Fortune Hunter's Hero. Linda Turner

found proof in their library,” she said quietly. “I have copies of excerpts from the diary of one of the missionaries. You’re welcome to read them.”

      “So let’s see them,” he retorted as the waitress arrived with their food. Sitting back, he waited expectantly. “Well? I presume you have this evidence with you.”

      “I have it in a safe place,” she assured him.

      “This is a safe place. Let’s see it.”

      “Yeah, right.” She laughed. “Nice try, Mr. Wyatt. Do I, by any chance, have Stupid tattooed on my forehead?”

      “I never said you were anything less than intelligent,” he replied, amused. “Obviously, you’re afraid I’ll take your information and run with it, and in the process, cheat you.”

      She shrugged. “It’s happened before, Mr. Wyatt—”

      “Buck,” he corrected her.

      She hesitated, her eyes narrowing speculatively. “Our relationship is strictly business, Mr. Wyatt. There’s no need for first names between us.”

      “Unless you detest formality, Rainey. I do. Now, about our deal—”

      “We don’t have a deal.”

      “Not yet, we don’t. This is your chance, love. Go for it.”

      Rainey’s heart stumbled at the casual endearment. It meant nothing, she told herself. He probably called every woman he knew love. So what did he call a woman he cared about? And why did she care?

      Horrified at the direction of her thoughts, she jerked herself back to the situation at hand. After years of working with her father to find the lost mine, searching for clues all over the world, she finally had a shot at finding it. She couldn’t blow this!

      “I’m not just selling information,” she told him. “I want to be actively involved in the search for the mine.”

      He lifted a brow at that. “You want to get those pretty hands of yours dirty?”

      “Yes, I do,” she said with a jut of her chin. “And I want a finder’s fee and a percentage of the mine’s gross for the first ten years of operation.”

      “Ah…money.” He sighed, smiling slightly. “Why did I know we would get around to that? Just out of curiosity, how much is this supposed finder’s fee you think you’re entitled to?”

      When she named a figure that by any stretch of the imagination was outrageous, he laughed. “Yeah, right. Would you like my right arm, while you’re at it? Or maybe my firstborn child? I don’t have one yet, but I haven’t given up hope. How much time do you have?”

      Heat climbing in her cheeks, Rainey gave serious thought to dumping her salad on top of his head. It would have been no more than he deserved. But even as her fingers itched to snatch up the bowl and send it flying his way, she reminded herself that she held all the cards. Why was she letting him push her buttons? She had a better idea of where the mine was than he did.

      Sitting back, she surveyed him in amusement. “Is that a no?”

      “What do you think? 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.