by Thorne, Elle
The Bella was one of her father’s mini-cruise luxury yachts, one of a fleet of twenty. The boats were chartered out for private or business trips, occasionally paying for itself with semi-public cruises like the one she was on today.
The Bella was one of her father’s yachts. Modern, elegant, and sleek, Bella offered all the amenities of a large cruise ship, but the guest list was kept below a hundred individuals and the price was kept well above typical cruises.
Sophie hadn’t been on Bella since she’d been put out for semi-public use. The vessel used to be their father’s favorite, named after her mother. Once their mother had decided she couldn’t live with Gio, Sophie’s father, he’d put the vessel into use by the public.
He’d said he would whore the ship out the way her mother whored herself out. Of course, he never said that where his children could hear, but Sophie had overheard him tell her Uncle Federico. She’d been furious with her father. She’d never told her siblings what she heard, though. She knew Rafe would lose it.
Sophie wasn’t sure what had happened between her father and her mother, although she did know her father had a terrible temper. She wasn’t going to take sides, even when her mother moved to Monaco, into one of Gio’s many residences.
Gio refused to visit her. She refused to leave. Neither of them would discuss it. No one else wanted to talk about it, either.
Sophie was sure of one thing— her mother didn’t step out on her father, and Gio was still in love with her.
What had created their problems?
Sophie walked past the reclining double lounge sunning chairs, past the pool, past the al fresco dining tables, all the way to the end of the bar. It was empty, but as soon as she sat down on the last stool, a bartender showed up.
“Your pleasure?”
She ordered a virgin White Russian because it was better than ordering soda with a twist of lemon. That usually garnered dirty looks from bartenders who were in it for the tips, after all, and they measured tips by the total of the bill. “No vodka, chocolate syrup instead of the Kahlua, please.”
She was still livid from finding that electronic device in her purse the other day. It was wrapped in a crumpled up, used gum wrapper, and would have resembled any other piece of trash a woman would find in her purse.
Except Sophie didn’t chew gum. Ever.
She’d let the stupid GPS locator sit in her purse, letting her family track her movements, because she knew it was Vax or Rafe. She’d let them think they had her.
Until today.
Sophie bit back the smile of victory wanting to plaster itself on her face. She’d gotten the last laugh. On the way to the docks, she’d left her purse in the trash receptacle outside the hotel. That would teach her interfering brothers, wouldn’t it?
She gazed at the view, at the bustling pier, the smoke rising from diesel engines; listened to the loud, raucous calls of sailors on other boats and the even louder and more raucous calls of seagulls begging for morsels of bread.
The bartender put a drink down for her. She gave him her room card. He swiped it, then returned it and vanished in the back.
Sophie took a sip of the creamy concoction and glanced at the time on her phone. They’d be on their way in less than fifteen minutes. Unless something major happened.
I need to quit thinking negative thoughts. Nothing major will happen. I’ll get my time away. My anonymity. And my planning sessions.
She glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye and looked toward it.
The man.
The man on the phone.
He was walking her way. She glanced around to see if there was anyone else here, someone he’d be meeting.
No one.
Maybe he just wants a drink. That’s not so unusual.
Her tigress snarled.
Sophie agreed with the tigress. He was sexy.
There was something familiar about the man, though. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe she’d met him before?
* * *
Niko had given the attendant with the clipboard the name Rafe had told him to use.
“Nikolaos Andreakis.”
That was the name Rafe had said he’d set him up with. Rafe had said Nikolaos was an old childhood friend of his from boarding school and a real person, in case anyone asked questions.
“Welcome, Mr. Andreakis.” The attendant had handed him a magnetic strip card and his cabin number. He hadn’t flashed Niko the same smile Sophie had merited, nor had he given him any extra attention.
“Hey, have someone take this to my cabin if you don’t mind.” Niko had pointed to the suitcase he’d let another attendant tote up the ramp because he had to play the role of some rich guy.
“Hope this doesn’t mean I have to let anyone wipe my ass,” he’d muttered under his breath, feeling odd about allowing others to do work he was more than capable of handling.
“What’s that, sir?” the guy with the clipboard asked.
“Nothing. Just saying this will be a great trip.”
“Yes, Mr. Andreakis.” He’d already turned his attention to the next guest coming his way, who, not surprisingly, was female.
Niko kept his eye on the platinum blonde hottie who had given him the slip already once today. She was weaving her way across the vessel, turning heads.
She damned near gave me a heart attack when she pulled that vanishing stunt at the dress shop.
Not the kind of heart attack he’d want her giving him.
His panther made an approving snarl.
Finally. Something they agreed on.
She made her way across the deck. The matronly garb she’d bought at the women’s clothing shop had apparently been discarded, for which Niko said a prayer of thanks. She was spectacular in a tight-fitting fabric that clung to every curve, accentuating her ass.
Oh, yeah, he was definitely an ass man.
The dress was floor-length, but strapless. Three large chevron stripes of green and navy met at the exact center of her ample cleavage—he’d noticed that earlier. But now, his only view was her ass and hips, an ass that made him think of a luscious apple he wanted to take a bite of and a set of hips he could hold on to while he pounded away at the treasure she kept so demurely covered under that gown.
Oh, hell.
He adjusted his pants without missing a stride as he followed her to the open-air bar. She’d ordered a drink and had taken a dainty sip of it already.
Interesting choice, considering it wouldn’t affect her.
Sexual energy took hold of his panther, and he began to pace in Niko’s mind. His panther was very interested in her tigress.
No, Niko cautioned him. You need to chill. Keep a low profile. Hunter’s block or not, I don’t need you arousing the suspicions of her tigress. I’m not a shifter here. I’m a plain old, boring businessman who’s here to…
To what?
I’m here to recuperate from a nasty divorce. Taking some time.
No, that’s stupid.
I need to be a widower. That’ll get me more sympathy and make me seem less threatening.
Niko took a seat on the bar stool farthest from Sophie so he wouldn’t seem eager to be around her.
The bartender was psychic, evidently, as Niko’s butt hadn’t touched the leather seat before he appeared.
“What’s your poison?” the bartender asked.
“Whatever’s on draft.”
The guy pulled a perfect beer, just the right amount of head. What a waste, Niko thought, drinking alcohol that didn’t affect him.
The bartender took his card, swiped it, and said, “I’ll be right back there if you need anything.” He indicated a door and slipped through it.
Niko could feel her eyes on him. He’d noticed the closer he was to her, the more the sensation was like a thrumming of his nerves took hold of him.
His panther growled an explanation.
Niko frowned. This isn’t low key.
The panther backed down and slunk
off.
His panther’s attraction to her tigress was far too distracting. How was he supposed to keep an eye on her when his panther was behaving like this?
He realized he was frowning and tried for a more stoic face.
If I pretend I’m a widower, she might trust me more, but she’d never be able to think of me in the way I’d like her to.
Fuck.
Scratch the widower thing. He wouldn’t lie. He might be on the job, but, one day, the job would end, hopefully soon. And when it did, he’d like to see her again, in a very different capacity.
Hopefully, naked.
Totally naked and sprawled across his bed.
“Must be a good thought.” A voice pulled him back, one heavy with sexiness.
He glanced at Sophie. “Pardon?” He’d heard her, but he wasn’t sure what she was talking about.
“You went from a frown to something that almost appeared to be a smile.” Her lips curved into a smile of her own, revealing striking white teeth in a face that was a cross between a sex goddess and an angel.
How the hell did she pull that off? That look? A look that said she could be as sweet as he wanted, but as wicked as he needed.
Her eyes closed a little. Afloat in a sea of aquamarine, her black pupils dilated. He liked that. He inhaled deeply, scenting her, taking her aroma in deep, savoring it, trapping it in his lungs the way he’d like to trap her in his bed.
He let the air out slowly. “It was a good thought.”
Her tigress flashed in the depths of her eyes, a deep amber color that contrasted with the aquamarine. Her scent grew heavier.
She was interested in him.
It’s mutual, completely and totally fucking mutual.
Chapter Four
Jealousy flared in Sophie’s tigress at the smile that had come to the sexy man’s face, and she wondered what or whom he would have thought of that made had him smile like that.
Settle down. Geez, Sophie chastised her tigress.
She knew what the tigress was jealous about; she’d felt the same envy when she imagined he might be meeting someone special on the vessel.
She and her tigress had barely met the handsome stranger. It was too early to get jealous over a thought or a smile.
Her tigress snarled.
It doesn’t have to be a woman. It could have been a good business maneuver. Maybe the stocks in his portfolio went up.
But she did wonder what would put a random smile on this handsome stranger’s face. To make it worse, he hadn’t said a word about it. He’d just left her hanging without knowing.
She wanted to ask if it was a woman. She chanced a look at his hand. No wedding band.
“Why are you here?” she asked, not one to mince words.
“Why does anyone go on a cruise?” He took a drink of the beer. His throat worked as he swallowed, his head thrown back, the muscles in his neck pronounced. A small drop of beer escaped, making its way down past his lip, leaving a trail across the olive-skinned flesh of his jawline.
She watched the drop, mesmerized, and found herself wishing she could catch it with her tongue.
What the hell is wrong with me?
She wasn’t one to be struck by sudden attacks of libido. She didn’t go around wanting to lick random strangers.
Her tigress rumbled her dissatisfaction, still strongly attracted to the man.
Settle down. I came here to get away from drama, not embroil myself in more of it.
Her tigress roared so loudly she winced, wanting to cover her ears.
“Everyone has a different reason for going on a cruise. And you haven’t told me yours yet. And I’m wondering what made you smile.” She bit down on her lip so hard it hurt, forcing herself to shut up. Why did I say that? Why am I pursuing this?
“I didn’t?” He shrugged. “So I didn’t. I’m on a cruise because I wanted to get away. I’m smiling because I did get away.”
That was no answer. If anything, it made her even more curious. “To get away from what?” She stirred her drink with its little black cocktail straw. “Let me guess. You’re getting away from a woman.”
His smile was dangerously sexy, a little crooked, and revealed a tiny chip in one of his front teeth.
“No, not getting away from a woman. Just getting away.” There was that smile again. The sexy, slightly chipped tooth smile.
She fought back a sigh and, at the same time, completely understood why her tigress was interested in him. There was something about him.
“What’s your name?”
“Niko. Yours?”
* * *
Niko waited for Sophie to tell him her name. He knew she’d picked another name, but would she tell him, or would she lie?
His money was on her lying to him, but his ego wanted to say she’d tell him the truth and give him her real name.
She was definitely interested in him, and so was her tigress—if his panther’s instincts weren’t failing him. Niko didn’t think they were.
“Soleil. Soleil Templeton.”
She took a drink. The cream coated her upper lip, making him want to lick it clean, suck it into his own mouth, then violate and completely dominate her mouth with his tongue.
“Nice to meet you, Soleil Templeton.”
“How’d you chip your tooth?” She touched her own front tooth, her finger lingering in her mouth as her lips closed around it.
God. Damn. It.
Did she have any idea what this was doing to him?
He stared at her finger, mesmerized by all the dirty, nasty things it made him want to do with her.
She pulled her finger out, as if she’d suddenly realized what she’d done. “Your tooth? How did that happen?”
I was one of the lucky ones. Wrong place when an IED… No, he couldn’t tell her that. “Football. No mouth guard.” He shrugged.
He’d never played football in his life, but for the time being, at least, he didn’t want to give her any information about himself. He didn’t want to give her a greater hold on him than she already had.
He blamed his panther. They’d have it out, later—he and the panther. “What brings you on board?”
“I needed some alone time. To do some thinking and sorting.”
“Bad relationship?”
She grimaced. “Not the kind of relationship you’re thinking of.”
No harm in prying, Niko decided. “Guess you won’t expand on that?”
Her smile was wicked, but not the kind of wicked he’d like it to be. “Guess we have that in common. Neither of us is good at expanding on things.”
But she was remarkably good at making parts of him expand. “Do you have dinner plans?” Had he just asked her to dinner? When he’d just established he had to keep her hold on him at a minimum?
It’s for the job. Just keeping her safe, as I’m being paid to do. As if he believed it.
“No plans.” The depths of her eyes flashed gold deep within the blue.
He glanced down at his beer, hoping his panther wasn’t going to be foolish enough to rise to the invitation her tigress was issuing.
He knew how his panther felt. Hell, he agreed with the panther, wholly. But he had a job to do. He couldn’t let lust distract him, and he couldn’t be complacent with this woman around. She’d already proven that when she’d given him the slip.
* * *
Down, girl.
Sophie wasn’t sure if she was talking to her tigress or herself. The man had asked her to dinner. Her pulse had raced a little—okay, it had raced a lot. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been one-on-one with a guy, because family didn’t count, and Gavin’s security team didn’t count either.
She was always “little Sophie” to everyone she knew. The baby of the family, not given responsibility, not taken seriously. She was coddled, and, yeah, she’d admit to being a bit spoiled. But here was this man, sexier, larger than life, larger than most any man she’d ever met, except maybe her sister Lila’s mate,
Cy.
And this man was interested in her. Sophie wasn’t all that young, but you’d have thought she was still a teenager from the way her family treated her.
She was surprised Vax and Rafe didn’t have someone spying on her or had hidden another tracking device in her things. She’d checked. She hadn’t found anything, but to be extra sure, she’d bought herself brand-new everything. She’d even left her phone behind. She’d picked up a disposable phone, though. Just in case.
She thought about the man who’d been at the kafeneío, the one who’d reminded her of a sheik or an Arab prince from a romance novel. Surely, he wasn’t following her because of her brothers. None of Gavin’s men looked like him. She’d have known. That man had oozed sexiness the way a tree oozed sap.
Why did she suddenly have an image of honey dripping down his tanned skin and licking it off?
This man, Niko, he was equally sexy. No, he was probably sexier. Should she have dinner with him? She had a lot on her mind, and the cruise was only seven days long. Did she want to give up her evening for some light flirtation with a sexy stranger?
Her tigress waited patiently for Sophie to finish her thinking, not jumping in, not influencing her.
The moment Sophie determined she should pass on dinner, her tigress lost control and roared, thundering in her mind about declining the invitation.
Sophie gripped the table’s edge against the raging storm of her tigress’s irritation.
“Sure. Dinner sounds fine,” she surrendered, smiling at the sex on a stick sitting at the other end of the bar.
“What cabin are you in? I’ll pick you up.” His brownish-gold eyes glinted in the afternoon sun. His aquiline nose contributed to a profile that took her breath away. She’d seen a statue of a Greek god once at a museum, and she’d decided it was the epitome of perfection. This man had the same profile. It was as if his face had been used as the mold to create that statue, long ago.
“A-6.”
“Eight o’clock sound good?”
And with that, Sophie’s tigress got her way.