Читать книгу Jewel Heist - JJ Keller - Страница 8

Chapter 4

Mary scratched the top of her right foot with her left big toe. The bright red nail polish matched her bikini perfectly. She’d considered adding a toe ring, but not wanting a tan line on one of her toes, declined. The Wave Pool was empty except for a couple of children with their mother. Large sunglasses hid the woman’s eyes, but she acted tired, like she needed a vacation from her vacation. Although designed around adults, children were on the cruise. It was a chance for families to relax together and reconnect, she supposed.

“Do you have photographs of your sister?” Mary gazed at First Mate Matthew Taylor. He fit all of her categories perfectly. All she needed to do was see one of his relatives for a DNA scan of sorts. Matthew’s knee rubbed against her oil-slick thigh as he perched on the edge of the lounge chair next to hers. His dirty blond hair and longish nose didn’t bother her in the least. He was athletic and the way his white uniform fit proved he hadn’t exaggerated when he’d described his workout routine.

“I wish I did,” he said. “Up for a run in a couple hours? It’s two miles around the decks, and I’ll show you the bridge.” He winked, grinning. His eyes were an amber color, not brown, not yellowish, but more of a dark muted orange. Good-looking and husky voiced, he drew her gaze every time he opened his mouth.

One of the wayward children screamed a long, piercing wail, drawing their attention to the trio again. A boy had fallen and held his knee in his shaking hands. Even from a distance his little lips could be seen quivering.

“I’ll be back.” Matthew took off running, rounding the curve of the pool deck like a seasoned sailor. As he gently administered care to the youngster, the mother hovered and the little girl clung to her mother’s black and white striped sarong.

Mary’s stomach tingled in excitement. He was perfect, and obviously loved kids, as evidenced by his relaxed body motions and soothing tones that carried in the wind. She withdrew her notebook and added the details before she forgot. Matthew Taylor, DNA: perfect in structure, no odd body growths. A sister going into an art program. Organs were in good shape, tight runner’s muscles and rarely, if ever, drank alcohol. Never smoked. Nice, easy going and especially thoughtful, as he told her he’d be right back. Outstanding looks, ’nough said. Was he resourceful? Intelligence would be important in offspring.

Covering a yawn, she glanced at Matthew. He was wrapping a white cruise towel around the child’s knee, then cradled the boy and carried him to the elevator. Matthew turned and nodded to her. He’d be back. Yes, he was resourceful and honorable. The wind blew the page over, so she continued writing accolades for her number one pick.

“Donor. What does that mean?” John slipped onto the lounge next to her.

“It’s my list to help me narrow the search for a prospective suitor.”

He didn’t look wrung-out, so he must have gotten some sleep.

Mary hadn’t gone directly to bed because of the surprise she’d found in one of her fashionable, trendy high heels. A bag of uncut diamonds wedged in the toe. She’d spent most of the night sewing stolen diamonds onto her evening bag. The process to remove the agate stones and place the diamonds in the clasp had been long and intense. Her tiny nail kit and borrowed silverware made the task cumbersome and time consuming. Conrad must have intended to go on the cruise, and if the luggage hadn’t made it through the scanner, she would have gone to jail.

At five bells, she’d crawled into bed and slept like an innocent. She should turn in the jewels at the next port. But, what if…

“You know this pool is at the bow, on top level, and will be very rocky if we hit waves.” John lay against the stretchy fabric of the seat and closed his eyes.

“Yep. I’ve found I don’t get motion sickness, which is odd because I sit all day at work, so I don’t have a resistance built up or anything.” Notes finished, she glanced at the entry. Damn, she hadn’t taken a photo. Matt would come back, and she’d take one then. She set her phone on the table as a reminder. “Did you have a good time last night?”

“Yes. Very interesting.” His reply didn’t satisfy her curiosity. “What do you do? Your profession?”

“I’m a jewelry designer. Did you meet some fascinating babes at Forever?” Why was she so curious?

“Um hum, danced under the stars. Beautiful and enjoyable. You should have been there.” The binding on the chair creaked as he leaned forward. In a flash, his shirt came off and he tossed it on the table with her phone.

Her breath caught in her throat. Last night she’d touched his hard muscles covered in smooth skin, and today she got to see them. He was spread eagled against the chair, and his sculpted, hairless chest drew her attention. A six-pack wasn’t evident, and he did have a couple of tiny egg rolls on the sides, but all in all, John Wang was sexy adorable.

“Why are you up here? I thought you wanted to search for the perfect partner.” His shoulders lifted and lowered on the lounge as he settled. He kicked off his sandals. Even his toes were hairless.

“Because of the waves, they provide a nice little foreplay.” She threw out the bait, knowing it would catch any single guy’s attention, as she withdrew a novel from the bag. Excitement skittered through her stomach, but she resisted smiling and pointed her focus on John’s face.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” He lifted his sunglasses, his brown-eyed glance probing.

“This pool is one of the most popular because of the motion. As you’re swimming laps, a jarring will occur and you’ll literally float over the person next to you.” She winked. “The stronger the wave, the greater the friction. I imagine more than sun tan oil is lubricating this pool.”

“I doubt that. Probability is–”

“Only one way to find out.” One sandal hit the deck and she tried to toe off the other one.

“Anything to get you out of that overly large garment,” he muttered.

She slid the crimson and white orchid-printed robe from her shoulders. The tiny little bikini she’d just been able to wiggle into flashed in the early sun. Blood red and held together by thin gold snaps on each hip and between the breasts, she’d purchased the scrap of nothing with sex on her mind. Albeit she’d intended to only have intercourse with her lover of the past year, but life was ever changing and she’d roll with the waves.

“Put it back on.” John held the cover-up in front of her.

“Silly, we can’t swim if I’m weighted down.” She looked for the stairs. “Come on, it’s early enough we won’t have a lot of strangers getting on our stuff.”

She took a couple of steps forward and dived, shoved off the bottom and quickly came to the surface. Cold. Cold water. She flung hair away from her face and looked around. Where was John? Like a seal in the Atlantic, he swam beside her, dragging his hands along her legs.

His arms held steady at the sides of her breasts. The narrow string was hardly a barrier.

Mary’s hands went beneath his cold-pimpled nipples and together they paddled, staying afloat. “I can tell you’re a good swimmer.”

“Maybe I’m just good at holding my breath?”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t hear a splash and you glided through the water.”

He had rhythm and a part of her wanted to be into him, because she imagined he was also very good at the baby-making thing.

“Are you asking me to race?” He tilted his head to one side to dislodge water.

“Not now that I know you’re an Olympian. How about one freestyle lap down and back just to prove my point?” His hands hadn’t moved and the frigid water made her nipples peak. Their connection felt awkward and comfortable at the same time.

His beautiful mouth formed a lopsided smile. Did he know what he did to her? “You think one lap is enough foreplay?” Finally he lifted a set of five and stroked the side of her face. “Not enough for me. I require a little build up before I blow the load.”

“From what I heard, you’ll get all that you wish from the gyrations.” With a flourish, she held out her arm. Sprinkles of water glittered in the early morning sunrays. “Shall we?”

He laughed and eased onto the surface. “Ladies first, and I guarantee my woman will always be the first to come.”

Flapping her feet to keep upright, she flipped onto her back. She hoped what Jenn’s friend Stubbing had told her about the Wave Pool was accurate. Hormones had her frazzled. Her vagina was already tightening in eager anticipation.

John’s strong strokes, in the American crawl, took him a few meters away. The guy was a competitor. She backstroked and could tell from the markers on the side walls they were near the end. Not one wave pounded them. Damn, she hated to be wrong.

As she flung her right arm out, the water moved. A slow rise at first, and then a great force like being on a paddle-boat in the center of a hurricane. John held strong, but at the second wave he landed on top of her. Grabbing the edge of the pool, he held them together and locked in place as another current hit them broadside. She went under and panic set in, her heart pounded in her ears and her breath caught. Frantic, she blew out air and anxiously clutched for the surface. John’s hand went around her wrist and dragged her until she was wedged between him and the pool’s handrail. All of her body parts touched his. He kept them connected until the liquid leveled. Security surrounded her, providing her with a sense of safety for the first time in several weeks.

Mary wiped the chlorine-scented water from her face and tried to catch her breath. John wasn’t breathing heavy at all. They were so snug; her nipples had to be piercing his chest.

“Your heart’s racing,” he whispered into her ear.

A whistle spouted sharp tones.

“That was a rush, wasn’t it? Guess it got me aroused.” Aggressiveness wasn’t part of her nature, but he created a fire in her. A strange fear that only he could satisfy the tingling building in her lower region made her want to move, to flee.

Until he nuzzled her neck, then her thoughts scattered and her clit clutched with need. “What?”

The man wasn’t anywhere near her donor choice, but he sparked her to life. She hadn’t felt this exhilarated since…ever. He was kind, funny, sexy, and most of all, if his necking was a prelude, John would be a world class kisser. She had to stop him. Candidate number one would be returning any minute. She bowed her head, focused on what lay beneath the water. “Heart’s beating fast because I’m hormonal and you know what effect cold has on a woman.”

John jumped back fast, creating a whirlpool. “Maybe we should return and get warm.”

His tone was as chilled as the water. He flipped like a sea lion and snapped his arms in the stream as if racing time. Mary took a deep breath and used the strength of her legs to catch him. A second wave rolled her over him and she bottomed. The strong surge sent him several meters in front of her.

He stopped and looked at her as if he was trying to calculate the odds. She must have stirred his interest, because he flung out his fingers to reach for her.

She clung to her human life preserver, and he tugged her to his side. Together they drifted to the end. Mojo or not, the man had chivalry way down deep in his bones and she fell a little more in like with him.

His palm fit nicely on her rear as he hoisted her onto the edge of the pool. Breathing heavily, she shivered. Not enough sun to warm the skin. A white towel appeared before her. She looked up.

Matthew grinned at her and presented her with the ray of sunshine she needed, then held out a hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Thanks. That’s very cold water in the morning.” She held on tight.

“Here, John, take my towel.” She dropped the thick cloth onto his lap and pivoted to sway with the motion of the ship to her lounge chair. After a purposely graceful sit, she lifted her finely turned legs onto the bench. To reduce stress, for the last two months, she’d been jogging, which had brought them into excellent form and deserving attention. She stretched and placed her arms behind her head. “I’m a naturalist. The sun will dry my skin.”

John plopped onto the bench, shaking the metal feet in the process and coughed as if he were an orator preparing to lecture.

Matthew knelt beside her, stroked the edge of her hand. “I have to log some hours, but I’ll see you around one. We’ll take the jog around the perimeter?”

“Looking forward to it.” She licked her lips, getting the chlorinated water from the surface, and then reached for her phone, needing to get a photo.

His focus remained on her mouth, the peaks, if she were to guess. The cupid’s bow always drew interest. “Umm, me too.”

“First Mate Taylor, you’re to report to the bridge.” A man’s deep voice resonated among the pipes decorating the top deck, where speakers had been cleverly camouflaged. The pool was nice, but it was surrounded by huge white cylinders, hiding people and spouting loud noises much of the time.

The announcement provided her an opportunity to get a shot of Matthew as he stood.

“I’ll see you later.” He winked and touched her skin again, above the knee, not quite on the inner thigh. Donor number one took off at a brisk pace.

John hadn’t said two words since the wave pool. She bent to put the phone in her bag, while trying to come up with a conversation starter. Upright again, he frowned, which made her reconsider. Maybe the comment had made him angry. Had he misunderstood her and thought she referred to the deflating effect chilled water had on men? Heat rushed to her face. Fact was, men’s penises did shrink in the cold and women’s nipples peaked, but she wasn’t bold enough to discuss the male anatomy.

“I saw you dancing last night. You’re very rhythmatic,” a guy said, his voice lifting at the end as if air was difficult to obtain.

Mary drew her attention from John and glanced at the speaker. Body builder, sun worshiper, thick neck, squinted blue eyes and one of his eye teeth crossed over the tooth in front of it. What a list. Was rhythmatic a word?

“Thanks. I’m Mary.” She smiled, but didn’t hold out her hand.

“Billy Martinson, 2009 winner of Verona Beach Body Building Contest.” He held his right arm in a typical muscle-man pose, exhibiting all the bulges in his upper bicep. Granted, he looked mighty fine, but she wanted brains, not a tight body. Of course, both would be a plus.

“That’s nice, Billy. Is that your occupation, body building?” She itched to get her notebook out. All research should contain both positive and negative values.

“Naw. I work at a tool and die in Verona. Ten years now.”

Yep, his hands had telltale burns or cuts from the machinery. Maybe he was paying his way through school.

“Interesting. I’m a Certified Bench Master Jewelry Designer, studied at the Charleston Jewelry Design Institute in South Carolina.” The gold latch on the side of her bathing suit bit into her side. She should snap it and get her back-up guy’s attention.

Billy, already on the edge of the lounge next to her, scooted the chair closer. He rubbed a finger across her hand and trailed the digits along her arm. “My studies are taken from life. I don’t need to get more book learnin’.”

Bile rose to her throat at his touch. Reaching for the suntan lotion in her bag, she met John’s gaze. He smiled a wicked little knowing grin. If only she could stick out her tongue in a childish way.

“I was wondering if you and I could take a swim, play a little in the waves.” Billy stood, providing her with his side view. The very tight blue spandex did nothing to hide his endowment. No amount of cold water would deflate that.

She shot her gaze to John. He winked, nodded toward the pool, and closed his eyes again.

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I promised First Mate Taylor I’d run laps with him in about an hour, so I’m going to have to get a little food in order to keep pace.” Wickedness rolled through her as fast as the waves in the pool. “John’s quite the swimmer, if you want a race.”

John’s eyes shot open, and his pupils dilated to be the size of Morgan Dollars, extra-large in their almond casings.

Mary shoved her sunglasses, diary, and sarong into the bag. Sandals on, she said, “See you later.”

“Wait, I’ll join you,” Billy shouted, drawing the attention of a new group of wave riders coming on deck.

“No, thank you. Bye.” She wove through the group of women, keeping hidden as much as possible, bypassed the elevator and ran down the stairs.

Her empty stomach gnawed. Holding the bag between her knees, she wrapped the cover-up around her. A quick glance in the glass case holding a fire extinguisher showed her hair was separating into chunks. She snagged a large toothed comb and a cloth-coated tie from inside the carry-all. As she raked her hair into some sort of order, she came to the conclusion she needed a haircut. Not just trimming off the splits, but a style, rather different, something to change her appearance and maybe hide her from Conrad. Now that she’d found where he’d stashed the diamonds, she guessed there was a ninety-nine percent probability he would stop at nothing to find her. She looped the sea air blown strands of hair into a knot and twisted the elastic band to hold the tail in place. He wouldn’t get her. She’d fight ’til the death.