Rosh.
I walk along the deck of the ship in between the containers as the light fades. Dusk is the quietest time of the day here as everyone goes back to their cabins to prepare for dinner. Stace is still working and something is going on with him. He’s different to the first night we slept together. Something changed yesterday morning when he went to get me breakfast. Did he see me hit Stucco?
Fuck. Why did I do that? I nearly blew my cover.
I’m going to have to take Stucco out before he kills Stace or the plan is out the window.
I don’t need this shit.
I smile softly to myself as I get an image of Stace-beautiful, sexy Stace. The only regret I have is that we didn’t meet under different circumstances like he said. If he wasn’t a murderer connected with this ship.
We are so good together. We could have had something. Damn it.
Right now, though, I need to focus on my task. I continue to walk slowly through the deserted deck. The sun is just dipping below the water line and light is fading fast. I look up at the numbers on the top of the containers as I walk between them all. Where is it?
I keep walking and walking. I thought I saw it over here the other day. I stop on the spot and look back from where I came, and then forward. It’s like a puzzle memory game. Everything looks the same. I thought it was over here near this red one and I go back over toward that direction. There it is.
1140
My eyes glance around to see if anyone has spotted me, but I don’t think they have. I quickly dart across the alleyway in the shadows and pick up the padlock and inspect it. It’s just a normal key.
Right.
I narrow my eyes as I think. I need to get into the control center to find that key cupboard. But how will I do that?
Stace is in there now.
I can pretend to go visit him? Yes, why not?
Within five minutes I am at the bottom of the stairs of the control center and knocking on the door. No answer. I knock again as I look up at the windows above. Hmm, maybe he has gone for the night? I wait for a few more minutes. Bloody hell, this was the perfect opportunity to get in there while nobody else was around.
I knock one last time.
“What are you doing?” a stern voice from behind me commands my attention.
I jump in fright and turn to see Jack, Angela’s man, standing behind me.
“Oh, hi.” I smile. “I was looking for Mac. Do you know if he’s in here?”
He opens the door with his key. “Yeah, I think so. Come in.”
Great. “Okay, thank you.” I follow him up the stairs and we get to the top level to a large computer room with machines, computers, and workstations everywhere. My eyes find him across the room as he sits at his desk, and when he looks at me I feel myself melt a little. It’s been a long day without him.
Stop it.
Wearing a high visibility work shirt and navy blue cargo pants, his sandy blonde hair hangs over his forehead. Those chocolate eyes and square jaw melt me. How is any woman on Earth supposed to block this out? Even in work clothes and steel capped boots, he looks orgasmic.
Christ almighty. Focus.
“Hello.” I smile, secretly hoping he will rush to take me in his arms.
“Hi,” he murmurs before turning back to his computer. My heart drops and I stand nervously waiting for his instruction. God, this isn’t going to work at all.
“Mac, did you see that email?” Jack asks. “I came back to make sure you did.”
“Which one,” he replies, distracted.
“Vikinos is flying in on the 29th.”
Macs eyes fly up to Jack and then to me… Shit.
“Rosh can you give us a minute?” he asks.
“Um, sure. Do you have a bathroom up here I could use?”
He frowns distracted. “Yeah, up the corridor to the left.”
“Thanks.”
I turn and walk up the corridor. Shit, I wanted to hear that conversation. The 29th. How many days away is that? I don’t even know what fucking day it is. I scan the office for a key board or something. Nothing. I walk up the corridor and see two offices. I bite my lip and turn back toward the men. Can they hear me if I open this door?
Shit.
I slowly open the door and it’s empty except for staff lockers. I move onto the next room and open the door. My mouth drops open.
Bingo.
The whole back wall is a board with keys that have numbers above them.
Shit, shit, shit, I’m going to get caught. I quickly scan for the one I want.
Where is it? Where is it? My eyes dart around frantically, and finally, on the bottom right corner, I find the first one and then the other.
* * *
1140 and 1289
* * *
I take the keys and I walk back to the door and look back.
Damn it.
It is blatantly obvious that the top key is missing. What do I do? My eyes widen. I know. I take out my room key and quickly slide it from its key ring and put it onto the hook below the number 1140. The second key is not so noticeable as it is on the top row. I then slide the container key onto my room key ring… nobody will ever know.
I slip out of the room and then duck into the bathroom. I sit on the toilet with an over the top smile on my face.
James Bond, eat your heart out.
* * *
He lies next to me in bed as he reads his book. The room is darkened, lit only by the lamp by the bed. It’s 10pm and he’s in boxer shorts and a t-shirt. I am showered and smelling like soap, naked, yet he hasn’t even looked in my direction.
He’s different.
Something has changed.
Two days ago I couldn’t fight him off me if I tried. Now… nothing.
“That Divinci Code must be an interesting book, hey?” I ask.
“Very,” he murmurs as he turns the page without looking up.
“I wouldn’t know.” I pause as I try to get him to look at me. “I’ve never read it.”
He rolls his tongue in his mouth as if thinking, but doesn’t answer.
I turn on my side and put my hand behind my head to lean up on it as I purposely let the blankets drop to reveal my breasts.
He catches the side of his bottom lip in his teeth as if trying not to react, but still doesn’t flinch.
What are you doing, asshole?
“I’m not tired,” I announce.
“Read a book.” He gestures to a box filled with books under his desk.
I roll my eyes and get up out of bed. I’m naked and I purposely bend over and slide the box out with my behind towards him. I can see him in the bathroom mirror behind me and his eyes rise to watch me, although he pretends not to.
I smirk. I sit on the floor and start to go through the books. I read the titles out loud.
“The Devil in Silver by Victor LaValle. The October Country by Ray Bradbury. Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. Last Days by Brian Evenson.”
I curl up my lip in disgust. “This is your reading style?” I frown.
He glances up. “I like horror.”
I widen my eyes. “Boring.”
His jaw ticks in annoyance. “What do you like to read?”
I purposely bend over, revealing my naked ass. “I like raunch.”
“Figures,” he replies as he flicks the page angrily.
I put my hand on my hip. “Why would that figure?”
“Because you’re a sex maniac.”
I smirk. “Can you tape that please and show it to my ex-boyfriends.”
“Why would I do that?” he replies flatly.
“Because they all complained that I hated sex.”
His eyes rise from his book as if suddenly interested. “Did you?”
“With them?” I ask.
He nods.
“Pretty much.”
His eyes hold mine. “Do you hate it with me?”
“You’re the first man I have enjoyed it with.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know.” I pause for a moment. “Maybe because I know we can never amount to anything and I have to say goodbye to you soon.”
We stay still as we stare at each other, the air crackles between us.
“You go alright for someone who supposedly hates sex,” he murmurs.
“It’s easy once you find a man who knows what to do.” He raises a brow. “You know how to make me ache for it.”
He readjusts his length beneath the blankets. “Ache for it?” he questions.
“God, I ache for it,” I breathe.
“It?”
“You, Stace. I ache for you.”
He grabs his cock through the blankets and his haunted eyes hold mine.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the enemy.”
“Are you?”
I frown. Why is he talking in riddles?
“I suppose so. I am someone you took against their will who is now…” I trail off. I don’t understand this myself.
“Who is what?”
“Who only feels safe when she is in your arms and I know that’s wrong.” He frowns. “I’m going fucking crazy.” I throw the book back into the box in disgust. “I feel sick when I hear myself say it out loud.”
“I make you sick?” he asks.