Chapter 41
There were storm clouds gathering above us as we walked down the dock towards the yacht. Not yacht – superyacht. And it was glowing like a floating mansion.
Cam whistled behind me. ‘I’ve never been on a yacht like this.’
‘I’ve been on a few,’ I said casually. I looked up at the sky as a flash of lightning cut across it. A storm was definitely brewing.
‘So your job takes you around the world, does it?’ he asked. It was a strange question when I was sure he knew the answer already.
‘It takes me wherever it takes me,’ I replied.
‘Hard to hold down a relationship, I imagine?’
I turned and looked at him. ‘I’m sure I could say the same about you.’
‘My last two relationships failed because of it. I travelled too much. Long hours, unpredictable, no weekends . . . you know how it goes.’
‘Not really,’ I said, and started walking again.
‘Surely it’s happened in your relationships too.’
‘I don’t have relationships.’
‘What?’ He jogged to catch up with me. ‘You don’t have relationships?’
‘Nope.’
‘Is this a new thing, or . . .’
‘It’s an all-the-time thing. I haven’t had and don’t have relationships.’ I was getting a little irritated with this incessant line of questioning.
‘What?’ He grabbed my elbow, which brought me to a grinding halt. ‘You haven’t had a relationship since college?’
‘No.’
‘Not one?’
‘Well, I would hardly call what we had a relationship.’
‘What about sex?’ he asked, and I burst out laughing.
‘Cam, I’m not a nun. I’ve had . . . arrangements with people over the years.’
‘And do these people know they’re just “arrangements”?’ he asked, looking at me with a mixture of . . . what?
‘I always tell them, but—’
‘They don’t get the memo?’ he said, cutting me off.
‘Exactly.’ I clicked my fingers at him.
‘So basically you have relationships but don’t actually think you’re having relationships?’
‘They are not relationships.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Why do people keep insisting they are? Besides, relationships never work.’ I started walking again.
‘We’d work,’ Cam said, which obviously brought me to another grinding halt. ‘We’ve been together, what, almost a week, and this is honestly the best relationship I’ve ever had.’
‘It isn’t a real relationship.’
‘It isn’t fake either. And you know it,’ he said quietly.
‘You’re very presumptuous.’
‘No, I’m not. You’ve never been able to hide your feelings from me. Even when you try. Not very Vulcan of you.’
‘Well, I did tell you I’m a Klingon, and if you carry on talking like this, I might have to challenge you to—’
‘A veS,’ he said suddenly. I blinked at him in surprise. ‘Told you I got into Star Trek after you left.’
‘So I see.’ I was taken aback that he knew the Klingon word for battle.
‘Like I said, it reminded me of you.’
‘P’tak,’ I said, a Klingon swear word, to break the moment.
Cam laughed, and I started walking again. This time he didn’t jog to keep up, but he did whistle again.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said. ‘It’s a nice boat. I get it.’
‘That’s not what I’m whistling at this time,’ he said, and his tone told me exactly what he was referring to. But I decided I wanted to hear him say it out loud anyway, so I turned around and faced him.
‘And what exactly are you whistling at?’
He smiled. ‘Anyone ever told you what a hot ass you have?’
I smiled, swung around again and kept walking. ‘Yes, many people.’
‘God, dagger to my heart. How many?’
‘Like I said, Cam, I’m not a nun. Trust me, you’re not the last person who saw it.’
‘But I bet I’m the last person who spanked it.’ His words brought me to yet another abrupt halt. ‘The last person who left a red handprint across it. Tell me, were the others able to keep up with you? Did they know how to handle you, know how you like it a little . . . rough?’
That word sent a thrill through me. The memory of that night, the little marks we left on each other, as if we’d been wrestling while we fucked. I thought of being sarcastic, saying something flippant. But we seemed to be getting beyond that.
‘No. They didn’t keep up with me, and no, they didn’t know I like it . . . rough,’ I said, and then carried on walking.
We finally reached the yacht, and I was surprised to see it full of people. Music, laughter and the sound of high-end crystal champagne glasses clinking together filled the air. Amber flitted between groups, her camera phone out, smiling, shooting TikToks. Who were all these people anyway?
Victor was playing the loud, gregarious host, shaking hands, slapping backs and telling stories with a politician’s grin and a pompous voice.
Where the hell had all these people come from?
Surely he hadn’t befriended the entire island in a matter of days?
It didn’t matter though, because lots of people made it easier for us. Easier to slip away unnoticed.
A waiter wafted past with a tray of cocktails. Cam grabbed two and passed one of them to me.
I shook my head. ‘Working.’
‘We need to drink to blend in. Look around.’
I looked. Every single person had either a cocktail or a glass of champagne in their hand. I nodded at Cam and then brought the drink to my lips. He did the same, all the while staring at me over the rim of his glass.
‘What?’
‘We haven’t done things like this before. We spent so much time together, but only at the academy. We’ve never gone for a drink, hung out socially, done something normal.’
I looked around pointedly. ‘Normal? We’re undercover on a superyacht, about to search through the possessions of a possible diamond smuggler and money launderer, while a hit man may or may not kill him, or us for that matter. I would hardly call this normal.’
Cam laughed, which made his drink wobble.
Some of it spilled over his hand, and he immediately brought it to his lips and licked it off.
Suddenly everything seemed to happen in slow motion once again.
His lips on his skin, the tip of his tongue grazing it, his mouth closing over the liquid, the sucking sound. I stared.
‘See something you like?’ he asked, which turned my staring into a very rapid blink.
I’d been caught, no point in denying it. ‘Maybe. And you?’
‘And me what?’
‘Anyone been able to keep up with you? Know you like it a little rough too?’
There was a shift in Cam’s demeanour now. He took my cocktail from me and put it down on the tray of a passing waiter, along with his own glass.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked as he took a step towards me.
‘Getting rid of all the distractions so I can tell you something important. So you’ll always remember it.’
‘What?’ I felt uneasy, but also somewhat intoxicated by this strange change in mood.
‘You ruined it for me, Lizzy.’
‘Ruined what?’
‘Sex. Intimacy. Relationships. You set the bar so high, no one else has ever come close.’
The words made my stomach plummet, like an anchor thrown overboard, tumbling to the very bottom. For a moment, the world seemed to tilt, or was that just the yacht? I didn’t know, but something happened that caused me to move closer to him.
I wasn’t supposed to be having these moments with Cam, but they seemed to keep happening more and more frequently. I could feel my resistance crumbling – or had it crumbled already?
‘There you guys are!’ Amber’s cheerful voice cut through the moment. ‘I’ve been waiting for you! Thought maybe my bestie had fallen overboard or something!’ she teased, pulling me into a warm, slightly tipsy hug. ‘You guys have to let me give you a tour of the yacht!’ she chirped.
Cam and I exchanged a look. Did she know what she’d just done for us? Basically handed us exactly what we wanted on a silver platter.
‘We’d love that,’ we both said at the same time, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
‘Great!’ Amber linked arms with me and led us towards a door. But just as we were about to go inside, I felt someone watching me. The feeling was an icy one. I turned back to look, but there was no one there.
The first room we entered was a large, opulent dining area with a mahogany table so huge and shiny you could see yourself reflected in it. Not to mention all the gold. It was everywhere, and I mean everywhere!
‘Dining room.’ Amber waved a dismissive arm as she walked into the next room, a lounge with plush white sofas, ottomans and, of course, gold scatter cushions. ‘I like to hang out here,’ she went on with yet another dismissive arm flap.
As she led us down a staircase, some more casual commentary followed.
‘That’s the spa room – Victor has a masseuse on retainer. This is the media room. Oh, and that’s our suite right there.’
Just as she was about to walk us down another staircase, a crew member rushed up to us.
‘Excuse me, Miss Amber. Sorry to interrupt, but there’s an issue with the champagne delivery. We may not have enough.’
‘Oh God!’ Amber gasped. ‘You guys go ahead and explore if you want – I’ll catch up. This is a literal nightmare.’ She hurried off with the crewman, leaving us alone in the corridor.
Cam raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Well, that was very convenient.’
‘Too convenient.’
‘Master suite?’ Cam asked, and pointed at the door that Amber had shown us.
‘Definitely.’
Victor’s room was just as you would have imagined: large and lavish, gold and garish, perfect for a man with too much money. Cam closed the door behind us.
‘Five minutes, max,’ I said. ‘We can’t afford to get caught.’
‘Then we’d better get moving.’
We started rifling through drawers and cabinets.
We searched under folded clothes, tapped the walls looking for hollow spaces and secret doors.
We moved together in perfect synchronicity, going from one potential hiding place to another.
It was strange how we’d instantly fallen into the same rhythm; we hadn’t worked together in years, and yet it was as if our bodies remembered somehow.
I swept under the bed and then worked my way around the vanity, while Cam tackled the inside of the wardrobe. Then I heard it.
‘Got something,’ he said.