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She took a breath to calm her rattled nerves and opened the door.
It wasn't housekeeping. Not unless Paradise Resort had hired male centerfolds as maids these days. This guy looked more like a surfer.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
His smile showed white, even teeth made brighter by a tanned, chiseled face. He appeared kissed by the sun. His light brown hair was tipped with blond highlights and golden flecks danced in his green eyes.
Wow.
"Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Dax."
Warily, she shook his hand. "Isabelle King. Again, can I help you with something?"
That half-smile he gave her was sexy as all get out. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm staying in the bungalow next to yours and thought since we were gonna be neighbors, I'd be neighborly."
Isabelle swallowed, wishing she had a handy glass of water to quench her suddenly dry throat. "I was told I'd be alone on this side of the island."
He shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning against her doorway. "I just checked in a few minutes ago. Kind of an impromptu visit. I won't bother you. You working here or something?"
"How would you know that?" Suspicion crept into her thoughts.
Inclining his head toward her discarded dive gear, he grinned. "Looks like official stuff there. Besides, it says Oceanic Institute on your bag. Figure you're a marine biologist or something along those lines."
"Oh. Yes, that's right." He didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. Her telephone rang and she excused herself to run and answer it, determined to dial up the hotel immediately and confirm this stranger's appearance.
She didn't have to, since it was Morgan on the phone, telling her she'd had an unscheduled guest show up not more than a half hour ago, and he'd be occupying the bungalow next to hers.
At least she now knew he wasn't some escaped psychopath. She hung up the phone and went back to the door. He still leaned against her doorway with his arms crossed, his emerald eyes watching her.
Despite wanting to shut the door in his face and not deal with him, she hadn't been brought up to be rude. She motioned him inside and shut the door.
"You have a last name, Dax?"
He paused for a second, then grinned and said, "Seagrove."
The name didn't ring a bell, but somehow he seemed familiar to her. Maybe everything about her stay on the island here was some kind of weird deja vu experience. "I was about to have some iced tea. Would you like a glass?"
"Sure, thanks."
She poured him a glass and they stepped out back onto a covered porch.
"What brings you to the island?" she asked, hoping he wasn't there to indulge in some wild orgies. Not that she'd object to him having them, of course. It was simply the thought of all that noise bothering her when she was trying to work.
"I'm here on a hunt." He stretched his long legs out and Isabelle admired the view. He was tall, probably more than six feet. He didn't have an overly muscular body. Rather, he was lean and in good shape. Nice muscles. Six pack abs.
He also sported a very interesting tattoo of a symbol and a dolphin on his left bicep. "That's the Greek symbol for Delta on your arm."
"Yeah, it is."
"Curious. Why that symbol for a tattoo?"
He shrugged. "I studied ancient Greek. Learned the letters. I liked this one."
"I see."
He crossed his arms and his biceps bulged nicely. Not overly large like those sweaty guys at her gym who grunted and groaned trying to build huge muscles. Just nice and strong with defined muscles that made her mouth water. Damn he was good looking.
Then what he'd said earlier finally registered. "A hunt? What kind of hunt?"
"Well, typically I do wreck diving. You never know what kind of buried treasure you're going to find at the bottom of the ocean," he replied with a wink.
Wreck diving? Buried treasure?
Oh, hell. Dax was a treasure hunter.
Chapter Three
"You're a scavenger." Isabelle didn't even try to keep the irritation out of her voice.
"I'm a businessman." Dax didn't seem offended in the least. In fact, he grinned.
"You're a thief. Removing things from the sea which should be left untouched. You're no better than a grave robber."
Was that admiration she saw in his eyes? Couldn't be, since she'd just insulted him.
"I didn't say I was going to remove anything. I'm just looking."
"For?"
"Sea turtles."
Now she didn't care if she insulted him outright or not. "Hunting sea turtles for profit is forbidden. They're endangered and protected by the laws here."
He held up his hands and laughed. "Calm down, Isabelle. I'm not out to harvest any. I've been hired to search for one of the more elusive species. My employer figured since I'd hunted down shipwrecks I should be able to find a sea turtle."
"What species?"
"It's special. Unique. Never been seen before, actually."
She sucked in a breath. Surely she and Dax couldn't be after the same thing. "You're talking about
something that's nothing more than a myth."
He nodded. "The Pegasus Turtle."
"It doesn't exist."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. There's no documented evidence of a turtle like that in existence. It's nothing more than myth and folklore." But she'd still searched for it. Every time she entered the water it was foremost on her mind.
"Many things exist but remain hidden from humans," Dax said.
Isabelle stood and stepped into the sand beyond the veranda, digging her toes into the hot granules. She turned to Dax, who smiled enigmatically at her. "You sound like you have some experience in that area."
"I might."
"You've seen one." She wasn't buying it.
"I might have."
"Where?"
"Not too far from here. Offshore a bit. It's been a couple years ago, though. Want me to help you locate it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I work alone."
"That's no fun. Let me help you. Two sets of eyes out in the water are better than one any day."
Suspicious by nature, Isabelle wondered if Dax had some ulterior motive in wanting to work with her. She crossed her arms and leaned against the porch wall. "Who's paying you to do this? Please tell me it isn't one of those millionaires who wants a one-of-a-kind trophy."
"Nah. Just an interested party. He wants pictures...proof. That's all."
She searched his face, but couldn't tell from his expression whether he was lying or not. Then again, there were habitual liars in the world who were expert at hiding their secrets. "I see."
"Good. So, do you want help with your search?" he asked again.
She had a feeling this would cost her. If he was even telling the truth. "And what do I have to pay you for helping me?"
"Nothing."
"Right. How much?"
"I told you," he said again, laughing, "nothing."
"What's in it for you?" Because no one did anything for free. There was always an angle, an ulterior motive. And Dax didn't look like a boy scout.
Dax shrugged. "A diving companion."
She threw him a dubious glare. "Really. Why am I having trouble believing all you want out of this is someone to dive alongside you? Is this a come on? If so, I'll give you credit for being original, but I'm not in the market for a man."
He arched a brow. "You don't like men?"
"Of course I do. I'm just not interested in having one right now."
