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“You know… I’m holding lessons on how to talk to women next to the bathroom in an hour if you’re interested. I recommend you come.”
He rolls his eyes and tucks his phone into his back pocket. “The point is, we’ve collectively decided you’re not a thief.” He looks toward Dante. “Unless Dante has found otherwise?”
Dante shakes his head. “No, we’re in agreement.”
Saint sucks in a deep breath. “Okay then, we’ve got some moving to do. We’re going to ditch this boat and take the skiff to shore. We need a smaller profile coming into the docks. I’ll have a car waiting for us by morning.”
“A skiff? As in a smaller boat? We’re in the middle of the ocean. I’m not riding in askiff. That’s how people die.”
“That’s how people survive, Cinderella. They adapt to new environments. If you’d like, maybe you can click your heels together three times and see if someone comes to help.”
“Wrong story, Wolfie. That’sWizard of Oz. Cinderella had a prince she was after… and a couple glass slippers. Got any of those?”
Something tells me he could find a couple if he wanted to, but I don’t press the issue. Right now, I’m panicking about what it means to be on a small motorboat with the waves that have been hitting us all day. Not only that, but I’m geeked out that the guys have all been ogling me half naked and I haven’t seen more than a bare chest. I think it’s time to change that. We could all use a little serotonin, right?
Luca steps forward, a scowl on his face that’s telling me he’s not in the same mental space. “Now is the time to tell us if you’re hiding anything.” He’s more anxious than Saint and Dante. I can tell in the way that he’s pacing the floor. If I were to guess, I’d say it’s because he has more emotions. He can’t disconnect like the other guys can. In this line of work, I can’t imagine that’s good. You can’t go out and kill a guy then come back and cry about it. I imagine you have to be tough. Yet, I could see how his ability to see when there’s something just beneath the surface comes in handy. And right now, he’s right on point.
I’m not sure what good it would do to let any of them know what’s going on. It has nothing to do with the bank, or Collins, or the crazy Brit. There’s a chance they’ll leave me alone sooner, I suppose, which might play into my favor. Then again, they might be quicker to dump me in the ocean too. I doubt they have the same blaze of glory, orgy fantasy I have planned just before my demise.
“Nothing,” I say, clearing my throat. “I told you what I know, and you’ve checked my history. Truthfully, if you have my Instagram, you have everything you need. I post on that thing like every twenty minutes.”
Dante smiles and holds his hand out toward Saint, wanting to see his phone. I’m assuming for the bikini pics, but Saint only lowers his brow.
“Grow the fuck up. Everybody up on deck and grab everything essential. We need to be on the skiff by dark.”
My stomach turns. “About that, are you sure there’s no way to ride this thing out until we’re closer to shore? Your girl here has a crippling, nonsensical fear of water and I’m pretty sure the blue stuff all around us, is in fact, aqua.”
Saint steps closer, his hot breath on my neck as his large body lowers. “You hate water, yet I can smell how wet you are from the other side of the room. Go with the flow Cinderella and I’ll dry you off.” He grins and leans back away from me, making his way to the hull of the boat.
And I in fact, may have just gotten over my fear of water.
Chapter Four
Dante
The look on Lucy’s face as Wolf lowers the skiff into the water says it all. Her face is pallid, and her shoulders are tight. She’s terrified. The water is choppy, I’d guess four-foot waves, and there’s a wind blowing in from the east that’s only going to make things worse.
Water laps with fight at the skiff and there’s not much time left. We need to move.
I reach out for her hand, resisting the aggressive way I’d pick her up if I weren’t trying to be kind. She’s taking enough shit from Wolf. She doesn’t need it from me too. Cold water splashes up onto my ankles as I wait for her to make the final jump.
“Move now, Cinderella!” Wolf growls. “You’re going to get us sucked under the current.”
I glance back at him with a look I know he doesn’t give a fuck about. He’s being harsher with her than he needs to be. She’s not some asshole criminal we’re trying to beat answers out of, she’s a young woman who’s terrified. We don’t need to make this harder.
“I’ve got you,” I say, gripping Lucy’s waist tight in my hand before lifting her off the boat and into the skiff. She comes easier this time, but her body is still stiff as though she’s trying to bottle up the last bits of courage she has.
“We’ll be in the boat for less than two hours,” I say, settling her onto the center bench of the small boat. Her body stays close to mine as the waves knock us back and forth.
“Two hours?You might as well throw me in the drink now. I won’t make it.”
“You’ll be okay.” I reach for a blanket from the bench in front of me. It’s rough, thin, and meant more for emergencies, but covering her shoulders seems to help with her shaking as Wolf steers us away from the yacht.
I’ve been in a skiff a hundred times, maybe more. Having grown up on an island off the coast of Italy, water was something that we got used to. But I’ve never seen someone drive it so manically. Every wave Wolf comes up on is like a challenge to go faster, harder, more intensely. Salt splashes up into our faces as I hold Lucy tight.
“Fucking hell,” I bark back to Saint. “Do you think you could slow down a bit?” He’s sped the boat up to its highest speed. Hell, part of me wonders if he installed a faster engine. I wouldn’t put it past him. The guy’s an adrenaline junky.
He shakes his head. “This isn’t a romance cruise. We’re trying to get the fuck out of here, remember?”
