And maybe Ryder could help.
She opened a bottle of wine, deciding tonight they were going to talk, lay everything out on the table and see where they stood.
It was time for honesty, on both sides.
Which should make for an interesting evening.
CHAPTER FIVE
Heart pounding in excitement, Isabelle tried for nonchalance, but failed. She couldn’t help but gape as the launch took her out to Dalton’s yacht.
It was shiny, sleek, and beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to climb on board. She had a feeling her entire life was about to change.
She’d gotten his portfolio, read it through, and made a few phone calls for verification. It hadn’t taken her long after that to pack up her things and check out of the cheap hotel room. She’d practically sprinted down to the dock.
Okay, so she’d taken a shower first, changed clothes and made sure she looked decent. After all, she had a benefactor to impress. A stinking rich benefactor. If she played her cards right, all her dreams might soon come true.
The launch came up next to the yacht and she was helped aboard by a crew member who held out his hand and assisted her up the ladder.
Wow. Polished, gleaming deck, cushioned seating and lounge chairs, a bar, even a hot tub. Fancy stuff. Amazing the things money could buy.
“Mr. Gabriel will be right with you, ma’am. I’ll take your luggage to one of the cabins below,” the deckhand said with a short nod of his head.
“Thank you.”
She wandered around, running her hand over the railing and staring out to sea. Calm, blue waters, and underneath was the possibility of a lifetime. Butterflies flitted in her stomach, anticipation driving away the hurt and anger she’d carried with her these past few months.
Don’t think about it. Do your job and just forget.
A soft breeze blew strands of hair against her cheek. She tucked them behind her ear, enjoying the warm afternoon sun against her face. This was so peaceful, the rocking motion of the boat lulling her into a sense of security she hadn’t felt in far too long.
She needed good things to happen in her life. A dark cloud had been hanging over her head, and she was determined to blow it away.
Success could provide the hard wind she needed to obliterate that cloud. And money could supply a lot of amnesia. Then she could forget the bad things.
“Welcome aboard.”
She turned at the sound of Dalton’s voice, once again struck by an instantaneous attraction to him. More than just his appearance, though that part of him was mighty fine. White linen pants, blue button-down silk shirt, they both looked great against his dark tan. But it was more than appearance. There was the sexiness of his voice, the slow and easy way he walked toward her, the way he smiled as if he was genuinely happy to see her. What woman wouldn’t be affected by all that in one delectable package?
He held out his hand and she slid hers against his palm, then fought a shudder.
A zap of electricity, a sudden rush of heat.
Wow. Now that was chemistry. But it was more than that. Something behind his eyes, an awareness, as if she knew him. . really knew him. An instant comfort. She rarely felt that with men. Men always made her uncomfortable. She used them, definitely, but she was never at ease with them.
Dalton felt. . easy.
“Thank you for agreeing to provide the funding for this venture,” she said.
“I’m glad my portfolio met with your approval.”
She snorted, then clamped her lips together, unable to believe she’d done that. “Sorry. It’s just that. . who wouldn’t find your portfolio acceptable? You are a billionaire, after all.”
He smiled, seemingly not insulted. “I guess you have a point. Should I feel used?”
“Probably.”
Now it was his turn to snort. “I like an honest woman. How about a drink?”
Honest? Now that was a quality she’d never attributed to herself, but Dalton didn’t have to know that. “I’d love one.”
He motioned to a table under a shaded overhang. “Bloody Marys, Dimitri. Doubles.”
When he slid into the chair next to hers, she said, “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“No. I just like a strong cocktail. I can make yours a single if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “Not necessary. I can handle my alcohol.”
“Good.” He swirled the celery around the dark red liquid, then lifted the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. Something about that action really hit her hot buttons. The color of the drink was compelling. She took a drink out of her own glass, enjoying the hot, spicy flavor.
“It’s really good.”
He nodded. “Dimitri is a great bartender.”
“So is this what you do with all your time? Sail around on your yacht?”
“Not exactly. I have many business interests that take me around the world.”
“Such as?”
“Financial interests. Investments. But my companies run well on their own and I can afford the best people. That leaves much of my time open for personal pursuits.”
“Again, such as?”
“Boating, obviously. Diving, of course. The acquisition of antiquities. Hunting.”
“Really? What do you hunt?”
He looked down and smiled into his glass. “Large game.”
“Sounds interesting, and dangerous.”
He looked up at her, his expression serious. “It can be deadly.”
Somehow she got the idea he was talking about something other than deer hunting. She’d like to know more.
But it wasn’t her business to know more about Dalton. All she had to do was use his boat and his money.
“Must be nice to be able to do whatever you want.”
“It is. Maybe if you find Atlantis, you’ll be in the same position.”
She clasped both hands around the chilled glass. “It’s a dream of mine to be that successful.”
“It means that much to you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Freedom. Prestige. The ability to hunt for treasure without worrying about how to fund it. Obviously you’ve never had to worry about money, so you don’t understand what it’s like not to have it.”
“You grew up poor?”
She shrugged. “Not exactly poor, but not rolling in the dough, either.”
“I couldn’t find any information on one Isabelle Smith, archaeologist. So maybe you should tell me about yourself.”
She figured he’d check her background, even wondered if he’d accept this venture without knowing much about her. “My mother was an archaeologist. I learned everything I know from her.”
“Was? Is she retired?”
“Dead.”
He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “I’m sorry.”