"Ghost ships?" She stared at him incredulously. "You've got to be kidding. It's just an old sub."

"But maybe it's sending out vibes." He lowered his voice melodramatically. "Concentrate. Do you feel them, Hannah?"

A sudden chill went through her. What the hell? It had to be suggestion, and she'd be damned if she'd let Conner know he'd gotten to her. "I'm too busy concentrating on keeping myself from calling out the booby hatch brigade for you."

He threw back his head and laughed. "I almost had you. I could see it."

"You did not. I'm not that gullible."

"But you seem to be in an uncommonly sensitive mood. It doesn't happen that often, and I thought I'd get you while the getting was good."

"Uncommonly sensitive? I am sensitive, you bastard."

"And so delicate in expressing it. Forgive me for doubting you, but you-Ouch."

"Dammit, I'll show you delicate." She punched him again in the arm. "First, you make me feel guilty, and then you tell me I'm a callous bitch."

"I didn't actually say it." He laughed as he backed away from her. "And you shouldn't object if I did. You have to admit that it's not your gentler side that fills you with pride. You're definitely a nononsense woman, Hannah. I'm surprised you took offense."

She was a little surprised too. From the time she was ten years old she had known what she wanted of her life. Machines had always fascinated her, and the sea had called her with a power that couldn't be denied. Every college break she had spent on a ship, working and perfecting her knowledge and skills. Even after she had graduated with honors, it still hadn't been an easy road. She had fought her way up the ladder in a man's world by her independence and tough-mindedness. It was odd that little remark by Conner had triggered a sudden rush of guilt. Or maybe not so odd. It could be that she had been worrying about Conner on a subconscious level for a long time.