Harold jumped out, landing lightly on the dock, and moved to tie off the bowline and stern. His onshore security team moved with their usual precision—efficient, silent—but Alexandros barely noticed. His world had shifted, and all of it now centered on one dripping, defiant woman.
But, Dani noticed. His lips curved into a grin when she muttered under her breath,‘It’s like living in a glass jar’,and rolled her eyes.
She uncoiled slowly, untying the gown from around her waist and holding it out to him like a dead jellyfish. He took it without a word as he tried to shield her body from his security detail. She ignored him and everyone else, tugging the towel from around her shoulders.
“Turn around,” he ordered harshly in Greek, scowling at the men who quickly followed his order.
“It’s a little late for modesty. Besides, my underwear cover more than most of the dresses at that fancy party you’re throwing,” she drawled as she wrapped the damp towel around her waist and secured it with a firm tuck. “See, all better.”
It wasn’t. Her nipples strained against her top, hard pebbles that made him grit his teeth. He unfastened his dress shirt and yanked it off. She started when she realized what he was doing. She was even more startled when he took her boots from her and slid her arms into his shirt before buttoning it up.
“You’ll be cold,” she muttered, her voice husky.
He swallowed a low groan when she ran a slender finger down his sternum. His jaw clenched when she wound a finger in his chest hair and tugged it.
“Yep, you’ve got goosebumps,” she teased, her finger trailing lightly down his chest. “Even your nipples are hard.”
Self-combustion. That’s what is about to happen to me,he thought, his gaze locking with her teasing ones.
He stroked her cheek. “You are playing with fire,mikroula mou,” he warned.
“Just making sure you didn’t suffer any injuries from your adventure,” she teased.
He swallowed when she bent, her head moving down as if to?—
He groaned at his wayward thoughts and watched with glittering eyes as she picked up her boots. Her waterlogged footwear landed with a thud on the dock before she used Demetrius’s turned shoulder as support and climbed out of the boat ahead of him.
Before he could follow, she spun to face him, planting her feet like she was defending sacred ground. The towel slipped a little, so she cinched it again around her waist. Her cheeks heated when he followed her movements. She shot him her best, fierce expression.
“You stay,” she ordered, lifting her hand to stop him. “This part of the rescue ends here. I appreciate the shoulder, and the shirt, but as the saying goes, all good things must end. And darlin’, this thrilling little adventure is definitely over.”
She flashed him an amused grin. He had no doubt that she knew perfectly well the effect she was having on him—and enjoyed every second of the torture she was inflicting. His mermaid was warning him to stay away.
That will never happen,he vowed, returning her gaze with a promise of his own reflected in his.
He loved the way she swallowed and lifted her chin. His challenge was being accepted whether she realized it or not.
“You can give Vito back the dress. Remind him that my tool bag is to be returned with all tools present and accounted for, or he will truly regret his actions. I’ll be sending him an invoice. I suggest he pay it if he doesn’t want me dismantling every engine he owns.”
“Message received. Now, may I disembark?” he dryly requested.
She shook her head and pointed outward. “Vito’s that way—and so are my tools.”
He arched a brow. “You’re refusing to allow me to exit my boat?”
“Yes—because you’ve got a message to deliver. Once that’s done, what you do is none of my business,” she said.
“Ah, yes, I remember. The threatening message—for Vito. Got it,” he replied, his lips twitching at her audacity.
“Yeah. Plus, I don’t trust you.”
His brow furrowed. “For heaven’s sake, why not? I just risked my life trying to save you!”
“First, I didn’t ask for you to save me. I could have swum here without you slowing me down. Second, you offended me. I don’t like guys who offend me.”
“And how did I offend you?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“By assuming I could be bought. Honestly, you couldn’t afford me. I’m worth a hell of a lot more than five hundred measly thousand, trust me,” she retorted.
