Roxanne St. Claire - Make Her Pay

“Wait.”

Surprise darkened her amber eyes. “What?”

“How was your excursion?” Dumb question, but he didn’t want her to leave.

She smiled, almost as though she got that, but behind him Alita cleared her throat and Lizzie’s gaze slid past his shoulder.

“We’re just about done,” he said softly.

She flicked a playful finger at his unbuttoned shirt. “I see that.”

“Don’t leave.” He still held her elbow and gave it a squeeze. “I want to talk to you.”

She slipped out of his grip, her gaze skimming his face, stopping at his mouth, then going back to his eyes. “Stop by later.”

“I will.”

“On one condition,” she added. “Bring your phone.” She mouthed the last three words so Alita didn’t hear.

She headed away slow enough that he could watch the sway of her faded jeans, a siren call of a backside he’d already seen in the flesh, and wanted to see more.

He turned his attention to Alita, wondering how quickly he could get rid of her.

She was on his makeshift cot, thumbing through The Odyssey .

“Color me impressed, Constantine.”

“Don’t be.”

She laughed, leaning back on two hands, letting her sizable rack jut forward, a toss of thick black hair completing the come-on.

He reached for Alita’s hand and her eyes sparked, but then she realized he was helping her up from the cot. “And I need to get back to reading.”

“You’re kicking me out.” There was a note of surprise in her voice. She probably didn’t get turned down too often.

“Thanks for the cake.”

She gave his hand a little squeeze and sent a regretful look at the closet where he’d locked the medallion, confirming that she wanted it, or a picture of it, as much or more than she wanted him.

Could she be the traitor?

“Hope you’re just as lucky tomorrow,” she said as she headed out. “Brady said he’ll make strawberry cheesecake.”

“I’ll do my best, but Lizzie found that medallion.”

“Yeah, right.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Lizzie never finds anything,” she said, stepping out into the hall. “Since we’ve been on this dive, she comes up empty-handed every time. Then she goes down with you and, bam, she brings up the best recovery of the trip so far. You were a sweetheart to let her have credit for it.”

“Maybe I’m good luck.”

Or maybe she wasn’t showing her finds to the crew. Maybe she was slipping them into her weight belt when no one was watching. And then maybe she was contacting someone who secretly met her at night and she handed them off. Maybe he’d better get up to her bunk, now.

“Well, I’d like to dive with you tomorrow,” Alita said. “So I can rub up against some of your luck.”

“That’s up to Dave, I suppose.”

Even after he closed the door, he could hear her footsteps on the stairs. He waited long enough for the sound to disappear, for Alita to go into her bunk, or maybe up to the main deck where some of the crew was watching a movie and eating cake.

He retrieved Lizzie’s phone from the hiding place, then slid it into the pocket of his jeans next to his own.

Locking the entry with a new dead bolt he’d installed, not bothering with shoes, he moved soundlessly up the stairs to the quarters deck, paused to make sure the hall was empty, then took a few long strides to her door.

One tap, and it was open.

“That was fast,” she said, then she peeked around him. “Or did you bring your new girlfriend?”

He grinned. “Stop, or I’ll think you’re jealous.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped back, letting him in.

“You cleaned up,” he said, looking around. It wasn’t exactly pristine, but he could see more surfaces than before.

“That’s why I need your phone,” she said, holding her hand out. “I lost mine. I need to use yours to call it. And don’t even think about giving me shit for having one. We all signed papers, and I bet half the crew has them.”

“Who’s so important that you’d trust me with your secret?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

“My sister. I have to check on her.” The answer was guileless, and, if his gut was correct, honest.

“What’s wrong with her? Is she sick?”

“She’s alone, that’s all.”

“How old is she?”

“Twenty-six.”

He laughed. “And no babysitter?”

She snagged the phone he offered and dropped on the bunk. “I just like to talk to her every day. We’re all we’ve got now.”

“You can call her from that, if you like.”

“That’s okay. I just want to find my own phone.”

Normally he’d have dialed, not wanting her to see how advanced the phone was, but he needed her to look at the keypad. When she did, he surreptitiously slipped her cell phone from his pocket and flicked it under the blanket.

In a second, the bed vibrated with a soft hum.

“Oh, thank God,” she said on a sigh of relief. “How in the heck did it get under there?”

“You should try making your bed.”

“We all have our flaws.” She lifted the sheets and blankets and dove halfway under them as she sought the source of the vibrating. She glanced up from the sheet cave, shaking her head a little as she looked at his exposed chest. “Well, some of us do, anyway.”

He smiled at the compliment. “I have plenty of flaws, believe me.”

“Faults, maybe.” She whipped her hand up, victoriously producing the phone. “But flaws? You have none. You’re great looking, have a charming personality, an excellent diver, and you share the wealth and credit with your crewmembers. You even worried about my burns before yours last night.”

“Yet you were ready to think the worst of me when you saw Alita Holloway in the lab.”

She nodded. “I was, but since you came to my phone rescue so quickly, I believe you can add ‘avoiding her charms’ to your list of attributes.”

“If you’re not careful, you’re going to start to like me.”

“Don’t worry. Won’t happen.”

He laughed softly. “Why not?”

“Because I’m…” She trailed off as if she’d said too much.

“You’re what?” He trailed a finger up her arm to coax her. “Why don’t you finish that sentence?”

“I don’t want to.” She looked at her phone again. “I wish I could trust you, though,” she said softly.

“Because you have secrets, don’t you?”

“Everybody has secrets.”

Bracing his arm behind her, he leaned closer. “Tell me yours.”

For a second, he thought she would. Then she jerked away, pushing herself up from the bed, but he grabbed her arm.

“Never mind,” he said reassuringly. “I’m not interested in your secrets.”

She settled back on the bed, not quite as close, but near enough for Con to feel her warmth. “You’re interested in something,” she said, eyeing him. “I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but you’re after something.”

“Two guesses, Lizzie.” He let his gaze drop to her mouth, brushed a curl out over her cheek, and kept his eyes open so he could watch hers close as he kissed her. “First one doesn’t count.”

THE CONTACT WAS so light, Lizzie was more aware of sweet, warm breath than the feel of his mouth. Her eyes began to close but his didn’t, so she fought the urge to sink in to the kiss. Instead she held his eye contact, as electrifying as his mouth, as sexual and sensual as anything she’d ever felt.

Silver blue. Intense. Locked on her.

He angled his head slightly and added an infinitesimal amount of pressure, just enough to make it a real kiss and send a wave of warmth from her mouth to her… everywhere.