office and informed her that he knew her little secret and if she wanted it to stay just between the two of them she was going to help him. Remembering that day made her stomach churn with anxiety and guilt.
Anxiety and guilt she’d been fighting for years.
It didn’t help that Knox McLemore intimidated the hell out of her. Not to mention that he could set her body on fire with nothing more than a scorching gaze.
From the moment he’d nearly run her over with his shiny black speed demon of a car—in the Trident Diving parking lot, no less—she’d wanted to hate him. But she’d needed to win the job more, and not simply because working on the Chimera was the kind of project she lived for.
If she failed and they hired someone else, Anderson McNair would ruin her reputation and sink her business.
Part of her had hoped Trident would award the project to someone else. Then the years of wondering and worrying would have been over.
But her life wasn’t the only one poised to be ruined. Her sister, innocent in the entire situation, would suffer as well. And Avery couldn’t stomach that.
McNair expected her to sabotage the assignment...to torpedo her integrity and announce that the wreckage wasn’t the Chimera, no matter what the evidence proved.
Her only hope was that Jackson Duchane was wrong and the ship they were heading toward really wasn’t the Chimera.
Best-case scenario—but her life never worked that way.
Avery couldn’t worry about that right now, though. She needed to concentrate on getting through the next five minutes without Knox McLemore realizing how vulnerable to him she really was.
A feral smile crossed his face. “Let’s get one thing clear, doc.”
She hated that word. And not simply because Knox seemed to delight in shortening her professional title. That got under her skin plenty, but she preferred no one use it...because she hadn’t actually earned the damn thing.
“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.”
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
