Fortune Hunter's Hero. Linda Turner
you’re afraid I’ll take your information and run with it, and in the process, cheat you.”
She shrugged. “It’s happened before, Mr. Wyatt—”
“Buck,” he corrected her.
She hesitated, her eyes narrowing speculatively. “Our relationship is strictly business, Mr. Wyatt. There’s no need for first names between us.”
“Unless you detest formality, Rainey. I do. Now, about our deal—”
“We don’t have a deal.”
“Not yet, we don’t. This is your chance, love. Go for it.”
Rainey’s heart stumbled at the casual endearment. It meant nothing, she told herself. He probably called every woman he knew love. So what did he call a woman he cared about? And why did she care?
Horrified at the direction of her thoughts, she jerked herself back to the situation at hand. After years of working with her father to find the lost mine, searching for clues all over the world, she finally had a shot at finding it. She couldn’t blow this!
“I’m not just selling information,” she told him. “I want to be actively involved in the search for the mine.”
He lifted a brow at that. “You want to get those pretty hands of yours dirty?”
“Yes, I do,” she said with a jut of her chin. “And I want a finder’s fee and a percentage of the mine’s gross for the first ten years of operation.”
“Ah…money.” He sighed, smiling slightly. “Why did I know we would get around to that? Just out of curiosity, how much is this supposed finder’s fee you think you’re entitled to?”
When she named a figure that by any stretch of the imagination was outrageous, he laughed. “Yeah, right. Would you like my right arm, while you’re at it? Or maybe my firstborn child? I don’t have one yet, but I haven’t given up hope. How much time do you have?”
Heat climbing in her cheeks, Rainey gave serious thought to dumping her salad on top of his head. It would have been no more than he deserved. But even as her fingers itched to snatch up the bowl and send it flying his way, she reminded herself that she held all the cards. Why was she letting him push her buttons? She had a better idea of where the mine was than he did.
Sitting back, she surveyed him in amusement. “Is that a no?”
“What do you think? Of course it’s a no!”
“Okay,” she said easily, and took her first bite of steak. “Wow! This is incredible! How’s yours?”
“Excellent,” he said without tasting it.
“Really? I’ve never seen anyone taste something without taking a bite.”
His lips twitched. “We all have our talents.”
Rainey’s eyes dropped to the sensuous curve of his mouth. He would be a good kisser, she thought, only to blink in confusion. Had she lost her mind? What was she thinking? The man stood between her and one of the biggest treasures she’d ever hunted. And all she could think about was his mouth? She didn’t think so!
Thankful for the years of poker she’d played with her father, learning to bluff, she put on her game face and smiled. “You’re absolutely right. I’m really good at finding lost treasure, but you’re not interested in that. That’s okay. I understand. You want to find it yourself. I can’t blame you for that. I’ll just move on to the next treasure. If you change your mind, give me a call. Maybe we can work something out.”
He was a gambling man—she could see it in his eyes—but he didn’t, to his credit, look away. Instead, he studied her shrewdly. “You want too much. Can you guarantee that the mine is as rich as it’s reported to be?”
“There’re no guarantees in life, Mr. Wyatt. Especially when it comes to treasure hunting. It’s all a crapshoot.”
“Then you should come down off your price, Ms. Brewster. Or at least agree to take less if the mine doesn’t have the ore it’s rumored to.”
“And you should value the fact that you’re not going to spend years, possibly decades, looking in the wrong place,” she retorted. “Think about it, Mr. Wyatt. Without the right information, you might as well look for the mine in Mexico. You’re never going to find it.”
She saw his eyes flicker and knew she’d finally scored a direct hit in this game they were playing, but she had to give him credit. He didn’t cave in easily. “How do I know that you’re not just scamming me?” he asked, studying her with eyes that were sharp as a hawk’s. “You’ve given me no proof, no credentials. For all I know, you’re a waitress from Philadelphia. Where’s your proof, Ms. Brewster? Give me that, and then we’ll have something to talk about.”
“Well, if that’s all you need, why didn’t you say so?” she said, and reached into her purse and pulled out a letter.
Chapter 3
Expecting a map of some kind, Buck unfolded the single piece of paper and frowned at the letter that was written in Spanish. “This is your proof?”
“You wanted something in writing.”
“Something I could read!”
“You didn’t say it had to be in English. Would you like me to translate it for you?”
“Oh, sure. That’ll really inspire confidence. Is this all you’ve got?”
She hesitated, studying him with wary eyes that told him more strongly than words that she didn’t trust him any more than he trusted her. That should have done nothing to reassure him. Instead, her wariness told him that she knew something. Why else would she be leery of him?
“You do have something else,” he said accusingly.
“I do not!”
Her denial was too quick, too fierce. “Yes, you do,” he insisted. “I’m not blind. I can see it in your eyes. You’re afraid I’m going to take whatever you have and cut you out. And you have every right to feel that way. You don’t know me, don’t know what I’m capable of. That must be the most difficult part of your job…knowing who to trust. You could lose a bundle before you even knew you were in trouble.”
She didn’t even bother to deny it. “It happens,” she retorted. “Not often, but enough to make me gun-shy. I learned a long time ago not to trust a man who said he wasn’t going to take advantage. So if you want me to trust you, Mr. Wyatt, you’re going to have to give me something other than words.”
He had to give her credit—she didn’t pull any punches. Surveying her through narrowed eyes, he started the bidding war. “One percent.”
She didn’t even blink. “Twenty-five.”
Shocked, he laughed. “You can’t be serious!”
“Me? What about you? One percent? How serious is that?”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “So I was testing you, just to see if you were listening.”
“Oh, I’m listening,” she said dryly. “And your offer is…?”
He had to grin. She was like a dog with a bone. Not, he silently amended, that she in any way resembled a dog. Did she have a clue how cute she was? He’d always been drawn to blondes, but there was something about her black hair and the sparkle of amusement in her blue eyes that he found impossible to ignore. She was sharp as a tack, and he found that incredibly appealing. Did she know that when she smiled, he couldn’t take his eyes off her? How was he supposed to negotiate with the woman when he couldn’t even think straight around her?
Suddenly realizing where his thoughts had wandered, he stiffened. What the devil was he doing? This was a business deal, for God’s sake! If she had the slightest idea what he