armed
with something more than pepperoni.”
“I’m fine solo.”
“Sure you are, but wouldn’t it be nice to know someone had your back?”
She let out a soft breath and felt her stomach twist. “More than anything in the world,”
she admitted. “But it’s more than that, James. You want to change me. Dominate me.
Run my life.”
“ What? ” He looked around them and then hissed back, “I don’t want to change you, damn it.
I don’t want to dominate you, or tell you how to run your life.”
“So you’re saying you love all my parts?”
“Every goddamn one,” he said fervently. “And trust me, I need all those parts, El.
So let’s get out of here—”
“Even this one?” she asked, gesturing around her. “The part where this is my job?
You love that?”
“Look, all I want is for you to live long enough to love me back—” His head came up
at some sound that she didn’t hear, or maybe it was just his sharp instincts.
“What?” she whispered.
“We’re going to have to discuss this somewhere else, say far away from the three guys
downstairs divvying up their drugs, armed to the teeth.”
“There’s drugs?” Her proof! “Where—” But she broke off because someone was coming into the galley behind them.
She froze.
James drew his gun and jerked his head toward the door from which he came. He wanted
her to get out, and she knew he’d stand there in the open, covering her, until she
did.
But no way was he going to risk himself for her. She shook her head and dropped down
behind one of the couches.
James didn’t make a sound as he shot her a look filled with sick dread and fear, for her , then backed out the door from which he’d come just as someone opened the door from
the galley.
She ducked low, her heart going high. James loved her. He’d never stopped loving her.
And he needed her. Her . The woman she was. God, she’d been so stupid, chasing after all this adrenaline
within her job when everything she’d ever wanted had been right there in front of
her.
From her perch behind the couch she couldn’t see him, couldn’t do anything but wait
and hope and pray she hadn’t just given them both a death sentence.
A man entered the room, and another behind him, both in nothing but swim trunks, their
hair still wet. Ella recognized the voices as the men who’d been speaking belowdecks.
The divers.
“We should get a move on,” the first one said. He was in his thirties, built like
a heavyweight boxer, with tattoos covering most of his upper body. “Our flight’s in
a few hours.”
“No rush now that our resident insurance investigator slash pain in the ass is detained.”
This guy was thin and lanky, with no tattoos, just plenty of scars, and a chuckle
that gave Ella a shiver. “Lou and Raul said they handcuffed her nosy, naked ass to
her towel rack. I can’t believe they didn’t take pictures of her, man. She’s still
there, you know. Maybe we should go see her for ourselves.”
Ella fisted her hands. James had in all likelihood saved her life.
“Raul said she squirmed a lot.” Tattoo Guy let out a lecherous grin of his own. “He
kept getting handfuls. Damn, we should have been the ones to catch her.”
Fully creeped out, Ella huddled behind the couch, her finger on the Mace trigger.
“Got the shit?” Tattoo Guy asked.
“Oh, yeah, and it’s pure, baby.”
Ella felt the couch shift as both men sat on it. It was a low back, thick-cushioned
leather number, and though she flattened herself to the floor, if either one so much
as craned his head an inch to either side, he’d see her.
Her eyes searched frantically for a way out. There was an end table to her right,
a glass and chrome deal that had some fancy steel sculpture displayed. The sculpture
was about a foot high and looked like a wire cage, though she knew better and figured
it was another ridiculously priced piece of art.
The thin thug
with something more than pepperoni.”
“I’m fine solo.”
“Sure you are, but wouldn’t it be nice to know someone had your back?”
She let out a soft breath and felt her stomach twist. “More than anything in the world,”
she admitted. “But it’s more than that, James. You want to change me. Dominate me.
Run my life.”
“ What? ” He looked around them and then hissed back, “I don’t want to change you, damn it.
I don’t want to dominate you, or tell you how to run your life.”
“So you’re saying you love all my parts?”
“Every goddamn one,” he said fervently. “And trust me, I need all those parts, El.
So let’s get out of here—”
“Even this one?” she asked, gesturing around her. “The part where this is my job?
You love that?”
“Look, all I want is for you to live long enough to love me back—” His head came up
at some sound that she didn’t hear, or maybe it was just his sharp instincts.
“What?” she whispered.
“We’re going to have to discuss this somewhere else, say far away from the three guys
downstairs divvying up their drugs, armed to the teeth.”
“There’s drugs?” Her proof! “Where—” But she broke off because someone was coming into the galley behind them.
She froze.
James drew his gun and jerked his head toward the door from which he came. He wanted
her to get out, and she knew he’d stand there in the open, covering her, until she
did.
But no way was he going to risk himself for her. She shook her head and dropped down
behind one of the couches.
James didn’t make a sound as he shot her a look filled with sick dread and fear, for her , then backed out the door from which he’d come just as someone opened the door from
the galley.
She ducked low, her heart going high. James loved her. He’d never stopped loving her.
And he needed her. Her . The woman she was. God, she’d been so stupid, chasing after all this adrenaline
within her job when everything she’d ever wanted had been right there in front of
her.
From her perch behind the couch she couldn’t see him, couldn’t do anything but wait
and hope and pray she hadn’t just given them both a death sentence.
A man entered the room, and another behind him, both in nothing but swim trunks, their
hair still wet. Ella recognized the voices as the men who’d been speaking belowdecks.
The divers.
“We should get a move on,” the first one said. He was in his thirties, built like
a heavyweight boxer, with tattoos covering most of his upper body. “Our flight’s in
a few hours.”
“No rush now that our resident insurance investigator slash pain in the ass is detained.”
This guy was thin and lanky, with no tattoos, just plenty of scars, and a chuckle
that gave Ella a shiver. “Lou and Raul said they handcuffed her nosy, naked ass to
her towel rack. I can’t believe they didn’t take pictures of her, man. She’s still
there, you know. Maybe we should go see her for ourselves.”
Ella fisted her hands. James had in all likelihood saved her life.
“Raul said she squirmed a lot.” Tattoo Guy let out a lecherous grin of his own. “He
kept getting handfuls. Damn, we should have been the ones to catch her.”
Fully creeped out, Ella huddled behind the couch, her finger on the Mace trigger.
“Got the shit?” Tattoo Guy asked.
“Oh, yeah, and it’s pure, baby.”
Ella felt the couch shift as both men sat on it. It was a low back, thick-cushioned
leather number, and though she flattened herself to the floor, if either one so much
as craned his head an inch to either side, he’d see her.
Her eyes searched frantically for a way out. There was an end table to her right,
a glass and chrome deal that had some fancy steel sculpture displayed. The sculpture
was about a foot high and looked like a wire cage, though she knew better and figured
it was another ridiculously priced piece of art.
The thin thug
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