I glowered at her, anger rising a little that she’d conned me. She’d cheated. But then again…wasn’t that the point?
She cheated on her past with happiness. She stood there smiling in a way she’d never smiled before. And the new life in her sombre eyes drowned out my annoyance like a pinch to a matchstick flame.
I couldn’t discipline her or tell her she couldn’t go around kissing potential marks to distract them from the crime. I couldn’t march toward her and grab her and fuck her in reward for using her surroundings to win—just like I’d taught.
All I could do was shake my head and accept that she’d broken my rules and schooled me. Aching with need and smouldering with lust, I threw my head back and laughed.
THAT WAS THE first day but definitely not the last that Elder broke my proverbial chains and taught me how to smile again.
After we almost kissed and I stole the wallet, his captain arrived and dragged him off to discuss the impending storm on the horizon. Elder had looked at me for the first time with reluctance.
My heart skipped with heat. He was as against the idea of leaving me as I was him going. Whatever had made us pay attention to each other back at Alrik’s sprang into full authority, tangling us in budding friendship and desire.
He’d stalked toward me and for a second, I’d wanted to kneel at his feet and give him permission to unleash the lust painted all over him. For the first time, I would submit—not because I wanted to, but because he hurt and I didn’t like him hurting—not after everything he’d given me.
Once again, I wanted to use sex to repay him because that was all I had of value. But even if I did, even if I locked myself tight and gave him the use of my body, he wouldn’t take it.
He’d call me a whore and I’d never let him utter such filth again.
Stopping in front of me, he’d snatched the wallet from my fingers, removed the one-hundred dollar note and deliberately stuffed it into his pocket.
I’d failed to steal with secrecy but I didn’t care about the money.
I had something much more treasured. I had a newfound lightness—a more comfortable existence in this world.
His hand had soared upward and didn’t stop until it connected with my cheek.
We’d frozen at the contact. His palm comforted me in a way touch never had before, and I’d pressed into him for the barest of heartbeats.
Then he’d gone to deal with whatever nature had in store for us.
Alone on the deck with a smeared watercolour of baby blue and black above, I’d returned to my room to combat the sudden loneliness he left me with.
Now, an hour after my pickpocket lesson, I relaxed on my balcony. Goosebumps from the cold wind replaced the goosebumps caused by playing with Elder. The ocean hovered beneath a thick grey blanket with churning white caps. I didn’t understand how the sun could be banished so quickly in favour of such violence.
But I wasn’t worried.
The Phantom was sturdy, and Elder was a perfectionist. If I had to be at sea in a storm, there was nowhere safer.
Ignoring my hair snapping around my ears in the breeze, I stroked the origami boat he’d made. I’d scooped it up when I’d entered my suite, needing to hold something of his. An insatiable need to touch him again after I’d squirmed in his arms only an hour ago consumed me.
Another howling gust whipped off the horizon, fluttering the corners of the green money in my hands. The ferocity threatened to tear it from my grip.
My fingers tightened as fear of dropping the little boat increased with every bluster.
Returning inside, I locked the balcony doors and settled on the couch. Already, the normal swell-lullaby of the yacht had been replaced with a choppy rock and yaw.
I settled in to ride it, and was glad of the interruption a few hours later when dinner was served. Along with the maid, two men entered my suite to check the moorings on my table and furniture before nodding respectfully and heading out.
I ate pumpkin fettuccine and vanilla panna cotta even though mild seasickness took hold. As rain lashed at my windows, I did my best to keep my thoughts positive and not let the rapidly deteriorating weather worry me.
I kept staring at the door, hoping Elder would come like he had this morning, but I had no more visitors.
By eight p.m., the water world was no longer below us but all around us. Torrential rain hammered, splashes of fresh liquid mingling with salt in a washing machine churn.
I stayed where I was on the couch, cross-legged and riding the waves, clutching my origami boat in one hand and my bronze genie lamp in the other.
My positivity turned pessimistic, and my muscles were already tired from fighting to stay upright. My healing body was not equipped for a rodeo this soon.
Elder never visited, but he did call around nine p.m.
I’d never received a phone call in my suite, and it took me a moment to figure out where the ringing came from.
Picking up the receiver, I tensed and melted in equal measure as his heady voice licked into my ear. “Sorry, I never came back. It’s been a rough day navigating. The storm is too wide. There is no way we can sail around it. Tonight will be bad.”
I opened my mouth to reply, two years of silence deleted by a mere phone call. The memory of what to do when holding such a device begged me to speak.
But I swallowed it back.
Not because of the stupid bet, but because I liked whatever was growing between us, but was still wary enough not to trust it.
“I know you won’t reply, so this will just be a one-sided conversation. I won’t be around tonight. I’m staying on the bridge. Don’t go wandering around. Have a shower now if you want before it gets too choppy then get into bed and don’t leave. By Jolfer’s estimate, the worst of the squall will hit in a few hours. If you get sick, there are bags in the bedside table. I’ll come for you in the morning once we’re through.”