Page 38 of Save Me
“Captain of a tiki cruise.” A condescending glint sparkles in his eye as he says the wordstiki cruise. “I think the termskipperwould be more appropriate?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you stuffy bastards think. She’s ‘Cap’ to me, and that was one fun ride.” Connor gives my bare shoulder a friendly squeeze before he’s distracted by a passing platter of mushroom tartlets, and he’s gone chasing food again.
“It was a great day.” Ronan’s warm palm caresses my back again.
“You guys are certainly selling it.” Preston notes the affectionate move. “Maybe I’ll charter one of these cruises while I’m here.” His hazel eyes drift over my dress, stalling on my neckline before lifting again. “Get the full tour.”
Surprise, surprise. I don’t think I like Henry Wolf’s friend Preston much at all. And he clearly knows Ronan and Connor well enough to assume this “fun ride” comes with more than just a trip to Starfish Island.
I plaster on a wide, fake smile. “Just let me know and I’ll make sure Frank treats you right.”
Beside me, Ronan chuckles.
“I think she just called you a pompous prick.” The guy with cropped, dark ash-blond hair on the right—Merrick—murmurs.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time a woman has called me that.” Preston sips an amber-colored drink, seemingly unbothered as he scans the white walls and balconies behind us. “The bastard really outdid himself with this one.”
“Makes me wish I could move the Empire near the ocean,” Merrick agrees. His words are wistful, and yet his features are stony, unyielding.
“The Empire?” I ask curiously.
Crystal blue eyes slide back to me. There’s something heavy and dark in them. “My hotel in Vegas.” He says it so nonchalantly.
“Right. Of course. And where isyourhotel?” I ask Preston.
He grins. “I don’t own hotels. I just make people enough money so they can fund them.”
“Don’t let their soft, manicured hands fool you. These two have worked hard for everything they have,” Ronan quips, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“We can’t all curry favor with Wolf’s wife for our good fortunes.” Preston smirks, the twinkle in his eye a challenge, like he has a secret he’s not sharing.
Ronan sips his champagne. If the taunt bothers him, he’s good at hiding it.
“Are you local to Mermaid Beach, Sloane?” Merrick asks as Ronan draws circles over my back with a teasingfingertip. His hands aren’t soft or manicured. They’re toughened by calluses, the scratchiness delicious against my skin. I hadn’t really noticed when they were all over me before, but I’m acutely aware now.
I clear my throat, temporarily distracted. “Born and raised.” No need to mention where, in case they’ve heard about the crazy neighbor.
“And what do you think of this new hotel?”
“It’s …” I search for a word that doesn’t force me to lie and settle on “something.”
Merrick’s stony face cracks then, revealing a beautiful smile. “You’re not a fan.”
“She hates it.” Preston laughs through another sip before waving down a waiter to get a refill. “Do me a favor and allow us to be there when you share your opinions with Wolf. We like watching his enormously inflated ego get knocked down a peg or four.”
Ronan snorts
Clearly, they haven’t connected the dots.
“I wonder what he would say if we told him that he’s missed the mark on this one,” Preston continues.
“You’re angling for a throat punch tonight?” Merrick asks. “Because he thinks this is the pinnacle. More than Alaska.”
“Nothing is more precious to him than Alaska,” Preston counters.
While they argue about which luxury hotel is Henry Wolf’s favorite, my attention wanders, first to Ronan to gauge his opinion as he watches their chatter—does he like these guys?—then around Seraphina’s.
A blond woman with sharp features and red lipstickstands in a small group ten feet away, staring at me, her face hard with displeasure.
