The Deeper the Passion.... Jennifer Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ shrugged. “Who knows?”

      “Come on. I know you must have looked for it.”

      “I did, early on. Truth is, these waters are filled with old wrecks, and I’ve always stumbled across something else to keep me busy. The combination of Spanish treasure fleets sailing regularly from Havana crossed with yearly hurricanes makes this area rich pickings for a treasure hunter.”

      “But you have better equipment now than you did then.” Excitement started to prickle her skin. “I bet there was treasure on that ship when it went down.”

      “No doubt.” Jack’s eyes rested on hers, humor sparkling in their depths. “I never thought I’d hear you begging to go on a treasure hunt with me.”

      “I’m not begging!”

      “Not yet, but if I don’t say yes, you will be.”

      His arrogance made her want to slap him. “I’m simply asking.”

      “No.” He turned and walked across the kitchen, then out through a door on the far side where he disappeared from view.

      Vicki stood staring after him for a moment, her mouth gaping open like a fish. Then she strode after him. She spotted him in a long, stone corridor. “What do you mean, no?”

      He turned. “I mean, no, I won’t take you out hunting for part of some crazy old cup. Though I’m damn sure curious about why you want it so bad.”

      “What if the legend is true, and the Drummonds won’t be happy again until the pieces of the cup are reunited?” She lifted a brow, trying to look nonchalant. It was a stretch.

      Jack raised his own brow in response. “From what I can tell, none of us is really suffering right now.”

      “And none of you is happily married, either.” Though his cousin Sinclair would be soon, largely thanks to her meddling.

      “Maybe that’s why we’re happy.” He shrugged and kept walking.

      “Were your parents happily married?” She hurried to keep up.

      “You know they weren’t. My mom took my dad to the cleaners in the divorce. She even got this island.”

      His mom was a famous Nicaraguan model, now on her fourth or fifth husband. “See? Sinclair’s parents weren’t happy, either. It’s his mom who’s the driving force behind the search for the cup. She doesn’t want her son to suffer like she did.”

      “How is old Sinclair? Still trimming his hedge funds into topiaries?”

      “Sinclair is a very nice man, I’ll have you know. And he’s just fallen in love, too.”

      “There goes your theory about the family curse.”

      “Get this. He and his newly beloved were secretly pining for each other for years—she’s his housekeeper—and it wasn’t until they started looking for the cup that they finally hooked up.” She didn’t mention her own fairy godmother-esque role in shoving them together.

      He reached a carved wooden door and rested one big hand on the handle. “How sweet. What if I don’t want to fall in love?”

      “Maybe you already have.”

      “With you?” His dark eyes twinkled.

      “With yourself.” How could he still look so handsome? You’d think all that sun and salt air would have wizened him into a raisin. Instead he looked bronzed and burnished like a fine statue from ancient Greece, ready to throw a discus in the Olympics or besiege a walled city. His body had filled out a little in the past few years—all hard muscle, of course. Lucky thing she wasn’t as soft as she used to be or she’d be in danger of falling for him all over again. “Okay, that was uncalled for. You’re surprisingly modest, considering your accomplishments. And I don’t suppose you have any shortage of women madly in love with you at any given time.”

      “You’re right, though.” He looked thoughtful.

      “You do love yourself?”

      “No. That I’ve never fallen in love. Not really.” His eyes darkened and he looked as if he was about to say something else but didn’t.

      She wanted to make a quip about how he’d been pining for her all those years, but she didn’t speak, either. Too much wishful thinking or something. “And you think it’s time you did?”

      Still hovering outside the door, he rubbed at the muscle of his left arm. “I do want children.”

      Her eyes widened. Jack Drummond wanting a family? She didn’t believe it. Maybe he was winding her up. “Maybe some will wash ashore in the next storm.”

      “You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. I like kids. They’re fun. They bring a different perspective to everything, and they enjoy toys as much as I do.”

      Vicki laughed. “You’re always full of surprises, Jack. So why don’t you have any rugrats running around Castle Drummond?”

      “Haven’t met their mom yet.” He held her gaze while he tilted his head. “At least I don’t think I have.” His voice contained the tiniest hint of suggestion. Was he playing with her? In that case he might be playing right into her hands.

      “See? You need to find the cup so you can find Mrs. Right and start building your team. Let’s look at some of those big complicated maps you love and see if we can figure out where the wreck is.” She moved toward him. She could tell he was at least slightly interested, despite his protests.

      “I see you know the way to a man’s heart is through his nautical maps.” He finally turned the handle and pushed open the door. “But first, let’s go to bed.”

      Two

      Jack walked into the bedroom, knowing Vicki would follow. She thought herself wild and unpredictable, but he knew better. She wanted that old cup for some reason and she was very determined in pursuit of a goal.

      He couldn’t resist turning to enjoy her expression. As expected, she’d walked coolly in behind him and was surveying the space. “Nice. Is that bed French?”

      “Might be.” The big oak monstrosity had been there since the house was built.

      “I bet it could tell a few tales.” She walked over to the headboard and examined the carved decoration.

      “Lucky thing it’s discreet.” He swung himself onto the bed and relaxed, arms behind his head. “Come on in.”

      “You didn’t seriously lure me in here in hope of seducing me, did you?”

      “Hope springs eternal.”

      “I didn’t know you were such a bright-eyed optimist.”

      “You have to be an optimist in the treasure hunting game. Eyes on the prize.”

      Vicki’s almost-black hair was tied up in a messy bun, with tendrils falling about those adorable ears he СКАЧАТЬ