Dollars (Dollar #2)(34)



My heart did a weird pole vault dismount. I couldn’t decide if it was a death roll or a somersault of expectation. Either way, Elder had somehow gotten under my skin without even being here.

The helicopter hovering over the stern of the ship was deafening even with the constant hum of boat engines. Leaving my spot on the balcony, I padded naked across my bedroom to head upon deck and witness the arrival of the man who called me his.

I cracked open my door and came eye to eye with a young steward vacuuming the corridor, I looked down at my state of undress. He gaped like a mouth-breathing idiot, and, as much as it amplified my discomfort to wear clothing, I had to start accepting the habit for other’s sake.

Closing the door, I headed to the wardrobe and selected the oversized black dress I’d worn to dinner. Holding my breath, I slipped it over my head. Fighting the disgust as the soft cotton cocooned me, I pulled out my hair and let it drape down my back, hopefully hiding some of the whip marks and heavy scars left there permanently.

Now suitable, I left my suite and headed down the corridor to the lift. Once the mirrored elevator arrived, I pressed the top button for the outside deck and waited impatiently, pressing my tongue on the roof of my mouth, activating a tiny sliver of sensation.

A few levels higher, the lift spat me out on a glass-fronted walkway. I left springy carpet, and my toes kissed polished wood as I left inside for outside.

The helicopter was still winding down, its rotors barely still.

Crew dashed around, placing ropes and pulleys, strapping the machine to this mega water city. A few noticed me, one even waved, but no man with hair as black as nightmares and eyes as lethal as snipers appeared.

I waited to see if the cabin door would open, but squinting in the twilight, I saw only one person remaining: the pilot.

Elder had arrived and already vanished.

I didn’t let myself sigh with disappointment. Instead, I sucked in a breath and headed back the way I came. So what, I hadn’t seen him? What did I expect? That I’d welcome him home like some besotted lover? That he would want to see me after my desire to be left alone?

As the lift opened its maw, welcoming me into its belly, I changed my mind. I didn’t want walls and ceilings to swaddle me anymore. I wanted the wildness of the sea, the snap of the wind, and the freedom of air and sky.





I WOKE TO the strangest smell.

Something that reminded me of bad decisions and stupid teenage recklessness.

Sweet and pungent and wrong.

My eyes cracked as the caw of seabirds heading to roost echoed across the night sky.

Night?

When had it become so dark?

Unfurling myself from where I’d napped in a wrapped up lifeboat, I stretched. The canvas covering the boat made a perfect hammock; I’d commandeered it after forgoing the lift and staying up on deck. It was only supposed to be for a few minutes, but it seemed tiredness had other ideas.

I don’t remember falling asleep.

Chills scattered over my arm, coldness heavy in my blood.

A noise made my ears twitch as my nose wrinkled against the familiar sweet stench. Holding my breath, I looked over the side of my twilight hideaway.

There, haloed by deck lights and stars, was Elder. He stood with his elbows on the railing looking out to sea, one ankle cocked over the other. He wore black slacks and a cream shirt with the sleeves tugged to the middle of his forearms.

He looked powerful and refined, but all of that was a lie judging by the cigarette between his lips and the cloud of smoke dispersing overhead.

He smokes?

Why had I never smelt tobacco on him?

Another whiff of earthy flavour hit my nostrils.

Because it’s not tobacco.

Marijuana.

So he doesn’t drink, but he smokes pot?

Could there be any bigger contradiction?

“I know you’re there.” His voice was low but carried weighty on the breeze. “The captain informed me of a woman dressed in black sleeping in his lifeboat.” Turning around, he inhaled more smoke, grey fog slipping erotically through his lips. “I told him I’d check it out. Make sure we had no unwanted stowaways.”

I sat up, shifting to position myself on my knees.

My tongue was half the size it was the day he left but still tender as I fought a yawn and stared instead.

He followed my eyes.

“You can ask.” His face darkened. “In fact, if you open your mouth and ask me what I’m doing with marijuana, I’ll give you the honest to God’s truth. I’ll tell you more than I’ve ever told anyone just by asking that one question.”

Silence was heavy and potent between us.

What was his truth? Why hadn’t he told anyone? What secrets could he possibly be harbouring?

Attraction that I’d ignored webbed tight around us. He breathed hard as if afraid I’d take him up on his offer while part of him begged me to. “Go on. No one knows what I am, what I’ve done. You ask, and you’ll be the first and only.” He pressed the joint against his lips, inhaling deep. “You hold all the power in this situation, Pim. One little word and all my f*cking secrets are yours.”

My lips stretched to form the words, but my tongue sat heavy and unwilling. Shaking my head slightly, I looked away, doing my best to ignore the way the curling smoke from his mouth made me feel.

I never thought of smoking as sexy.

I’d grown up in an age where every establishment banned cigarettes and the culture turned it into a nasty, awful habit that was killing, not only them, but also their loved ones.

Pepper Winters's Books