Which was ludicrous!
Gesturing wildly, because this was too crazy to hear, she shouted, “Have you actually lost your mind? You put me in your room and I find one sharp object, you’re dead.”
That earned a serial-killer smile. “Seventy-thousand.”
“I don’t understand how a man as clever as you has failed to realize that I am not interested in your company. Take those seventy-thousand hypothetical tickets and shove them up your ass. I’d rather fuck every man downstairs than touch your feet with my magic hands.”
“Even John?”
Hmm. He had Eugenia there. “You might marginally outrank John, but don’t take that as a compliment. He’s scum. Not that you’re not scum too. You are.”
Laughing, the captain took a step back and leaned his weight on her dresser. “Chess and a foot rub. I’ll even see you dressed in conservative clothes. The regular rules apply.”
“You’re only pushing this for show. You know I’m going to tell everyone you have a small dick and are terrible in bed.”
Still chuckling, running a hand through his long, dark hair, he countered, “Tell them what you want. I don’t care.”
“A foot rub…” Negotiations of this level required pacing, leaving Eugenia bounding back and forth between her walls. “And one nightly game of chess. Standard clothes that cover all of me. And no sexual anything. Not even innuendo.”
He had a dimple, one on full display with a cockeyed grin. “You still think you’re going to find that one, forever guy?”
“I didn’t get where I was because I let assholes like you make decisions for me. I’ll get off your boat, and I’ll find someone special. The whole world can’t be like you.”
Was that pity? “Eugenia, you’ll find nothing better than this boat. It might take some time for you to figure that out, but you’ll come to accept it.”
Ignoring him, she went on. “And I’ll keep breaking the shit they leave at my door. Let them spend their tickets on the others.”
“Raoul has gathered intel on your preferences from the first night he saw you. Risked the wastes to hunt down things the other women told him you’d like. That’s a bit coldhearted.”
“Oh,” she singsonged. “And then he falls in love and you kill him.”
“Naw. He’s had them all. The boys downstairs are running bets on who plows you first. He’s got a lot of tickets riding on winning you with a box of crap.”
How could she be so dense? “And that’s why you’re bribing me to come to your rooms.”
“So what if I am?”
“You’re worse than Wall Street… just without the slick suit or the manicured nails.”
By God, he actually looked down at the grit under his fingertips as if it had never registered it before.
And she laughed at him.
And it felt good.
“You are hands down…”
Hazel eyes landed on hers, penetrating through her. Possessive, and creepy, and uninvited. “Hands down what?”
That she was not touching with a ten-foot pole. “I gotta get back to Table #2. Screw intellectualism. Who needs education and a functioning brain when they were born with tits and an ass?”
Brushing past her tormentor to escape, she almost crossed the threshold before he seized her hand and pulled her back. Pushing a tube of Chapstick against her palm, the captain closed her fingers around it. “Cherry flavored, your favorite.”
Knowing by feel alone what was in her hand, she raised her eyes to his, and said, “I think I really will kill you next week.”
Then she popped off the safety plastic and swiped it on her mouth. Smacking her lips once she recapped the tube and threw it right in his face. It bounced off his forehead and landed on her sheets. A corner of the room she had no intention of going near so long as a man was lurking, smirking, and disgustingly pleased.
So she flipped him off and turned.