Whirlpool (Cutter Cay Book 6) Page 9

  “So that sorry was just paying me lip service?"

  He arched an eyebrow. “Not used to being told no?”

  She gave a mocking laugh. "Talk about the kettle calling the pot black. I bet no one has ever dared to tell you no."

  "Many people- heads of State, high-level government official's, the lot. They've all tried to tell me no over the years. Those no's made me who I am today. Never underestimate the power of no."

  “Double ass.” Still, excitement fired her blood almost as well as a good argument. She couldn’t wait to compare the two artifacts. Were they identical? Part of something larger? They appeared to weigh about the same, the sizes and shapes were similar, and both appeared to have the same markings. Would they fit together like a jigsaw puzzle? Why had they been discovered five miles apart? Debris field from Napolitano? Or had the two tablets been on different ships to protect them? She wanted to look at them side by side to compare. She had a million questions and couldn't freaking wait to get started on finding the answers.

  "Thank you for the life lesson, I'll needlepoint it onto a -whatever people needlepoint on. The power of no. I'm sure it'll come in handy."

  "Are you and Doctor Núñez lovers?" Finn asked in an annoyingly conversational tone considering he'd just reamed her out without anesthetic.

  Seriously? One of the tech's nearby taking photographs of the day’s finds, covered a gasp with a cough. No shit. Peri lowered her voice. "They can still hear us! And that's absolutely none of your business.”

  "After what we’ve shared, you bet your ass it is."

  “One weekend where we gave each other fake stories-your rule, not mine, -doesn’t entitle you to know a damn thing about me, my past, present or freaking future! I liked you." Peri pointedly used the past tense, and enjoyed the tension in his jaw at that flat out, blatant lie. "I don't think I do anymore. So, no more giving me hot looks, or playing with my hair, or staring at my mouth as though you intend kissing me senseless.

  He rubbed a broad hand over his naked chest, silver eyes narrowed as he waited for her answer. Why was he squinting? The sun was at his back. She was the one in the spotlight. A muscle jerked in his jaw. He radiated heat and a heavy dose of testosterone. "Answer the question."

  All she had to do was extend her arm and she could run her hand over all that lovely muscle on his chest. Proud of her willpower, heart hammering, she refrained. "I forgot what it was." Dear Lord, the man wreaked havoc just by looking at her.

  "Núñez. You. Lovers."

  "Would it bother you if..." One look at his thunderous expression and Peri reversed. "Doctor Núñez is my boss. He understands how impassioned I am about these wrecks, their history and what the discovery of their treasures will mean to Argentina.”

  Again, the eyebrow arch told her he was seeing through every lie she manufactured. He couldn’t, could he? Damn. Damn. Damn. “Do you often sleep with people who work with you?"

  "No."

  There was that power of no again. Annoying as shit. Your ex slept with your partner. Is that why you're so uncompromising? "No, not often? Or no, you don't sleep with your employees?" Peri asked sweetly.

  He gave a small shake of his head as though she was trying his patience. "Isn't work where most people meet their mates?" As he answered her throwaway question with a throwaway of his own, he glanced at the large black dive watch on his left wrist. To indicate his disinterest, to time her response? Or in a hurry to go? I can only hope.

  Why did even his most benign question sound loaded? "I have no idea." She bet he'd slept with every one of the attractive women on board. Staff and crew. That thought ignited her temper all over again. A ripple of unease fluttered across her skin as he focused his gaze on her, as if he had x-ray vision and could see right through to her bones.

  Other than the perpetual scruff on Finn's jaw, he looked like some manly GQ model selling sex and men's cologne as he stood there, tall and broad, drysuit around his hips. Cocky. Arrogant. His dark hair artlessly combed back off his elegant face, curled slightly at his nape.

  Phineas Gallagher looked exactly like what he was. A self-assured, beyond-billionaire used to getting his own way. Someone who didn’t take no for an answer, and didn’t take shit from anyone he considered competition for something he wanted. She didn't for a second underestimate him. He hadn't become one of the richest men in the world by being a pushover. He wore the same air of danger and menace as her brother, Ry, did for people he didn't trust. Which was pretty much everyone.

  She preferred the way his eyes softened when he'd looked at her while they were making love a hell of a lot better. Too bad this situation had them in opposite camps, him firmly with those bastard Cutters and her with Ry.

  She made the foolish mistake of looking directly into eyes the thunderous, ominous gray of storm clouds. She'd probably turn to freaking stone as he gave her a stare down hot enough to melt... "What material has the highest melting point?"

  "Tungsten has a melting point of 6192 °F," he answered readily, not in the least thrown by the non sequitur. "A material made with a combination of hafnium, nitrogen, and carbon has a melting point of more than 7460 °F. That's about two-thirds the temperature of the surface of the sun. Why, are you planning on melting something?"

  She hoped he read something diabolical into her nonchalant shrug. "Just a question."

  He just smiled.

  He might look like a sportswear model, but he had more brainpower than the average half-naked man featured in advertisements. More brainpower than anyone, if internet reports were accurate. Do not underestimate him.

  Peri tore her gaze from his and glanced over the rail to see three divers on the platform below. She gave Finn a saccharin sweet smile. "I see your divers down there waiting for you. They look impatient." Not at all, they were talking, and looked perfectly relaxed and in no hurry.

  "Where did you go to school, Ariel?"

  She suddenly hated him calling her Ariel. She wanted to taste her name on his mouth, damn it. "The Argentine Atlantis University in Buenos Aires." She really had attended a few classes there when the incessant high winds of the Patagonian summer made diving treacherous. But she bet he knew that, too. It was best to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  "What do you do for fun, when you're not pilfering artifacts?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I make spreadsheets and write reports."

  His brow rose. "For fun?"

  "You have no idea," she gave him something short of a dirty look. "Why all the questions? This isn't a date, remember. I'm here representing the interest of my government. Doing my job. If you have questions reference that."

  "Consider it a job interview."

  "I have a job, thank you." Down girl. Be Ariel Andersen. His elegant, unreadable face appeared before her like the afterimage from staring into the sun for too long.

  His probing questions were unnerving, and, despite sounding casual, put her on alert. The bright, burning intensity in his smoky eyes was in no way diluted by his casual tone.

  Game on, Finn Gallagher.

  Typically, she thrived on danger-when she chose the intensity, location, and who'd participate in said danger. "You've made your damn point loud and clear. No need to hit me over the head with a sledgehammer." She wanted to go inside and see what the techs were doing. And take another look at that slab under the pretense of cataloging the day’s finds for the ministry. But it was as though some freaky forcefield bound them together and she couldn't pull apart from him. "How long ago did you leave Ireland? If she couldn’t break away from him she might as well learn more about the notoriously reclusive multi-gazillionaire.

  "I left in my teens."

  In one of the rare moments when they hadn't been having sex, Finn had told her he'd been orphaned when he was a baby. His parents had died in a boating accident. He'd been in the foster system in Ireland for fifteen years. That would harden anyone. There was no reason for Peri to think he’d made that up, and she could certainly re
late to the feeling of isolation and loneliness he must've felt.

  There’d been no need to carry their charade to the point that they made up a fictitious past that weekend. She certainly hadn’t.

  Besides, once she’d realized who he was, she’d done her homework, too. He'd been born in Waterford, Ireland, made his fortune at seventeen by investing in the stock market, and parlayed that into the kind of wealth that could pay cash for this mega-gigayacht and anything else he so desired. Now he had his finger in hundreds of pies and had more money than God.

  Peri didn't give a damn about his wealth, his power, or his good looks. The Cutters were her focus, Finn just happened to be in the same orbit.

  It was a minor inconvenience that she was distracted by his sex appeal, annoyed by his autocratic ways, and lusting after his body all at the same time. The tightness of the neoprene wrapped around his lower body put all his assets on display and was extremely freaking distracting.

  She kept her attention on his face. But his mouth was too diverting. Switching her focus three feet to the left of his head, she said sweetly, "If you have more questions feel free to email me."

  He gave her a penetrating look that made her nervous as hell. "Will you answer?"

  She hadn't even realized that, like iron filings to a powerful magnet, she was looking at the damn man again. "It depends on the question." She wished he wore sunglasses so she couldn't see his silvery eyes. They saw too much. Her breath caught at the well of feelings she really, really didn't want to feel as she struggled with conflicting emotions. There was a panicky excitement in her stomach being so near him, that said; Touch the flame, it won't burn too badly.

  "Why are you blushing, Persephone?"

  "In case you hadn’t noticed, it's hot out here."

  "Have I embarrassed you?" He splayed his hand on the small of her back and walked her into the shade. "Are you imagining me inside you, my mouth on your pretty breasts?” The words came out low and deep, somewhere between a growl and a rumbling, seductive whisper that rubbed across her skin. His Irish accent was more pronounced when he was thinking about sex, she realized.

  Her hard nipples chafed the inside of her bra in response to his words. Just hearing them brought to mind the suck and pull of his mouth. That powerful mojo of his kept sneaking up on her. She should take note. "Of course not, you egotistical oaf. Hard for me to consider being full of you when you're already so full of yourself."

  "Ah, then it's that redhead temper of yours."

  "I don't have a temper," she said crossly.

  Finn laughed.

  Oh, God, Finn amused was almost as seductive as Finn in a dark pantry.

  "Don't--" Peri's throat ached. She didn't want this. She had an agenda, and Finn Gallagher had never been part of it. He was ruining everything.

  He stepped close enough to cup her jaw. "Don't what, Persephone?" he murmured, eyes now pewter.

  "Don't make me want you when I'm mad at you, damn it."

  Like a pirate, Finn wanted to scoop her up and carry her back to Blackstar. He suspected that would not go as well as he hoped. He'd never met a more infuriating woman, and yet everything about her drew him to her. As if they were destined to be together, which was fanciful bullshit. What it was, was painful lust. He found her amusing and entertaining. Charming. Nothing more. It was more than enough.

  "Would you kindly issue a royal decree to your staff that I have permission to go into the cleaning area and do my job documenting the other items found this morning?"

  "A word of warning, darling. I'm not someone you want to cross. I don't give second chances. Do your job. No sticky fingers."

  "Yeah, yeah. Heard it before. I'll needlepoint it on a pillow." She scowled. Even that was adorable. "You drive me to violent thoughts, Phineas Gallagher, you really do. Why don't you let that sorry stand for an hour or two, so it feels sincere?"

  "It's sincere." He smiled. "What you're sensing is suppressed sexual desire."

  She rolled her eyes. "I'm going in there." She jerked her chin toward the cleaning room. "Unless you have a valid objection?"

  "Come to dinner on board Blackstar tonight."

  Turning her head, she made a rude noise of dismissal. "I've heard that one before. No thanks."

  "I want you to meet the Cutters. I think you'll enjoy them. They're a colorful bunch."

  God, her face was so expressive. A profusion of thoughts flittered across her features like the shadows of passing butterflies. She wasn't warring with him, she was warring with herself. Why and what was the field of battle? Work ethics? Something else?

  "Okay."

  That was easier than he expected. "Fifth deck. Seven." He'd told the others seven-thirty.

  "Will you want to check my pockets before I eat?" she asked, sarcasm dripping off every word.

  "After," he teased. "A full body search. Just in case you decide to pilfer the silverware."

  Finn enjoyed the sway of her enticing arse and long legs as she marched through the double doors.

  Dressed with studied casualness in wide-legged white linen pants, a matching, low-cut white linen tank top cinched with a thin black belt, and strappy sandals, Peri strolled through the solarium and out the French doors onto the fifth deck at precisely seven that night.

  She'd spent the rest of the afternoon with the tech team, although Mike and the gold tablet were nowhere to be seen. At six o’clock she'd made her way to the cabin she'd been given onboard, Blackstar, a luxurious suite on the third deck. She wasn’t surprised to see that her suitcase, the one she’d thrown into her motorboat before she left home earlier, had been unpacked and her clothes now hung in the closet in the bedroom.

  She anticipated this first meeting with the Cutters with a roiling mixture of stomach-tightening dread and excitement. She'd waited so long for this to happen, that it was hard to believe the time was finally here. She'd rehearsed a dozen scenarios until she was sure she'd know what to say and do in any situation. She was ready.

  The cool air felt good on her bare skin, and the expansive view from so high up on Finn's ship was nothing short of spectacular. The ocean spread out around them, for miles. But all Peri saw was Finn, his back to the rail, waiting for her. Behind him, dark purple clouds drifted across a rose-colored sky.

  In her peripheral vision, she took in the swimming pool and hot tub, both of which mirrored the colors of the flamboyant dome overhead.

  Even though it hadn't come loose, Peri pushed a hairpin more firmly into her casually messy updo. Her just-got-out-of-bed look had taken forever to get just right. She'd spent more than an hour doing her face, her nails were fire engine red, and she wore her highest heels. She was ready for battle.

  Hesitating in the wide doorway, she casually glanced around. No one other than Finn and herself. The area looked suspiciously like a romantic setting with stringed lights and flickering candles in hurricane lamps in the center of the long table.

  "Where's everybody?" she demanded suspiciously as he skirted the pool to come to her side. He looked handsome, urbane and altogether delicious in dark pants, and a slate gray, collared shirt. "If you lured me up here to have sex you've got another thing coming." The tinge of cranky in her voice was fake. Her temper usually flared hot but was short lived. And God help her, the idea of sex right now was tempting. But she wasn't ready to let him off the hook just yet. Because that will keep him safely at arm’s length while I deal with the Cutters. She refused to admit, even to herself, that the powerful attraction she and Finn shared was almost too intense, even for a daredevil like herself.

  She'd had sex on the brain pretty much since their weekend in Buenos Aires, almost two weeks ago. Revitalized by sex in the pantry three days ago. Hell, just looking at him turned her on. Her pheromones were hot for his pheromones all the freaking time. But he was her sexual kryptonite. And she couldn't- shouldn't get distracted by him. This promised to be the most important event in her life, and lusting for Finn might very well derail her from her long-ter
m purpose.

  Finn had the gall to laugh. As he got closer, the stringed lights surrounding the deck caused little stars to bounce off his shiny clean hair. The dark strands had a slight wave to them, and it made him look softer, more approachable as a stray breeze played with the strands. Do not be deceived by his hair, she cautioned herself. There's nothing soft about him.

  Tonight she couldn't afford to be distracted by Finn's sex appeal. Tonight was all about the Cutters.

  Brushing a loose skein of hair from her cheek, he traced his thumb along her jaw. No fair. A tremor went from point of contact to her toes. "You have a very suspicious mind, darling. Hold that thought. While sex with you right now has enormous appeal, it's not on the menu. At least not for another couple of hours. I told everyone seven-thirty because I wanted you to see something first."

  When he held out an elegant hand, her nipples beaded, her body reacting as if he were stroking her skin. "Come look."

  The man was painfully magnetic. Peri put her hand in his, then remembered her caution to herself too late as his fingers curled around hers. Damn it. Holding his hand felt. . . Perfect.

  That "darling" stopped her heartbeat for a couple of seconds, it hiccupped in her chest before resuming a normal, if slightly elevated, beat. "What is it you want to show me?"

  He led her to a side table where a large flat gold object stood propped on a table easel. Her eyes shot to him, and her fingers tightened around his as her gaze fixed on the artifact. "Oh!?"

  "Had Mike put a rush on processing. Spectacular, isn't it?"

  Understatement. That's why Mike and the tablet had been missing all afternoon.

  Hidden beneath the sediment and dirt acquired over five hundred years, lay the gleaming sheen of gold. The lights reflected off the uneven surface, highlighting the almost straight horizontal lines, with a narrow border on two sides.

  Mouth dry, she stared at the artifact, transfixed. "It's stunning." She wanted to call Ry, ask if his team had cleaned their tablet yet.