by J.S. Marlo
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Star Fisher refuses to let the scar marring her face dictate her choices or the dreams haunting her nights affect her life. A skilled underwater investigator, she is hired as a scuba diver in an underwater salvage operation.

Captivated by the feisty young woman who shares little resemblance with his glamorous conquests, captain Hauk Ludvikson struggles against his attraction as they explore a century-old relic linked to the unsolved disappearance of a rich heiress.

With danger lurking under and above the water line, Star fights for her future—a future she may not salvage twice.


“Star Fisher?”

“And you are?”

He leaned one shoulder against the wall and scrutinized the feisty blond diver. “Hauk Ludvikson. I talked to Dylan and he told me you investigate wrecks for a living.”

“I mostly investigate vehicles that are dumped in lakes and rivers for insurance scams.”

His right hand swept through thin air in front of him, urging her to elaborate.

“That’s it, Ludvikson.” Turning away from him, she resumed her packing in silence.

Low-cut jeans tightly hugged her hips and a black midriff shirt exposed her slender waist. For a moment, his imagination ran away from him, and he pictured a pirate flag with a skull and crossbones tattooed on her lower back.

He approached and gripped the open locker door. “Not fond of details, are you?”

Her muscular shoulders rose and fell in a shrug of indifference.

“Do you extract the vehicle or do you inspect it under water?” he insisted.

She shook her head and blond waves danced around her neck. “Why the interest?” From the top shelf, Fisher pulled out a plush, purple shark that she shoved in the side pocket of her bag.

“I run a salvage operation, and I’m looking to hire a new diver.”

She zipped the pocket before she turned to meet his gaze. Her nose twitched as she seemed to ponder her answer—unless she doubted his intentions. “In most cases, the water is too deep or the vehicle is too far from the shore to justify the cost of retrieval, so I inspect it under water.” A lock of hair dangled in front of her eyes, and she tucked it behind her ear. “Once in a blue moon, the damages match the story given by the owner, but usually the accident is staged.”

Faced with an empty locker, he let go of the door. “Doesn’t the owner dispute your findings?”

A smile curved her lips. “They can argue or bribe as much as they want, Ludvikson, it won’t change the facts.”

Spirited and confident, qualities he sought in a diver. “I have a job for you.”

“Thank you, but I already have a job.”

She dismissed him just as quickly as he’d earlier dismissed the idea of employing a woman. The poetic justice left a sour taste in his mouth. “Think about it. I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot.”