pregnant with his child.
She shook her head, refusing to let her mind drift too far in that direction. She had lost the child she carried, mourned for months, and hadn’t dated since. The guys at the office said she was a real man-hater, and maybe she was.
Conner Reese looked nothing at all like Richard, one of the partners of Wynn, Myers, and Daley, a prestigious Manhattan law firm.
But remembering the smug look on Reese’s face, the certainty in his voice that she had slept her way into getting this assignment, it seemed more than clear they were very much alike.
Conn climbed the ladder back up to the deck and saw Joe Ramirez walking toward him, using a towel to dry the beads of water glinting on his face and chest.
“Who’s the babe?” Joe asked. He was the head diver on the crew, the dive team coordinator, though Conn would be diving, too. As a SEAL, Joe had been one of the best, and he still was.
“She’s one of Brad Talbot’s women. This one happens to be a writer for Adventure magazine. Brad probably promised her the story to get in her pants. Must have worked, since she’s here.”
Joe grinned, gouging two deep grooves in his cheeks. “She can bunk in my cabin. I wouldn’t mind a bit.”
“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t. But I don’t think Talbot would appreciate the competition.”
“Probably not.” He flashed another grin. “Then again, who says Talbot has to know?”
Conn didn’t answer. Joe had a way with women. If he put his mind to it, he could probably have Hope Sinclair in his bed by the end of the week. She couldn’t be much of a challenge—not if Talbot had screwed her.
Conn told himself he didn’t care what Joe did. But he found himself checking his watch to see when Hope would reappear.
“How did it go?”
Recognizing the perfectly modulated voice on the end of the line, Brad Talbot gave in to a satisfied smile. “Reese knows where his bread is buttered. He gave me some crap about the article jeopardizing the search, but he’ll get over it. The girl is out of your hair. She’s off the story and too far away to give you any more trouble.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m telling you, she’s miles from nowhere. She’ll be busy for weeks. You don’t need to give her another thought.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
“Hey, no problem.” But as he hung up the phone, Brad was thinking how he might collect the favor. He might not be the kind of savvy businessman his father and grandfather were, but he was no fool. He knew who his friends were.
And he knew how to use them.
Chapter 3
Hope finished unpacking. Eddie Markham had generously allowed her to leave some of her clothes in one of the villas. Apparently the place was unoccupied and for sale for a very hefty price tag. She had left her sundresses and sandals and miscellaneous items she didn’t think she would have use for on the boat, taking only shorts, shirts, and tee shirts, a swimsuit, sandals, and her deck shoes.
This was a work boat, after all. She didn’t think she would need anything fancy.
On the other hand, she liked to be prepared.
Which was why she could kick herself for not taking some of the money her grandfather had left her and her two sisters and bought the fancy electronics that a lot of her contemporaries used. Okay, so maybe she was a little archaic, a little resistant to all the new gadgets. She liked taking notes, liked the personal interaction, though she also used a portable tape recorder and she had brought that along.
She did have a Palm Pilot, so she wasn’t completely out of touch. Since she’d started working at the paper, she had been looking at a Blackberry, a wireless, hand-held device for sending and receiving wireless e-mail, surfing the Web, and keeping track of contacts. But the darn things were expensive, and out here she’d need to have a satellite phone in order to use it, and that was something she wouldn’t have much use for back home.
She had left
She shook her head, refusing to let her mind drift too far in that direction. She had lost the child she carried, mourned for months, and hadn’t dated since. The guys at the office said she was a real man-hater, and maybe she was.
Conner Reese looked nothing at all like Richard, one of the partners of Wynn, Myers, and Daley, a prestigious Manhattan law firm.
But remembering the smug look on Reese’s face, the certainty in his voice that she had slept her way into getting this assignment, it seemed more than clear they were very much alike.
Conn climbed the ladder back up to the deck and saw Joe Ramirez walking toward him, using a towel to dry the beads of water glinting on his face and chest.
“Who’s the babe?” Joe asked. He was the head diver on the crew, the dive team coordinator, though Conn would be diving, too. As a SEAL, Joe had been one of the best, and he still was.
“She’s one of Brad Talbot’s women. This one happens to be a writer for Adventure magazine. Brad probably promised her the story to get in her pants. Must have worked, since she’s here.”
Joe grinned, gouging two deep grooves in his cheeks. “She can bunk in my cabin. I wouldn’t mind a bit.”
“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t. But I don’t think Talbot would appreciate the competition.”
“Probably not.” He flashed another grin. “Then again, who says Talbot has to know?”
Conn didn’t answer. Joe had a way with women. If he put his mind to it, he could probably have Hope Sinclair in his bed by the end of the week. She couldn’t be much of a challenge—not if Talbot had screwed her.
Conn told himself he didn’t care what Joe did. But he found himself checking his watch to see when Hope would reappear.
“How did it go?”
Recognizing the perfectly modulated voice on the end of the line, Brad Talbot gave in to a satisfied smile. “Reese knows where his bread is buttered. He gave me some crap about the article jeopardizing the search, but he’ll get over it. The girl is out of your hair. She’s off the story and too far away to give you any more trouble.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m telling you, she’s miles from nowhere. She’ll be busy for weeks. You don’t need to give her another thought.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
“Hey, no problem.” But as he hung up the phone, Brad was thinking how he might collect the favor. He might not be the kind of savvy businessman his father and grandfather were, but he was no fool. He knew who his friends were.
And he knew how to use them.
Chapter 3
Hope finished unpacking. Eddie Markham had generously allowed her to leave some of her clothes in one of the villas. Apparently the place was unoccupied and for sale for a very hefty price tag. She had left her sundresses and sandals and miscellaneous items she didn’t think she would have use for on the boat, taking only shorts, shirts, and tee shirts, a swimsuit, sandals, and her deck shoes.
This was a work boat, after all. She didn’t think she would need anything fancy.
On the other hand, she liked to be prepared.
Which was why she could kick herself for not taking some of the money her grandfather had left her and her two sisters and bought the fancy electronics that a lot of her contemporaries used. Okay, so maybe she was a little archaic, a little resistant to all the new gadgets. She liked taking notes, liked the personal interaction, though she also used a portable tape recorder and she had brought that along.
She did have a Palm Pilot, so she wasn’t completely out of touch. Since she’d started working at the paper, she had been looking at a Blackberry, a wireless, hand-held device for sending and receiving wireless e-mail, surfing the Web, and keeping track of contacts. But the darn things were expensive, and out here she’d need to have a satellite phone in order to use it, and that was something she wouldn’t have much use for back home.
She had left
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