Irresistible Fortune

Brenna struggled to drag her focus away from Gavin Fortune. “Party?”

“Yeah. Just the society, some of the supporters and the mayor. It’ll be a social strategy meeting kind of thing.”

“Sounds fun.” And on a Friday night. See, Dr. Fortune, I have plenty of fun. She’d bet anchovy pizza wasn’t on the menu, either. How had he known about that, anyway? “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yep.” Sloan grinned, and for some reason Brenna didn’t like that smile one little bit. “Don’t go crazy on Gavin Fortune and his team. They’re the guests of honor.”

“You’VE NEVER HEARD the expression about catching more flies with honey? ”

Despite the fact that Sloan was digging her fingers into her arm, Brenna still wasn’t leaving the kitchen. There was no way she was facing that man.

Guest of honor indeed.

“‘The only way to have a friend is to be one,’” Brenna said in panic.

Sloan stopped trying to drag her to the doorway long enough to ask, “Yeats?”

“Emerson. I’m also rather fond of ‘Thou shalt not betray your friends for the sake of hot maritime archeologists.’”

“Is that in Deuteronomy or Numbers?” Sloan asked sarcastically.

“The Gospel according to Brenna.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t hot.”

Andrea Landry, another friend and Palmer’s Island High alum, pushed open the door. “No luck?” she asked, her gaze skipping over Brenna and going to Sloan.

“She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Should I get the sheriff?” Andrea asked.

“Is that really necessary?”

Both women ignored her, but Brenna was encouraged by realizing the sheriff probably had better sense than to get in the middle of a chick fight—even if he was married to one of the participants.

True enough, the next person through the door was Sheriff Tyler Landry, who took one look at the fierce expressions on Brenna, Sloan and Andrea’s faces and headed right back out again.

And he used to be a marine.

Not deterred in the least, her friends simply picked Brenna up and carried her through the doorway and down the hall.

Sometimes it really sucked being small.

After setting her down in the foyer, they nevertheless kept a tight hold on her arms as they inched into the front parlor. “Now remember,” Sloan said, waving at the mayor as he walked by them with a loaded plate of food. “We’re the bees, you’re the honey and he’s the fly we want to catch.”

Brenna shifted her stare from one friend to the other. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Not at all,” Andrea said calmly.

Sloan nodded sagely. “Without the metaphors, he’s a hot guy who likes hot girls.”

“And you’re a hot girl,” Andrea added, in case Brenna didn’t get the reference.

Brenna got it all right. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t like Gavin Fortune and didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

A picture of his damp, shirtless body flashed before her eyes, and her stomach clenched. She couldn’t be attracted to him.

It wasn’t fair that the only man who’d gotten her motor running in the last two years had the morals and character of a starving hyena.

“Sloan has bigger boobs,” Brenna returned, her heart racing with panic.

“The only hot, single girl,” Andrea reminded her.

“I don’t think he has too many standards in that area.”

“But Aidan and Tyler do,” Sloan said.

“Friends should come before husbands,” Brenna said, as her gaze flitted around the room in search of Gavin Fortune. She finally spotted him in the corner of the parlor, surrounded by—who else—a group of smiling women. And one of them happened to be Penelope Waters.

They couldn’t let him get his hands on an innocent like Penelope.

But why did she have to be the one to sail to the rescue? “Helen and Courtney are single.”

“But he’s interested in you,” Sloan said.

Brenna’s eyes widened. “So you want me to seduce him into meeting our demands?”

“I don’t know if you need to go that far …” Andrea began.

Sloan grinned. “But it couldn’t hurt.”

“We wouldn’t want Brenna to compromise herself.” Uncertainty slid across Andrea’s face, and Brenna felt a surge of hope.

“Who’s talking about compromise?” Sloan argued. “I bet he’s great in bed.”

“His body certainly seems fit,” Andrea said slowly. “And he doesn’t lack for confidence.”

Sloan sent Andrea a knowing look. “Seducing the man of your dreams worked for you.”

“Hellooo? Guys?” Brenna’s tone rose in alarm as she dug in her heels and brought them all to a standstill. They really were going to throw her at the wolf’s feet. “Remember me? Don’t you think I should have some say in this plot of yours?”

“No,” Sloan said at once. “You’re too emotionally involved.”

“And you’re the one who was so passionate about this project,” Andrea added. “Don’t you want to save The Carolina and her treasure?”

That was hitting below the belt. “Gavin Fortune is not the man of my dreams!”

“You wound me deeply with your barbs, fair Irish queen.”

Brenna’s gaze shot to the circle of women where Gavin had been standing only moments before. The women were there, but no Gavin.

He was standing right behind her.

She whirled, and her sudden movement caused Sloan and Andrea to drop her arms. She was finally free, and she longed to run, but she found herself rooted to the spot, caught by the laughing hazel eyes of Gavin Fortune.

How much had he heard?

“I’m great in bed, by the way.” His smile turned wickedly inviting. “I’m an avid swimmer, and you know, it’s all about stamina.”

And despite comments like that one, her body leaned toward him. It was humiliating.

Hadn’t she laughed at him the last time she’d seen him? Hadn’t she vowed he’d killed her attraction with his ridiculous lies about his credentials?

But were they lies?

When she remained furiously mute, Sloan and Andrea introduced themselves. The three of them exchanged pleasant chatting while Brenna’s blood pressure rose, and she fought to remind her libido that she wasn’t hard up enough to remotely consider throwing herself at her enemy. Even to protect priceless treasures. Even though the fact that he was within touching distance made her fingers tingle.

Along with other, more intimate body parts.

“Still too intimidated to talk to me?” Gavin asked her.

Brenna glared at him. “Not hardly.”

“You found out I’m smarter than you, and sent over your real estate friend rather than deal with me.”

“What smarts?” Brenna returned through clenched teeth. “You lied about those degrees.”

“Did I?” His hazel eyes danced. “You don’t believe I know what I’m doing?”

No way was she going there. “I’m too busy to deal with you.”

“What a shame.” He leaned close enough that she could smell his enticing cologne and see the telltale gold flecks in his eyes. “I’d really like you to come back.”

She swallowed hard. “You would?”

“Sure.” He straightened, his expression smug. “If you don’t, Helen’s going to wind up selling me half the island.”

Brenna felt heat climb up her neck. “With all your ill-gotten gains, you could certainly afford it.”

“You bet I can,” he returned with equal resentfulness. “But I’m sure one sage quote from you via some boring English poet would change my life, make me see the error of my ways and get me to donate all my profits to some moldy museum.”

“Wow,” Andrea said, her tone awed. “Helen was right about you two.”

“You’d be smokin’ together,” Sloan agreed.

Brenna glared at her friends.

Andrea was an art historian and expert appraiser. Why wasn’t she the one forced to deal with the arrogant treasure hunter? Sloan was president of the historical society. She should have to listen to his come-ons and stubbornness.

Then, like an angel sent from heaven, she saw her salvation.

Another high school friend, Carr Hamilton, had started dating a tough-minded, always-armed FBI agent in the spring. Though gooey in love with Carr, her live-in boyfriend, Malina Blair was intimidating as hell to everybody else.

She was perfect.

Without a glance to those around her, Brenna darted to Malina’s side and rudely interrupted the welcome kiss between her and Carr.

“How do you feel about murder-for-hire?” she asked, relieved to note Malina’s sidearm was indeed in its holster.

Malina’s turquoise eyes widened, then turned speculative. “Depends on who I’m killing.” She paused, angling her head. “I assume I’m the killer in this scenario?”

Brenna grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the group surrounding Gavin Fortune. “Definitely.”

3

Brenna stood on Sloan’s back deck, her neck craned as she stared up at the stars.

The sticky summer heat lingered in the air, and though she’d be more comfortable inside with the air-conditioning, the party had long since lost its luster. If it ever had any.

She wished she could be launched to that star, the third from the right. It looked peaceful and welcoming.

And galaxies away from Gavin Fortune.

Clearly, there was no justice on this planet anymore. Even Malina was charmed by him. The kick-ass agent had patted Brenna’s shoulder and pronounced, “It’s not a crime to be a flirt.”

Brenna was on her own in her resentment and suspicion.

Hearing the back door open, then close, she didn’t have to turn to know who’d joined her on the deck.

And she wasn’t so far gone into melancholy that she didn’t realize she needed to draw first blood. “I don’t like you.”

He leaned against the railing beside her. “And all your friends do. That must really suck.”

“You have no idea.”

“Maybe you’re trying too hard not to like me?”

Eyes wide, she turned her head and stared at his profile. “Are you delusional?”

Not seeming at all offended, he angled his head in consideration. “I don’t think so, but then if I were, how would I know?”

“Is it any wonder I want to run in the opposite direction every time I see you?”

He leaned toward her. “Face it, you have the hots for me.”

“Sure I do,” she returned sarcastically, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart rate pick up speed. Propping her forearm on the deck railing, she forced herself to hold his gaze and move closer, until their faces were mere inches apart. “Probably because of all those compliments about me and everything I care about.”

“I’m a scientist,” he said, his gaze flicking to her lips. “I’m required by law to hate literature.”

“You don’t seem like much of a rule follower. Do you really hate all the classics? Or is it just not cool to read?”

“Dickens had his moments, and I do like Yeats, but I’m more of a modernist when it comes to pleasure reading.”

He really did have a gorgeous face. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t put down the things I like.”

“And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t judge me without even knowing me.”

When he licked his lips, she bit back a groan. “I’ll do my best.”

“Tell you what, if I keep my derogatory comments about English poets and long-winded nineteenth century literature to a minimum, will you participate in an experiment?”

“What experiment?”

“Kiss me.”

As her breath caught in her throat, her heart lurched to a stop. Were Sloan and Andrea right? Was she jumping to conclusions? Would she and Gavin be great together? Was there something to this honey and bees thing? Maybe, with their chemistry leading them, they could find common ground somehow.

He continued in a low Texas drawl, “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since you stormed off the other day.”

She coughed to clear her throat. “You’ve been on my mind quite a bit, as well.”

His perfect teeth flashed in a smile. “Anything you want to mention, between the cuss words and name calling, that is?”

“Your degrees are imaginary.”

“Are they?” He seemed surprised.

“I had the historical society’s resident computer expert do a little research. She discovered your name change, by the way. Care to elaborate?”

“Fortune is descriptive—and sexy, don’t you think?”

That wasn’t an answer. A confirmation. Or a denial. Hmm … “It’s something, all right. I saw you talking to her earlier.”

“Who?”

“My computer expert—Penelope Waters.” Brenna narrowed her eyes. “Who you need to take off your radar instantly.”

“I don’t fool around with kids.”

“Or big-breasted waitresses.”

“For some reason, I find temperamental redheads fascinating all of a sudden. Are you going to let me kiss you or not?”

“I was waiting for you. Are you sure your lothario reputation is actually earned? Because so far—”

His mouth covered hers midrant. His lips were warm, persuasive, tasting appealingly of whiskey and sent a spark of desire shooting down her spine.

He cupped her jaw in his hand, angling her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue gliding against hers. She pressed her body to his, her hands clutching his soft cotton shirt as she fought to get closer.

Man, he felt amazing. She closed her eyes, shutting out her conscience, which was trying to remind her that she was kissing her opponent.

“I really don’t need this complication in my life at the moment,” he whispered hotly against her cheek.

“You’re hopelessly arrogant,” she returned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her aching breasts against his firm chest.

“You’re too serious.” His lips moved over hers for another heated kiss. “And you could be a lot quieter.”

She was perfectly happy with the method he used to silence her.

He had a great mouth, and the hunger that twisted low in her belly spread and intensified. As his hands slid down her back to cup her butt and tug her against his erection, she moaned.

The heat that had flared briefly between them a few days ago raged into a white-hot fire, leaving her body throbbing, and incinerating every vow she’d made about keeping her distance from this man.

He not only had her motor revving, it was on the verge of blowing. Yet she didn’t do one-night stands. And she couldn’t imagine anything with Gavin Fortune lasting beyond one night.

They were adversaries at best, stone-cold enemies at worst.

This same thought seemed to occur to him at the exact second it did her, since they both jumped back simultaneously.

“We can’t do this,” he said, his breathing harsh and choppy as he stared in disbelief at her.

“You started it,” she snapped, annoyed that she wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms.

“Me? You were all over me.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Delusional. You were the one who proposed the experiment.”

“Which was a complete failure. I don’t want you in the least.”

“Me, either.” Every cell in her body tingled, calling her a liar. “I’ll have no problem doing my duty by the historical society and checking up on every move you and your crew makes.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to look aggravated, even though she could see the desire lingering in his eyes as his gaze focused on her lips. “It’s summer. Can’t you set aside the overbearing teacher impulses until September?”

“Unfortunately for you, no.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Breath heaving, they glared at each other. In the next instant, they were plastered together.

Gavin leaned back in his deck chair on board the Heat and closed his eyes against the glaring sun overhead. “I’m in serious trouble, amigo.”

Pablo, lounging in his own chair, needed no clarification on the cause of Gavin’s problem. “She’s a looker. Could use a tan, though.” When Gavin glanced at him, he peeked over his sunglasses, his eyes lecherous. “Why don’t you invite her to sunbathe on deck tomorrow? I’ll watch over her while you pick through all that debris at the wreck site.”

“That’s a great plan,” Gavin said in mock admiration. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“No idea. You’re the one who’s supposed to be brilliant.”

“Sure I am. She can hardly stand the sight of me, so I’ll just call her up, invite her over and ask her to strip down to her bikini while we all drool over her.”

“I’ll be drooling. You’ll be diving.”

“Even better.”

“It is. She likes me better than you.”

“Oh, no, she doesn’t. You’re guilty by association. She thinks you’re part of my gang.”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d tell her you’re not a jerk.”

Gavin shook his head. “I can’t risk it.” He paused, feeling the weight of his lies more substantially than ever. “Besides, she’d hardly believe me now.”

With a sigh, Pablo sat up. “Keeping up your hotshot image gets you a lot of play, and our team a lot of press. Your agent called earlier, by the way. He wants to talk to you about a cameo in the next Dr. McFearsome movie.”

“Dr. McFearsome?”

“He’s the suave archeologist who’s obsessed with Egyptian culture, Tai Chi and hot blondes.”

Gavin winced. “Charming.”

“Could be fun.”

“I don’t see how.”

After a tick of silence, Pablo conceded, “If you’re miserable with your image then dump it. You don’t have to compete with Dan Loff anymore.”

Gavin curled his hand into a fist. “Loff doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Sure he does.” Pablo swatted his shoulder and stood. “Way too much.”

As Pablo walked toward the cooler, Gavin reflected that though Loff had been the catalyst and motivation for much of his professional life, Gavin himself had made the choices that had brought him to the crossroads he now faced.

He’d wanted the spotlight, and he’d gotten it. He could hardly complain about the results at this stage of the game.

“You want a beer?” Pablo asked, holding up a bottle.

“Yeah.” As his friend passed one over, Gavin wondered, “What’s for dinner?”

“Who am I, the little woman? Did you catch something today besides the blues?”

Gavin unscrewed the top of his beer bottle and took a long sip. “No. I got distracted by the buttons.”

“Brass?” Pablo asked as he settled back in his chair.

“Yeah, and with an eagle emblem. By 1863 the metal was hard to come by for the South, so it’s a pretty good find.”

“Could be off a Union uniform. The pirates had better gear than either side.”

“True.”

They drank in silence for a few minutes. Gavin watched a plane cruise by with a banner that read, Cal’s All-You-Can-Eat Seafood. 5-9 Daily Specials.

The Islanders would hate that. Anything interrupting the natural peace of their sandy paradise was met with derision or legal action. Even his expedition was likely to be tolerated more than planes, helicopters, motorcycles or an overabundance of Jet Skis.

Silence was golden.

Since he spent a great deal of his time in the dark and quiet, underwater, he could appreciate the sentiment.

He definitely liked kissing Brenna McGary into silence.

On another gulp of beer, he wished, futilely, for a moment’s peace from thoughts of that woman.

The woman he wanted beyond all reason. The one who tempted him to throw away the caution that—secretly, anyway—guided his every move.

If Sloan Kendrick hadn’t walked onto the deck and interrupted their make-out session, Brenna would have spent last night in his bed.

Which would have been a very bad move.

His body throbbed in protest.

She was determined to demonize him to the mayor, city council and the historical society. Even the damn sheriff had given him a stern look before Gavin had revealed—truthfully, for once—that he’d been raised in Texas and had a serious love for college football.

Charming this place was becoming a serious task. Over the last few years he’d taken for granted that particular aspect of his job.

If Brenna incited picketing or negative media reports, he’d be in a world of hot water with the owners of The Carolina, who needed quick cash for their treasure. As seemed to be the norm, it was up to him to care about the artifacts he found.

Him and Brenna.

She’d appreciate the irony if he ever had any intention of telling her the truth about himself.

“What graves did you dig up today, boys?” a familiar voice called from the direction of the pier.

Gavin’s pulse shot up. “Oh, hell.”

“It’s that attitude that’s making you so hateable.” Pablo leaped off his chair. “I, on the other hand, would be glad to take care of our Irish pixie.”

“Our—” Gavin rolled to his side and gained his feet, rushing after his buddy. “She’s my problem.”

As they moved forward, Pablo nudged him aside. “A woman should be revered and cherished. You don’t deserve her.”

Though part of him realized Pablo was simply messing with him, Gavin still found his blood boiling. No other man was coming within ten miles of his Irish pixie until they’d settled this conflict/passion/craziness between them. “Hey, pal, I saw her first.”

“No, you didn’t.”

They arrived on the bow just in time to see Brenna and Penelope—the society’s teenaged computer guru—walking down the gangplank.

Carrying a cooler, Brenna wore white Bermuda shorts and a bright green halter top. The high-heeled wedge sandals she used to overcome her issues with her stature were also present. And though he didn’t think her size diminished either her power or her beauty, he had to admit they did amazing things for her legs.

Since Pablo seemed determined to best him in the gentleman’s game, he let his friend take the cooler, then Brenna’s hand, and assist her to the deck, while Gavin did the same for Penelope.

The nineteen-year-old had lovely and curious brown eyes, which, if Gavin had been a decade younger and never encountered the fiery Brenna, would have intrigued him endlessly. “My technical expert is already gone for the day, Penelope, but if you’ll let me know when you want to come back, I’ll set up a meeting for you. He’d be glad to show you the Microseaomitter.”

Behind her glasses, her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Absolut—”

“Don’t let him sway you, Penelope,” Brenna interrupted, her green eyes fiercely fixed on his. “No telling how many treasures he’s absconded with today.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t judge,” Gavin said.

“I thought we agreed your radar wouldn’t include certain innocents,” Brenna countered.

“My sensors are otherwise occupied at the moment.”

Penelope, as intelligent as she was, certainly sensed the tension between him and Brenna. “He’s just being kind, Miss McGary. We talked about the Microseaomitter at the party last night.”

“That’s fine, but I told Sister Mary Katherine I’d be responsible for you.”

“I’m an orphan,” Penelope said to Gavin and Pablo. “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was little, and the Sisters raised me. However …” She narrowed her eyes in Brenna’s direction. “I’m nineteen now and about to start my sophomore year at the College of Charleston.”

Brenna offered the group an uncertain smile—like a parent, uncomfortable with how to publicly handle an outspoken child. “And everyone’s so proud of you.”

Not backing down in the least, Penelope crossed her arms over her chest. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Brenna said, looking a bit panicked.

Since Brenna excelled at giving him a hard time as well, Gavin was firmly on the teen’s side in this standoff.

“How am I ever going to be responsible if you guys never let me out of your sight?” Penelope returned.

“I don’t really have control of—” Brenna began.

“I’m a legal adult,” Penelope said forcefully. “I have control of my own life. I have my own apartment and pay my bills.”

Brenna grabbed the teen’s hands. “I’m so sorry. I truly didn’t mean to give you a hard time about coming here. I just …” She trailed off as her gaze found Gavin’s again. “Got carried away.”