Page 74 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 8

At the end of fourteen brutal hours in the pilot’s chair, Matteo treated himself to a shower. If the water wasn’t two degrees shy of boiling the skin from his body, it wasn’t hot enough. Exes and lovers had taken severe offense to it in the past, bitching about how little he left for them if he showered first, and the fact that his six-foot-four sturdy frame blocked the spray like the moon during a solar eclipse.

Then he took a walk throughout the Black Anemone, always venturing down a different corridor and discovering how far he could explore before he was shooed away.

That had only happened once. In fact, the Atlantians were overjoyed to explain ship functions, showing him what was powered by magic and which components of the vessel were simply advanced technology beyond human invention.

He found all of it fascinating. They respected him and treated him no differently than they treated El, as he’d discovered her rank was equivalent to his among the Atlantians. Upon promoting to colonel, he’d reached the height of his career as an active duty officer if he didn’t want to land behind a desk like Cartwright.

Atlantians were different. Though there were roles above the commander in their military, all members fought as long as they remained in the corps, and even their regent—their interim leader, ruling until a monarch could be named—could be called to action to defend the city. He liked that and tried to imagine how the United States would change if their commander-in-chief had to actually put boots on the ground and lead them on the battlefield.

Matteo grinned. It’d be a shit show. He turned and put his back to the spray, letting it rain over his shoulders and tense back. Everything ached from those hours in the chair, but he’d learned more about Elpis and Atlantis in one day than he had throughout the week.

Someone knocked on the door, the tap of knuckles barely heard over the pounding of the shower. He rinsed what soap remained on his body and killed the water, wrapping a towel around his waist before padding across the floor. The door opened to frame Elpis in her sleek turquoise blue leggings and a fitted tunic in the Grecian style with a number of medals and emblems pinned to it. Must have been her dress uniform.

The woman wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it. At least, he didn’t think so. Aware of where his attention had gone, her nipples pebbled, tightening into delectable little points he desperately wanted to suck into his mouth.

Did merwomen even wear bras? Something told him the clam shells of The Little Mermaid weren’t a thing in Atlantis.

Her eyes took him in, sweeping over his chest before dipping lower to the towel. “Oh. Sorry,” she said, voice taking on a sultry tone that sent an inappropriate pulse to his cock. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can—”

“It won’t take me long to get dressed. Is something wrong?”

“No. I only, ah, this can wait.”

The gods hated El. This she knew, because only a cruel and terrible goddess could present a dish like Colonel Sexy-Abs to her and simultaneously make him completely off-limits. She’d live ten of his lifetimes—if she didn’t die a tragic, awful death in battle as so many medics often did—and they came from two different worlds.

She took in the entire package, gaze flitting from brawny biceps to broad shoulders.Despite her best effort, her gaze followed a single drop of water in its descent down Matteo’s chest until it reached his fantastic abs and joined other glistening rivulets trickling down the washboard definition. From there, the clear trail ran parallel to the fine path of hair that vanished beneath the towel.

That towel was an awful, awful thing. She closed both fists against her sides and told herself she was not going to be absolutely inappropriate and snatch the blasted thing out of the way, no matter how much she wanted to see what it concealed. The rest of him had to be as beautiful.

Her pulse picked up and her desperately beating heart slammed against her ribs, blood thundering in her ears while an insidious voice told her it wouldn’t hurt to pull rank and order him to drop and give her twenty. Or fifty. After she sprawled on the floor first.

What in the hell was wrong with her?

El rubbed her palms against her leggings, not that it helped to dry them. She stepped inside and let him shut the door behind her. Cursing her misfortune, she watched him cross the chamber and disappear into the attached restroom. Steam was still billowing out, the scent of soap and spicy cologne and all those luscious things that must have come from the surface. All the guys had brought a portion of their gear from the Salamander, preferring their own clothes and toiletries.

Truth be told, she preferred the look of their clothing too, the way a cotton T-shirt just molded to their muscular torsos and hugged them just right. She heard the damp towel fall against tile. Just shy of drooling, she imagined the lean thighs and perfect ass it had covered.

Matteo emerged a few seconds later in a drab beige T-shirt and cargo pants. “What can I do for you, El?”

She liked when he called her El, though she couldn’t recall when it had started. “Honestly? I don’t even remember.”

His dark brows popped up an inch, but then a warm smile spread over his handsome face. He chuckled. “You must be as tired as we are. It’s been a long week and driving, whether it’s on land or in the water, is exhausting work.

“Not really. I have excellent stamina.”

At that,his brows rose and a sly grin raised the corners of his beautiful mouth. She imagined everywhere she wanted his lips to be. “I bet you do,” he said in his velvet voice, making her core clench.

El sucked in a breath and put her focus back where it belonged, on her honest and noble intentions—not how much she wanted to mount her human companion and ride him into bed like a racing shark. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening, but it occurred to me that your men have five more difficult weeks ahead of them and are overdue for some leave. How would all of you like an evening in Cyrene to unwind?”

He blinked. “Into the city? The underwater city?”

“Yes. The underwater city surrounded by a magical dome to provide air.”

“Oh. But still, why the invite?”

“You’reour distinguished guests. I’ve already discussed it with your general as well as my superiors. All agree that your men deserve an evening, but the final decision is yours. I can make arrangements for tomorrow.”

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