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coming down from the wheelhouse, a huge black man in baggy, knee-length shorts and a blue flowered shirt that flapped open in the wind. He had a chest the size of a wine cask and arms that would rival Mike Tyson’s. Hurrying toward them along the deck, he held a cell phone out in front of him.
    “It’s for you, boss.”
    Reese took the phone and pressed it against his ear. He flicked a look toward Hope, then turned and walked a couple of feet away. He was angry and getting madder by the minute, speaking louder and louder till she could hear his every word.
    “Are you insane? We let her write a bunch of articles about this operation and we’re gonna have every amateur treasure hunter within two thousand miles breathing down our necks. This isn’t the States, Talbot, it’s a private island. The only laws here are the ones they make up, and Emperor Eddie won’t be able to provide much protection—legal or otherwise—if we start to have trespassing problems.”
    Talbot said something lengthy on the other end of the line.
    “This is crazy,” Reese said. Then, “Fine—have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Reese ended the call and took a deep breath. He handed the phone back to the big black man. “Thanks, King.”
    “No problem, boss.”
    Reese turned to face her, a scowl on his handsome face. “I guess you’re staying, since Talbot holds the purse strings.” He gave her a perusal that went from her breasts to her toes and sent her hackles up another notch. “But then you probably knew that already.”
    Hope clamped down on a nasty retort, and the captain stepped into the breach.
    “Why don’t I take the lady down to her cabin?” he suggested, trying to prevent what was fast becoming a mutual dislike.
    Reese gave Hope a cold, hard smile. “I’ll take care of it. I want to make sure our guest gets properly settled in.”
    “I’m afraid there’s one more thing,” Hope said.
    “Yeah, what’s that?”
    “There’s a photographer coming. I thought he might be here already. His name is Tommy Tyler.”
    “Christ.” Reese raked a hand through his dark brown hair. It was neatly trimmed but long enough to reveal a faint curl at the ends. “Is that it? You don’t have maybe a movie crew lined up or something?”
    One of her eyebrows arched. “Well, now that you mention it, there might be—” She broke off at the horrified look on his face, satisfied she had given as good as she got. “There’s only Tommy and me.”
    Ignoring his obvious relief, Hope reached for her carry-on. Surprisingly, Reese had already picked it up. At least he knew how to behave like a gentleman, though she figured he mostly chose not to.
    “This way.” Turning, he gave her his back, which was wide, tanned, and muscled and looked just as good as his front. Hope fell into step behind him, having to hurry to keep up with his long-legged strides.
    “Where you from?” he asked, stopping as they reached the ladder leading down to the cabins.
    “I live in New York.”
    “Yeah? I thought I heard a trace of Boston.”
    “I was born there. My family still lives there.”
    “New York and Boston. Figures.”
    Her teeth clenched together. She took a calming breath. “So what about you?”
    “Florida, mostly.”
    “Mostly?”
    He shrugged those wide shoulders. “I get around some. Officially, I live in Key West at the moment.”
    A beach bum. She should have guessed. He certainly looked like one. Then again, there was a hardness in his features, a toughness that made her think that wasn’t completely true.
    “From what I’ve seen, it looks like your ship’s very well equipped. Any chance you’ve got a computer on board with a satellite link? I’d like to do a little preliminary research before I start.”
    And she had a friend back at Midday News who was a major computer whiz. She’d know everything there was to know about Conner Reese and the other members of Treasure Limited by tomorrow