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Chapter Eight
Zane had definitely needed a shower after the dirty talk session, not just because his dick had been sticky from leftover barbecue sauce but because the words he’d spewed from his mouth all over Cammie had been down right filthy. He’d never uttered such nasty things in the presence of a woman before, or, for that matter, uttered them at all.
Considering how reluctant she’d been to do the session in the first place, Cammie had really gotten into it. She’d been so into it that they’d been seconds away from public sex, like, Cammie had been in the process of straddling him with a devious gleam in her eyes, when Dr. Rose had announced that they’d passed with flying colors, because, apparently, she’d been grading them. Then they’d been told to get out the hell out of the cubby so it could be cleaned before the next session started, which had sobered up their lust-clouded brains pretty quickly.
Cammie had decided to go to her room so she could shower and get ready for dinner. Formal dinner this time, because Zane had a lead on another one of their targets. Which, of course, reminded him that he’d done very little work of his own in the last twenty-four hours.
Before squeezing himself into his dinner suit, he decided to take a few minutes to try to make some progress in his case. He added notes about Bill Haversmith’s appearance, estimated height, weight that kind of thing. The guy was slimy as fuck, but other than the reoccurring trips on Dark Matter cruises, there wasn’t anything else pointing to Bill’s involvement with the missing money. Since the man clearly had more money than he had use for—tossing Cammie five thousand dollars like it was nothing—it didn’t make a whole lot of sense that he would be caught up in some kind of stealing scheme on board a ship, anyway. Unless the missing money was just sloppy counting or someone skimming off the top, that came from some other kind of business…like laundering.
If laundering was the game in play, Zane would look squarely at Captain Evans, since he’d boasted about knowing everything that happened on board his ship, working with Bill Haversmith in some way. It was possible that Captain Evans was moving money for Haversmith, having it cleaned through the casino, maybe. Zane had theories but no evidence or proof, so he really needed to get digging, because there were only a few days left of the cruise.
Much to Zane’s surprise, while playing with Cammie in the dirty-talk session, Zane had realized another way to track money through the cruise line. He quickly built another algorithm. The casino seemed like the fastest way to clean money, but there was another way that would yield opportunities to skim off the top, and it could help them narrow down finding their missing man.
Checking the time, he finished typing the code then quickly put his suit on. He’d never owned anything super formal, so he’d only brought one pair of black slacks, a button-up turquoise shirt and a dinner jacket. He didn’t think he’d need a tux but also wasn’t sure if his attire was formal enough. Nothing he could do about it, though. Cammie would likely be dressed to kill, so she’d more than make up for his lack of style.
He checked his computer one more time, making sure things were running as they were supposed to before leaving. He was on his way to meet Cammie at her cabin, but as the elevator doors binged open, she was right there in front of him, and she looked stunning.
“Hi,” she said, her dimples popping and eyes sparkling. “I thought I’d meet you halfway.”
“You look amazing,” Zane said. And she did. Oh, fuck, she did.
She was wearing a slinky black dress that hugged every one of her curves just like he wanted to. There was a long slit up each side so that he could see her upper thighs and a very low dipping front that showcased her beautiful cleavage.
“Thanks,” she said with a giggle before doing a little twirl. “I wasn’t sure how formal a formal dinner is on a cruise, so I thought I’d play it safe with my little black dress.”
Zane stepped into the elevator with her, his hand on her lower back. “There’s nothing safe about that dress.” He leaned down to kiss just below her earlobe then did it again when she shivered.
They stepped off the elevator together and didn’t get more than a few feet toward the restaurant when the booming voice of Bill Haversmith assaulted them.
“Look who it is!” Bill beelined right for them, his face a glossy shade of red. “My good friends Cammie and…er…what did you say your name was, fella?” Bill had already wrapped his arm around Cammie’s shoulder.
“Zane Roberts.”
“So it is, Zane…right, right.” Bill began to walk, with Cammie trapped under his arm, toward some sort of greeting line. “I want to introduce you to the captain. Captain Evans—”
In an expert maneuver, Cammie dipped then shifted, extracting herself from Bill’s grasp just in time to come face-to-face with Captain Evans.
“Hello, Captain,” Cammie said, her voice as cool and smooth as ice. “Nice to see you again.”
“And you, Miss Sheppard. I trust you’re feeling well.” If Captain Evans was surprised to see Zane and Cammie with Bill Haversmith, he didn’t show it. “Zane.” He nodded toward Zane as if to say, ‘glad to see you’re sticking with Cammie’.
“Evans, I didn’t realize you’d already met this beauty.” Bill, just seeming to realize that Cammie was no longer under his arm, looked slightly bewildered to find her holding hands with Zane instead. The man was definitely not sober.
“Oh, yes, we’ve met.” Captain Evans didn’t elaborate, and Zane could tell that Cammie was on the verge of sniping something but somehow managed to hold herself back. He didn’t blame her for being pissed at the captain, considering he’d all but called her a lunatic. “Bill, will you be joining us at my table tonight?”
“Yes, indeed, sir!” Bill waved one of the servers over. “Please make sure there’s room at the captain’s table for my friends, Cammie and Zane.”
Captain Evans frowned. He opened his mouth like he was ready to argue Bill’s impromptu invite to his private table.
“No worries, Cap!” Bill draped his arm over Captain Evan’s shoulder then leaned in close. “We can always talk business another time.” It was clear he was attempting to keep his voice low, but his volume button was out of control.
“Captain Evans…” A server swept up with a beaming smile. “Your table is ready.”
And just like that, they were all ushered toward a private room at the back of the dining room, and Zane wasn’t sure if it was the best thing that could have happened for his investigation or the worst.
“Is this really happening?” Cammie whispered to him.
He didn’t get a chance to answer because it really was happening, and they were directed to seats near the head of the table, close to Bill and the captain. The table seated eight, and as more people filed into the room, clearly the upper echelon of the cruise, Cammie looked at him with wide eyes and clear confusion.
