Kira Sinclair: In Too Deep

“You’re on my ship. I make the rules.”

Knox studied her with a slow, lazy perusal that had lightning shooting beneath her skin. She’d already been sweltering under the pounding tropical sun, but suddenly sweat slicked every pulse point on her body.

She wanted to reach up, unbutton her blazer and sling it off. The only thing that stopped her was knowing the layer of linen was all that kept her tight nipples from Knox McLemore’s sharp gaze.

McLemore was the kind of man she stayed far away from—mellow, confident, purposely provocative. Because despite the persona she’d developed for business, inside she was still the shy, quiet girl who’d spent years moving from place to place and never quite fitting in anywhere.

Just standing in front of him left her edgy. She wanted to take a step back, but her feet were frozen in place.

She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes from Knox’s faded, ripped jeans and the T-shirt clinging to his powerful muscles. His dark brown hair was too damn long, flopping into his eyes in a way that both frustrated and enticed her.

She wanted to take a pair of scissors to it at the same time her fingers itched to pull it back so she could see his eyes. When it was in the way, it was difficult to know what he was thinking. Something that made her even more nervous.

Her skin itched. Her body throbbed. He was in her personal space and she wanted to break the connection, but her limbs simply wouldn’t respond.

Asher cleared his throat, finally breaking the spell. Relief rushed in when he said, “Why don’t I show you to your quarters, Firecracker?”

Avery graced him with a tight, grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

She was hot, tired and sticky. Getting out of her travel-stained clothes sounded like heaven.

She turned to follow Asher, but unfortunately Knox kept pace behind them. She could feel the heat of his hot caramel eyes sweeping up her back.

“You know these allegations are bullshit,” Knox said from behind her.

This was even ground, arguing with him about the job. “No, I don’t know that, Mr. McLemore. And I’m fairly certain you don’t either. There’s enough doubt that the judge was ready to rule against your request for diving rights.”

“And enough evidence that they agreed to wait for further verification,” he said, each word lazy and sure. She didn’t know which she hated worse, when he was intentionally antagonistic or when he seemed smugly certain her presence here was a waste of everyone’s time.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. She’d read the research presented by the Trident team. She’d followed the detailed information on just how Jackson Duchane and Loralei Lancaster had come to find the wreckage. She had to admit their case was strong, but whatever evidence McNair had provided was enough to cast doubt...not that she necessarily thought it valid.

But Knox didn’t need to know that.

“She’s the Chimera , doc.”

Avery gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to correct Knox again about the damn nickname. He was doing it on purpose now, which drove her insane. But she wasn’t willing to play his game.

“That’s what I’m here to find out, Knox.” In the cramped hallway, she stopped, turning to face him. Better to deal with this now than later. “This whole process will go much smoother if you get out of my way and let me do my job. We both want the same outcome.”

Knox reached out, as if he was going to touch her arm, but stopped just short of actually doing it. They both stared at his fingers just hanging there in the empty space between them.

“I’m not entirely certain that’s true.”

She tried not to let his distrust panic her. “Why do you say that?”

Knox pressed closer, invading her personal space without actually touching her. The pressure of anxiety and awareness weighed on her chest, making it difficult to pull in a full breath while she waited for his answer.

Only he never gave her one. Instead, his lips pulled up into a smile that wasn’t real.

“I’ll have your bags sent down, doc.”

2

SEVERAL HOURS LATER they were finally underway, heading for the open sea. Later than Knox had wanted because of a few logistical snags...including hauling all six of Dr. Walsh’s suitcases onto the ship.

Had the woman packed her entire wardrobe? What did she expect to need on a ship in the middle of the Caribbean?

He’d thought about opening every one of her bags and rifling through—with the intent to toss any heels, pearls or matching pantsuits he found along the way—but had decided his blood pressure probably couldn’t take the exercise.

Besides, he’d figured his time would be better spent looking for something that would tell him what she was hiding. Although, he didn’t do that either.

Avery had disappeared into the cabin she’d been assigned, which she had to herself despite their already cramped quarters since the only other woman on the ship, their cook, had quarters right off the galley. So far, she hadn’t resurfaced. Not even for dinner or to meet the crew.

They were all going to be working together for the next few weeks. The least she could have done was introduce herself and pass around a smile.

Trident had been open for a little over two years, but even though they were a relatively new business, and quite a few of the crew had only recently been hired on, they were a tight-knit group.

Maybe it was a legacy from their time in the Teams, but Asher, Jackson and Knox had worked hard at building camaraderie and a sense of family with their employees. As soldiers, they’d depended on each other for their lives. While they no longer worked with bullets flying, you had to trust that the guy beside you knew what he was doing and could competently and quickly complete his job, freeing you up to do the same.

They worked hard, and they played hard. When jobs required 24/7 commitment and living in tight quarters, it was sometimes just as important to blow off steam together.

Rather than wallow in irritation, Knox had come up on deck to try and calm down. The quiet shush against the hull as the Amphitrite cut through the water would normally have been enough to accomplish that. But not tonight. What he really needed was a spin behind the wheel of his Shelby, but that wasn’t in the cards.

Tonight he was restless, the first time he’d felt that way since leaving the Teams. Somehow, after living through more life-and-death situations than he cared to count, not even the stress of owning his own business made him uneasy.

There was something about this whole adventure, though, that didn’t sit right with him. Not just having Avery aboard. But the allegations McNair was making.

In his gut, Knox knew this was an attempt to grab their work. This had to be McNair’s play to claim the wreckage and treasure for himself. When Trident had announced that the Chimera had been found, there was a frenzy of interest, rumors of gold heading for the Confederate States a huge media draw.

They’d already been approached by a documentary crew from a major science channel interested in recording the process of salvaging and preserving the wreckage. Kennedy was currently working to get the details for that project in place.

McNair was simply one of the sharks that had swum out of the depths.

But unlike the others, he was causing serious problems.

Knox wasn’t going to let McNair’s claims derail their plans for the Chimera . And, unfortunately, Avery Walsh was a major part of solving the issues plaguing them. So he needed to take Asher’s advice—bite his tongue around the maddening woman and let her do her job.

While keeping a sharp eye on everything she did.

The sooner she completed her task, the sooner she could be off his ship. And the sooner they could get back to business as usual. He could return to the uncomplicated existence he’d enjoyed for the past two years.