Grave Destinations (13 page)

“I shouldn’t trust you.” Her voice sounded small, deflated. “It’s not part of who I am or what I do. But God help me, I want to.”

He stared at her for the longest time, torn over how to respond. Part of him wanted to offer comfort, while the other part wanted to shake her so hard her teeth rattled.

If he looked at things rationally, he could understand where she was coming from. Especially if the women’s cause of death mirrored the way the curse drained life from its victims. And if he wasn’t responsible, that meant there was another being on board using the ship as its personal hunting grounds. The idea left him cold inside. Still, he bristled at the knowledge that she’d carried enough doubt to confront him, to demand an alibi so she could eliminate him as a suspect.

“Come here,” he finally said, opening his arms in invitation.

She stepped into his embrace without hesitation, and the knot in his chest loosened.

“You make it so damn hard to stay angry.” The sultry scent of her filled his lungs, the press of her body sparking a hunger so intense it made his blood simmer.

She didn’t say anything, just snuggled against him, her cheek pressed against his bare shoulder, each exhale tickling the hairs on his chest.

“I need to know you believe I’m innocent.”

Ruby nodded.

“Say it.” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “Please.”

“I believe you, Jack.”

“Do you trust me not to harm you?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” The remaining tension uncoiled, leaving him with a strange combination of fatigue and arousal. With each passing heartbeat he became increasingly aware of the heat of her body, the silky softness of her skin. “So where does that leave us?”

Rising on her tiptoes, Ruby skimmed her lips over his mouth before sinking in for a deep, lingering kiss. Her mouth worked magic, tasting, taking, blanking his mind, and at that moment nothing else mattered. Not the demon, or the unexplained deaths, or the lack of trust he’d found disheartening. All he cared about was the here and now, and how to make it last forever.

This, he realized, was what he’d been missing. The spark of passion that only comes with emotional involvement. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself the luxury of caring about a woman outside the boundaries of carnal attraction. The idea was foolish. Reckless. And yet he found himself grasping for a means to make it happen. There had to be a way to harness the beast. Jolie had to be right. He just needed to look harder.

“It leaves us with a handful of memories and a lot of loose ends,” Ruby said after she eased her head back. She brushed a thumb across his lower lip, a crooked smile quirking her mouth. “And endless speculation. Although I’m fairly certain we would have scorched up the sheets.” She chuckled, but the humor failed to reach her eyes.

With a quiet sigh, she stepped away. A little light-headed, he watched as she walked toward the door, twisting her head back as her hand gripped the knob.

“Unfortunately, I have a duty to fulfill, which means I can’t play with you anymore.” Something dark flashed in her eyes, gone so fast it barely registered in his mind. Regret? Or disappointment? “But look on the bright side. In my experience, What If is usually much better than What Was.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” A huff of annoyance pushed past her lips. “As much as I’d love to test your endurance, I’ve got a job to do. Dmitri will tear my tail a new one if he catches me messing around with you while I’m on the clock.”

“I could help.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” He took a step forward and caution clouded her eyes. “If I could tell you’re not human, I can probably help sniff out whatever’s taking the lives of those women.”

She opened her mouth, but then closed it without speaking.

“Can’t think of a convenient reason to shoot that one down, can you?”

Ruby stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” Another step, and he was close enough to touch her. “It took me a while because you’re a tough woman to read, but I’ve finally figured you out.”

“Oh, you think?”

“I don’t think, I know. You prefer intimacy without emotion. It’s why you avoid sharing anything personal. You broke that pattern with me, and it scares the hell out of you. So now you’re looking for an excuse to break the connection before things get sticky.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” He took another step, moving deep within her personal space. “Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel anything for me beyond physical attraction.”

Her gaze jerked up, meeting his. “I don’t . . . I mean—” The words cut off as she pressed her fingers against her temples. “Shit. You’re not making this easy.”

“That was my intention. I’m glad to see it’s working.” He smiled, touched a hand to her cheek. The temptation to taste her, to take her, was nearly overwhelming. “I look forward to discovering you, Ruby.”

A brush of her lips, and desire blasted through his body. He allowed himself a few moments to bask in the sea of sensations, relishing the feel of her hands grasping his shoulders, the scent of her skin, the heat of her mouth. And even though both his body and the curse demanded so much more, he broke the kiss on a sigh.

Surprise crossed her face when he reached past her and opened the door. “Get some sleep, Beulah. As soon as we find what you’re looking for, we’re tying up those loose ends.”

R
uby landed hard on the polished wood floor, the pain in her ass nearly as irritating as the pain standing over her and offering his hand.

“Again.” Dmitri’s tone was crisp and all business.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a harsh orange glow on the aerobics room overlooking the ship’s bow. Another hour and the ship would slowly stir to life as passengers emerged from their nighttime slumbers to kick off a relaxing day at sea.

“Uh-uh, I’m done,” she said as Dmitri pulled her to standing with no visible effort. “We’ve been at this for two hours. I’m tired, I’m sweaty, and I’m hungry.” Not to mention she hurt in too many places to count.

The late evening of hunting, followed by her even later encounter with Jack, had left her way too wired to sleep the night before. As soon as her head hit the pillow her thoughts had latched on to Jack and refused to let go. Memories of his touch, of those lips, had invaded her dreams when she’d eventually drifted off, leaving her to deal with sweaty sheets and a serious sleep deficiency.

To make matters worse, Dmitri had woken her at the crack of nothing, insisting they practice a few rounds of hand-to-hand combat before anyone else came in to use the facilities. And even though she understood the method behind the madness, her body still yearned to crawl beneath the covers for another three or four hours of sleep.

“You’re also out of practice.” Dmitri wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his midnight blue T-shirt. “When was the last time you sparred with anyone?”

“It’s been a while.” Longer than she cared to admit, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take care of herself. Reapers often worked in dangerous environments, so she made a point of keeping her body in peak condition. She hit the gym every day for cardio, and every other day for weight training. But she’d skipped karate for the past month or two, and the effects were beginning to show. Not a lot, but enough to make the difference in a close match.

Dmitri scowled, his dark brows crinkling together. “A long while, by the looks of it. What we’re hunting isn’t going to cut you slack because your ass hurts. Again.”

“Sadistic bastard,” she grumbled.

Eyes narrowed and muscles tensed, she turned to face Dmitri. He stared back at her, his eyes flat and unreadable, his posture deceptively lax. They’d sparred on and off throughout the years, and he always made a formidable opponent. Not only was he physically superior, but he also employed an array of fighting techniques from multiple disciplines, making it difficult to anticipate his plan of attack.

He feinted left, lunged right. She barely dodged his grasp, knocking him sideways with a roundhouse kick to the ribs. Unfazed, he whirled around and delivered a blow to her back that sent her sprawling across the floor like a baseball player diving for home plate.

“Now you’re not even trying.”

“No, I’m too damn tired to think straight.” With a grunt she pushed off the floor, wincing at the pain in her chest and lower back. Good thing reapers healed quickly or she’d be stiff as a board by lunchtime. Still, it would take an hour or two before the damage was fully repaired and her body returned to its normal condition. “Besides, you know I can’t beat you.”

“That’s not true. You’ve beaten me before.”

“Yeah, when I fought dirty.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Anything goes in a street fight. You know this.” Dmitri’s expression softened, a hint of affection peeking out from beneath the gruff exterior. “You must understand,
milashka
, this creature is incredibly strong and plays by its own rules. It will show you no mercy, so neither can I.”

Without warning he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. The air whooshed from her lungs when he shoved her against the mirrored wall, his knee wedged between her thighs.

Years of training clicked in her mind, and she countered the move by stomping on his bare foot and shoving her head back. Her skull cracked against his jaw, giving her room to jab with her free elbow. Dmitri cursed in Russian as his head snapped back, his hold loosening just enough for her to wriggle free.

Ruby spun around, arms up, knees slightly bent, heart racing with the spike of adrenaline. She adjusted her position, putting more weight on her back leg so she could kick freely with the front.

Dmitri recovered quickly, ignoring the blood trickling from his nose as he charged toward her with murder in his eyes. He ducked under her first kick, blocked the second. The third kick made contact as he moved in close, but it was only a glancing blow to the side. She deflected a jab with her forearm, fought back with a punch to his solar plexus and a right hook to the chin. Pain shot through her knuckles from the force of the blow, but she decided it was worth it when he staggered back a few steps. He shook his head, a dazed look on his face.

A quick knee to the groin, and she’d be free to take a shower and get some breakfast. It was the great equalizer in a fight against a much stronger male, and she felt no qualms about employing it to her advantage.

Ruby charged in to deliver the final blow, realizing her error in judgment a second too late. She should have known he was playing possum to lull her into a false sense of security.

In a blur of movement, he grabbed her arm, twisted around, and flipped her to the ground. The impact echoed throughout the room and knocked the wind from her lungs, leaving her too stunned to do anything but gasp for air. Dropping to his knees, he straddled her hips and pinned her arms against the hardwood floor.

“You always go for the nuts.” Dmitri shook his head, his shoulders rising and falling with exertion. The outline of a bruise darkened the skin below his left eye, his lower lip split and beginning to swell. “You’re so predictable.”

“And you’re fixing to bleed all over me,” she said once she caught her breath. “Be a dear and wipe your nose, will you?”

Dmitri twisted his neck and wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve. Good thing the T-shirt was dark enough to hide bloodstains; otherwise, he’d get some strange looks on the return trip to their cabin. He opened his mouth and moved his lower jaw around, as if making sure everything worked right. “You still have a wicked left hook.”

He loomed over her, broad and imposing, sweaty and disheveled. It reminded her of the summer before, when they’d last turned to each other for comfort in oblivion. He must have shared the same thought because his face grew serious, his eyes darkening with hunger.

“Let me up, Dmitri,” Ruby said as she gave a light tug against his hold.

“So soon?” His accent deepened, his mouth hitching up on one side. “But I’m enjoying the view.”

She glanced down, checking to see if her tank top had suffered a wardrobe malfunction. The white cotton had ridden halfway up her torso, but all of the important stuff was still covered. Not that it really mattered—he’d seen it all before—but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by flashing anyone who happened to walk past. “Very funny. Now let me up. Aerobics starts in less than twenty minutes, so we better get going. I want to grab a shower before breakfast.”

“I could wash your back, if you want.” It was a rare thing, to see him smile. Not one of those fake ones he gave whenever he wanted something, but a genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes. It altered his entire appearance, from good-looking to devastatingly handsome.

“Thanks, but I can barely fit in that shower stall on my own.” Although the thought of him crammed into that pitiful excuse for a shower came close to making her laugh. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re going to fit in there.”

“Suit yourself. You make the water too hot anyway.” He released his hold on her and stood in one fluid motion, then gripped her outstretched hand and hoisted her up.

Judging by his expression, he wasn’t upset that she’d turned him down. It was the way things had always worked between them. Friends, and occasionally a little bit more. The arrangement worked fine by her. She didn’t believe in soul mates, or happily ever after, or any of that sentimental crap they put in Lifetime movies and Hallmark cards. She refused to fall victim to cliché, and Dmitri shared the sentiment. They both believed in the here and now, in forgetting about the stress of the job by any means necessary, and her preferred method was in the arms of an attentive lover.

Only she wasn’t stressed at the moment, and even if she was, she felt no inclination to blow off steam with Dmitri. She had no idea what that meant, and not knowing shook her sense of equilibrium.

Dmitri crossed the room, retrieved their towels and bottles of water. He tossed one of the bottles to Ruby before unscrewing the cap on the other for himself.

“Thanks.” She opened the bottle and took a healthy chug, the cool water feeling like heaven against the back of her parched throat. “You ready to head back to the cabin? I got dibs on the first shower.”

“No, you go ahead. I want to hit the weight room first.”

No surprise there. Come hell or high water, the man never missed a day at the gym. He had a body like Adonis, powerfully built and perfectly proportioned. He could have been a model in his mortal lifetime, if he hadn’t been too busy playing secret agent for the Russians.

“Suit yourself.” She flipped the towel over her shoulder as she walked toward the exit. “If I’m not there when you get back from your workout, I’ll be at the buffet getting breakfast.”

 

By nine, the Windjammer restaurant was packed with hungry passengers. A long line waited at the omelet bar, while others piled their plates high with a sampling of everything from the various buffets. A boy who looked no older than ten stacked pancakes on top of waffles, then drenched it all in a river of syrup. If the kid managed to clean his plate, he’d either puke, lapse into a diabetic coma, or bounce off the walls like a squirrel on Red Bull.

Ruby swallowed a spoonful of grits, so tired she wished she could tap some of the kid’s energy. It didn’t help that her body still ached from her early-morning workout with Dmitri. Thankfully, the worst of her injuries had already healed. Only a few minor marks remained visible to the naked eye, but her battered muscles had yet to fully recover. Every shift in her seat reminded her of that last flip to the floor, the bruise to her tailbone taking its good sweet time to repair. A hearty breakfast would provide the energy necessary to complete the process, allowing her body to return to full capacity within the hour.

She’d almost finished her meal by the time Dmitri entered the room, looking pumped and primed from his post-sparring workout. It seemed strange to see him in anything besides long pants and a T-shirt. Nobody else in the restaurant looked twice at the black shorts and red tank top, but the outfit looked unnatural to Ruby. She watched as he loaded his plate with biscuits, eggs, and enough bacon to clog the arteries of every man, woman, and child on board. Then he filled a mug with coffee and strode in her direction.

“If that’s not enough bacon, they can probably drag out the rest of the pig for you,” she said when he slid onto the bench seat on the opposite side of the table.

“I need the extra protein after a heavy workout.” He popped a crisp slice of bacon into his mouth before flipping the cap on a bottle of ketchup and squeezing it over his scrambled eggs.

“That’s disgusting.”

He pointed his fork at her grits. “Says the woman eating a bowl of grainy snot.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you have no appreciation for down-home Southern cooking.” Not that they qualified as authentic Southern grits, but they’d fit the bill for the time being. She took another bite, savoring the flavor and texture. Could use some chopped ham, she mused, and a teeny bit more cheese, but otherwise they tasted just fine. “My momma used to make the best grits. If you play your cards right, I’ll whip up a batch for you when we get back home.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” He shoveled a forkful of the ketchup-smothered eggs into his mouth, and Ruby almost gagged at the sight.

She turned her head in time to see Jack take a spot at the buffet line, his hair still damp from the shower. The sight of him made her heart beat a little faster, the memories from the previous evening front and center in her mind.

This morning he wore bark brown shorts and a white Guinness Stout T-shirt that molded against his broad chest in all the right places. A pair of aviator sunglasses hung from the collar, dragging the material down far enough for her to catch a glimpse of dark chest hair. Leaning down, he said something to the elderly woman standing in front of him and laughed, his eyes crinkling with apparent humor.

After filling his plate, he exited the line and jockeyed for a spot at the beverage station. He poured a cup of coffee, doctored it with cream and sugar, and set the mug on his tray. He paused where he stood, his eyes scanning the room. Then another broad smile creased his face when his gaze settled on Ruby.

It shouldn’t have made her breath catch in her throat. Shouldn’t have filled her with a rush of excitement that was becoming all too familiar.

But damn if it didn’t do all that and more.

Tray held high enough to avoid colliding with a pair of children streaking past, he wove a path across the room and toward her table.

“Good morning, Ruby.” He slid onto the bench seat beside her, his muscular thigh warm against hers. For breakfast, he’d packed his plate with hash browns, sausages, and two cornbread muffins. His mug of coffee smelled like hazelnut and looked like he’d doused it with so much cream it might not technically qualify as coffee. He slanted a look in Dmitri’s direction, his expression far from cordial. “Morning.”

Dmitri nodded but said nothing as he continued eating.

“You’re looking rather chipper this morning,” Ruby said, a little jealous because he appeared so refreshed and relaxed. At least one of them got a decent night’s rest after their late-night encounter.