Would it change anything if he knew the truth, or would he be even angrier because she hadn’t told him?—
“Halt!This is a private dock.”
A massive guard blocked her way.Dressed in black, he had to be one of Elijah’s men.His build alone confirmed her suspicion that theSeraphimwas more barracks than pleasure craft.
Keeping her voice low and level, she explained that Elijah Steel was expecting her.
“Name, ma’am?”
“Sable Alexandrovna.”
He checked his tablet, then waved her on with an unexpectedly warm “Welcome aboard, Ms.Alexandrovna”
Something flickered in his eyes as she turned to acknowledge him.Surprise?Respect?Was she overthinking?Perhaps he’d heard rumors about her relationship with Elijah.
He paused for a beat, then stepped aside to allow her to approach the gangplank.
She stared up at the few short steps she would have to take to enter Elijah’s world.It might as well have been a creaking footbridge over a crevasse.Firming her jaw, she took the first step.
A crew member in crisp whites waited at the top.“Ms.Alexandrovna.Commander Steel is expecting you.Permit me to escort you.”
Commander Steel?How appropriate.She almost smiled.
“Ms.Alexandrovna”
“Yes, of course.Sorry.I’m trying to take everything in.”
Her escort’s expression remained neutral.“Are you ready to move on?”
God help her, yes.
“Yes.Thank you.”
Elijah was a dangerous obsession, but some obsessions weren’t chains; they were oxygen, and she’d just taken her first free breath in a long time.
CHAPTERFOUR
His jaw tightened as Sable set foot on the deck.He was in his office onboard, one hip braced against the desk.Damn her for looking so small and vulnerable when he knew the opposite was true.
Against the vastness of his yacht, anyone would look small, he reassured himself.
But not so familiar.
Was that any surprise?They used to move like twin cogs in the same machine, seamless, balanced, unstoppable.
Seven years of believing her dead had ground that connection to dust.All he felt now was resentment.If she failed to convince him this mission was worth his attention, she could sort out her own fucking mess?—
“Sir?”
“A moment, please.”
The steward retreated.The quiet click of the door left him to contemplate a past he’d spent years burying.Sable moved as if she owned the ship.Head high, shoulders loose, her gaze scanning the corners the way they used to scan rooftops together.Every line of her body was a memory he’d tried to burn out of his blood.
Shifting position to ease the sudden pressure on the placket of his jeans, he let out a short, harsh laugh.Remembering how good they’d been in bed, or on a mission, was a pointless exercise.Seven years of iron control had taught him not to feel a damn thing.
Oh, yeah?Thirty seconds of Sable Alexandrovna on his deck had him hard enough to hammer steel.
Part of him admired her grit in coming to confront him?—
