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.
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