Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(4)

My mouth dropped open. “Thank—”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest and lifted his chin. “Get healed up and you’re on probation. You can’t hack it, we send you back, and I’ll send a letter stating your condition when we found you and that your uncle was responsible. Maybe they’ll put you in foster care instead.”

“I can hack it. I promise. You won’t regret it.”

He nodded. “We’ll see about that.” He held out a hand and gripped my good one. “I’m Captain Isaac Marcos. This is my ship, the Fortuna. Welcome aboard, Jericho Forge.”





2





Forge





Present day





My business is my life. That’s one thing that never changes, no matter what. But today, I let myself get sidetracked. Because of her.

I never forget meetings. Especially not meetings when one of my business partners has flown halfway across the world to meet on my turf. Today, though, I did. Because of her.

India Baptiste—no, India Forge—is a distraction I didn’t predict, but only because I’m a fucking idiot. I can’t even remember the last time I went out of my way to make a woman smile or laugh, let alone change my plans for one. But I did today . . . because of her.

Stopping in Saint-Tropez meant screwing up my timeline, and to add insult to injury, I forgot my meeting with Creighton Karas.

I toss the keys of my tender to the valet at the pier. “Don’t move it. Don’t drive it. Don’t fucking touch it.”

The young blond Brit looks at me slack-jawed as he realizes who I am. “Yes, sir, Mr. Forge. Not a problem, sir. We’ll use the other dock for everyone else.”

“Good. I’ll be back in less than two hours.”

He nods again, his brows rising as I peel off a few hundreds from my money clip and hand them over. “Thank you, sir.”

As I walk away from the quay, I already want to loosen the tie from around my neck and head back out to sea. For years, I’ve spent more time on the decks of ships than I have on land, and I like it that way. On the deck of a ship in international waters, the captain’s word is law, and he might as well be a god. On land, there are too many variables shifting constantly. Like wives who smile at you like a hero when you cook her dinner.

The corner of my mouth tugs upward with a smile, and I wipe it away. She’s too fucking distracting.

As I approach Nobu, I push the vision away simply for the fact that I liked it too much. When I walk into the new hotel that’s certain to be a draw for celebrities on the island wanting to rub elbows with its famous owner, I find the concierge wringing his hands in the lobby and checking his watch.

“Mr. Forge, it’s a pleasure. Mr. Karas asked that I bring you right up.”

I nod. “Lead the way.”

Creighton Karas is one of my newest business partners. Three months ago, I formed a venture with him and Lincoln Riscoff, the heir to America’s largest timber company. Our goal was to bring a renewable energy solution to market that would revolutionize the way the shipping world does business. This is one more reason I need Russian steel to build more ships to house the new power production plants that will shock the planet and make all of us very rich men.

We’ve kept our plans completely silent, because we know as soon as the fossil-fuel industry gets word, corporate espionage will be out of control.

The concierge leads me through the lobby, with its sun-bleached reclaimed wood paneling and beige and blue tones of the Mediterranean, up the elevator to the penthouse.

“Forge. Good to see you. Thought you’d changed your mind about meeting me,” Karas says as he opens the distressed white wooden door on the second knock. The man is a couple of years younger than me, but I’ve always respected him. I wouldn’t have entered into this partnership with him and Riscoff if I hadn’t.

I reach out to take the hand he offers. “My apologies. I got caught up.”

We shake hands, and then he turns to hold out an arm to a stunning brunette crossing the room. “You remember my wife, Holly?”

“Of course. Mrs. Karas, it’s a pleasure.”

“Call me Holly. Crey might act all formal, but I don’t have time for that nonsense. I was just about to order some appetizers. Would you like anything?”

I think of the fish and lobster I left uneaten. I’ll make it up to India.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.”

She smiles at me and then walks toward her husband. “In that case, I’ll head out to the balcony and listen to the artist I’m scouting, and let you two boys talk business.” She reaches Karas’s side and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Don’t take too long.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Karas says, thrusting a hand into her hair to tilt her lips up toward his.

I cut my attention to the blue shimmer of the water beyond the balcony, not wanting to intrude on their private moment.

After Holly leaves the room, Karas walks to the bar and lifts a bottle of Seven Sinners whiskey. “You want one?”

“Absolutely.”

As he pours, he cuts right to the heart of the matter at hand. “How are the negotiations progressing with Federov?”