by Cherry Adair
“No. This is more contained.” Rydell got to his feet, towering over Addison beside him. As frayed as her nerves were, six three of mostly naked Rydell was almost more than she could take right now. “I’ll have Oscar make sleeping arrangements for you and your men. If you need me, I’ll be available. Captain Seddeth will contact me.” He took her upper arm and practically dragged her from the bridge. “Come on, Addy.”
It was like being swept up by a hurricane as he propelled her down the stairs. Come on, Addy? Come on where? “Where do you th—”
They headed for the forward lounge. Members of the dive team were gathered around the large slab of the American walnut floating coffee table, each with a steaming mug of coffee. They’d gone from asleep to wide-awake, and were in various forms of dress.
“There is nowhere for more people to bunk,” she pointed out as they crossed the room.
“We’ll figure it out.” Rydell pulled her in after him as if she were a damn tug toy. “I need to speak to Oscar.”
Addison half turned, trying to uncouple their fingers. He wasn’t holding her tightly, but their hands remained clasped. While his grip on her was annoyingly possessive, it also reminded her of his strength, of the way he always protected the women in his life. Peri, Callie, and at one time herself.
But those days were gone. She didn’t need Ry, or any other man for that matter, to protect her or be her champion. She was better off on her own. She never ran away; she never broke her own damn heart. She was always there when she needed strength. “Then I’ll say good night now.”
He glanced at her, eyebrow arched “Addy. Humor me. Please. There’s a murderer on board. I can’t have you going off alone. Not now. I’ll walk you back to your cabin in a minute.”
Suddenly, like a lightning bolt, Addison knew she could never marry Naveen. Or maybe there was nothing “lightning bolt” about the thought at all. If she loved Naveen, if she wanted to be with him always, she wouldn’t have been putting it off—putting him off—for all this time.
Years ago they’d been lovers, and even back then he’d pressed for marriage, and even back then there was a small voice in her head that resisted. Maybe that’s why, when she’d met Rydell, she’d been able to fall for him so hard and so fast.
Spending the rest of her life with Naveen wasn’t an option, because she’d always be comparing him to Rydell, and he’d never measure up. Oh, in some ways, Naveen was a better man. But on the things that mattered to her, the things that made Rydell unforgettable, Naveen couldn’t compare. Like how Rydell could inspire a roller coaster of emotions with just a glance of his fog-gray eyes. Like how Ry didn’t bother to hide his opinion. Like how he was a man guided by instinct, and how he’d risk everything to follow his instinct. Like now—when his instinct told him to protect her, when really, all she’d done ever since he’d gotten on board was be a royal bitch to him.
What she needed, more than marrying Naveen, was to find another man like Rydell. She might spend the rest of her life looking for the man who could compare favorably with him, but nothing else was going to help her get over him.
God, what horrendous timing. She couldn’t tell Naveen now, of course, but when the dust settled, when they reached the dive site, she would. Flexing her fingers, she tried to break free. She needed to be alone. Needed time to sort through the roller coaster of her emotions. She needed—damn it—to be away from the force field that was Rydell Case.
Her reluctance to be pulled along with him was, apparently, immaterial. His fingers remained clasped between hers, and her feet keep up with him because otherwise she’d fall on her ass.
Ry spotted Oscar across the room, talking with Kevin and Georgeo. “You’ll wait for me?”
She nodded.
“Oscar, tengo que hablar con usted.”
Oscar came to Rydell’s side immediately. They had a brief, quiet conversation. Addison, intrigued, watched the two men as if she were at a tennis match. She might not speak Spanish, but Rydell was emphatic, and Oscar seemed to be agreeing with him.
“Just need to talk to the team and fill them in.” He steered her over to where they sat. Without preamble, he said, “The man who went over was one of the prince’s bodyguards. Surveillance footage clearly shows a fight. Someone threw him overboard. There’s no question it was deliberate.”
“Holy fuck,” Lenka said, his buzz-cut red hair fiery in the overhead lights. Bare feet propped up on the huge coffee table, he wore a prison-striped blue-and-white pajama bottom and a white undershirt. He sat forward. “What kinda douchenozzle would do something like that?”
Rydell’s biceps brushed against Addison’s upper arm, sending an electrical current through her body. She felt an intense need for self-preservation and shifted in his hold again. But his fingers remained twined through hers, and he didn’t release her. Her heart did a few calisthenics. She reminded herself they were no longer together, and why. Her heart didn’t give a flying crap. It beat harder. A quick sideways glance up at his face showed that he was oblivious. Thank God.
“We have no suspects,” Ry told his dive crew. “Which pretty much means everyone on board is a suspect.”
“Come on, Ry.” Samuel sounded annoyed as he gestured to the small group with the hand with the partially missing index finger. “Surely you don’t think one of us had anything to do with this?” Unlike the others in their rumpled, just-out-of-bed attire, Samuel wore navy shorts with a neat crease, a light-gray T-shirt, and sandals.
“Of course not. But someone tossed that poor bastard overboard. And until the cops figure out who, we’re all along for the ride.”
Everyone sat forward in their chairs, eyes trained on Rydell. Georgeo, sitting on the arm of Kevin’s chair, put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t shrug off his touch as she usually did, but looked up at him as he said grimly, “You’re saying we have a killer on board?”
Rydell looked from one to the other and nodded. “I know this for sure. That man didn’t jump. He wasn’t even pushed. He was lifted and tossed. So yeah, we have a fucking killer on board. I suggest no one wanders around alone, and I sure as shit advise no one to go out on deck in this weather.
“The Coast Guard officers are remaining on board until we reach the Maldives. The alternative was to return to Mangalore and remain there until they finish the investigation. Cooperate in any way you can so that we can get this resolved as soon as possible. I trust each one of you implicitly, and you can trust both Jax and Oscar. Good men. Security specialists I hired last year to keep an eye out for Addy. They’re both armed, and will be doing their own investigation. Go to your cabins, get some sleep. This storm should be behind us in about four hours. Either myself or Seddeth will keep you apprised as the situation is updated.”
“You won’t object to me carrying.” MoMo didn’t phrase it as a question.
“I don’t object to any of you carrying as long as this doesn’t turn into the OK Corral. Keep your weapons out of sight. For now.”
“Kev, bunk with me until this is sorted out,” Addison offered. She didn’t like the idea of her friend being alone at the other end of the ship, and knew her friend had a similar stance on guns. Neither woman liked them around. But right this minute Addison was thrilled that so many people on board were armed and knew how to use a gun.
Georgeo’s hand tightened on the blonde’s shoulder. “She won’t be alone.”
Kevin peeled his fingers off her shoulder but didn’t move otherwise. “I’m not having sex with you, baby boy.”
Addison bit back a smile. Kevin wasn’t rejecting Geo’s offer. “My offer stands,” she told her friend. It was good to have options.
“You good with that?” Rydell addressed Kevin. She gave a small nod, not looking too happy, but not rejecting the idea out of hand. He turned to Addison. “Georgeo will watch Kev’s back.”
And her front. But Addison didn’t point out the obvious. They were adults, they should be able to share a confined space for a few hours without
coming to blows.
“Addison will be alone,” MoMo pointed out with a frown, his Polish accent thicker when he was tired. Short, stocky, and muscular, he already had a thick shadow blurring his lower jaw. His curly black hair stood up around his head like a halo. He had a habit of combing his fingers through it when he was frustrated or nervous. He was like a big, hairy teddy bear, and Addison gave him a reassuring smile. His cheeks flushed when he smiled back.
“She won’t be.” Rydell glanced at Addison with steely eyes glittering with certainty—of what? Promise? Threat? Voice suddenly husky, he said, “Ready?”
Oh, I’ve heard that voice before. Ready? To be alone with you? Not just no, but hell no. “I’d appreciate you walking me as far as my door,” she told him pointedly.
His lips twitched as he extended his elbow like Fred Astaire. A buff, semi-naked Fred Astaire. She ignored it, and him, and after saying good night to the others left the lounge, footsteps even. It only felt as though she were running for her life on the inside.
Addison had no idea why her heart was pumping so fast as she crossed the lounge.
Fear? Logical. There was a killer on board, after all.
An anxiety attack? Unprecedented.
Anticipation? Un-freaking-acceptable.
She walked faster.
If Ry followed, awesome. He might save her from the killer. If he stayed in the lounge, yakking to his best buddies until sunrise, double awesome. She’d get to the safety of her cabin untempted. Either way she’d be happy as long as she got to close a solid door between them.
“Hey, hold up.” So much for her strategic retreat. Rydell caught up with her as she started going down the stairs. She held on to the teak bannister to keep her balance as the ship rocked and rolled.
“You could’ve stayed up with them,” she told him, feeling the heat of his all-but-naked body down her back. She fought the urge to step closer to him. One touch, and she wouldn’t let go. “I’ll be asleep the second my head hits the pillow.”
“No, you won’t.” He glanced over at her. Damn him. He looked at her body like he was drinking her in, and her body responded to the touch of his eyes by tingling with anticipation, forgetting what her mind was ordering.
Not. Going. There. Not!
You’ll stay up for the rest of the night and mull,” he told her. “You’ll analyze everyone on board and try to figure out who our killer is.”
He was, of course, right, damn him. It galled her that he knew her so well.
“And I’ll be doing the same thing,” the arrogant bastard informed her. “We’ll be doing it together, because until this guy is identified and caught I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
* * *
He was aware of how high-handed he sounded, but didn’t give a flying fuck. Addison gave him a hostile look. “That’s not necessary. I’m no longer your concern. I’ll lock my d—”
“Addison!”
Well, fuck. Good ol’ Prince Darshi to the rescue.
Ry had the instant sensation of going from light to heavy. He fought the urge to tell the prince to go back to bed, because the words were going to sound just as petty and spiteful as he would intend them. And, yes, the words were going to reveal just how damn scared he was about losing. Like a sixth grader on a playground who knew he stood a damn good chance of losing a fight. Like he’d felt when his boat was seized by pirates he couldn’t stop. Like he felt when he thought of the rest of his goddamn life without her.
Addy’s my concern. Not yours. Not yet, not ever.
Cold sweat broke out on his chest. Yeah. She was his concern. She was his … everydamnfuckingthing. Addy stopped, turning to greet the prince with a smile that set Ry’s teeth on edge and bored a hole straight through his core.
“Naveen.” His wife held out both hands. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
Not his wife, Ry reminded himself.
Not. His. Wife.
Not anymore.
Yeah. That sucked the big one. He didn’t pretend, even to himself, that he wasn’t jealous as hell. It ate at him. Was a living, breathing, manifestation of all that was wrong with his world.
Masochist that he was, he stayed close enough to read their microexpressions, close enough to observe the prince’s face.
Darshi gripped Addy’s hands in his well-manicured fingers and reeled her in. Her ponytail bounced on her back, and one of the skinny straps on her tank top slid down her arm. Before he repositioned it, she did it herself.
Ry didn’t step out of the way in the narrow corridor, so they were sandwiched in like sardines in a ménage à trois.
“Nothing, thank you, darling,” the prince assured her. Like the rest of them, he’d been woken to report to the police at the butt crack of fucking daybreak, yet he looked shower-fresh, hair slicked back, eyes bright, white linen pressed. Hell, he’d even taken time to dose himself with cologne. And Ry was certain that wasn’t for the local law enforcement’s benefit.
“He had no family,” the prince told Addy. “So there’s no one to contact. It’s troubling that we have a killer on board.” He slanted Ry an antagonistic glance. “Nothing untoward happened before Case and his motley crew came on board. I’m sure once the Coast Guard investigates further they’ll discover some nefarious connection between one of them and Azm. Trust me,” Darshi drew one of their clasped hands to his face and kissed her fingers while looking deeply into Addy’s eyes.
“Naveen—” she said warningly. But she didn’t look annoyed or even mildly cranky that he’d cast aspersions on everyone else on board. It was just a polite murmur of correction.
Ry’s chest hurt looking at them together. They were the unit he and Addy had once been. The unit he wanted back with every fiber of his being.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Darshi told her. “I’m not going to leave your side until this matter is resolved, and even then…” His attention flicked to Ry, and his tone changed. “This is a private conversation, Case.”
“And not that interesting. Addy and I were in the middle of a far more compelling convo when you showed up. Wanna fight for her?” Fuck. That just came out. Addy was going to turn around and punch him. Instead, she muffled a laugh.
Ry let out the breath he’d been holding for the last few minutes. She’d laughed. His world tilted sideways. He’d begun to think his memory had been playing tricks on him when it recalled how magical her laugh could be. It hadn’t. Her laugh was even better than he remembered. Water on a dying, parched plant. And greedy bastard that he was, he’d do anything to hear more of it.
“Childish. But typical,” Darshi said smoothly before turning his attention back to Addy. “I’ll wait for you in my cabin, darling.” He brushed her chin with his fingertips then slid between them and headed to his cabin one door down from Addy’s.
Douchebag.
The prince thought he could have anything he wanted with a flick of his fingers. Including Addy. I’ll wait for you in my cabin, darling. Hah. Over my dead body.
Addy slipped her keycard into her door. As the door clicked shut on the prince’s cabin, the asshole on the correct side of it, Addy said lightly, “I’d pay good money to see the two of you rolling around on the floor fighting for my honor.”
The door opened, releasing Addy-scented cool air and revealing her dimly lit cabin. He knew she’d been watching the storm before he’d knocked earlier. They both loved observing clouds boil and wind whipping the waves. For storm-watchers tonight was a doozy. The floor beneath his feet pitched with high surges, strong enough that he had to brace a hand on the wall to keep his balance. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure it was just due to the storm. Addy had him off kilter.
Preceding him into the cabin, she stopped just inside as he closed the door behind them. His heart stuttered when she didn’t instantly give him a hard shove and order his ass out.
Walking partway into the cabin afforded him a delectable view of her ass in the yellow shorts that showcased her
long, long legs. She turned, and they were a couple of feet apart in the dimness.
Ry’s senses were overwhelmed by the nearness of her; by the clear oval of her face with her hair pulled back and swinging down her shoulders. “Who’d you bet on?” His voice sounded thick to his own ears, yet he managed to make it sound like he was joking. Her fragrance wrapped around him like gardenia-scented bonds.
Jesus. This was like prodding a sore tooth. He knew it was going to fucking hurt; why did he keep on doing it? Because pain when he was with Addison beat the shit out of the hell he lived in without her.
“Naveen would never resort to a fistfight.”
“Swords at dawn, then?”
She didn’t smile, but the tension around her eyes eased some. Her lips were the same color as he remembered her nipples were, a soft, pale pink. His mouth watered, and his dick stirred.
“Of course not.”
Of course a physical altercation wouldn’t happen. Darshi was a lot of things, but uncivilized wasn’t one of them. He was probably a decent guy. Ry should really stop baiting him. It wasn’t the most mature behavior. But when he was around Addy he felt like a randy sixteen-year-old with only one thought on his mind.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“Not even for you?” He couldn’t keep the joke in his voice. The stakes were too bloody high.
The almost-smile drifted from her face. “Not for anything.”
“Then he’s a fool. Because I’d fight for you like”—he drew a deep breath—“like my goddamn life depended on it.”
She closed her eyes as if he’d struck her, and the color left her cheeks. With words that were barely a whisper, she looked at him with pain-filled eyes. “But you didn’t.”
Her words couldn’t have been more crushing if they were a five-ton anchor on his chest. Words screaming of her pain and anguish and all the hurt they inflicted on each other.
She was the one who wanted the divorce, but now wasn’t the time to point out that that ball had been in her court. Yet he had to lock his knees to keep from falling to them and begging her to forgive him. For anything. Fuck, for everything. Who gave a fuck who was at fault? They were beyond that. “I’d kill to win you back, Addy.”