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salvage business isn’t an ATM machine.” He waited a beat. “Princess.” A flicker of her lush lashes told him the way he said it grated. “On a salvage, it’s always a crapshoot if there’s any return on the investment at all.”
    Nick already knew their investors—all of them—were going to be very happy, and he and his dive team hadn’t finished the salvage, much less had everything cleaned and processed. An educated guess put everyone’s profits at a conservative 600 percent return. Conservatively .
    Not that he’d share that information until all Brian’s I’s and T’s were crossed and dotted. Maybe it wasn’t any of her business. Maybe she was scheming to make off with her brother’s money after all.
    “What do you mean?” she demanded.
    “I mean,” he said evenly, “that your brother knew the risks when he made the investment and handed over the check.”
    “My God.” Her skin suddenly looked pale against her dark hair. “The risks? Are you saying you haven’t recovered anything in all these months? That Draven has lost his investment?”
    What? He frowned. “No, I’m telling you that the dive isn’t completed, and that everything we do retrieve has to be taken back to our archeologists on Cutter Cay before proceeding.” Like he’d said already. “Until then, your brother’s investment is not in the form of liquid assets.”
    She looked horrified, appalled down to her manicured nails. “It was five million euro!”
    “A hefty sum,” Nick agreed.
    Bitter chocolate eyes flashed and the expertly applied makeup failed to hide the heightened color in her cheeks. “How long will that take?”
    Nick shrugged. “Six months. A year. Maybe more.”
    “That’s unconscionable! Haven’t you found the shipwreck you were looking for?”
    “We found her.”
    “Then what’s the da—” She caught herself and finished in a more modulated tone. “What’s the problem?”
    Nick repeated what he’d told her—in Italian.
    Her chin tilted, and her expressive eyes darkened with annoyance. “I understood you perfectly well in English, Mr. Cutter. I’m neither brainless nor deaf. I understand the process of provenance. But if a portion of the El Puerto ’s treasure has already been retrieved, then I’ll take Marrezo’s share now, and save you the time and trouble of returning Draven’s investment to him later.”
    “No.” He said it without a fleck of emotion. Cold and controlled. Reluctantly fascinated by the fact that the cooler he became, the harder it appeared for her to contain her temper. Nick found watching it unravel fascinating. If looks could kill he’d be a dead man.
    “Wha—”
    “ Naheen. Ngo. Saan . Do you have a language preference for the word no, Your Highness? If so, I’d be happy to use it.”
    Color high, teeth clenched. She recrossed her legs impatiently. Pissed, but not moving until he gave in.
    “I’m not leaving empty-handed.”
    “Hard to swim carrying plastic buckets of gold coin.”
    “I won’t be swimming, Mr. Cutter.”
    “Yes, you will.” As if on cue, the whop-whop-whop of helicopter rotors cut through the ambient splash of waves against the hull. “That sound you hear is your ride leaving.”
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    Bria hadn’t heard the helicopter before Cutter mentioned it, but now that she did, she shot out of her chair as if jet propelled. Just in time to see her ride back to civilization swoop down, and then lift out of sight. “That—” Scum-sucking, bastard . “I told him to stay. I paid him to wait .”
    “Hire him out of Las Palmas?”
    “Yes.”
    “Notoriously unreliable.” He didn’t look even mildly sympathetic.
    Lord. Could this trip get any worse? “Apparently.” Bria sank back into the chair. Her eyes rose to his. “Now what?” The question was more for herself than him.
    Not a flicker of reaction to her plight. He couldn’t be pleased to be stuck with an uninvited guest, but his expression was impossible to read.