Love Bites: A Sugar City Novella (Entangled Bliss) (3 page)

Feeling foolish for about a million damn reasons, he made his way back into the bar, sat in a completely different section and ordered a double. Way too many hours later, he went up to this room. Alone.

Chapter Two

“What’s with you this morning?”

Jeff glanced up from the duffel bag containing his wet suit, mask, and fins. He wasn’t planning on swimming with his
Carcharodon carcharias
friends, but with an outing like today’s, he liked to be prepared for anything.

“Nothing,” he said, trying not to snarl at his assistant. “Didn’t sleep.”

“You look like complete and utter sewer trash, man.” Pax had an annoying way with words.

“I’m fine. Ready to get this show on the road.” He needed to focus and forget everything about last night. The memory made him feel like an idiot all over again. “Yo, Manny!” he called toward the helm. “What’s the holdup, mate?”

Manny made a hand gesture through the window, then left the pilothouse, and walked out onto the deck. “We’re not all aboard,” he said. “Wouldn’t make a very keen captain if I left dock before every passenger arrived.”

Jeff glanced around at their down-sized crew. “Who are we waiting for?” he wondered aloud. This was a small, one-day expedition with only a few of Manny’s deckhands he’d used dozens of times, plus Manny and Pax. The research would go much quicker with a team this size, which was the whole point.

No fanfare, and thankfully no media.

“Got word last night,” Manny said, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. “The uni’s sending two more people.”

“Who?”

The captain smiled. His teeth gleamed extra white against his coal-dark skin. “Ya not gonna like it.”

Jeff felt his stomach muscles tighten. “Who?” he repeated, suspicious of the shit-eating grin on Manny’s face. If anyone liked to bust his chops, it was his childhood mate.

Manny cocked his head. “It’s audit time, my friend.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning…the head bloke from the science department is sending an accountant to make sure the money they gave you for this project is being spent properly.”

Jeff yanked out his cell and pressed speed-dial. “I know what a bloody audit is. I meant, why now? Why today’s trip? Don’t you think it’s a little coincidental—
Sellers
?” he barked into the phone.

There was a pause, then, “Don’t say it, Cruz.”

The tone of the voice on the other end made Jeff close his eyes, his stomach sinking deeper. It was a done deal. “This is a really bad day to have passengers,” he said. “We’re all going to be busy and I won’t have time to handhold someone through every detail of what I’m doing.”

“You’re going to have to make the time,” Dr. Sellers replied. They were colleagues, but Jeff knew it was pointless to argue with the head of the department. “The university pays the bills, not you,” Sellers said. “We’re paying for the use of that boat you’re standing on, all your expenses, and every dime that goes into your projects.”

Jeff nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know that.”

“The budget’s tight, and this trip wasn’t exactly on the books for so early in the fiscal year.”

Now wasn’t the time to tell Sellers who was really financing today’s outing. The less red tape the better. “Something came up rather quickly,” Jeff said. “It’s important.”

“I figured as much when I saw the request. I’m not doubting its importance, I’m just saying the science department isn’t a money tree and this trip shot off red flags. Of course if you allowed a camera crew aboard—”

“No way,” Jeff interrupted.

Not that this trip was top secret, but he was trying to keep it on the down low until he knew what they were dealing with. For one thing, it could be dangerous. Or it could end up being a complete bust. Either way, he didn’t want the whole thing aired during Shark Week.

His spots on the Discovery Channel had funded many of their expeditions, and Jeff was grateful there was an interest and curiosity about sharks these days. But if he thought one accountant sent from the University of Miami would be a pain in the tail fin, try three cameramen, two sound techs, and a boatload of insurance forms.

“Look, my hands are tied,” Sellers said. “I know you hate this, but you’re gonna have to find a way to live with it.”

Jeff sank onto the leaning post at the side of the boat, feeling the effects of last night’s no sleep weighing on him. “Should I even ask who the
other
passenger is?”

A few minutes later—after the news got even worse—they ended the call. Jeff was so frustrated, he felt like throwing his cell into Port Jackson.

“What’s the deal?” Pax asked, hooking their two laptop cases straps over his shoulder. “We’re seriously being audited today?”

“Looks like it,” Jeff confirmed, flatly. “The accountant at an independent firm from the States should be here any minute. Sounds like the uni is covering its ass.”

“Manny said we’re waiting on two passengers.”

“Yeah.” Jeff shook his head. “The other’s a journo.”

Pax’s face fell, probably like Jeff’s had when he’d heard the news from Sellers. “A reporter? Today?”

“Yep. Not only are we plagued by damn Pricewaterhouse or whatnot, but for all I know, the media will be documenting our every move.” He grabbed the back of his already sore neck. “So not what we need today.”

“That’s what you get for being the poster boy of the shark world,” Pax said, probably trying to lighten the mood. “Do they know about Old Faithful?”

Jeff shook his head. “Let’s hope not. If our theory’s incorrect and Old Faithful isn’t even there, no one but us will know this wasn’t a routine research cruise.”

“Or we could end up making a major discovery, boss.”

Jeff couldn’t help grinning. “Maybe.” Hearing the
clomp
of footsteps, he glanced up the dock into the early morning sunlight to see a kid who looked about twenty heading for the boat.

“This the
Mad Hatter
?” he asked in an American accent.

Manny stepped forward to greet him. “Sure is, son. And you are?”

“Leo. UM sent me for a write-up. University paper, nothing major.”

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Manny said. “Come aboard, then. Ain’t got all day.”

The kid made it up the ladder, then stood on the deck and smiled wide, looking young and eager and well rested. Jeff tried not to hate him on principle—he’d save that for their other “guest.”

“Hey…hi,” Leo said, probably feeling unwelcomed when no one except Manny did anything but glare at him. “So, great whites, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “Dangerous bastards. Rip your arms off.” He couldn’t help smirking when the kid’s eyes grew wide; he’d seen that reaction before. Maybe if he could scare him enough to keep him off the boat, one of his problems would be solved. “Sure you’re up for this? Trolling for whites isn’t for the faint.”

“Are you kidding,” Leo said. “I freakin’
love
sharks.”

Manny tossed his head back and roared with laughter.
Not helping
.

“Just what this boat needs,” Pax muttered sarcastically to Jeff. “Jacques Cousteau.”

Jeff chuckled bitterly.
Ridiculous
. “I don’t have time to stress about it. As long as he and his auditor chum stay out of my way.”

“Permission to come aboard?”

Jeff heard the female voice and saw Manny advance double time to the dockside ladder. “And you would be?” Manny asked.

“Sharona Blaire from SED Independent Auditors of Miami-Dade County. You’re the captain of this yacht?”

“
Ship
,” Jeff couldn’t help correcting under his breath as he turned, ready to begrudgingly greet the other thorn in his side.

“Whoa, steady there,” Manny said, as he helped the last addition to the party aboard.

Jeff saw the top of her head first as she climbed up the ladder. Long brown hair next, then the dark eyes that had seemed almost liquidy black by the dim light of the hotel pub. Then he saw those lips he’d kissed…not nearly enough.

His entire body went stiff with shock.

“Oh!” She gasped under her breath when their eyes met across the deck. “Um, hello”—her gaze moved quickly away—“everybody. N-nice day for a sail.”

“We use an
engine
,” Pax said, using the same condescending tone Jeff had only seconds ago, shooting an elbow into Jeff’s ribs. “Landlubber,” he tagged on with a sardonic laugh. “This might be fun after all.”

“Shut ya gob,” Jeff muttered, still unable to move.

“Ms. Blaire.” Manny took her arm like the gracious captain he was. “Welcome aboard the
Mad Hatter
.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes darted back to Jeff’s for an instant before Manny went on to introduce her to the other members of the crew.

“Last but not least, this is Dr. Jeff Cruz.” He put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Our resident marine biologist.”

“G’day,” Jeff said, looking at her, while trying not to look at her, which was something of a challenge.

“
You’re
the leader of this team?” She crossed her arms. “Funny, I don’t remember you mentioning anything about that when—”

“Wait.” The kid, Leo, stepped forward, a pen in his hand at the ready. “You two already know each other? Ha-ha…the shark biologist
knows
the auditor sent to shut you down? It’s like Romeo and Juliet.” He paused to chuckle and pull out a notebook. “That’s epic.”

Jeff looked at her, incredulous. “Shut us down?”

“No one’s shutting anything down,” she said, jutting out her chin an inch while gripping the handle of her small wheelie suitcase. “This is a simple audit required by the university. I’m here to do a spot check of how your sponsor’s funds are being spent. Purely routine.”

“In my experience, there’s no such thing as a routine audit,” Jeff said. Then he turned to Leo. “And we most certainly do not know each other,” he snapped, staring at him first, then flicking his eyes to Sharona, hoping she understood what he was doing and why. “I’m sure she meant she’s
heard
about my
research
.” Jeff glanced at her again, a bit more imploringly this time. “Am I right, Miss…” He tilted his head. “What did you say your name was?”

“Blaire,” Sharona said, lifted her chin, a little annoyed by last night’s kissing partner’s purposeful dismissal. “Sharona Blaire.”

The guy with the backward baseball cap pointed his pencil at her. “Sharona, like the song? Muh-muh-muh-myyy Sharona…” he sang, bobbing his head to the beat.

“Yep,
just
like the song.” She glanced at Jeff for a moment. He was still giving her that intense stare.
Jeez, ease up
. “And no.” She waved a hand in the air, trying to appear breezy. “We don’t know each other.”

It was humiliating enough to remeet the guy she’d almost slept with after knowing him a whopping two hours. When she’d chickened out, she hadn’t had the guts to go back down to the bar and tell him why. Instead, she’d hidden in her hotel room and emptied the minibar.

Which is why I’m late at the dock and feeling like reheated crap. What was I thinking?

No matter how irresistible he’d been last night, the man was practically coated in caution tape now. Facing the aftermath of a busted relationship with a coworker was crappy enough—once. No need to get the rep that she was prone to dating on the job. She was on professional thin ice with Garry, anyway, and if it got back that she’d been fraternizing with the person she was supposed to audit, her job—not to mention her reputation—would be toast.

Since their breakup, Garry had become vindictive enough to see to that. Or maybe he’d always treated her that way, like she wasn’t important. After they’d been together for months, she’d learned his sister lived less than a mile away…yet he’d never introduced them. She never knew if he’d been thoughtless or simply a hurtful ass. And that had been the first drop in a very deep ocean of douchey behaviors to come.

“So.” Sharona folded her arms, not wanting to dwell on her sucky past. “
You’re
the famous Dr. Jeff Cruz.”

He dipped his chin and exhaled a chuckle, doing a pretty good imitation of laid-back. But she knew better, especially after she’d been a front-row witness to him pinning her against the elevator doors last night. Anything but laid-back. The image was so vivid, her breath caught.

“You’re calling yourself famous now?” Manny said, clamping a hand on Jeff’s shoulder.

“
Her
words,” Jeff said, laying on the humble again, “not mine.”

Manny pulled back a toothy grin. “They don’t call you
Great White Cruz
for nothing.”

Sharona lifted her eyebrows.

“It’s just a stupid nickname,” Jeff muttered.

“Which you love,” Manny jabbed back.

“Shut the—”

Manny’s laugh cut him off. “Just messing with ya, mate.”

“Impressive to be known as a
great
anything,” Sharona offered. Though honestly, she hadn’t heard the name Jeff Cruz before reading on her flight about his research being funded by the University of Miami. But she did know men, so why not give his ego a stroke? Despite the short notice and no sleep, she was excited about her assignment, happy to make sure things were fiscally on the up and up with this crew of shark men. That was her only reason for being there.

“I’m Leo.” The baseball-cap guy—who looked like a college student—stuck out his hand to shake hers.

“Nice to meet you.”

“So, you’re with UM, too?”

“No. UM hired me to perform the audit.”

“Yeah?” He scribbled in a notebook that seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Would you mind giving me some info about your company?”

“I work for SED and—” Oh, crap. Was he a reporter? First, skating on thin ice at work and then almost hooking up with the leader of the shark guys… Sharona suddenly felt way in over her head.

“Where can I stow my gear?” she blurted, turning to the captain. Manny, was his name—Ngally Manimaliunga—if she recalled Garry’s notes correctly.

“There, below.” He pointed toward a companionway that probably led to the galley and sleeping quarters.

“Thanks. And I’ll need a place to set up my computer here.”

Manny gestured to a table and two chairs near the front of the helm, bolted to the deck. “That’s all we’ve got by way of a work station. Inside the helm won’t have much extra space.”