Whirlpool (Cutter Cay Book 6) Page 8

  A white tank top was tucked into bright yellow shorts which showcased long, shapely, freckled legs. Her glorious hair was pulled away from her face into in a long, fiery braid halfway down her back. He stopped, one hand on the rail to drink her in. Desire instantly overshadowed annoyance.

  He strode across the aft deck, passed large seawater-filled tubs holding artifacts ready to be cleaned and entered into the database. On the foredeck, similar tubs held fresh seawater, and the objects already cleaned and processed.

  Other than wavelets slapping at the hull, and the creak of wood, the sheltered second deck, usually a hive of activity and a blast of rock music, was suddenly unnaturally quiet. Music off, everyone had gone silent the moment Finn walked on deck.

  Ariel turned her head at the sound of his approaching footsteps. Her expressive eyes lit up upon seeing him, and her slight smile did crazy things to Finn's heartbeat. She didn't look like a thief. But then thieves rarely did.

  Hell. She hadn't lost a scintilla of her allure since last he'd seen her. In fact, Finn felt the draw more powerfully now, and he wasn't even in touching distance.

  Aside from his acute physical attraction to her, he was shocked at the well of pleasure he experienced just seeing her. Christ. Not just sexual attraction, but genuinely happy to merely be in her orbit.

  The two men parted to allow him into the tight grouping. He arched an inquiring brow as he held her gaze, but spoke to his head of security. "Summarize, would you, Seth?"

  "Mike caught Miss Andersen here trying to remove the artifact from processing." He was careful with his wording. Smart move considering no one could miss the crackle of electricity between them unless they were completely oblivious. Which his head of security was not.

  Finn ignored her soft murmur of disbelief, and the spark of flame lighting the cool depths of her eyes. "And take it where?"

  "Off Two would be our guess."

  "Indeed." The familiar, deep throbbing in his dick made him clench his teeth. "I'll take that," Finn addressed her, voice rough with lust.

  The glow in Ariel's eyes dissipated and her brow wrinkled. She shot him a startled look when he plucked the artifact from her hands. It was roughly the size of a folded piece of foolscap paper, the gold glossy as if just freshly minted, its weight close to twenty pounds.

  "Mike?" Finn handed the heavy item back to the nervously hovering cleaning tech who'd called security in a panic five minutes earlier. "Thanks, guys. I'll take it from here." With a curt nod, McCoy gave Ariel a hard parting look, then followed Mike across the deck and back inside the processing room.

  The salty air held a tang of muriatic acid, yet he could also smell a faint trace of Casablanca lily.

  She turned back from watching the two men. This time when she looked at him, the pleasure had been stripped from her gaze. "You believe them?" she said, incredulously. Clearly misinterpreting his taut expression, her spine straightened. "I see. Well, no matter what they implied, I wasn't stealing it." That high flush on her cheeks wasn't embarrassment. The small tremor in her voice and the oh-so-familiar flash of fire in her eyes indicated she was annoyed. "Which," she took a step forward and enunciated very carefully, "if any of you had bothered to ask, I would've told you."

  The light breeze pressed the thin cotton of her top to cup her breasts. Finn wanted his hands there. Wanted to skim his hands up the long, lean swimmer's muscles in her shapely legs. Wanted to skim his fingers under the hem of her shorts to the juncture of her thighs to see if she was damp there. "They're aware of my zero tolerance for theft. They were merely doing their jobs."

  Loose strands of fiery hair danced against her throat, and impatiently she shoved it away. Her skin was sensitive there, just under her ear. She'd shivered when he trailed his tongue down the sensitive cords, tilting her head to allow him easy access.

  "Oh, for--I was holding it." Something moved behind her eyes. Disappointment? Guilt? Hurt? Taking a deep breath, she rubbed the tip of her nose, then shoved her fingertips into the back pockets of her shorts as she gave him a furious look.

  She was pissed. Or guilty. Because she'd been caught? All he wanted right now was a dimly lit cabin and a horizontal surface. She had new freckles across her nose and on her upper arms. Stardust. He wanted to taste them. Now.

  "That artifact might well be an epic find of significant historical value. It bore closer scrutiny." Her unusually colored eyes looked as if layers of transparent glass, blues and greens, were being pierced by the sun.

  Finn shifted to ease the tightness of the drysuit across his dick, as he allowed his amusement to filter into his voice. "Your X-ray vision allowed you to deduce its value?" When she remained silent- discounting her murderous gaze, he said, "At around twelve hundred per ounce, American, even if it's gold coated- at guestimate about fifty grand. A hell of a lot more if it's made up entirely of gold."

  "I'm not going to waste my breath talking to you if you're going to be a hardass. It's the largest piece retrieved so far," her words were clipped. "The appearance of even bumps indicates it might have some sort of writing under the gold covering. I was just-"

  He didn't care what she was just about to do. All he could think about was that she was willing to fuck him one minute and steal from him the next. "You don't have jurisdiction to remove any artifacts from the salvage." Lust made his voice harsher than he intended.

  Tilting her head, a tendril of red hair fell over her shoulder. "Jump to conclusions much?" Folding her arms beneath her breasts in a defensive stance, she jutted out her chin. "Holding and studying, don't equate to stealing or 'removal', Finn. Do you want me to take a damned polygraph test?"

  Seth and Mike had done what he demanded of all his employees. Nip theft in the bud. But she was disarmingly indignant about the accusation. "Of course, not." He had a thought. "What were you looking for in the packing crates at the Bernardino Rivadavia Natural Sciences Museum in Buenos Aires?" If she'd planned to steal any of the artifacts, she hadn't done so, he knew first hand.

  Her narrowed eyes glittered at the nonsequitur. "Are you implying that I was stealing then, too? You stripped me naked and kept me that way the entire freaking weekend. Where do you think I was hiding an artifact, you bastard? You knew every millimeter of my body intimately."

  God. Yes, he sure as hell did. The tech and cleaning crew we're watching, so he couldn't do what he wanted to do right now which was intimately reacquaint himself with every millimeter of her body. "It's a simple question."

  "It's a loaded damned question. And I resent like hell that you didn't ask, you accused. Just as I was doing at the museum, I was looking. " She glared at him, a frown notched between her brows, her color high. "My only damned sin was trying to ascertain what today’s new artifact was. I was too impatient to wait for it to be properly tested. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before. Obviously, I wouldn't have removed it from your ship."

  He fought the curl of desire low in his belly. He wanted to shake her, because her actions had warranted inquiry. Her anger was over the top under the circumstances. Yet, he wanted to whisk her off this deck, find an empty cabin, and be done with the argument.

  The violence of his desire for this woman, from the moment they'd met, was alien to him. A freshening breeze kicked up the water, making it sparkle like navy-blue sequins for as far as the eye could see. The wind plastered her skimpy tank top to her torso, showing the outline of a lace bra, and the soft plump of her breasts. Finn's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his lust spiked, fogging his mind. Letting her off the hook might be the worst judgment call he'd made in years.

  The errant coppery strand blew free again to unfurl, as if alive. dancing around her shoulders as if ignited by her temper. Her hair, as it always did, taunted Finn to touch, to linger on the glossy length. Tucking strands of silky hair behind her ear, he used the opportunity to brush his fingertips across her warm cheek.

  He wanted to be done with this.

  "I'm sorry for not giving you the benefi
t of the doubt." Finn didn't recall apologizing to anyone, about anyfuckingthing. Ever. She fried his brain cells. "I'll have a word with security and set them straight."

  Closing her eyes briefly, she said, still annoyed, "Your life would be so much less stressful if you didn't jump to freaking conclusions."

  SIX

  I accept your apology," Peri told him crossly, distracted by his appeal. If she were a cat, her fur would be standing on end. "Especially since I suspect you don't hand them out very often."

  He was wasting his time interrogating her. She wasn't going to break. And- color her shocked- she'd thought he wouldn't either until he'd murmured his apology.

  She breathed him in. The scent of sea and citrus, probably some hideously expensive cologne from Paris, made her stomach quiver. Damn it, she was righteous in her anger and enjoying her mad. She wanted to hang on to it a little longer. It wasn't good for him to think an 'I'm sorry' was going to placate her that easily.

  The more he maligned her character, the guiltier she felt, and the guiltier she looked, the madder she got.

  Having Finn accuse her of the one thing she was already angsting about, made Peri's throat ache. She’d had no intention of stealing his damned artifact, but she couldn't say she wasn't a thief. She'd been excited because the heavy slab was exactly like the one she'd found that morning diving Napolitano. She'd just wanted to take a few pictures away from the watchful eyes of his people. That wasn't a damned crime.

  He towered over her. Brow furrowed, silvery eyes glinting. She relaxed her tense shoulders. Nice try. I have a brother who's got that attitude down pat. I teethed on intimidating and surly. Unfortunately, it was exactly because of his coiled and dangerous attitude that she glared right back. She lived for danger, and holy shit, he was danger swathed in menace, wrapped in threat, double dipped in sex appeal. Six-foot-four inches of tawny skin and well-honed muscle. Finn Gallagher was a magnificent specimen of alpha manhood.

  Peri knew every inch of that impressive hard body. As pissed off at him as she was, her girl parts were annoyingly ready to party and not in the least bit interested in the danger signals her intellect was reading loud and clear.

  His drying hair, bitter-chocolate dark, fell in soft waves against his strong, tanned neck. Cupping her cheek, he stroked his thumb across her bottom lip. Eyes like molten steel, he said thickly, "We good now?"

  Was he serious? Since his drysuit couldn't hide a damn thing, yes, he was serious. Peri took a step back. His hand dropped to his side. "Absolutely. Let me just switch off feeling like crap after three men accused me of being a felon. Give me a minute. . ."

  He reached for her again. "Let me make it up to you."

  She should not feel this much freaking attraction for a steamroller. Strongly resisting the temptation to fall into his arms, insist he carry her to his lair and have his wicked way with her, she stopped him with a narrow-eyed look. Putting the flat of her hand against his chest, she held him at bay. Oh, God. His chest. Hard slabs of toned muscle, and the steady beat of his heart, made her fingers curl and her own heart rate skyrocket. Damn it.

  He was wickedly sexy, and even now, when he was throwing out accusations, the sizzle zinged between them. The most dangerous thing about Finn Gallagher was that no matter what, he made her want him.

  If she wasn't careful, that want would become a need, just like air.

  And then he'd walk away. Which was why she always ended affairs first. Not that there'd been many, but six months seemed to be her limit. She suspected it wouldn't last a tenth of that with Finn. Only because she found herself already mourning the loss of their relationship, and they didn't really have one.

  Damn damn damn. Peri glanced up as a gull swooped overhead to land on the rail of the deck above them to give herself a moment to compose herself. The gull gave a plaintive cry that sounded like a kitten in distress. She returned her attention to Finn. “Stop manhandling me. You’re not a lion peeing on his mate to mark his territory."

  It was annoying as hell when he laughed. “I promise, I won’t pee on you.”

  Snatching her hand off his chest she narrowed her eyes at him. "You'd better not think this is funny, Phineas Gallagher. You can't accuse me of stealing and lying one minute and flirt with me the next," she said in a furious whisper.

  "You liked being manhandled just fine the other day." His eyes glinted with amusement.

  Irritation spiked. She needed no reminding. "I liked you three days ago." His touch burned her skin like a spark of electricity. It didn’t help that Peri wanted to lick him, all over. Right there. Outside. In public. Then she wanted to crawl all over his naked body and screw his brains out. "Before I realized your default-mode is caveman." Her words didn’t come out quite as emphatically as she would've liked.

  "Know what I think?"

  Her temper cooled, leaving behind simmering irritation. Not at Finn. At herself, damn it. For believing for even a nanosecond that he wouldn't think the worst of her with no damn proof. She'd been ready to tell him who she really was, and then she'd seen the tablet, and all her good intentions evaporated. So what if she'd held it a few minutes too damn long and made the twitchy tech guy feel uncomfortable?

  "I have no idea, but I'm sure you're about to tell me. And for God's sake, lower your voice, everyone's watching us and avidly listening to our every freaking word."

  Finn placed his hand on the small of her back and edged toward the rail. "Better?"

  Why didn't the damn man put on a shirt? He was practically naked in the second skin of his drysuit, which hid very little. He was a big man. All over. His bare chest was tanned, and muscular, and an arrow of dark hair disappeared beneath the black neoprene. She knew precisely where it went. Prickly heat flushed her skin. Her body reflexively tightened, waiting for his touch.

  She shivered in reaction when he placed a finger under her chin, tipping up her face so she was practically blinded by the sun. Of course, his face was shadowed. "I'm going to discover all your secrets, Ariel Andersen."

  Ariel Andersen didn't have many. It was Persephone Case who had cause to be guarded. Her heart skipped several beats as she stepped out of his hold and used his shadow to block the spotlight of the sun. Folding her arms, she mimicked his eyebrow raise. Her brother had taught her how to do it to good effect. "It was your rule that we give each other false names and pretend lives, not mine," she reminded him, purposely misinterpreting his comment.

  His eyes narrowed. He didn't like being reminded that he'd made the damned rules. “Rules change," he spoke through clenched teeth. "Like it or not, we're in the real world now. Stop hiding things."

  "Hiding things? Me? How mysterious. What would I be hiding, I wonder? I believe you’ve seen me laid bare." Probably not something to remind him of when they were both pissed off.

  "If I asked outright, I'm sure you wouldn't tell me."

  "Give me a minute, I'm sure I can come up with something salacious and daringly spy-like."

  "That's an interesting leap. Who are you spying for, Ariel?"

  Shit. "Mr. Blofeld?"

  His lips twitched. He got the James Bond supervillain reference. "You're quick, I'll give you that. How long have you worked for the Ministry?"

  "Almost five years." She bet he'd checked. True. But her own salvage was the only thing she'd been supervising until the Bastard Cutters had shown up.

  She didn't like Finn's cool smile, his questions, or the feeling that she was walking into a trap. A trap of her own making, but a trap nonetheless. She liked him more as a lover than an adversary. At least there the playing field was sorta, kinda even.

  Most of her first-hand knowledge came from their pillow talk when they'd been too exhausted to move. The rest she'd discovered on the internet. Entrepreneur. Philanthropist. Inventor. Private. Brilliant. Reclusive. Sixth richest man in the world. All of which was a little terrifying if she really thought about it.

  His bio confirmed that he had once been married. Peri had seen a picture of the
exquisitely beautiful ex-wife, model, Erica Larson. Another Zagg search mentioned, briefly, that his ex-business partner, Derry Byrne, was in prison for embezzlement, and that Finn had testified against him in court, nailing his conviction. The business partner having an affair with Finn's wife had been tabloid fodder for months. And explained why he was so paranoid about people stealing from him.

  She and Finn had been together for about thirty-something hours, and the only personal details she knew about him was where he liked to be touched. She knew where and how hard to caress him to make him shudder, knew exactly how he liked to be kissed. She knew his sexual expertise, and that he had incredible stamina and a large appetite for sex. And he'd told her she drove him bat-shit crazy with lust.

  Everything else he'd told her could've been fabricated for that weekend persona. Truth couched as lies, lies couched as truth.

  Peri's throat tightened. She'd allowed herself to fall a little in love that weekend because it hadn't come with any risk. She'd known she'd never see him again. But even with the confidences they'd shared, he still amounted to being a stranger. A stranger who had the authority to boss her around, tell her what to do, and how damn high to jump.

  His ship. His rules. Her fingers itched to snatch back the tablet, now out of her sight, damn it. Hit him over the head with it, then make a run for it. How dare he treat her like a criminal. Serve him right if she really stole the damn thing.

  That kind of impulsive behavior was her real-life modus operandi, but not in keeping with something Ariel Andersen would do. She wasn't ready to give up Ariel. Not just yet. Still, her heart raced, and her palms were sweaty with excitement. All she needed was a little time alone with the artifact to prove what she already suspected.

  She pointed in the general direction of the cleaning room "Do you think I could just take a-"

  "No."

  "You don't even know what I was going to ask!"

  "Take a closer look under the microscope at that artifact. The answer is still no. Once it's processed, you may get another look. Supervised. Until then, keep your hands to yourself."