Jewel Hiest

by Keller, J. J.

As Debbie listed her thoughts of what donor could represent, elements he’d already concluded were not possibilities, John tuned her out and thought of Mary. An hour had passed. If she’d had an afternoon fuck with the officer and gentleman, then they’d be done and he wouldn’t have to endure thinking of her being in the next room with someone else.

  Mary’s surprise at seeing him with Debbie had been straightforward. Debbie was very attractive, not to him, but most of the men on the fifth floor of their building seemed to be engrossed with her appearance. John recalled Mary’s facial expression as she’d whispered to him earlier. Although she’d said “friend,” her eyes had been cold. No, fuming would be a better description. Could his little Mary truly be jealous, as Debbie said?

  How could he test that theory?

  His subject was walking down the hallway.

  John grabbed Debbie and tossed her against the door. A smile, as wicked as he’d ever seen, spread wide on her perfectly made-up face. “Go along with me,” he whispered.

  Pressing her hands above her head, flat alongside the portal, he kissed her. Not a gentle, thanks for the nice time smooch, either. He added all the passion he’d built while following his little suspect-tease around the ship.

  His obsession coughed. He could smell Mary over the cloying odor of Debbie’s cologne.

  Debbie separated her legs and nudged his knee to fit between her thighs, but his focus remained on the woman who’d smashed into his heart. Sweet Virgin Mary.

  “Excuse me. I hate to interrupt, but could you move one door north of here?” Leg braced, she fluttered her delicate hands in front of her.

  Her eyes were filled with fire. Debbie slid tighter onto his leg. She moved to the left and the knob of his knee slipped between the junction of her thighs. Repulsed at the action, he released Debbie and pulled her away from the entrance. “Sorry, didn’t notice.”

  Mary grimaced. “Hey, if you’re available at six, you and I have been invited to join the captain at the main table.” She nodded at Debbie. “Sorry, only John and me.”

  “Sounds like something important. I’ll pick you up at five forty-five.” He smiled and wrapped his arm around Debbie’s waist.

  Debbie licked her ruby lips and moaned. “Plenty of time.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll meet you at six.” Mary slid her keycard into the slot and the door handle clicked. “Well, have fun.”

  Her tone level was as chilled as the shrimp should have been on the buffet.

  “Shit, Kajiyama, it looks like she’s really into you, too.” Debbie tugged at her bathing suit top. “What did you want to show me? Hopefully more than your skills at tongue tango.” She winked while flicking her tongue.

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stared at the closed door. “Yes. All I needed was accomplished in sixty seconds or less.” A shake of his head to get Mary out and to bring the case into focus didn’t work. “I’ll send you a clip of the video. Look at Waterman’s body posture and movements. I wonder if he’s transsexual.”

  * * * *

  Mary fell against the door. Her breath caught as if she were an asthmatic like Lisa. Mary lowered her bag and clutched her chest. John wasn’t her type, so why did seeing him kiss that redhead feel like sharp hot tweezers were being pressed into her lungs?

  She dragged her feet forward and collapsed on the small bed. Placing the backs of her hands on her forehead, she contemplated her options. Two viable donor candidates were staff members here. She didn’t know if they’d even engage in sex with guests. To get away from chatting with no-neck at the pool, she’d gone to eat. She was hungry, so the excuse had been valid. Matthew had sent her a note in the dining hall stating he couldn’t meet her for a jog, but invited her and her friend, John, to join him at the Captain’s Table for dinner. Matthew could be a doable candidate. But what about love? Would she be able to freely have unprotected sex with someone to whom she didn’t have at least a smidgen of attachment?

  Just to pad her selection a little more with intellectuals, she went to the library to see what single passengers might be interested in literature. As predicted, women and men with thick lenses and shirts buttoned to the top of their necks were reading there. They were easy to rule out, as the readers wouldn’t tear away from the print to experience a night of passion. She’d have to go back to the pool or the Tiki Station later. Maybe John would be willing to join her at the bar, if she offered to buy him a Zombie.

  John. Her heart clutched at the notion he’d found someone. Granted, Debbie had enough facial wrinkles to create a decent screen print, but he’d appeared to be getting his groove on.

  Mary pounded her fists on the bed and then held her stomach as her muscles cramped. He wasn’t her type. Then why did she want him? Why did seeing him kiss that woman make her heart ache? Were they next door, doing the shipboard mattress mambo?

  Enough! Mary stood. She finger-combed her mass of kinks and snarls, then left the small cabin. A walk was what she needed. A stroll around the promenade, one lap, and then she’d get ready to woo Matt.

  He was perfect for her. She clicked off the reasons why as she meandered around the pool and past the Tiki Station. The band members were setting their equipment out on the stage. She waded around the boxes. Stumbling a few steps, she tried to stand upright, but threw her hands out to catch herself if she landed on the concrete. A hand reached out and caught her before she landed on the hard surface.

  “Watch your step,” someone with a deep male voice said.

  Mary straightened. Her stomach muscles gripped in pain.

  Dark dreadlocks bounced off his shoulders as he hurried to help a band mate with a set of Calypso drums.

  Conrad.

  She resisted the urge to scream or call the ship’s cops. Instead, she slowly rounded the corner and then picked up the pace. Her palms were sweating so much she couldn’t get her room keycard to slide into the slot. She wiped her hands and tried again.

  At the green light, she slipped inside and the keycard dropped in front of the closet as she wrapped her arms across her stomach. Sharp, wrenching pain ripped through her gut. Her friends were right. He was ruthless, and if he caught her alone, there was only one way she’d end up. Dead. Once he took the diamonds from her, she was a loose end that needed pinching off. She collapsed onto the brown sofa and rocked.

  The first time she’d met Conrad, he’d sent flowers and candy, waited for her in the dark of the night so she wouldn’t walk to her car alone. Tears dripped to her cheeks and fell onto her cover-up. They’d started dating. Six months later, knowing he wasn’t the marrying kind, she’d proposed having a child together. He enthusiastically agreed. One miscarriage and several painful injections later, her uterus had been ready to accept sperm and develop a baby. The very day they were to conceive, Conrad set an explosive device on the secondary safe on the floor near the display cases and robbed her jewelry store.

  He was an idiot, as her friends had claimed. A ski mask had covered his features, but he hadn’t disguised his voice nor camouflaged his hand. He had a natural birthmark on his left thumb. In his right hand he’d held a gun. In plain sight the port wine-stain, shaped like an molar, beamed at her.

  Mary threw herself flat on the couch. She scraped an escaping hair away from her face. Maybe she was mistaken. The police investigators said he was very clever to have made the bomb himself. She’d been used as an access point into the store and for him to scope out the vault. The insurance assessors had looked at her like she was guilty. Even her grandfather had interrogated her about the robbery. She’d reminded him that he’d approved Conrad as a suitor and possible father of Keefe heirs. Grandfather Keefe had pish-poshed and sent her home so he could finish closing the jewelry store for an indefinite period of time.

  From the backside, dreadlocks didn’t look like Conrad. Only his voice threw her into a tailspin. She’d never forget his pitch, low, sexy and distinct with a northeastern nasally intonation.

  Enough deliberating. Either he was on th
e ship or not. Later, she’d visit the Tiki Station and get close to the reggae band. Lifting from the couch, she crossed to the closet and stood in front of the door. She exhaled, pulled the knob and removed the backpack purse. The scan machine hadn’t caught anything odd about the items in her bag. White hot rage renewed inside her. Conrad had used her to carry the diamonds onboard. She almost wished the diamonds would have been sensed by the device and taken into custody, or that she’d missed the boat. Her heart thumped against her lungs. Danger wasn’t something she was accustomed too. She had to stay cool and not panic.

  She drew out the throw-away cellphone to check the battery. Solid bars appeared as she powered it, and then she quickly shut the mobile down. All was ready in case she needed to flee.

  Chapter 6

  Three light taps. John tuned into the chatter in the hallway, assuming Mary stood on the other side of the door. He threw the entrance open and glanced into the hallway. Estee Lauder perfume clouded the area, the same type his grandmother wore. A cougar was playing tricks. Then he heard the knocking again, a little harder this time and from the center of the room.

  John flipped his laptop open and glanced at the screen. His investigation data and robbery video were on screen. He shoved the computer closed, drew his fake persona forward, and opened the between door. Derrick, his supervisor at ACI, had complained for a solid ten minutes about paying extra for the connecting rooms, but John had insisted. Instinct, from ten years as a detective on the Fort Meyers Police Force, gave him a keen sense of probabilities. He must stay near Mary in case she needed him when Peabody showed up. And he would, there was no doubt in John’s mind. At the final draw he’d have to make a decision if she was guilty or innocent, based on proof.

  She peered over his shoulder. “Are you alone?”

  Her skin sparkled like star dust, smelling of chlorine mixed with a strong floral scent like the tropical gardens in his grandparents’ home in Manoa, Hawaii, and he yearned to touch her. He had to experience the mix of the aromas and Mary herself. Stop. He needed to get his head back in the fraud investigation game.

  “Yes.” His voice came out like a croaky frog.

  “I need help with this dress.” She stepped over the threshold. Her high heels made her legs look impossibly long. His gut clenched. He had to gather control and maintain his role as investigator. No problem.

  She pivoted.

  No bra. Black thong. Hot. Possible diamond robbery suspect. He must ignore his urges.

  “Ruby looks good on you. Draws out the natural peach tint to your skin.” Could he sound any less male? He took a couple of steps to be in line with her narrow back. He blew a breath and held the two parts of the dress together and slowly zipped. Not wanting to get her delicate sun-kissed soft flesh caught in the teeth, he touched his fingers against the sweet channel of her spine as much as possible. Tiny sparkles glittered in the slight furrow of the small of her back. This activity was generally associated with partnered couples. His heartbeat quickened at the thought. “Did you forget the, ah, undergarment?”

  “Nope. It’s built in and uplifting.” She twisted. “Want to see?”

  Finished connecting the parts, he knuckled her forward. Deep inhale. Slow exhale. He was ready to see the final product. “Okay.” The damn croak continued. Christ, what was wrong with him?

  Her shoes were a nice focal point. With a hint of red on the soles, the height of the heels brought her level with his five feet ten inches. Hip hugging garment, which would account for the sexy thong. A heart-shaped bodice, with little pleats going from the valley disappearing under her arms. That was what he had to do to get through this, treat the little dressing session like a fashion show. He was an uninvolved spectator helping out. He quickly bypassed the bulk of skin flowing from the “uplifting” section, and all his good intentions fell away as he stared at her angel lips.

  Her mouth had been outlined with a different, darker shade of her lipstick. The bruised bottom lip was nearly healed. Blush splattered across her cheekbones and strategic loose corkscrews of hair flowed on the sides of her face. Topping off the beautiful package were large square cut diamonds studs glinting from her earlobes. He hoped they were from the reputed Keefe family jewels instead of newly processed stolen stones.

  “Nice earrings.” Despite the sexy woman tantalizing him, he’d recaptured his normal, masculine tone. Too bad he couldn’t talk about guy stuff instead of chatting on women’s doo-dads.

  “Thanks. You heard me tell no-neck that I’m a jewelry designer, right?”

  “Yes.” His mind jetted every which way as he tried to decide where she was going with the comment.

  “Well, these little studs are not a sample of my work. They’ve been in the Keefe family for centuries.” She caressed a fold in the dress with a finger. If only she’d stroke him like that. “Touch this material. What do you think?”

  Little? They were probably a half-carat each. Touch the dress? Only if she wanted to lose the damn soft bit of nothing and have a go on the firm mattress a step away.

  He stuck his fingers on her perfectly curved hip and then snapped them back.

  “Electric shock?”

  He shook his head, questioning what she meant. “What?”

  “Your hand was there for like two seconds. Did you get shocked?” Her green eyes, all the more emerald because of the dark eye shadow, showed concern.

  “Yes. A shock that’s going to last a very long time.”

  She took a step back.

  “Sorry. Are you ready to go?”

  She hadn’t caught his innuendo. He’d fallen for her, and once she was cleared of any suspicion, he planned to pursue a relationship, see if it could develop into something more. “Sure. Just need to straighten this tie.”

  “Here, let me help you.” She pressed into him and whipped the knot out.

  If logic ruled, instead of the lust currently ripping through his body, he should have refused and gotten as far away as possible from the hot situation. However, for the first time following a long string of relationships, he wanted her to return the emotion. He needed her to be in love with him. Love, he scoffed. He’d never used the word with a woman. After just a couple of days he was falling in love with Mary Keefe, jewelry designer slash socialite slash possible thief.

  The tap, tap, tap of her palm on his chest matched his heartbeat. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You’re acting a little strange.”

  In reflex, he jerked away. “We’ve known each other less than two days. How can you possibly know if I’m acting strange or not?”

  Pain crossed over her eyes, and she lowered her head as if to hide her thoughts. “I see.”

  He lifted her chin and gazed into her sweet face. “I guess I’m grumpy.”

  Her lips shot upward and a sparkle waved through her expressive eyes. “Didn’t get any this afternoon?”

  “Highly personal,” he grumbled. “Ready to go? We’ll be late.”

  “Just need to get my purse.” She pivoted and swung her tight little ass through the opening.

  He followed, leaving the two rooms adjoined.

  * * * *

  The guests occupying the Captain’s round table were an odd mix. One Texas couple talked loud enough to be heard over the strings playing classical music in the background. Another couple, hailing from Minnesota, was quiet and focused on their food. A textbook salesman carried on an intense conversation with a librarian. Rounding out the group were perky blondes and a PR guy. A single man, a politician’s public relations guru, had been seated beside Mary. His interest centered on John. Twenty agonizing minutes into the dinner, Mr. PR bowed his head near Mary’s roasted chicken and touched her back as he chatted with Wang.

  Mary wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she’d thought First Mate Matthew Taylor should have been glued to her side. With limited chances at conception, how could she entice the guy if he sat on the other side of a table setting of fourteen? One of the blond divas kept him occupied, but he s
tole a glance at her and winked. Dessert dishes were being placed and dinner plates removed. Port wine in a tiny glass added a deep purple color to the otherwise boring white arrangement.

  John’s hand brushed the side of her thigh as he lifted his napkin. All in all, the night had become tiring and painful to endure. Thoughts of dissecting the reggae band members made her stomach twist, but she had to resolve her suspicions. Her breath caught as she replayed the voice she’d heard a few hours ago.

  For the second time, John’s thick white cloth napkin fluttered to the floor directly under her gaze. Their heads banged as each reached for it. His fingers caressed the side of her face. Mary gazed into his penetrating eyes. What was he trying to convey? Just say it.

  “Please get me away from here.” He dropped his hand from her face and snagged the napkin. “Will you dance with me?”

  “Heck yeah, when the captain releases us, we’ll grind.”

  “Thank you!” He sounded so relieved she wanted to laugh, but considering she was at the Captain’s table, she elected to hold the joy inside.

  John’s head popped up. Mary sighed, gathered control over her medicated raging hormones and lifted her upper body. Stomach muscles still fluttering as fast as the flag out the port window, she gave him a weak smile. Protocol was such they couldn’t leave the table until the Captain dismissed them. Although she wasn’t hungry, the dessert looked delicious, appearing to be a ball-shaped flan with swirls of white chocolate and caramel. Cute little twigs of dark coffee-tinted cookies were rising from the mound and spun sugar surrounded the tree-like accessory.

  Fortunately, PR guy had diverted his attention to the poor woman on the other side of him. Mary was the first to be served, and until all the guests had plates in front of them she couldn’t dive in.

  “John, I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back,” she whispered into his ear.

  His almond eyes narrowed to be mere slits on his red-cheeked face. “You wouldn’t leave me here?”

  “No, I just need to, you know. I want to eat this fantastic dessert, and I promised to dance with you.” She touched his protruding cheekbones to feel the heat. “You got a sun burn today. Want some lotion?”