Riptide Read Free Page B

Italian, maintaining eye contact. Okay. Not a boob man . “You’re extremely photogenic, Your Highness. Thanks, Blake,” he added in English, addressing the older man hovering beside her. “I’ll take it from here.” He turned those extraordinary blue eyes back to her, his expression set and coldly dismissive and not in the least welcoming nor interested.
    “I’m Cutter. What can I do for you, Princess?” he asked coolly, switching back to Italian. A single drop of water snaked slowly down his bronzed bicep and she had to blink the conversation back into focus.
    She wasn’t used to being called Princess. And she sure as hell wasn’t used to a man using that tone of voice when he spoke to her. She’d done nothing to earn his—what? Contempt? Scorn? Bria had no idea what lay behind his inscrutable expression. But she didn’t like it.
    She waited until the other guy left the room. She heard his footfalls just fine, and her own as she tap-tap-tapped a few steps closer, hand extended. “English is fine, and call me Bria, please.”
    His fingers, cool and still damp from his swim, closed over hers in a polite and brief handshake. Firm. Decisive. No lingering.
    Her heart jolted in surprise. One look at his polite expression told Bria he clearly didn’t feel the sharp spike of electricity that she’d experienced when skin touched skin. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She took a small step back. A tactical retreat.
    Fine. Cutter clearly wasn’t impressed, or charmed, or blinded by lust seeing her bare, red-polished toes in high heels. So be it. Bria’s tone changed slightly. “If you know who I am, then you know why I’m here.”
    “If you’d sent word you wanted to observe the dive, I would’ve made arrangements for an overnight stay. Unfortunately, with a full crew, and a large dive team, that won’t be possible at this time.”
    Dismissed. Again. Before she’d even made her pitch. This was getting old, fast. “I’m not here to observe you dive, Mr. Cutter,” she said with asperity. “Nor do I have the intention of spending any more time on board your ship than necessary.”
    She indicated the waiting helicopter outside the window behind her. “I’m here for a refund.”
    He gave her a bland look. “A refund?”
    Bria felt her cheeks burn as her temper rose. Her temper was her Achilles’ heel, and she’d spent most of her life learning to control it. For seven short years she’d been a pampered princess in a fairytale land. Then she’d been ripped from everyone, everything she loved, and plunged into a terrifying nightmare that had changed her life forever. She’d learned to modulate her temper over the years. And because she considered it one of her worst faults, she did everything she could not to lose it. She should take lessons in self-control from Nick Cutter.
    She’d faced far worse than a man telling her no. No matter what his tone. She gave him a cool smile, even though she had a creepy sensation that those piercing blue eyes saw everything she was. And everything she wasn’t. “My brother made a foolish investment. Before he throws good money after bad, I want the money he gave you returned to the country.”
    Nick Cutter leaned his hip against the back of a white canvas sofa. His eyes moved over her, a bland inspection that gave nothing of what he was thinking away. “You’re the king’s business partner?”
    Not partner, nor confidante. Barely even sister, as distant as she felt from him. Her cousin, Antonio, had had to tell her of Draven’s latest foolishness. “My brother made an error in judgment,” was all she said. One of many since he’d ascended to the Marrezo throne two years ago.
    Bria ignored the familiar fluttery sensation of panic in her stomach. How she felt about her brother’s lack of financial sense was none of Nick Cutter’s business. “I’ve come to rectify his lapse.”
    “Have you, indeed?” He pushed off the sofa back, one dark brow arched. “Let’s