Colin inclined his head toward the large and small yachts. “Fine boats you have there.”
“Ever been yachting, Se?or Douglas?”
“No,” Colin lied. “But I imagine fucking at sea is a pleasure.”
“That it is.” Marco looked up at the darkening sky. “How much longer do you plan to stay with us?”
“Only a day more, unfortunately. I need to get back to the gallery.” Colin’s pulse was thumping wildly under his skin as he waited, hoping for an opening of some sort.
Marco turned his back to the ledge and crossed his arms. “How about a boat ride in the morning? You, me, two of the girls—Angel of course.”
Colin held back a celebratory grin. “Sounds fantastic.”
A small smile lifted the edges of Marco’s mustache. Colin realized the man probably had an ulterior motive, just like he did. Something was on his mind, though Colin couldn’t figure out what. He’d have to be on his guard. He held out his hand and Marco shook it.
“You are a generous man, Se?or Ruiz. I cannot thank you enough.”
“I assure you, the pleasure has been mine.”
Hm. What was this sneaky fucker up to?
Marco left Colin as he stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby tall ashtray, and lit another. His brain went on overdrive, playing out possible situations for tomorrow. He wondered how many men Marco would bring for protection. Every detail was important.
He spent the rest of the evening devising multiple plans based on the many possibilities, until he felt a surge of confidence.
Tomorrow was the day.
The bodyguard Luis was waiting for Colin outside his door the next morning, ready to escort him to the smaller boat. It was a bright morning. Colin slid his sunglasses into place and ran a hand over his freshly shaven jaw as they boarded. Marco was waiting for him at a table under a shaded overhang at the boat’s rear. Colin’s heart banged when he spotted the two slave girls kneeling at his sides in bathing suits and oversized sun hats. It took him a moment to recognize Angela, and he had to smile as he walked over.
Her blonde hair was hidden under a shoulder-length black wig. It was high quality, and paired with the hat, she was quite stunning. Her skin was pale and creamy, contrasting with the bronzed glow of Perla’s. Though Angela’s head was down, Colin caught the look of complete contentment on her face. It made his breath catch, and his chest swell. He wondered how a girl in her predicament could find that kind of peace when he never could.
He sat across from Marco and admired the breakfast spread.
“Coffee?” Marco asked.
“Please.”
Marco nodded down at Angela, who came up on her knees to pour both men steaming black coffee from a porcelain carafe before returning to a kneeling position.
As the boat pushed off, the men ate in comfort, occasionally feeding their women bites of fresh berries and pineapple. Colin lounged, but his eyes took in everything. As far as he could see, only one bodyguard was with them. Luis stood to the side with his arms crossed. And then there was the captain driving the boat. He waited for others to appear from below, but none did. Was it possible that he’d earned this suspicious man’s trust?
Marco didn’t appear to be armed. Luis had two visible guns at his waist. He spied ropes for various uses on the vessel, and an emergency ax in a glass compartment. All things he could use if needed.
When they finished eating, Perla and Angela cleared the table. The boat moved at a pleasant speed, causing just enough warm wind to encompass them.
Marco stood and led them to the bough of the boat, overlooking the glimmering blue-green waters. Colin watched him sit on the white cushions and pull Perla to his lap. Her hands ran through the back of his hair and down over his shoulders. Colin pointed to the corner seat of the cushions and Angela obediently sat. He nestled himself between her legs with his back to her chest, and was rewarded with the feel of her calves as they wrapped around his hips. He leaned lazily back against her as if he owned her.
As if she were his.
That thought went straight to his cock and he swallowed hard. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand, but she addled his fucking brain. Because if he was being honest with himself, he wanted her. He wanted every day with her, to learn her, to feel her, to make her happy.
Fuck.
He’d never felt that for a woman, and this was definitely not the time to start. She wasn’t his and she never would be. This was a game. A job.
When Colin turned his head, he caught that same look of ease on Angela’s face as she held the top of her hat one with one hand and stroked up and down his shoulder and bicep with the other. She stared out at the Mediterranean. Colin tried to memorize her like that so he could paint this image someday—her black hair and all.
Marco rested his hands behind his head and leaned back, eyeing Colin as if he had something to say. Colin waited patiently, and it paid off.
“What will you do without your muse when you return to work, Se?or Douglas?”