Christmas Ever After (Puffin Island 3) - Page 96

“I’m not a module to be studied. You’re not going to pass or fail. If you’re interested in something, ask. If you’re not, don’t.”

He made it sound so simple.

“I’m interested.” She glanced up as Kirsti arrived back at their table with drinks. “I’ll have the gourmet burger with skin-on fries. Thanks.”

Alec handed the menus back without looking. “I’ll have the same. With extra fries. Is Ryan here?”

“On the phone with some rich dude who wants to park his yacht here over the winter.” Kirsti tucked the menus under her arm. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Sky gave Alec a questioning look. “You missed lunch, too? You ordered extra fries.”

“Those are for you. To stop you stealing mine.”

She peered at him and saw the smile tug at the corners of his very sexy mouth. “Smartass.”

“Princess.”

A week ago that term would have irritated her extremely. Now it made her smile. Or maybe it was the way he said it that made her smile. “How did you get the name ‘Shipwreck Hunter’?”

“The first TV series I ever presented was about shipwrecks. They’d invited me to be an advisor, but I ended up in front of the camera. It went from there.”

“But why shipwrecks? Was your uncle responsible for that?”

“Partly. He used to tell me stories that kept me awake at night. I’m sure he exaggerated and elaborated to feed my imagination. And he succeeded.” He reached for his beer. “There’s something mysterious about a shipwreck—they’re often shrouded by unanswered questions. Some ships become lost in the fog, others stray off course in bad weather and succumb to unpredictable swells or hidden sandbanks. This is the most hazardous stretch of coastline in the whole of the Eastern Seaboard. It was the coastline and shipwrecks that drew me here in the first place.” His deep, dark tones made her shiver.

She could picture him, standing on the deck of a ship, absorbing the rise and fall of the water. “I’m imagining swashbuckling pirates who look like Johnny Depp.”

“There wasn’t much piracy on the Maine coast, although there was some. But there were plenty of shipwrecks. To a young, bloodthirsty boy it was exciting. I was hooked. I begged Harry to take me diving with him and eventually he did. We started with a few dives off the British coast. Those were dark, murky experiences. Then on one of his visits he told me about the HMS Albany, which ran on the ledges of the Northern Triangles in the middle of a winter storm in 1782, right at the end of the American Revolution.”

“It was an American ship?”

“British. The enemy.” His eyes gleamed. “Captained by Henry Mowat, who spent the best part of a forty-year career patrolling the North American coast. It was initially used to defend against the Penobscot Expedition, but it had been downgraded to a prison ship when it sank. There are hundreds of shipwrecks on this stretch of coast.”

“So you studied—what? Maritime history?”

“Marine archaeology. Maritime history came later. I wanted to dive. A shipwreck is a time capsule full of hidden secrets. It was one big adventure for me.”

She loved his enthusiasm. “Ever find any treasure?”

“Very few ships carried treasure. The galleons sailing from the New World to Spain carried gold ingots and coins and the Indiamen traded precious metals for spices in the Far East, but generally the value of most historic shipwrecks can’t be measured in monetary terms.”

“You sound like Brittany.” She reached for her drink. “And now it’s the American Revolution. So how do you decide what to write about?”

His gaze locked on hers. “How do you decide what to paint?”

“I paint what interests me.”

“And I write about what interests me.”

“I didn’t even know there was a navy in the American Revolution.”

“Sea power played a significant role in American Independence. The thirteen colonies would have struggled without maritime support. Am I boring you?”

“No. And when we get home I want you to tell me all this again, while wearing your glasses.” She’d never particularly enjoyed history at school but somehow when Alec talked about it she could have listened forever.

The corners of his mouth flickered. “Glasses are a turn-on?”

“I think they might be.” She looked at his smile and wondered why she had ever thought him aloof and intimidating. Reserved, yes. Smart, definitely. But not aloof. “You were telling me about the navy. Carry on. Talk dirty to me.”

Tags: Sarah Morgan Puffin Island Billionaire Romance
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