Page 30 of On The Beach

"Christ." Mick ran a hand over his face. "Why do you have to work so much?"

"My work is important."

"It's just making money. How much do you need?" There was judgment in his tone, and I didn't like it.

"Everyone has bills to pay, Mick," I protested. "Plus, I lovemy job…I like what I do. I make a difference in the lives of people. I'm helping to cure diseases."

"Really?" he challenged. "How many diseases have you cured?"

"That's not fair." I shook my head. "Gene therapy takes time. Clinical trials, precision targeting, working with patient safety in mind…all of it adds up."

"But how many, Belle?"

I took a breath. "Not cured, exactly, but I've developed therapies that mitigate, or slow the progression of, two different diseases."

He raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been doing this?"

"A decade," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. I was thirty, and I'd started research at twenty, fresh out of my master's program. I'd always been thesmarty pants, the youngest researcher in my field, eager to change the world.

"So, ten years andtwodiseases?" he asked dismissively.

"Well…yes. But the specifics are complex." I felt flustered and annoyed with him. "Right now, we're focused on one disease for clinical trials: gene therapy for Sanfilippo Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder. In preclinical stages, we've successfully slowed its progression by inserting a corrective gene, but the approval process feels like it takes an eternity." I let out a breath, knowing how technical it sounded. "It's not a cure, exactly, but it could give these kids a better chance—a longer life."

"So, you're curing fuck all," Mick threw back at me.

"Hey, I?—"

"Ten years and how many vacations?" He was angry now.

"You know what, Mick, I don't need your judgment, okay?" I rose, and he tugged me down.

"Sit down and finish your fuckin' drink." He pushed my cocktail closer. "And enjoy your time off. Youwork all the time; at least take a break without feeling guilty. I hate this shit you corporate types put yourself through. You work damn hard for very little in return, Belle; live a little, will you before you burn the fuck out?Please."

I softened. "I know it doesn't sound like we do much, but if I can buy patients precious time, maybe even a chance at a longer future, what I do is worth it." I sipped my drink. "But you're right. I should also learn how to have fun."

"Good," he grumbled.

"So, any suggestions on how I can have fun?" I teased.

How could this man I'd met only days ago see so clearly what even I hadn't— that I was emotionally and mentally drained, teetering on the edge of burnout? My family, as close as we were, had missed the signs entirely. So had I, until I came to Reef Harbor.

"Yeah." He smiled at me, though his eyes remained narrow. He stroked a finger down my cheek. "I'm going to fuck your brains out."

The man certainly had a way with words!

CHAPTER 9

sabotaging from the bottom

MICK

There was usually an easy way to do things, and then there was the hard way.

The hard way, for me, would've been to ask Belle to stay on the island for a few more days because? Yeah, I had no good answer for that. The easy way was to physically prevent her from leaving, which did not involve kidnapping or tying her down to my bed, which I didn't have.

In my previous life, I never chose the easy way, but Mick Bottom, the beach bum, was all about theeasy.

Franco, Cato, and I drifted up to the dock like three stealthy idiots in a boat that sounded like a dying lawnmower powered it. I hadn't even been sure if RiRi's piece of crap would make it all the way to the mainland where our target, the ferry that would come over to take Belle away from Reef Harbor, was docked.

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