Oleg nodded to his boss’s victory. They conversed without a word and the bigger man gave another nod. He slipped the cue on the holder under the side of the table and made for the door.
“So, have you ever played snooker?” Alexei asked once the door closed behind his body guard.
“Is it like pool?” False innocence filled my voice. From what I’d seen watching his last match with Oleg, the rules seemed similar enough, but every good pool shark knew to play their abilities down.
“A little,” he replied and that slappable smirk bloomed.
The sun had dropped halfway to the horizon by the time I’d backed up my boastful thinking with action. The best two out of three became four out of seven. I won the fifth frame after it turned into the best out of nine, but it became best out of eleven after the next one.
Alexei never balked when I kept the match going. His smug smile faltered after I won two frames in a row but he came back harder the next one. Instead of giving in to my desire to slap the triumphant smirk from his face, I channeled it to the game and went on to win the next three.
As we traded shots, he kept up a steady stream of small talk interspersed with personal questions. I kept my answers short at the start, guarded. He was probing to learn more so he could beat me. Why help him? As I started to win, my tongue loosened. The competition remained on the table but not in our talk.
Alexei fell silent as we faced off in the thirteenth frame. His eyes narrowed at the layout of balls before he lined up the shot. If he sank the ball, he’d win the frame. I stood on the opposite side of the table, leaning on my cue.
The wrap I’d covered up in hung over the back of a nearby chair. When I’d laid it there a frame ago, the top button of my shirt had opened. I wasn’t above distraction. As he leaned in to make his shot, eyes that should have been focused on the table rose to me.
The cue balls struck the last red ball but it bounced at the edge of the hole. Alexei’s face pinched, flaring red but only for a moment. His head shook and he stepped away from the table with a wave.
I understood men like Alexei. They didn’t expect to lose. Watching as they experienced even a small loss could be telling. I marched around the table, thumping the butt end of the cue against the hardwood deck. His lips pressed together as I readied myself. He wouldn’t stoop to my level, use distraction. No, he wanted a worthy opponent, to savor the most satisfying of victories.
My cue ball hit the red one exactly where I aimed. It clattered into the corner pocket. My arm shot up, holding the cue aloft.
“Best of fifteen?” he asked, already pulling balls from the pockets.
So far, I’d been the one to ask for another round every time. Instead of agreeing like he had, I shook my head.
“Isn’t it about dinner time? Maybe we can play later,” I said, pausing for a fake yawn before I set my cue in its place.
Alexei froze, hand still in the corner pocket. No angry blotches appeared on his face, his expression didn’t pinch. He sighed and stepped back from the table.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said, pointing at the snooker table. “This isn’t over.”
As he led me out of the lounge to the galley in the next room, our easy conversation returned. Competitive as he was, he brought the match up more than once as we ate and tried to resume it right after, even asking as he escorted me back to my cabin in the dim running lights of the yacht near midnight.
The loss hadn’t sat well with Alexei, but he took it better than I would have. Hell, I took after my father in that regard. He lashed out at the mere thought of losing. Alexei wouldn’t rage when I got the upper hand. Learning that made it a productive day, fun even.
…
Less than a half hour after I awoke the next morning, I stepped out of my cabin fresh from the shower. I’d slipped on a dress Katie had made me bring along. Heck, she’d snuck it into my pile at the boutique we were shopping in after I’d decided against it. The sheer material barely reached halfway to my knees. When the light hit it just right, it might as well have been transparent. I wore the floral bikini, yet another garment Katie had insisted I try on, underneath to keep a modicum of modesty.
When I got out of this, I’d have to thank her for the fashion advice, among other things she’d shared…
I shook any images from our encounter the night before last out of my head and bound down the hallway. During my aborted escape attempt, I’d gone to the back of the boat, today I walked to the front. Alexei’s balcony overlooked the deck there. He’d probably want to thank Katie for the advice, too… once he saw me.
The sun shone down from a cloudless blue sky. A distant coastline, craggy mountains with tiny cities at the coast faded to the horizon the further to the left. Up ahead, the land grew closer, a sliver of water separating it from a small city on the other side. Red and white electrical towers jutted up near the water from either side. They were so tall I had to step out from under cover to see their full height.
“The pylons of Messina.” Alexei’s voice boomed from above. “You can climb the one over there.”
He stood on his balcony, shirtless with a towel wrapped around his neck. His wet hair spiked messily on top of his head. My fingers twitched as the desire to run my fingers through it and straighten the lopsided spikes hit me. Thankfully, his words pulled me away from the danger.
“Messina?” I asked and glanced between the two pillars and then the water in front of us. “So this is the strait of Messina and that’s Sicily?”
“Someone knows their geography,” he said, flashing the smile I had considered slappable yesterday; today other thoughts crept in. “We will be in Syracuse harbor in less than an hour.”
“Syracuse is on Sicily,” I replied.
“Someone really knows their geography.” The smile returned, more smug, which almost seemed impossible. “Care for some tea? I don’t want to spoil my appetite, so I wasn’t planning on any breakfast. Sicily is renowned for its street food, but there’s always time for tea.”
