She gagged again, spit it out in her hand, and instinctively flung the offending mess over her shoulder. A satisfying splat and a loud Greek curse followed.
She paused, just long enough to glance back—and burst into a short, snorting laugh.
Her furious stalker had just taken a direct hit to the face. Bits of caviar clung to the stubble on his cheek like glittering seaweed. His face was a mask of stunned disbelief even as the growing twitch in his jaw promised future consequences, but for now, Dani took the win.
“Sorry about that,” she said breezily. “Should’ve gone with the shrimp.”
With a snort of laughter, she turned and ran.
She launched herself down the curved steps leading toward the outer deck. The wind, which had picked up a little since earlier, caught at the loose folds of her gown. The thin material slipped down over her full breasts again, barely clinging to her curves. She gripped it, holding a death grip on the neckline. Her boots slapped against her thigh, still tied together and swinging like she was wielding a medieval flail.
The music faded behind her. The sea air hit her like a slap of reality—sharp, fresh, and warm against her damp skin. She stumbled off the last step and landed on the lower deck on her knees, wincing when they collided with the polished teak. Her breath came in bursts of short, hard gasps.
Ahead, the Mediterranean stretched out in endless indigo shimmer before her. The shoreline sparkled a few hundred yards away, like a promise she wasn’t supposed to reach.
TheKallistratos Challengewas no longer docked.
“Perfect,” Dani muttered, struggling to her feet. “Just… flipping… perfect.”
The opulent yacht was anchored offshore—probably to keep out party-crashers. The irony made her laugh, breathless and hysterical.
“Alrighty then,” she whispered, eyeing the lifeboat housing on the port stern. It was low enough. If she aimed right, she’d miss the propellers and not break a bone.
Hopefully.
She tugged the sagging gown up, gripping the hem in one fist and hoisting it above her knees. Her boots were still looped over her arm. She clutched them tighter, testing the jump with a glance and a deep inhale. She needed to move closer to the stern—and lower if possible.
“I’m not stupid,” she told herself aloud.
Well… not always.
But she was definitely daring.
Without waiting another second, Dani descended a second set of steps. Above her, she could already hear footsteps pounding toward her. Shouts. The thud of something—someone—hitting the wall she’d flown past.
Too late.
Dani landed with a soft thud on the lower deck, nearly toppling forward again as her feet hit the polished teak. She stumbled, righted herself, and pulled the red gown higher where it had slipped dangerously low, tucking it under her arm along with her boots.
The sea stretched out before her—dark, glittering, beautiful.
It would be a challenging swim to the dock. She calculated she could make it in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. She wasn’t worried about that. She could do twice that distance if pushed. The only thing that made her stomach clench was the thought of leaving her tool bag behind.
Her poor, beautiful baby. She had no idea where it was now.
Likely being used as a footrest by Vito or, worse, stuffed in a broom closet next to his ego.
“Stop! Now!”
The barked command sliced through the night, sharp and domineering.
Dani twisted, her breath catching as she took a slow step backward. Mesmerized by the thought of her escape, she had given her pursuer time to catch up with her. For a second, she wondered if she had done it on purpose—so she could see him one last time.
With an exasperated shake of her head at her wayward thoughts, she scowled and moved backwards. She curled her toes against the smooth deck as she turned to face her pursuer.
A shaft of moonlight illuminated his face—and she promptly decided she had made at least three poor life choices tonight, starting with accepting the job and ending with punching the wrong man.
Yep, I’m dead.
