Читать книгу Jewel Heist - JJ Keller - Страница 6

Chapter 2

John couldn’t move. Somehow during the collision, her purse had attached itself to his shirt button, limiting his mobility. The woman’s softness sank into the length of his body. Lush curves and warm, succulent heat made him lose his focus on why he was aboard the ship. The fragrant scent of wisteria had filtered through the air as she’d hurled them onto the sofa. He had to keep both feet grounded to the floor.

Her eyes, the color of fresh seaweed, widened, then her glance connected with his. “I’m supposed to be in Ninety-eight.”

She waved her hand, the key card’s silver band shining under the artificial light.

He gave in and shifted to the side. Had she noticed the painful rise beneath his zipper?

The purse strap, wrapped around her wrist, followed. She gripped the chain and tugged, agitating the beast below. He grabbed her hand and flipped the room key around, placing the large writing in front of her eyes. “Mary Keefe, Stateroom Ninety-six, Deck Eight.”

“Damn, flaky greeter told me Ninety-eight.”

He released the card and she lowered her hand to rest on his side.

John had considered the assignment a cake walk. The girl had arrived, to a semi-confined area. He’d secure proof of obvious fraudulent insurance practice and possibly gain information regarding the location of the diamonds, all the while protecting her–if needed. Mentally reviewing the data file he’d collected before he’d started his on-site investigation, he now understood. Mary Keefe was gorgeous, charismatic, and innocent-looking. All the characteristics, making her appear not guilty of grand theft.

A fascinating and beautiful red glow crept from her neck onto her cheeks, giving her a hot, desirable appearance. His arousal stiffened making his trousers seem much too snug.

Lips pressed tightly, she said, “If you move, I’ll go to my room.”

“Your purse chain is stuck to my shirt.” He lifted the edge of his dark blue polo. “John, by the way. John Wang.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Mary Keefe from Keefe, South Carolina.” She slipped her arm from the purse and sat up and away from him. Her dark green pants matched the little vest-type blouse she wore. The top didn’t have sleeves and her arms were muscular, very sexy. His gaze was drawn to the valley between her breasts. The satin material slipped lower to the point where a mound slid into touch range. His cock pulsed.

Delicate work was needed to get the purse chain off his shirt without tearing the material, and John knew she had the skill.

John tugged the bag close and pulled the shirt around. When he shifted on the sofa, the chain jangled, adding background noise to the people walking in the hallway. The entrance door was propped open by her luggage, with the wheels in the corridor. “Maybe you should move your bag inside, so people won’t trip.”

Mary glanced at the exit. Traffic had increased since the ship had leveled out. Her long, slender legs untangled from the lotus position. She hurried forward. A quick jerk to her bright red luggage and the clack of the handle sounded. As she crossed the threshold, the door whooshed and snapped shut.

Her short slacks were huggers with no visible panty outline. His head whirled with the fantasy possibilities her beauty created. He’d worked a tiny hole in his shirt, making the ring more attached than before.

“Let me help.” She sat on the sofa, legs crossed Indian style. The moment she leaned forward and took the purse and his shirt in hand, John’s throat dried to the point he couldn’t swallow.

Mary, focused on the task, apparently did not notice his discomfort. He tried to look at everything, think about anything except whether she had any undergarments on at all and how he’d fit nice and snug inside her. Didn’t work.

He studied her, not that he needed to. He’d memorized every aspect of her life and every feature of her face. Her soft, nearly perfect body had been a welcome surprise.

“There you go. It’s left a small hole, but that can be stitched.” She threw the bag over her shoulder. “How about after I unpack, we go get a drink?”

He wasn’t surprised by her invitation. They were on a cruise designed for hook-ups. “Sure.”

She rose, smiled enough to show straight bleached teeth, and grabbed her baggage. “I’ll see you in about thirty minutes?”

“Okay. I’ll come to your place this time.” He smiled. Not going into the field very often made him happy. He was a tech guy and former police detective. He’d done his time on the street. However, his knowledge of gems made him lead investigator for his case. If not for the ice, John Kajiyama, aka John Wang, would be sitting at a desk at Atlantic Coast Investigations in Florida right now. Instead, here he was, salivating over a stunning possible criminal.

He rose and followed her like a panting dog, waiting as she maneuvered the key card into the lock next door and flung the entrance open.

“See you in a few, John,” she said and slipped into the room. Her shiny taut calves highlighted by the sleek black heels disappeared from sight.

His cock pressed against his jockeys. Any more stimulation and he’d crest. Christ, if he was this turned on by the mere sight of boobs and ankles, how could he lead an investigation? How long since he’d been with a woman? Clearly, too long.

* * * *

Mary leaned against the door and took a deep breath. His rock-hard penis had bumped nicely against her hips. Was he attracted to her, or was it a coincidence? Of course, any straight guy probably got a hard on when a woman was plunked right on his lap. He could have taken the angry approach. Instead he’d been nice, let her get her bearings, and saved the chain of her purse when it would have been easier to snap it apart. Perhaps she should have a buddy for the cruise? A plan formed. To keep on track, she’d repulse the undesirables by claiming she was with John. He could do the same with her, and they’d go their separate ways at the end of the night.

The next day would be spent entirely at sea. She could gather a lot of intel for a variety of candidates. Late afternoon the following day, they’d dock at Kingston. Either she’d need to escape–shivers coursed over her at the thought that Conrad could be onboard or at the port–or she’d invite one of the lucky men to sight-see with her. A little romp among the banana plants sounded like a pleasant time. She dragged her luggage forward and placed the canvas and plastic on a twin mattress. About a foot of space was between the two beds. Small size–she bounced on the mattress of the other–but comfortable.

The square port window was dark. Stars splattered the night sky, giving wondrous illumination to all who glanced upon their glory. Love happened under the stars, didn’t it? She so wanted to have some connection to her baby’s father, instead of a wham, bam, thank you, sir. Well, fate had stepped right up and shattered that dream. Imitation love had taken several months to develop with Conrad and that relationship had bombed. Injected with a total stranger’s fluid by artificial insemination seemed cold and scientific. Phoenix had two students in her class who were brother and sister because the moms had used the same sperm donor. The teens hadn’t known that when they were making out in the parking lot of the Lyon’s Food Mart. It would be horrible to have one child who unknowingly fell in love with their brother or sister. Maybe the donor plan was the best alternative.

Somewhere in her bag, her cellphone rang. She unhooked the magnetic latch and dragged the tiny device into her palm.

Phoenix, the worrier. “Hi, just wanted to make sure you made it on board and wondering if you’ve run into anyone exciting yet.”

“Funny you should ask. I was looking for my cabin, a door opened and I steamrolled a guy in the room next to mine.” Mary unzipped her suitcase and began disassembling the contents.

“Way to go, girlfriend. Is he a viable candidate?”

“What? I want to know, too,” Jenn said, her voice coming from a distance.

“Just a second.” Phoenix repeated the story. “I’m going to put you on speaker phone in order for our addicted friend to hear.”

“I don’t think he meets the donor classification. Black hair, my height or an inch taller maybe, okay body. He’s a nice guy.” Her undies and sexy night garments went in the top drawer for easy access.

“I thought we weren’t going to rule out browns or blacks in hair color?” Kim asked.

“I’m not.”

“It’s because he’s short,” Jenn shouted.

“No, if I wore flats he’d be taller than me.”

“What are the problems then, bad DNA?” Kim asked.

“Nooo. I guess I’m not attracted to him.” Mary sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at the bedside clock. “Not to be rude, but I need to go. I promised John I’d buy him a drink.”

“No alcohol, Mary,” Kim said.

“Bye,” Mary disconnected and quickly hung up her limited wardrobe. The miniature dresser didn’t pose a problem, because when a girl anticipated a sudden exit, she packed light.

The luggage wouldn’t fit in the bottom of the cabinet, and considering the cabin was the size of her closet at home, she didn’t want it to take up space. The bag wouldn’t wedge sideways, lengthwise or vertically into the cupboard. Nothing worked. By now her hair had fallen from the loose bun at the nape of her neck, irritating her. She tucked the strand behind her ear as a firm rap sounded on the entrance.

Damn. She dragged the case to the connecting door and hung the strap over the handle, twisting the knob to make sure it was locked. Another rap, louder than the first, drew her attention. She ran and pulled the portal open. John stood outside.

“Hi, sorry, trying to squeeze the luggage in the closet. Didn’t work.” She cocked her head toward the large red rectangle dangling from the door knob. His gaze moved across her forehead, along her neck and down to her heaving chest. She resisted the urge to pull the material of her vest closed, preventing his perusal. As his brown-eyed glance met hers, his gaze darted around her face. Maybe her makeup was running down her cheeks. She did feel sticky. Stomach fluttering, she tossed a long strand of hair over her shoulder.

“I’ll get it to fit.” Instead of looking at the suitcase, his stare remained on her.

Why did she get a strong idea he wasn’t referring to the baggage? At the titillating thought, a tingle started in her lower abdomen. Sexy verbal innuendo was her favorite type of sparring.

“Okay, I need to freshen up a little.” Why the hell did her heart skip a beat? Watching him watch her, she missed the step up to the bathroom. Grabbing the handle, she awkwardly slipped inside. She’d tossed her cosmetic bag on the counter as she unpacked. If only she had music playing in the cabin to cover the noise. Instead, she flipped on the sink faucet, and then used the toilet. Upon flushing, the darn thing sounded like a noisy vacuum. She grimaced and dumped out the necessities to revive her face. No way would he not have heard that racket.

Wash, tone, lotion were automatic, like setting an alarm for work. She shut off the water. A quick application of brown eyeshadow and black liner required precision to draw out the almond shape of her eyes. Blush was a random, slap-dash thing for her. The berry-blast lipstick, however, had to be perfect and applied with care because she had cupid lips. Little peaks, directly under the bridge of her nose, had to be outlined or she’d have big red clown lips instead of little rosebuds. In addition, her bottom lip was bruised, so her usual gnawing hurt. She bent in half and brushed her hair. Upright again, she added a cloth coated rubber band, loosely knotted the hair at her nape and added another fastener to keep the curls in place.

Finished, she opened the door to find John sitting on the sofa, one leg braced on the other and an info flyer–apparently about the ship as Verbena Skylark was splashed across the first page–open on his lap.

He lifted his head. His eyelids went half-mast.

Her heart caught again. Maybe she was coming down with something. Lust came to mind. Could he be a potential donor after all?

“I liked your hair down better.” His gaze was hot, heating her even more. With a single flip, the magazine closed and fell onto the tiny coffee table.

She stepped off the platform and as graceful as a ballet dancer, swayed toward him. “Thanks.”

She sat beside him on the tiny sofa, which put their thighs together. Hormones raged, jetting pulsations to her lower region. Her clit tingled. “My friends insisted I come on this cruise to get over a love affair gone wrong. They encouraged me to meet a load of hot, nice guys.”

“I think that’s what single’s cruises are designed to do.” Poker face looked good on him.

She couldn’t mention the donor project because a woman looking for a baby-daddy was a sensitive issue. Men got all quirky about legalities, financial responsibilities, and even if she had no interest in the man participating in the raising of the child, the guy, if he was high on the donor list of prospects, might feel a need to be involved. Which was why she’d jumped into treatment after Conrad said yes. He’d been okay with the prospect of being a detached father. Of course, she hadn’t known at the time he’d be buying a vacation home with stolen diamonds while she might be rotting in jail.

“I thought maybe we could work together to filter out the people we don’t want to be with.”

“Okay, I’m in research, so I understand your reason to sort information, evaluate your data, and select possible dating material.” He talked like a math person. Statistical analysis was her weak point for sure. “What do you have planned?”

Hot cheeks, raging clit–she had to get cool. Pitch the idea and go get a drink. “Well, I thought we could help each other. More than likely there are twice as many females on this ship as males–”

“Six thousand passengers and three thousand employees. Of the six K probably sixty-two point four percent are female.”

She dropped her hands from pressing against her face. “Okay. So there are more women than men. What I propose is we cover for each other. If an undesirable approaches me, I’ll turn him away by claiming we’re together. You can do the same. At the end of the night, we’ll select our chosen guy or girl and be on our merry way.”

His gaze roamed over her face and focused on her eyes. “What if you’re making a bad decision? Your data may be skewed by alcohol or slick magazine-cover good looks. Do I have the right to tell you?”

“Ah.” She lifted an eyebrow. “How about we test the market and see what happens first?”

His almond shaped eyes widened. “What about a safe word?”

“Pardon?” She crossed her legs and flicked her fingernails.

“Let’s say you’ve chosen your partner and later find out he’s not what you thought. You could give a shout-out…ah… ‘Bang Wang’ and I’ll come running.”

“Bang Wang?” She held in the laughter and was very proud of herself for not even giving way to a smile.

Red appeared on his neck and cheeks. She must not have hid her expression after all. “I’m sorry. I think it’s a perfect shout-out for help.” She nodded.

“First thought that popped into my head,” he said and looked at his shoes.

“We’ll see how tonight goes and then decide. Although, I think you’ll need one, if there is a significant difference in male and female guests. You’re going to be hit on more than me. Toss around a few suggestions for a good code word when the cougars come after you.” She tapped her chin with a finger.

“I won’t need one.” His hand dragged through his short dark hair.

“Oh, why won’t you?”

“Because I’ve a hard shell and keen instincts when it comes to people.” He stood, as if the topic made him nervous.

Diamonds were the hardest everlasting mineral on earth. All women wanted to enhance their beauty by the glittering glow of the sparkles. John would be superlative arm candy for any woman on the cruise. The perfect fit for him. “What do you think of diamonds?”

He jerked as if sucker-punched. “Diamonds?”

“Yes. They’re the hardest jewel on earth, they sparkle and they’re priceless. I’m thinking diamonds is the perfect code for you.” She stood, tugged her vest, and walked around the coffee table. “Ready?”

“Yes, more than you know.” He slowly rose from the sofa.