The Collector 4: Eight Arms to Hold You

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The Collector 4: Eight Arms to Hold You Page 8

by Ally Blue

“I won’t.” Austin gave her his biggest, brightest smile, just to watch her scowl deepen. “Thanks. Have a nice day.”

  Jones stared at him like he’d just sprouted an extra head, then turned back to her filing. Biting back the nervous laughter that wanted to bubble up, Austin picked up his duffle bag and went out into the winter morning.

  Passing several berths still undergoing repair, Austin found berth ten and headed down the pier to El Cazador’s tender. When he got a good look at it, he let out a low whistle.

  “That’s not a tender,” he muttered. “That’s a damn yacht.”

  The impression didn’t end when he showed his I.D. badge to the sharp-eyed security guard and stepped on board. The deck and bulwarks were rich, reddish wood. Polished brass fittings graced the hatches. Astern, Austin saw a rack of SCUBA tanks next to the top of a ladder that must lead to a diving platform. Everything looked expensive and well cared for.

  A wiry white-haired man in a dark blue wool sweater and jeans led Austin to the forward cabin. Inside, Mr. Smith sat behind a plain wooden desk. He stood and came forward when Austin entered.

  “Bell,” the man said, shaking the hand Austin offered. “Sit down. I’ll go over your duties with you on the way out to El Cazador. When we get there, I’ll show you to your cabin and let you get settled. Dinner’s at eighteen hundred sharp. You’ll meet Señor Cordova then, so be on time. Any questions?”

  “No, sir.” Austin grinned, letting both his nervousness and his excitement show through. “I’m looking forward to getting started, and to meeting Señor Cordova and his ... his crew.”

  Austin tensed, hoping Mr. Smith wouldn’t notice what he’d almost said. You’re not supposed to know Luke even exists, he reprimanded himself, watching Smith’s face.

  Luckily, the man didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “Good. When you’re dealing with the boss, be on time, be respectful, and keep your mouth shut unless you have a very good reason to talk, and you’ll be fine.”

  Austin let out a shaky laugh. “You’re making him sound a little scary.”

  “He is.” Moving back behind the desk, Smith sat down and gestured toward the chair across from him. “Sit down, shut up and pay attention. We have a lot to go over.”

  Austin was happy enough to have something else to think of. The prospect of seeing Luke again threatened to take over his brain. Placing his duffle bag on the floor, he sat in the chair Smith indicated and prepared to listen.

  * * * * *

  By the time the tender pulled up alongside El Cazador, Austin had taken three pages of notes in the handbook Mr. Smith gave him and was feeling the effects of information overload. If he hadn’t heard it all for himself, he would’ve sworn Smith was incapable of talking for that long without stopping. Luckily, none of it was terribly difficult. Most of his new job seemed to involve basic underwater salvage, which was fine with him. The more time he spent at depth, the better chance he had of finding the idol.

  Provided, of course, he could talk to Luke regularly enough to gain information on where to look. There was even the chance that Luke might be his dive partner, at least on occasion. From what Dr. Martin had told him, Luke was kept a virtual prisoner on land, but was generally given his freedom while at sea. It made sense. After all, Austin figured, where would Luke go when they were thirty miles from land? He was as dependent on the ship and the dive equipment as the rest of them.

  Once they boarded El Cazador, Austin discovered that the imposing vessel was even more richly outfitted than the tender. On the way to the lower decks where the crew cabins lay, Mr. Smith led Austin through upper decks that looked more like a five-star hotel than a working retrieval vessel. Plush carpet, fine furnishings and original artwork decorated the public rooms and unusually wide passageways. Austin stared with wide eyes and open mouth. He’d never seen such luxury on a working vessel before.

  “Señor Cordova likes the finer things in life,” Smith said, as if in answer to Austin’s unspoken thoughts. He led Austin down a wide, curving stairway and a short passageway that opened up into a large recreation area. “This is the commons area for the crew. You got pool, darts, TV and DVD player, and a small library. Cabins are down the passageway on the other side.”

  Austin nodded nervously at a hard-looking man and woman playing a card game at a small table. “Cool.”

  “There’s not a lot of down time, but when you’re off your time’s your own.” Stepping through the hatch on the far side of the room, Smith led the way down a utilitarian hallway that looked more like what Austin was used to in a ship. “Your cabin’s third on the left. It’s not the Ritz, but you get a bunk to yourself and a private head. You do your own cleaning.”

  Austin blinked, surprised. “Wow. I’ve never been on a ship where I didn’t have to share a cabin.”

  “Señor Cordova can afford it, believe me.” Smith opened the third door on the left, revealing a small but pristine room. “Here you go, Bell. Home sweet home. Get your things put away, then come on out to the commons and I’ll introduce you around.”

  “Yes sir.” Austin smiled. “Thank you.”

  Smith grunted and left the room. Austin chuckled as he unzipped his duffle bag and started unpacking. When he first met Mr. Smith, he never would’ve guessed the man could be at all pleasant. He wasn’t someone Austin wanted to spend his free time with, but as a supervisor, he was excellent. At least Smith knew his job, knew Austin’s job, and was quite thorough at explaining it. Austin had sure as hell worked for worse.

  If only Carson Cordova was as reasonable. Austin didn’t hold out much hope for that.

  * * * * *

  Meeting the rest of the dive team, learning the layout of the ship and getting familiar with the equipment he’d have to use took up most of Austin’s afternoon. His fellow divers were a more diverse lot than he’d expected. Six of the ten-member team were men, four were women. They represented five different nationalities and ranged in age from nineteen to sixty. A tendency toward suspicion and an ability to keep their mouths shut seemed to be the only common denominators.

  Probably why they were hired, Austin thought as he headed back to his cabin to change for dinner. Good thing I have the sort of experience they need, or I wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t have the chance to help Luke. Maybe wouldn’t ever see him again.

  The thought made Austin’s stomach roll unpleasantly. He reminded himself that with any luck, he would see Luke in less than thirty minutes, and the sick feeling faded into a fluttering desire.

  “Stop it,” he ordered, frowning at his swelling crotch. “Maybe later.”

  Maybe, if he could get Luke alone, just for a few minutes, run his fingers through that soft, pale hair and kiss those beautiful lips, feel Luke’s hardness in his palm and hear those low, sweet moans agai ... “Stop thinking of that!” Austin muttered, wiping the sudden dew of sweat from his brow. “It’s not helping. You have to stay cool, for Luke.”

  For Luke. For Luke’s sake, Austin could control his emotions. He had to, or he and Luke were both dead.

  The reminder of the danger he’d willingly placed himself in made Austin’s burgeoning erection wilt immediately. Breathing a sigh of relief, Austin started stripping off his work clothes.

  A few minutes later, washed and changed, Austin left his cabin and headed up the stairs to the main deck and the bright, spacious dining room. Mr. Smith had told him dinner was casual, but Señor Cordova didn’t like work clothes at the dinner table. Lacking any real dress clothes, Austin wore new black jeans, black soft-soled shoes, and a dark red sweater that he knew looked hot on him. He wanted to make a good first impression on his new employer, but mostly he wanted to make Luke’s black eyes burn with lust.

  “Pathetic, Austin,” he murmured as he jogged up the steps.

  Mr. Smith met him at the door of the dining room. The man’s brown eyes were solemn, his face blank. Austin’s insides clenched, wondering if he’d already screwed up somehow.

  “Bell.” Smith gave him
a curt nod. “Señor Cordova wants you to join him at his table for dinner.”

  Austin gulped. “Oh. Um. Okay. But, why?”

  “He always invites new hires to eat with him and his inner circle.” Turning and gesturing for Austin to follow, Mr. Smith started toward the other side of the room, where a round table sat next to the picture window. “He likes to get the measure of a person for himself, and he says dining with a person is the best way to do that.”

  “That makes sense,” Austin answered, wishing his voice didn’t sound so shaky.

  Smith shot him a mirthless smile. “I won’t lie to you, Bell. This is going to be one rough dinner. But you’ll survive. As long as you’re on the up-and-up, you got nothing to worry about.”

  Austin managed a laugh in spite of the sudden fear zinging through him. “Yeah.”

  Austin glanced around at the dining room as they crossed to the other side. It was laid out more like a restaurant than a ship’s mess, with white linen cloths covering the square tables. The people he’d met that afternoon, as well as some he hadn’t met, sat talking quietly. No one was eating yet. Austin wondered what they were waiting for.

  At the round table, two men Austin hadn’t met yet sat talking with the gray-haired woman who’d been in the trailer with Smith the day Austin applied for the job. All three looked up as Austin and Smith approached.

  “This is Austin Bell,” Smith said, slapping Austin on the back. “He’s our new diver. Bell, meet Dr. Allen, Dr. Jurgensen, and Dr. Perez. They lead the scientific team. You won’t see much of ‘em after tonight, but when they tell you something you listen.”

  Austin smiled and nodded. “Hi. Nice to meet y’all.”

  “Bell, after dinner you’re free to do pretty much what you want,” Smith told him. “Stay out of areas marked ‘restricted.’ Report to the stern cabin at oh-six-hundred in the morning for your assignment. Got it?”

  “Yes sir,” Austin said, lowering himself into the chair Smith indicated. “Thank you, sir.”

  Smith nodded and walked off, leaving Austin alone with three silent, expressionless scientists.

  Clearing his throat, Austin flashed his brightest smile at his companions. “So. Y’all lead the scientific team?”

  For a moment, he thought no one was going to answer. Just when he was on the verge of trying again, one of the men ‑‑ Dr. Allen ‑‑ spoke. “Yes. And what do you do, Mr. Bell?”

  Austin shrugged and tried to look harmless. “Me? I’m just a diver. I came begging Mr. Smith for a job, and he hired me.”

  Dr. Jurgensen raised shaggy white eyebrows. “And what do you bring to this expedition that Carson should allow your hiring?”

  “Exactly what I was wondering,” Dr. Allen agreed. “Do you have some special knowledge of the ‑‑ ow!” He frowned at the woman, Dr. Perez, making his jowls sag even further. “Why’d you kick me?”

  She glowered at him, and he shut up. Austin didn’t blame him. He’d have shut up too. The woman looked downright dangerous. She turned to him with a reptilian smile. “You were saying, Mr. Bell?”

  Austin gulped. “Well, like I told you and Mr. Smith yesterday, I have lots of specialty diving certifications. Deep diving, level three cave diving, Heliox, some others. And I have hundreds of dives in these waters. That’s why he hired me.”

  Dr. Perez nodded, still staring at him in a way that made him feel like he was under an X-ray machine. Dr. Allen sat glaring at her from under his lashes, clearly too afraid to say anything to her. Jurgensen, seemingly unconcerned with any of it, took a sip of his ice water.

  Austin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, fighting the urge to get up and go sit somewhere else. Carson Cordova wanted him at this table, which meant he needed to stay put if he wanted to stay on this ship. And he did want to stay. Luke was here on this ship, and where Luke was, that was where Austin belonged. He knew it, deep in his bones.

  “Good evening, my friends.”

  The voice coming from behind Austin was deep and rich, with a heavy Spanish accent. Oh God, it’s him. Carson Cordova.

  “Good evening, Carson,” Dr. Perez said. The two male scientists echoed her.

  Austin’s heart rate tripled. Forcing his face into what he hoped was a relaxed expression, he turned to face his employer and enem ... ... and was instantly struck dumb. Luke stood beside his father, wearing snug black pants and a cobalt blue sweater that made his pale skin glow. Wisps of fine white-blond hair brushed his shoulders and caressed the curve of his jaw. His expression was placid, but his eyes blazed with a need Austin understood perfectly.

  Austin wanted to throw Luke on the floor and have him, right then and there. He dug his fingers into the arms of his chair and made himself stay put.

  Luke’s adopted father smiled and took the chair beside Austin. “Mr. Bell. Thank you for joining me tonight. I am Carson Cordova. I assume you’ve met the good doctors?”

  “Yes, sir,” Austin answered, tearing his gaze from Luke with a huge effort. “It’s great to finally meet you, sir. Thanks for inviting me to eat with you an ... He darted a glance at Luke, who had sat beside his father and was staring at the table. “And, um, everyone else.”

  Carson’s handsome face twisted in a grimace. “This is Luke, my adopted son. You will have to work with him at times.”

  Heart hammering in his throat, Austin turned to look at Luke. “Cool. Do you dive, Luke?”

  Luke glanced up at him, sensual lips curving into a smile. “Yes, I dive. I…”

  “My son is certified, of course,” Carson interrupted, running a big, square hand over the lapel of his dark gray silk suit. “But he does not often dive these days. His health is quite delicate. Ah, the first course has arrived. Excellent.”

  Two waiters in white coats set bowls of spicy tomato soup in front of the diners. As Carson turned to address one of them in Spanish, Austin watched Luke from the corner of his eye. Luke kept his eyes downcast, but Austin could see his hurt, his anger and resentment, in the set of his shoulders and the tightness of his jaw. He wished he could go to Luke and just hold him, stroke his hair and kiss his smooth, perfect cheek.

  As if hearing Austin’s thoughts, Luke looked up, and his gaze locked with Austin’s. For one searing second, Austin felt as if he could see right into Luke’s mind. It was strangely calming. He smiled, Luke smiled back, and he knew they were thinking the same thing.

  Tonight.

  Chapter Five

  For Luke, dinner that night lasted eons. Predictably, Carson grilled Austin without mercy, inquiring with unfailing politeness about Austin’s family, his friends, his prior jobs, his hobbies. Austin answered every question completely and without hesitation, and Luke found himself wondering which parts were fact and which were fiction. It jarred him to realize how little he really knew about Austin, and he resolved to ask Austin later if all the things he’d told Carson were true.

  He tried not to think about the things he himself was keeping from Austin. I’ll tell him, he promised himself. When the time’s right.

  During dessert, conversation moved away from Austin and on to other topics, and Luke’s mind began to wander. Thoughts of the things he wanted to do with Austin pulled him further and further into his own fantasies, and he lost track of the conversation. Not that it mattered; his father rarely allowed him to speak anyway. Usually he hated how his father constantly interrupted and spoke for him. Tonight, however, he was grateful. Austin’s presence at the table knocked his world thoroughly off center, and he felt incapable of coherent speech.

  He’s here, Luke thought for about the thirtieth time in the past hour, surreptitiously staring at Austin from under his eyelashes. He’s really here. Right here at this table. And I can’t even touch him.

  They would rectify that situation later. Luke knew it, and the look in Austin’s eyes said he knew it too.

  At first, Luke wondered that the others didn’t notice the energy crackling between him and Austin. To Luke, their attraction to each other was
painfully obvious. It took him several minutes to realize that he didn’t see Austin’s emotions in his face; his blandly pleasant expression hadn’t changed at all. He knew Austin wanted him ‑‑ needed him ‑‑ because he felt it. Their mutual desire was like an exotic perfume whose scent only the two of them could detect.

  If he hadn’t been concentrating so hard on repressing the urge to launch himself into Austin’s arms, Luke figured he would’ve been more curious about whatever was happening between the two of them. Luke had known he was gay since his early teens. He’d kissed a few men, and once he and one of Father’s deck hands had jerked each other off. That was the extent of his sexual experience before Austin. He hadn’t felt like this about the deck hand, or the few men he’d kissed before that, but that didn’t mean much. Maybe it was normal to feel this way after a sexual encounter. Maybe everyone experienced this longing like an ache in their bones.

  Some part of him, though, knew this feeling wasn’t a common one. Instinct told him the unexplainable but undeniable bond he felt with Austin was rare and precious. Whatever happened to them in the search for the idol, Luke was grateful that he’d been gifted with this feeling, because it was the best thing he’d ever had.

  “Luke!”

  Carson’s sharp voice startled Luke out of his thoughts. He looked up, and cringed inwardly at the cold anger in his father’s eyes. “Yes, Father?”

  Carson frowned. “Dr. Allen asked you a question, my son. You will answer when your betters address you.”

  Heat rose in Luke’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Father.”

  Carson made an impatient noise. “It is Dr. Allen you must apologize to, not I.”

  Nodding, Luke turned to face the doctor. “My apologies for my rudeness, sir. What was it you asked me?”

  “I just asked what you were doing after dinner, actually.” Dr. Allen looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I was wondering if you ... well, you know, if you needed to go swimming. You look a bit tired.”

  A thin growl trickled from between Carson’s lips, and Luke’s guts twisted. Dr. Allen would receive a pointed reprimand for referring, however obliquely, to Luke’s shifting abilities in front of a new hire. However, the older man’s inadvertent slip would make the beating Luke was already going to get even worse.

 

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