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She snorted silently as she peeked a look at his hard profile.
What a fool she had been. Naive, impossibly innocent, incredibly foolish. And she still hadn’t learned her lesson, not all the way to the soul. Because a part of her had never forgotten that one night.
That sultry summer night when he had taken her with singular determination and fiery lust. When he had taught her the true depths of carnal pleasure and the ultimate despair.
“This isn’t going to work. ” The words tore from her lips as he pulled into the small marina his uncle Ray Mackay owned.
She could feel the panic building in her chest now, the certainty that the Nauti Dawg was going to hold more memories and more heartache than she could bear.
“I can’t do this. ” She was shaking as Dawg pulled the truck into the private parking slot in front of the marina.
He turned off the motor. Pulling the key from the ignition, he turned and stared at her silently.
Him or jail. She could see it in his expression.
Crista shook her head slowly before swallowing tightly.
“I’m not one of the Nauti Boys’ whores,” she whispered harshly. “I can’t play one to stay out of jail, Dawg. I’d rather rot in prison than buy my freedom at the expense of my soul. ”
He stared back at her, his light green eyes icy, unemotional, as he watched her. His expression was as dark as the shadows around them and as still as death.
This wasn’t the man she had known eight years ago. Charming, though brooding, James “Dawg”
Mackay had had a will of iron, but he hadn’t been cold. He’d been hard but not unemotional. Not as he was now.
He had joined the Marines just after she left town; she knew that. He’d spent one tour, when he had been shipped home because of a wound that shattered his kneecap. Not that she had seen any sign of an injury in the way he moved.
But right now, he was rubbing his knee almost absently as he watched her.
“We’ll talk about this on the boat,” he finally said warningly. “Not here. ”
“No, Dawg. ” She reached out, gripping his arm as he moved to open the door. “Not at the boat. I won’t go out to that boat, and I won’t spread myself for the Nauti Boys. I wouldn’t do it when I was too stupid to know any better, and I sure as hell won’t do it now. You’re fooling yourself if you think you can convince me to do otherwise. ”
“And if going to that boat didn’t mean spreading yourself for anyone but me, Crista?” he asked her. “Would you go then?”
THREE
Eight years ago, she had slipped from Dawg’s upper-deck bedroom and stolen from the Nauti Dawg like a thief in the early morning mists. But she had left something behind that morning, a part of herself she had never regained.
Now Crista stepped back through the reinforced French door that led into the living room and stilled herself against the memories that threatened to overwhelm her.
He still left a low light shining on the small table that sat beside the couch. It was a maroon plush couch now, where before it had been black leather. A matching recliner sat by the side of the same table.
The television was now mounted on the wall on the side they entered, and across the room on the opposite side sat a small dining table and four chairs.
A teak bar separated the dining area from the kitchen, two captain’s barstools placed under it.
The rug was a rich, thick forest green. Eight years ago it had been a dark tan. The living room and kitchen were more refined now, stating a mature taste in furnishings but still a broad male influence. Dark woods and few frills.
A picture of his Marine Corps unit sat on the table by the couch alongside a picture of the Nauti cousins in camouflage greens and a picture of Rowdy and his fiancée, Kelly Salyers.
There were no pictures or prints on the wall. There was nothing to decorate the rooms. Beyond the kitchen was another large bedroom and small washroom as well as an extra bathroom. From where Crista stood, she could also see the curving staircase that led to the upper deck and master bed and bath, as well as the steering controls.
She flinched as the door closed and locked behind her.
“I need a beer,” Dawg announced. “Want one?”
Crista shook her head as she gripped her purse and watched him move across the living room, then into the kitchen. He pulled a beer from the refrigerator before unscrewing the cap with a quick twist and tossing the cap beneath the bar, where the garbage can must have been hidden.
