semi-dark. Laughing, he hugged her close. “I don’t care what the reason is as long as you’re healthy.”

 

A band of light slanted across the bed. “Alyssa?” 

 

She turned her head to see Jamie standing between the fanfold doors, frozen in the act of pushing them apart, his face slack with shock. It took only a second for him to shake off the stupor. “I heard voices. My God, how can you possibly be...?” Too stunned to spit out the remaining words, he crossed the room, frantically picking up her wrist to check her pulse.

 

“Jamie...” Lee attempted.

 

“Not now. Not now.” Jamieson shushed him with a waved hand, his mind clearly in hyper-drive. “This is impossible,” he mumbled. “No medical precedent. Lee, you’re going to have to leave. I need room. There are tests. Questions...”

 

“Jamie, I’m fine,” Alyssa assured. “I know it seems impossible to believe, but I guarantee you there’s nothing wrong with me. Can’t I get out of here and go to my cabin with Lee?”

 

Jamie stared at her slack-jawed. “Have you lost your mind? I don’t know what’s happened to bring about this miraculous recovery, but I’m not about to let you waltz out of here when you’ve been in a coma for two days.” He turned to the heart monitor, scanning the readings then quickly moved to another machine, frowning the entire time.

 

“Any chance you can at least disconnect me?” Alyssa asked, indicating the nodes, wires and IVs still hooked to her chest and arms. “I just want to stand up, Jamie.”

 

Lee hovered close. “Lyss, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Maybe you should listen to Jamie until we’re sure what’s happened.”

 

She raised an eyebrow, amused to find him siding with the doctor. “And since when are you a champion of doing what the doctor orders, Captain?”

 

Even Jamieson chuckled at that. He stopped fiddling with his monitors, glancing in her direction. “You certainly sound fine. I don’t suppose you have an explanation for what’s happened?”

 

She was silent for a moment before replying.

 

“Actually, I do.”

 

***********

 

Lee tried not to be obvious, but couldn’t help studying her. The differences to her features were subtle, her skin firmer and creamier. He’d always thought her the most stunning woman he’d ever seen yet now there was a glow of vitality and youth about her. The small traces of lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth were completely gone, her lips plumper and rosier. Even the lovely cascade of her hair was thicker.   

 

Jamie shook his head, flipping through the test results. Six hours had passed since Alyssa had regained consciousness. Now she, Nelson and Chip were gathered with Jamieson and Lee in Sick Bay. The fanfold doors had been opened between the treatment area and Jamie’s office to allow room for the meeting. Jamie had conducted an extensive series of tests, and they’d all listened to Alyssa’s brief explanation of what had happened - - both with Clarice, then later when she was unconscious. Since everyone else in the room had encountered Mae, Jamie was forced to admit the boat’s spirit just might be ‘real’ in a metaphysical sense.

 

“So what you’re saying,” Harry prompted the doctor after he’d finished a recitation of the test results. “Is that Alyssa has aged backward?”

 

“I know it sounds impossible,” Jamie admitted, glancing from the admiral to the open folder in his hand. “But everything indicates her relative age at approximately 40-41. X-rays, scans, bloodwork - - probably most compelling of all are her TSH levels. Alyssa, I’m willing to guess you were pre-menopausal.” He glanced at her questioningly, and she gave a hesitant nod. “Tests indicate that’s far from the case now. “ If you’re not already using some form of birth control, I’d highly suggest . . .”  He cleared his throat uncomfortably, shooting Lee an awkward glance. 

 

“There’s this as well.” He tapped the file with a forefinger. “I understand from your personal physician you broke your wrist three years ago, and the bones didn’t set correctly. Previous x-rays support that, yet the most recent set, taken just a few hours ago show no signs of a fracture. As we age, there should also be indications of normal bone degeneration, calcium deposits, often the start of arthritis. In your case, Alyssa, you had degeneration and mild arthritis in your neck. That too is completely gone. This isn’t simply a healing, but a complete reversal of age. If someone handed me these test results and nothing else, I’d say I was looking at the file of a forty-year-old woman. When we reach Santa Barbara and have direct access to your medical history we’ll be able to match your current results with past results for a true indication of your relative age.” Bewildered, he shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it except to say that you’ve lost approximately ten years.”

 

She smiled, looking at Lee. “That makes me only five or six years older than you.”

 

Off to the side, Chip blew out a breath and sat down, straddling a chair backward. “This is crazy. Stuff like this just doesn’t happen. There has to be some other explanation.” He looked to Jamie for support. “A radical chemical change or hormonal imbalance . . . something.”

 

“You met Mae,” Alyssa said, looking in his direction.

 

“So you want me to believe a mythical spirit is responsible for this?”

 

“She’s not mythical, Chip,” Lee said quietly, but he couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Alyssa had told them how she and Mae had talked. There was no question Alyssa knew of his past intimacy with Seaview’s spirit, yet she didn’t seem troubled by it. Part of him still clung to the practical belief the world of ghostly apparitions and phantasmal beings couldn’t and didn’t exist, but that part had grown steadily indecisive. He’d seen and experienced enough of the supernatural realm over the last four years to believe the impossible. Mae had saved Alyssa.

 

“She said there was a price for both of you.”

 

“Yes.” She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes. “I don’t fully understand what she did, only that in healing me she fused her consciousness to mine. It’s just a small part, but she’s with me, and that’s made me feel things I couldn’t before. Almost like a siren call to the sea.”

 

“Lyss.” Lee didn’t like the sound of what she said.

 

“It’s nothing,” she assured him. “I simply feel a deep connection to Seaview. The sub was always a marvel of ingenuity and technology, special to me, because she was special to you. But now . . .” She tilted her head, smiling as she tried to explain. “She’s more than a manmade creation. I thought you’d be pleased by that.”

 

“Lyss...” He tried again.

 

“Sometimes I can even hear Mae’s thoughts inside my head.”

 

“That’s your price,” Nelson interrupted from his position by Jamie’s desk. “What about hers?”

 

Alyssa’s eyes dipped briefly before returning to Lee’s face. “She has to share the man she loves,” she told Nelson, still looking at Lee. “It’s a double-edged sword for her. By sharing my consciousness, she gets to be with Lee, but never as herself. She feels what I do, experiences what I do. When Lee and I make love...”

 

“Don’t,” Lee cut her off, feeling a warm flush of color on his face. He turned away, raking a hand through his hair, discomfited. “This is crazy,” he mumbled. “So when I make love to you, I’m making love to two women?”

 

“It’s not that at all, Lee. There’s a small flicker of her consciousness with me, but it’s not a present awareness. It’s like recalling a memory - - something that’s always with you, even defines you, but you’re not aware of it unless you willingly think about it.”

 

He hedged, studying her openly. As much as he’d once loved Mae, that part of his life was behind him. He wanted Alyssa and only Alyssa. “Is that how it is for you? You have to think about her to feel her presence?”

 

“Not always, but it’s rare otherwise. She’s very respectful of our feelings, Lee. I’m not so sure I’d be as noble and self-sacrificing if our positions were reversed. She gave me my life, and an extra ten years all because she loves you. She never stopped loving you.”

 

He’d had enough. “Alyssa, I don’t want to talk about this. Mae and I . . .” He took her hands in both of his, struggling to make her understand. He owed Mae a debt of gratitude. He would always care for her and cherish the memory of their time together, but he couldn’t live in the past. He’d done that for most of his life, burdened by his father’s death and the misery of his childhood. He was done building his life around ghosts, however treasured they might be. “All I care about is you and our future together. I’m grateful for what’s happened, even if I don’t fully understand it.”

 

“I don’t think anyone does,” Jamie said with a loud exhale. 

 

Lee was glad for the distraction. These men were as close as he had to family, but he didn’t particularly care for discussing the intimate details of his love life in front of them.

 

“The biggest hurdle,” Jamie continued, “Is going to be explaining Alyssa’s sudden loss of age.”

 

“I’m not so sure that’s an issue,” Nelson interjected. “Physically, Ali doesn’t look a great deal different - - considering she always looked spectacular.” He grinned at her and winked. “She can lay low for a few weeks then tell everyone she took a break and came back rejuvenated.”

 

“And five or six years from now,” Jamie persisted. “When she still looks in her forties?”

 

“Plastic surgery,” Chip suggested, his arms folded on the top of the chair he straddled. “I mean aren’t models and actresses always having work done? Uh . . . sorry, Alyssa,” he said with an apologetic glance in her direction.

 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I think that’s a wonderful explanation and, given my profession, fully believable. It will drive my contemporaries nuts trying to figure out if I’ve found a miracle spa or just a really good plastic surgeon.”

 

“You’re taking this awfully lightly,” Lee said.

 

“And why shouldn’t I? I’m a forty-year-old woman.”

 

“We think you’re a forty-year-old woman,” Jamie clarified. 

 

Days later when he was finally able to study her previous medical records, he determined her new age was forty-one.

 

***********

 

Lee reclined on the wrought-iron chaise lounge on his deck, the plump cushions every bit as thick and comfortable as he remembered. His legs were spread, Alyssa nestled in the “v” between them, her back to his chest. She rested with her head on his shoulder, his arms hooked around her waist. It was a favorite pastime, watching the stars overhead, a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses on a small table beside them. The ocean hissed softly against the beach, a half moon riding the waves like a crescent of gold foil. The wind was warm, scented with sea and sand and the heady musk of impossible dreams. Lee was wearing jeans and a white shirt, Alyssa a lilac-and-cream sundress that ended in a flirty flounce above her knees. She’d kicked off her sandals in the house, curling her bare feet against his legs.

 

A full two weeks had passed since Seaview had returned to Santa Barbara. During that time Jamie had been given full access to Alyssa’s medical records, with her permission, and reconfirmed his hypothesis from the boat. He ran additional, more extensive tests and concluded, despite what her birth certificate said she was forty-one years old. Given the whole situation resulted in erroneous data, it was determined Jamie would henceforth be her personal physician. To the outside world she remained a fifty-one year old model, apparently vain enough to dump a fortune into her looks. Alyssa dropped a few well-placed hints to the right people and rumors began to circulate that she’d never been on Seaview but had gone to an undisclosed health clinic for cosmetic laser treatments.

 

The tabloids had a field day with it. Lee could still recall one of the headlines Chip had dumped on his desk to prove the ruse was working:  Young Captain Flies Aging Model to Beauty Doctor. The article had gone on to say how he’d used FS1 to fly Alyssa to a secret location in the Swiss Alps where she’d undergone cosmetic treatments and Botox injections. They even had a “reliable source” and “person close to the model” quoted as saying she’d been fearful Lee would start looking at younger women and had been desperate to do anything to keep his eye from wandering. 

 

Any other time Lee would have gritted his teeth and called the whole thing trash, but this was one occasion when he and Alyssa were thankful for the rumor mill and scandal sheets. It would benefit them both in the long run. The public could think what it wanted while he, Jamie, Chip and Nelson knew the truth. The only other person they’d made privy to the situation was Nicole Rook. Not only was she Alyssa’s closest friend, but she had a unique perspective of the metaphysical world. Alyssa wanted to include her in the secret in order to have another woman to talk to, and the rest agreed it was a good idea. 

 

Nicole had been the one to dream up the “backward birthday party.” Lee thought it was a great idea and somehow, with Nicole’s planning and help, managed to pull it off as a surprise at his beach house. Nelson, Chip and Jamie had shown up with the food - - an assortment of salads, appetizers and gourmet pizzas cut into tiny squares - - while Nicole had brought a large bouquet of colorful balloons. Lee supplied the drinks and the cake, a strawberry and cream confection that he crowned with two numbered candles, a “4” and a “1.”   

 

It had been a great evening, the party wrapping an hour ago. They’d left the mess of dishes and balloons inside, Alyssa kicking off her heels as Lee grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses to carry outside on the deck. Before he’d met her it had been his habit to sit alone at night, watching the sky, listening to the music of the surf. He’d always liked the solitude and the privacy the secluded beach house afforded. Now he couldn’t imagine not having her to share those moments.

 

Glenda Carpenter and the man who’d hired her had almost taken Alyssa away from him. He still didn’t know who was behind the plot. Carpenter had no more information than she’d already given to Nelson and Chip. She’d been turned over to the authorities the moment they’d arrived in Santa Barbara, and the investigation was continuing. Lee knew he’d made his share enemies over the years, particularly through his work with ONI, but there were only a handful he considered vindictive enough to go after Alyssa in order to hurt him. From now on he vowed to be more vigilant with her protection, especially until the man who’d hired Carpenter was caught. It worried him the man was still on the loose, but he knew the police were doing everything they could, following up on the few leads they had. 

 

He’d already put his own network into motion, trying to track down the killer. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in the police, just that Alyssa was far too special to him to leave matters unresolved or in the hands of others. Nelson had pulled out all the stops too, manipulating what strings he could to ensure the investigation was given high-priority status. For his part, Lee vowed he wouldn’t rest until the culprit had been found. He might have bowed out and backed away, but he feared it wouldn’t make any difference - - the killer would still go after her.

 

Although he hadn’t discussed it with her, he’d already thought of added measures for her safety, including new locks on both their homes, improved security systems, and the addition of surveillance cameras at her office. He’d even debated about hiring a bodyguard for her. Yes, she would balk, but that was an argument for later. He’d do whatever it took to protect her. Right now he was enjoying the moment too much to bring up something that would remind them both of the painful time on Seaview. 

 

She snuggled more comfortably into his arms, and he caught the scent of jasmine from her hair. She’d always had gorgeous hair, but it was thicker now, fuller, not a single strand of gray among all that bronze and cinnamon-red. He’d noticed other changes too . . . more intimate details of her body when they made love. She even moved differently, her grace and poise almost fluid, as though her muscles had found new elasticity. Sometimes he thought he saw Mae in the way she moved - - elegant and lithe - - but the flashes were brief, gone much too quickly for a lasting impression. What he liked most was how content she appeared, at peace with herself.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” he asked referring to the party.

 

He sensed her smile. “You know I did. You’re going to spoil me.” She twisted in his arms to gaze up at him, her eyes bright with the sparkle of silver. “You should have heard Nicole grumbling because she’s actually three years older than me now.”

 

Lee chuckled. “Next I’ll be accused of robbing the cradle.”

 

“I don’t think so, Captain, given you don’t look much past thirty yourself.” She fingered the collar of his shirt, white as meringue in the darkness. “And you’re still six years younger. I think I like that gap. I can stay a scandalous older woman with a sexy younger man, but now we can age together.”

 

He raised a hand and cupped her cheek, tracing his thumb along the curve. “Was it that important to you?” They hadn’t talked about her taking the drug or the desperation it implied. Even now, he almost regretted bringing it up.

 

Self-conscious she dropped her eyes, then turned on her hip so she could cuddle against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest over his heart. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I thought it was at the time.” The breeze caught the edge of her sundress and ruffled the hem.

 

“Don’t you know how much I love you, Lyss? How much I’ve always loved you?”

 

She bit her lip and nodded. He felt her swallow and sensed tears in her eyes.

 

“Come here.” He sat up, pulling her with him. She seemed surprised when he gripped her chin, guiding her mouth toward his. Her lips tasted lightly of wine and strawberries. As he kissed her, he felt her heartbeat accelerate. She gave a soft moan, raising her arms and locking them behind his neck. He shifted, easing her beneath him until she was the one lying on her back and he was above, one jean-clad leg wedged between her knees. “I know why you took the drug,” he whispered against her lips, his eyes lowered as he searched her face. “Promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”

 

He saw a flash of pain in her eyes for the hurt she’d caused him, but she nodded. Raising his hand, he feathered his thumb over her bottom lip. “We have a second chance. Most people don’t get that opportunity. You don’t know how lucky that makes me feel, Alyssa.”

 

“No.” She shook her head, pressing her hand to his cheek. “I’m the lucky one. You loved me the way I was, but I was too blind to see it. I let fear cloud our future. I believed Clarice about Harry, and I let her play on my doubts. I’m so sorry, Lee. I love you so much, sometimes it’s frightening.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be.” He kissed her again, felt his pulse ratchet higher in anticipation. He’d planned nothing, wasn’t sure he could bounce back from another rejection, but had to know where he stood. Taking her left hand, he rubbed his thumb over her ring finger. “You have such beautiful fingers . . . graceful and elegant . . .” He looked into her eyes, willing her to set aside her reservations. “. . . perfect for a diamond.”

 

She drew in a startled breath.

 

“Marry me, Alyssa. I want to spend my life with you.”

 

She closed her eyes and, for a moment, he feared it was in regret. Then a tear slipped from beneath her lashes and she smiled. “Yes,” she said, laughing as she wrapped her arms around him. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

 

He crushed her to his chest, his spirit soaring on an unbelievable high. He hadn’t thought it possible - - at long last, after nearly two years, she had agreed to something he’d wanted from almost the moment he gave his heart. “I love you, Lyss.” He threaded his hand into his hair, claiming her mouth beneath his. Something giddy and purely elated shot through him. This was beyond the contentment he’d felt on New Year’s Eve. This was like flying to lofty heights, far and above every dizzying emotion imagined. 

 

This was bliss.

 

Lee drew back, looking into her eyes. “I didn’t plan this. I don’t have a ring.”

 

“I don’t need one right now.” Her features were soft, her eyes aglow with emotion.

 

He’d wanted it to be perfect - - candlelight, wine and roses. He’d planned to get down on one knee, take her hand, have the diamond already picked out. Instead, it was a spontaneous moment of love, the splash of moonlight on the deck the only jewel he could give her. He looked into her eyes, knowing the future wouldn’t be without obstacles, but they would face the hurdles together.

 

“Lee . . .” She kept her arms wrapped around his neck, smiling up at him. “I want us to be together always, but I don’t want to rush marriage. Mae gave me a remarkable gift, but I have no way of knowing how it will affect me a year from now or five years from now. I want to be your wife, but I want to make sure there won’t be repercussions from my age reversal.”

 

“What are you asking?”

 

“Only that we wait.” She touched his cheek, looking earnestly into his eyes. “Isn’t it enough to have the pledge of marriage between us? All I’m asking is that we don’t rush. I want to have the pleasure of being engaged to you before I become Mrs. Lee Crane.”

 

He thought of his mother’s disapproval and the scrutiny of the tabloids. Of the feeding-frenzy that would follow the announcement of their intent to marry and realized he didn’t give a rat’s ass. In a way, it was almost amusing. All he cared about was her. About them and their future.

 

“I can live with that,” he said. “As long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.” This time when he kissed her, he skimmed his hand up her thigh, reaching beneath the hem of her sundress. He’d have to buy a ring and do the whole thing right with wine and candlelight, getting down on one knee to ask her over again. But for the moment all he cared about was meshing his spirit to hers. 

 

She moaned as he kissed her, his hand rounding the south curve of her bottom beneath her sundress. He pushed the dress high on her hip, her panties the color of violets bathed in starlight. He thought about slipping them off, having her bare and naked beneath him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made love to her on the deck, the breeze and a dappling splash of the moonlight, the only witnesses to their passion. Instead, he nuzzled her ear, whispering how much he loved her, suggesting they go upstairs. 

 

The first time he’d made love to her had been in his bedroom. It was only fitting he take her there now, knowing she’d pledged to be his wife. 

 

“Are you happy?” he asked. He wanted her to feel what he’d felt on New Year’s Eve, the contentment of knowing his future was decided - - that no matter the obstacles or the opinions of others, their future was sealed now and for eternity.

 

Alyssa smiled up into his eyes. “I’ve never been happier, Lee.”

 

It was more than enough for all the tomorrows to come.

 

*****End*****

 

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