The Isle Of Sin And Shadows - Keri Lake Page 0,139

hold back. “Perhaps I’d find a skilled captain. Someone who knows boats and can keep me company.”

“And where would you find this skilled mariner?”

Shrugging, I tip my head forward to allow the water to rinse the soapy ends. “I’m sure this town is crawling with able-bodied men.”

A sharp pain streaks across my scalp, as he yanks my head back and spins me around. He pushes me back against the cold tiles that practically sizzle beneath my hot skin. Wedged between him and the wall, I feel his muscles harden around me, while his eyes darken with malice.

“You’re awful touchy for someone who’s just using me,” I say on a shaky breath.

Hand to my jaw, he kisses me roughly enough to steal the air from my lungs, and I wonder if he can feel my whole body trembling like a bird against him.

Not from fear, but something else. That delicious flavor that I’ve craved for so long. The one I’ve not been able to pinpoint while I, instead, filled my emptiness with pills and unrequited affections.

This unbearable ache inside of me has a name: Thierry Bergeron. He’s what I desire more than anything. The exquisite poison that’s sure to destroy my heart this time.

The possessive curl of his fingers around my hips, and the crazed look in his eyes, tell me exactly what he refuses to say to me right now.

This man wants me as much as I want him.

35

Céleste

“Can I come with you?” Perched on the edge of the bed, I watch Thierry adjust his cuffs and snap the links into place. “It’d be nice to get off this boat for a bit.”

“You long to sail the ocean someday, yet a little over a week on a boat, and you’re already bored.”

“The swamp is not even close to being out on the open sea. At least there I’d have the ocean breeze, and dolphins and beautiful sunsets. Here, I have mosquitos. And Moses.”

“You don’t enjoy his company?”

The moment he slips into his suit coat, the man transforms from the bare-chested beast who fucked me, to the slick black wolf dressed in crisp wool. Devastatingly handsome. I’m certain now that the childhood stories I heard growing up, Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs--they were all designed to scare me away from men like Thierry. Shady wolves. The shameless villains of the story who take what they want.

“I’d enjoy yours more,” I tell him.

“It’s too long a drive to have you annoying me the whole way.”

“I promise I won’t. You have my word. Scout’s honor.”

“I don’t think you were a scout, chère.”

“Okay, you’re right. That’s a lie, but I swear I won’t annoy you.”

With a onceover, gaze dipping toward my feet and back, he smooths his hand over his suit coat. “Do you have something to wear, is the question?”

“I’m guessing one of your dress shirts and hunting boots is unacceptable.”

Ignoring that, he slides on his shoes, which are as polished as the rest of him. “You never took me up on my offer, I take it.”

“Francescas? No. But I suppose it’s fitting now that you’ve had your way with me.”

His lips curve, as if the thought of that pleases him. “Throw something presentable on, and we’ll make a quick stop on the way.”

His idea of presentable probably wasn’t a pair of cut-off shorts and a Nirvana Tee, but even after doing a couple of laundry loads on the boat, I still don’t have much to choose from.

Thierry turns the truck into one of the parking spots just off the main street, in front of a quaint little boutique. Francescas is a fitting name for all the girly pink accents, flowers, and painted trim that adorn the outside of the building.

After throwing the truck in park, Thierry sets his hand on my thigh, and I pause in my turn toward the passenger door. When he wordlessly exits the truck, and rounds the front of it, I have to cross my legs. The man looks like a killer, with that confident, almost cocky stride, and the subtle way he scopes his surroundings reaffirms he’s not one often taken by surprise. He opens the door for me, taking my hand as he helps me out of the truck, like I’m something special. Something more than the chick he banged three times the night before.

With a grip on my hand, he leads me into the boutique, our presence setting off the little bell overhead.

A slender, elegant woman emerges through a curtain, wearing a gorgeous,