Page 215 of The Black Trilogy

But the question was, did I want him to be?

Scuba diving soon became my second favourite activity, not quite as fun as flying but close. A magical world existed under the surface of the water, full of colour and beauty, and I found a peace down there that escaped me on land. Nick warned me it wasn’t always like that, and that diving in the balmy waters off the Mexican coast was a far cry from being tossed overboard in the North Atlantic and being expected to swim in near-freezing conditions to a landing point two miles away. But for now, I revelled in the power of the ocean, bewitched by its charms.

As a former SEAL, Nick made an excellent teacher. He lacked Black’s pushiness and Alex’s impatience, and I looked forward to each lesson. Even the horrid parts, like the mask-off drills and having to remove all my diving gear underwater then put it back on again, didn’t seem so bad under his tutelage.

Sunbathing on the beach wasn’t exactly a hardship either, and by watching the comings and goings at the nearby marina, we soon noted patterns of unusual activity. People would get on yachts at dawn and never disembark, and a couple of boats had endless boxes of cargo loaded without ever leaving to deliver it. Occasionally, we’d spot another ship on the horizon, and Nick took photos with a long lens while I cavorted in a bikini in the foreground.

“Left a bit. Now smile.”

Who did he think he was, David Bailey? I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the ship disappear over the horizon. Even with a telephoto lens, there was no way those pictures contained anything useful.

“You git.”

He gave me a heart-stopping grin, and two women to the right of me sighed.

“I’m having fun. Aren’t you having fun?”

I marched up to him. “What are you planning to do with those?” I pointed at the camera. “Keep them as souvenirs?”

“What if I said yes?”

“I thought you were a gentleman?”

He pinched my bum then grabbed my hand as I went to slap him. “I lied.”

Nick’s colleagues confirmed several of the suspect boats had been seen in the Gulf of Mexico just off Texas, but they’d never docked in the United States. Despite careful surveillance by the coastguard, nobody saw their crews throw anything overboard, either.

We’d have to keep digging.

There was only so much time I could spend on a sun lounger without turning into a lobster, and we couldn’t skulk in the shade without looking suspicious. So, with the CIA’s funds at our disposal, we solved that problem by signing up for all sorts of water-based activities.

“How on earth do you stand up?” I asked, after my attempts at wakeboarding resulted in a near-drowning. Nick, of course, had probably surfed out of the womb.

“Try pointing your toes,” he called from his position in the back of the boat.

What do you know? It worked. Before long, I was zipping from side to side waving one arm in the air. At least, until I tried to copy one of Nick’s jumps and gave myself whiplash.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll massage it better later,” he said, purely for the benefit of the boat captain of course.

At least, I’d assumed it was for the benefit of the captain. Turned out it wasn’t.

After flying and diving, Nick’s fingers became my new favourite thing. Actually, maybe they even topped that list. Our married couple act became natural, and I held his hand through instinct rather than obligation. Kissing him was hardly a chore. When his lips touched mine, the golden sands outside our veranda weren’t the only thing feeling the heat.

“You might as well share the bed with me,” I told him at the end of the first week. Hearing his spine crack every morning as he rose from the tiled floor was giving me a backache.

“Are you sure Black won’t mind?”

“Even if he did, it’s my decision, not his.”

Despite starting off on separate sides of the mattress, my subconscious had other ideas, and I woke up in Nick’s arms. In that floating, dream-like moment between sleep and wakefulness, I nuzzled into his neck, relishing the warmth of his body in the chill of the air conditioning.

“Uh, Emmy?” he whispered.

Oops. “I’m sorry!” I rolled away, putting some space between us as I re-joined the land of the living.

“I’m not.” He stretched out his arm, inviting me back in.

I gladly went.

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