Deep Blue Read Online Free Page B

not-quite-shoulder-length hair, the most glorious rich, deep red he’d ever seen. She was shorter than average, maybe five-foot-three, and petite, with what appeared to be a great set of legs showing below her crisp white shorts.
    She wore a gauzy white shirt unbuttoned over a bright orange tank top, and when the wind whipped the tails apart, he could see she had a nice set of breasts.
    His groin tightened pleasantly. He hadn’t been with a woman in months, and this one had all the right equipment in just the right places. Still, he wondered why she had come, and when he saw Chalko toss up her bag, rev up the engine, and turn the boat back toward shore, leaving his passenger behind, he silently vowed he would kill Eddie Markham if he’d sent out some rich tourist he was trying to sell one of his overpriced villas.
    Conn’s jaw tightened as he fell in behind the skipper, heading for the ladder to the deck.
     
    Hope felt the deck sway beneath her feet and shifted to maintain her balance. The Conquest was eighty feet long, Eddie Markham had told her on the way to the dock, and looked to be very well equipped. Of course, Brad Talbot would make sure of that. He would want to be viewed as a man capable of accomplishing the formidable task Treasure Limited was undertaking.
    She glanced around and spotted a fiftyish, silver-haired man walking toward her while a taller, dark-haired man followed a few feet behind.
    She smiled at the first man. “Hello, I’m Hope Sinclair. It’s very nice to meet you. You must be Conner Reese.”
    He gave her a warm, inviting smile. “Actually, I’m Bob Gibson, captain of the Conquest. ” He turned to the other man who walked up just then. “This is Conner Reese.”
    She tried not to stare. If she’d had more time, she would have known everything there was to know about the partners of Treasure Limited. As it was, she knew Brad Talbot, and she had met Eddie Markham. This man, the head of the actual search operation, Conner Reese, was not at all what she had expected.
    She extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reese. I’m Hope Sinclair. I assume you’ve been expecting me.”
    “Expecting you to what?”
    She didn’t like his tone, or the unfriendly look in his eyes. But she had to admit they were gorgeous, the same incredible blue as the sea around them. And he was handsome. Remarkably so. He was wearing nothing but a pair of red swim trunks and white canvas deck shoes, leaving his chest bare and drawing her eyes to his deeply sculpted muscles and impressive biceps, a lean, flat, six-pack stomach, and a set of shoulders that would stretch the limits of an extra-large shirt. And he was tall, at least six-foot-two, with a very dark tan.
    Still, it was obvious he wasn’t pleased to see her, and that jabbed her temper. She didn’t want to be there in the first place. The least he could do was be pleasant.
    She pasted on a smile. “Since you weren’t informed, I suppose I had better explain. I’m a writer for Adventure magazine. I’m here to do an article on your search for the Nuestra Señora de Rosa. I assumed someone from the magazine would have called you.”
    “Yeah, well, they didn’t. Adventure might like to do a story, but unfortunately, we’re not interested. It’s a shame you came all this way for nothing, but that’s the way it is. The last thing we need is a bunch of people finding out we’re down here looking for sunken treasure.”
    She worked to keep her friendly smile in place, all the while cursing Conner Reese. “I’m afraid you don’t understand. I’ve been assigned to do this story, and that’s what I intend to do.” She glanced around at all the fancy, ultra-modern equipment on the deck, most of it new. “You probably have a satellite phone out here. Why don’t you call Brad Talbot? He can explain what’s going on.”
    “Talbot? This was Talbot’s idea?”
    A noise behind them interrupted her answer. She turned to see one of the crew