potentially never getting to see the treasures aboard the Rapid , or getting to do this here and now before Ruesard kicked them out of their home and took Aunt Min’s business? Yes. She could do that.
“What if we were to share the credit? Would that suffice?”
He raised an imperious dark brow. “Fine. If we share the credit for the find, then I want twenty-five percent.”
Despite her best intentions, she frowned. “I thought you weren’t in it for the money.”
“I’m not, but neither am I naive. If I’m not going to get the benefit of full credit for the find, I might as well make up for it in another way. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“I think that’s more than fair,” Harry interjected. Bella forced herself to shove the simmering, angry heat in her belly down low. Think of the Rapid. Think of the treasure. Do what you have to do to make this happen, girl.
She inhaled deeply and held her breath for a moment. “Obviously in this circumstance, it doesn’t matter what I think or don’t think. We need to rely on the facts.”
“And those are?”
“I know where the ship is and what we need to do to preserve, authenticate, catalog, and market anything we find properly, but I can’t bring it to the surface without you and your crew.”
McCormack gave one curt nod of acknowledgement.
“And you won’t do it without sharing the credit for the find and a percentage.”
He nodded again.
“Twenty percent,” she said, crossing her arms.
“I believe I said twenty-five.”
“You did. And you also want me to share credit for the find, which makes it twenty percent.”
McCormack glanced at Harold. “You said she was smart. You didn’t tell me she was a barracuda in negotiations.”
Harold gave a satisfied grin. “You won’t find better, I guarantee it.”
T he way Harold said it with his deep southern drawl, guarantee sounded more like gay-ron-tee, but Tuck didn’t care. Five percent? He wasn’t about to lose out on this opportunity over five percent. Let her think she won. He was here on a mission of his own that had nothing to do with her. From his family and rocky life, he’d learned that people who were given things didn’t appreciate them nearly as much as those who had to work for those same things. So he’d take his twenty percent and make her believe she’d worked for the concession.
“Fine, twenty percent and joint credit on the find.” He held out his hand.
Her hand slowly rose to meet his. Like at Inkspell, just the slide of her bare skin against his, even in something so basic as a handshake, gave him an instant rush that both surprised and unsettled him. He’d been attracted to a lot of women before, but this was different, as if sparks pulsed through her in a current of energy and he plugged into it just by touching her.
“Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. McCormack.”
“Please, call me Tuck. My father was Mr. McCormack.”
“And your older brother?”
“Dickhead, but he doesn’t prefer it.”
Her eyes sparkled. There was more to Belladonna Dupré than met the eye, although what met the eye was damn tempting to start with. Her movements were graceful and flowing, like a mermaid in the water, which only accentuated the flair of her hips and her inviting curves. Her pale green eyes reminded him of sea glass. His gaze dropped to the very full lips he bet were softer than the satin smooth skin on her hand. And she smelled so good he wanted to see if her skin really did taste like sugar cookies and lemonade. He resisted the instant urge to kiss her and reluctantly let her hand slide from his.
Tucker pulled his libido in on a short leash. Damn. It would be easy to get sucked in by her. She was gorgeous, smart, determined, and able to admit when she was wrong—a trait totally missing in the McCormack genetics—which he appreciated. But this was temporary. All temporary. And he’d do well to remember it. If he wanted to accomplish making a mark for
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley