Her imagination begged to differ.
Chapter Two
Fuck, she’d made him hard! Clutching his straining cock as the door closed behind the latest potential recruit, he grimaced and shut his eyes to blank her out. He had work to do tonight, and he could not afford to be distracted by the girl.
Half an hour later, the entire Blood and Thunder polo team had assembled on deck. All of them were fabulously wealthy and all of them bound by the same code of honor, which was to clean up the mess that the authorities of various countries had neither the time nor the resources to deal with. Tonight, it was Alexei’s turn to head up the mission. He hailed from the steppes of Russia, where riding a horse was as natural as walking and the fight for survival was real and often vicious. His second in command tonight was Dante Formosa, an Argentinian born in a stable to a Romani mother—a stable Dante now owned, together with an inherited landmass the size of Great Britain. Diego Vidal would be acting as point man. Diego was a fearless warrior from a region of Spain high in the rugged Sierra Nevada, where men were hard, and women were passionate, and their horses were second to none. Last up was Cesar, a cold, distant man, who called no place home, and whose history before they’d come together to play polo was a blank. But it was Cesar who had bought Isla Celeste, an island in the sun that served as their base, and not just for polo. After tonight’s mission, the team would reconvene on the island for debriefing.
They went over their tactics one last time. Confident they had every angle covered, they tooled up and headed out.
~o0o~
Amber had no intention of staying in her cabin all night. Nice though it was, with its polished wood and clever design, she needed fresh air, as well as some time away from the ship to think how she was going to get the inside story on Alexei Riga for Dana. He wasn’t exactly the open, friendly type. He was more the archetypical strong and silent type, with a bit of BDSM potential thrown in. This was, of course, only a theory, as her experience was confined to her imagination, but he did love his discipline.
Pulling on her jeans, a fleece, and a pair of sneakers, she glanced at the crew instruction folder. There was nothing to say she couldn’t leave the ship, though she didn’t want Mr. Chatty trailing after her. She could eat on board in the crew’s mess, but as she wasn’t on duty until seven o’clock the following morning, she wanted to see what was happening on shore. The trick would be to find a café where she could actually afford to eat. Hard News hadn’t been exactly lavish with expenses, and Monte Carlo wasn’t noted for its cheap eateries, but maybe a sandwich bar would be open.
Slipping over the side of the yacht was easy. Getting back again might be a problem, but it was a problem that would wait until later. Climbing onto the pontoon from the ship without getting a dunking in the sea or being spotted by the guards or by one of the many cameras was another challenge, but it was one she relished. She had undergone many similar tests in the army and had proved a tricky adversary for her instructors.
It was dark on the side streets of Monte Carlo, apart from the occasional street lamp and a reluctant moon. It was pointless searching the main drag for somewhere she could afford to eat, so she headed up the narrow side streets in search of affordable food, reasoning that workers like her had to eat somewhere.
From a trash can?
Shocked by the sight of a young girl rifling through a Dumpster behind a pizza restaurant, Amber backed into a doorway to watch. The girl had already made a small pile of discarded boxes containing scraps of half-eaten pizzas, and she was looking for more. Digging out her money, Amber counted the thin wad of notes. She made some swift calculations. She could afford to buy more than one pizza. Walking over to put her proposal to the girl, she was startled when the girl reared back as if terrified of Amber. Wheeling around, the girl looked for somewhere to hide.
“Hey—no!” Catching up, Amber tried to explain. “Please don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”
The girl looked at her warily before deciding to speak. “Celina,” she confided in a whisper.
“I was just on my way to buy a pizza, Celina.” Amber mimed eating a pizza as she pointed at the café. Celina obviously spoke some English, but Amber had no idea if she understood enough to realize what Amber intended to do.
“I understand you,” Celina explained to her relief.
“Will you let me buy you a pizza?”
Celina looked as if she’d rather disappear, and said nothing for a while. She was shaking like a rabbit. Rake thin, with long, straggly hair, she was grubby and half-starved. A noise made Amber swing around and stare up. She was shocked to see more women leaning out of an upstairs window. “Your friends?” she asked.
Following her glance, Celina grimaced. “We’re all locked in. I managed to escape to find food.”
Amber assessed the situation. The house was part of a block with a fire escape running down from the roof. Celina had taken an incredible risk to get out. The only way she could have done so was by edging along a narrow ledge to reach the fire escape, and from there, down to the street.
“No! Don’t do that,” Celina exclaimed in panic as Amber cautiously tried the front door. “They’ll hear you.”
“They?”
“The men.” Celina’s eyes had widened with fright. “The men who brought us here,” she explained, her gaze darting anxiously around the shadows. “We paid them to bring us here,” she admitted in a small voice. “We all answered the same advertisement for well-paying jobs and a chance to better ourselves.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Amber said, firing up inside on behalf of the women as she tried to work out how best to help them.
“The pizza?” Celina pressed softly in an imploring tone.
She sounded so desperate, Amber knew she couldn’t refuse, though every second they remained in the open added to the danger of discovery.
“You stay here, and I’ll be back as fast as I can,” she promised. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m going to help you.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Celina implored. “You’ll put us all in danger if you tell the authorities.”
“But we have to tell someone,” Amber insisted.
“Just not yet—we’re all so hungry.”