Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
"Oh," he groans. "Delicious."
"Yup," I say, swallowing nervously. He can make eating remind me of sex. That is dangerous.
We stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, something electric passing between us. I can tell he's thinking about something, but before he can say anything, Trey clears his throat behind us.
"Is everything okay?" he asks, eyeing us both warily.
Marco nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just needed a break."
Trey nods, but I can tell that he's not convinced. "Well, we should probably get back to it. We've got a lot of work to do if we're going to figure this out."
Marco grimaces, but nods. "You're right. Let's go."
He turns to me, his eyes softening. "I'll see you later, okay?"
I nod, my heart racing. "Yeah, okay."
As they walk away, I can feel Trey's eyes on me. Ignoring him, I return to my food. If I can't let out my frustration on Marco's body I'll satisfy my other cravings. With a plate so heavy the chef's are giving me dubious stares, I sit down at a table by the window. The ocean outside is calm. The sun is on its way to the horizon.
"Can I get you a drink, miss?" A young, beautiful woman with an intoxicating Italian accent offers me a glass of red wine.
"Thanks," I say, taking it. I'm not a wine person, but one sip of whatever this is could convert me.
It's fruity, with a hint of spice. "This is amazing. What kind of wine is it?"
She smiles. "It's a Amarone. Do you like?"
I nod, impressed. "It's delicious. Thank you."
She nods, her smile widening. "You're welcome. Is there anything else I can get for you?"
I glance down at my plate, still piled high with food. "Will there be a dessert buffet section?"
"Of course." She gestures at a station being setup. It reminds me that I'm early, not a proper guest on a charter list who had to pay gobs of cash to be here. But everyone thinks I must be important or else they would be ignoring me.
Once alone with my meal, I eat happily, but the carbs and fats don't distract me for long. I'm still thinking about Marco, and the way his lips felt on my fingertips. I can feel the heat between my legs, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I know he’s doing important business up there, but I can’t help missing him. Our bed is sitting unused, and I haven’t felt his hands on me since this morning.
I don’t want to be a distraction but I do want us to be able to enjoy this cruise as much as possible. And I doubt he’ll be up for anything…extra curricular if he’s in a bad mood.I really hope his meeting finishes on a high note. That seems impossible, though.
I finish my meal and sip my wine while watching the sunset. The sky darkens, and I realize I've been sitting here for a while. I decide to stretch my legs and explore the ship a bit more before returning to my room.
As I walk down the corridor, I hear voices coming from an open window on the lower deck. They sound familiar, so I pause outside to listen.
"...told you, we can't keep doing this. It's too risky," Nathan's voice says.
"I know that, but we need to act fast if we want to get out of this mess," Marco replies.
My heart rate accelerates when I I realize they're talking about something serious. I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but I can't help it.
"What if we just cut our losses and move on?" Trey suggests. "We'll still have enough to live comfortably for the rest of our lives."
"No," Marco says firmly. "We'll find a way to make Derek come to his senses. He can't be the one who takes over. We all agree, right?"
I hear nothing––I wonder if they're all nodding. Derek is really not popular. Craning my neck, I strain to hear more. A hand closes on my wrist, wrenching me backwards.
It's Derek.
"Huh, didn't know our ship had little mice on board," he chuckles darkly. "I'll have to call an exterminator."
I rip out of his grip. He smiles down at me, then looks past me to the window. He says, "They're talking about me, aren't they?"
"No."
He snorts, not convinced by my lie. "It's fine. I expected they would. When you're the villain in everyone's story you know it. I'm not an idiot."
Scanning him curiously, I rub my wrist where he gripped me. My skin hurts. Yeah, he is a villain, he's right about that. But... "Why do your brothers dislike you?"
"They don't dislike me. They hate me."
"Okay, but why? They seem certain that you're the worst pick to run their business."
He laughs--loud enough that his brothers will hear. He's doing it on purpose. "Come out, boys. Tell me to my face what you're plotting."