Make Her Pay Roxanne St Claire by Roxanne St. Claire 9781439102220, 1439102228 instant download after payment.

Bullet Catcher and former Navy SEAL Constantine Xenakis has infiltrated a dive ship to discover who's plundering priceless gems from a legendary sunken Spanish galleon. When he catches Lizzie Dare red-handed in the locked treasure room, her story of a stolen ancestral legacy convinces him to work with the sexy thief instead of turning her in -- and not just because he wants to find the real culprit. Lizzie is willing to risk everything to save the Bombay Blue Diamonds from her sworn enemy, even if that means giving in to an irresistible desire to get closer to her accomplice. But when passion hits them like a rogue wave and danger surrounds them like a school of hungry sharks, their adventure on the high seas turns treacherous...and deadly.

Roxanne St. Claire left her PR career to write full time. She lives in Florida with her husband and children.

Chapter One

"I don't normally make a habit of hiring thieves as security specialists." Lucy Sharpe met the cold blue gaze of a man she'd never imagined would return to the Bullet Catchers after she'd discharged him under a cloud of suspicion.

"Habits can be broken." Constantine Xenakis strode across the library and dropped into an antique chair that most men avoided, but his long, rugged body dominated the dainty seat, completely at ease. "Kind of like rules. And locks."

"Dan Gallagher mentioned you were as confident as ever."

"As I recall, that's a big plus for this job." A flicker of a smile softened his hardened expression.

"It helps," Lucy agreed. "First of all, thank you again for your assist on the kidnapping in Miami. Helping to find that piece of evidence was key and helped to save several people's lives, including Dan's son. I'm very grateful for that."

His smile deepened to show the contrast of white teeth against tanned olive skin. "I had to get creative to find a way back into this mansion, Luce."

"You could have called." She nodded to the BlackBerry on her desk. "The number hasn't changed in six years."

"As if you'd take my call."

In fact, she might have. "I tried to find you after the truth came out on that diamond drop, Con. You were exonerated and I wanted to tell you that I was wrong."

"You didn't try very hard, then -- because you can find anyone, anywhere, no matter how deep underground they go."

"True," she conceded. "But by then you'd already taken a new career path, and I didn't like it. I still don't."

"Neither do I," he said quietly. "That's why I'm here."

She lifted a brow. "You've grown a conscience after half a dozen years of helping yourself to corporate secrets, priceless jewels, and countless works of art?"

He bristled and she knew she'd hit his weak spot. "Let's get this straight. I didn't help myself to anything. I have never kept anything I've stolen. I have worked as a middleman between collectors with a lot of money, and the people and places who have things they want."

Lucy chuckled. "I've heard euphemisms for stealing before, but that one is in a league of its own."

"Think what you want, Lucy, but I don't want the stuff I've stolen. I've simply used the talents I was born with -- skills I unfortunately honed too well as a teenager."

"You haven't been a teenager for twenty years."

"And as you recall," he continued, his voice low and deliberate, "I found that people assumed that because I had certain abilities, I automatically used them."

Definitely his weak spot. That would make the assignment, if she chose to offer it, even more challenging. "I assumed you helped yourself to diamonds because they were missing under your watch and you made no effort to dissuade me of that belief."

For the first time, he shifted his muscular frame in the undersized chair. "You hired me, Luce. Don't you trust your own judgment? Did I have to come in here and plead my case, or is the client always right?"

"If you wanted to stay a Bullet Catcher badly enough, it would have been a smart move." Instead he'd tested her, and they'd both lost. "And, no, the client is not always right. And neither am I. I have an open mind and am a reasonable woman, Con. There was no need for you to disappear and become a professional thief. You could have been protecting those things instead of stealing them."

"I made my choice, Lucy," he said simply. "And now I am here to unmake it."

"Dan told me you're serious about becoming a Bullet Catcher and I trust his judgment," she said. "And, I admit, the idea intrigues me. But only if I understand why, so that I can believe this sudden change of heart is real."

"It's real, and it's not sudden. The impetus was the case in Miami last month, when I saw one of your men in action."

"Dan Gallagher is one of the best."

"For good reason. So, I decided if I was going to steal anything worthwhile..." Humor glinted. "It should be his job."

She almost laughed at the idea that anyone could replace the man who'd been her right hand for the last five years. The man who she was already wooing to temporarily fill her chair when her baby arrived in six months. "That would be some steal."

"Let's put it this way. I don't do things halfway. If I work for you, I'd want to be the man you call one of your best." The conviction in his voice erased any concerns that the Con Man was doing a job on her.

A few seconds crawled by, punctuated by the pendulum swing of an antique grandfather clock across the room. Finally, without taking her eyes from his, she circled the writing table, settled in her chair, and reached for the dossier she'd been reading before he arrived. She couldn't go one more day without fulfilling this client's request, and the perfect man for the job was right in front of her.

"The assignment is tough, even for a seasoned Bullet Catcher." She handed him the file. "I need a diver."

"My time as a SEAL was brief, but I'm certified to dive."

"And I need a thief."

He lifted his gaze from the paperwork. "Excuse me?"

"Or someone who would know how to spot one." When he nodded, she continued. "The Bullet Catcher client is Judd Paxton. Are you familiar with him?"

"Of course. Paxton Treasures is the most successful underwater salvage company in the world. But no one's diving in November."

"Yes, actually, someone is. Paxton is running a highly confidential dive about ten miles off the east coast of Florida that isn't an official salvage effort."

He frowned. "You mean it's not leased or claimed with the state?"

"Not yet."

"So there's no state rep on board cataloging everything they recover so Florida can suck its twenty percent of the potential bounty? That makes it a lot easier to sell anything recovered for full profit on the black market."

His knowledge of the inner workings of the salvage industry was another point in his favor, even if it was gleaned from the wrong kind of experience.

"Judd's not out to cheat the state or anyone out of money," she assured him. "He has a sponsor who wants to be the exclusive buyer for any treasure recovered on the dive, and that sponsor has insisted that the dive be kept secret, until they can confirm exactly what they've found. Evidently it will rock the salvage world, and when word gets out the area will be pounced on by poachers or, worse, pirates."

He looked intrigued. "What is it?"

"Are you familiar with the legend of the ship called El Falcone?"

"Yes," he said with a soft laugh. "I'm also familiar with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. It's folklore, Lucy."

"Well, Mr. Paxton doesn't happen to agree with you," she replied. "The folklore of an unregistered ship that carried treasures from Havana to Lisbon would become fact if he is able to prove that's what he's found."

Con sifted through a few pages in the file, obviously unconvinced. "There's no manifest on record of a ship that wasn't registered, so this is pure speculation."

"The entire business of treasure hunting is speculative, but evidently some paperwork does exist, in various bits and pieces, and some of those are in the hands of Mr. Paxton's sponsor. The dive job is so confidential, I might add, that the crew and divers don't know what wreck they're salvaging."

He flipped the page, read some names. "Then why are they out freezing their backsides off, diving in November?"

"Because Paxton's paying a fortune. So, they're abiding by a no cell phone, no Internet access rule while on board. Since several of the Paxton ships were ambushed last season by well-organized thieves, the divers have been told the secrecy is for their safety."

He nodded. "That makes sense. So what's the assignment, protection from the potential pirates?"

"Not exactly. The threat, Judd thinks, is closer. They've recovered quite a few items already, and some are missing."

"Oh." His fingers rested on the diver and crew list. "So there's a thief on board -- one of the crew or divers."

"It would appear so, but it's more complex than that," she said. "In Paxton's opinion, just as worrisome as someone helping himself to a few gold coins is a leak to the outside world when something more substantive is recovered. There are a few items in particular that are believed to have been on board El Falcone."

"What are they?"

"A pair of gold scepters topped with matching diamonds, made for the king and queen of Portugal on the occasion of their marriage in 1862. And not just any diamonds -- the Bombay Blues, two of the most valuable blue diamonds ever mined in India."

He smiled, shaking his head. "That tale's been going around the art world for years. The Bombay Blues don't exist."

"Whether or not they exist doesn't matter. Our job isn't to find them," she reminded him. "It's our job to get on the boat and identify the thief, and if there is a leak, stop it."

He acknowledged that with a tilt of his head. "Flynn Paxton is the manager of the dive," he noted. "A relative?"

"Stepson. Evidently they have a contentious relationship and Judd is trying to smooth things out by letting him manage a dive. You'll go undercover as a new diver, infiltrate the crew, stop whoever has the sticky fingers, and figure out if someone's getting word to the outside world. No one, not even Flynn, will know your real reason for being there."

"Does Flynn know about El Falcone?"

"No one does."

"So Judd doesn't even trust his own stepson. Interesting." Con shifted through the file that contained in-depth backgrounds of the six divers, conservator, and crew on board the Gold Digger, then looked up at her. "Anything else?"

"Just check in daily. If you uncover anything or anyone suspicious at all, I want to know immediately. That day, that hour. We'll strategize together how to handle it."

"No problem."

"And remember that you're not on your own." She leaned forward, pulling his a...