LITMIR.BIZ

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dropped them to their sides. A beefy man stood at the bar.

      “That’s enough!” he shouted. “You people,” he pointed to the group that caused the ruckus, “get out before I call the cops.”

      They had the sense not to protest.

      “You,” he pointed to Jess.

      “Me?”

      “Sing.”

      Zach thrust the laminated paper back into her hands with a shrug. “You heard the man.” Around her the bar chanted, “Sing! Sing! Sing!”

      Zach grinned. “And you thought this was over?”

      She looked into his dark green eyes. “Bar fight. Rum. Singing. This is some initiation.”

      With a low chuckle, he wrapped his broad hands around her waist and sat her on the bar.

      She leaned forward. “Payback’s hell,” she whispered in his ear.

      She’d make sure of it.

      Chapter 4

      Seconds after her alarm clock sounded, Jess sat straight up in her bunk and slapped the off button with the flat of her hand.

      It took another few seconds to orient herself to her strange location.

      One For The Money. Salvage ship. Puerto Isla.

      She yawned and stretched. Her mouth tasted horrible. This was why she didn’t drink. It seemed to take her forever to get it together in the morning, and she felt fuzzy.

      Though last night had been fun, she had to admit. The drinking. The singing. The eating. Even the bar fight had been a good time. Plus, it had given her an opportunity to see the crew in action.

      They were a tight-knit bunch. Even Diego—one of the most silent men she’d met who was not a Marine—was in the thick of the brawl.

      As for Zach, he was one surprise after another. Charming as hell, but the way he stood when attacked, held his hands and never hesitated, told her that it was not his first bar fight.

      The faint smell of coffee and the steady thump of feet on the deck above caught her attention. The rest of the crew was up and moving and it was time for her to do the same. She grabbed her toothbrush, paste and towel and flung open the door to her private bathroom.

      Standing in front of the shower was a seminaked Zach.

      Okay, not so private, she thought as she stopped in her tracks.

      With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and his skin damp from the shower, Zach did not look like a computer geek. Not like a mechanic. Not like an easygoing charmer.

      He looked iconic.

      His abs were washboard. His shoulders corded with muscle. There was enough hair on his chest to make sure a woman knew he was a man.

      Her gaze swept upward, and she met his eyes staring back in surprise. Heat flooded her face. “Um, I…” She held up her toothbrush.

      “We share a shower,” he said, his voice trailing off at the end as his attention was diverted by her baby-pink, boy-shorts underwear and the thin, white cotton tank top that served as her pajamas.

      Jess felt naked despite the clothes and started backing out. “I should have knocked.”

      He took a step and the towel started to slip and he grabbed it, his eyes widening. “I thought Liz told you. I’m sorry—”

      But she was already in her room and shutting the door. “Could that have been more awkward?” she muttered, patting her cheeks to dissipate the heat.

      She inhaled, slow and deep. Obviously, it had been much too long since she’d seen a naked man that wasn’t wearing military-issue underwear, covered in grease paint and getting ready for maneuvers.

      She was a professional. A Marine. She’d seen plenty of naked men.

      There was no need to act embarrassed. Straightening, she opened the door a crack. “Let me know when you’re done?” she called.

      “Give me thirty seconds,” Zach replied.

      Sounds of hurried shuffling emanated from the bathroom, and she peered inside, catching a glimpse of Zach in the mirror.

      His back was to her, and the towel from his waist was now tossed over his shoulder, giving her a perfect view of his perfect backside.

      There was a dimple on each cheek.

      I could bite that like an apple. She yanked the door shut, realizing where her thoughts were wandering.

      Oh, yeah, much too long since she’d seen a naked civilian.

      “How are you feeling?” Liz asked when Jess stepped onto the deck wearing her standard boat gear of bikini top, shorts and deck shoes. “Not hungover, are you?”

      “Takes more than a few shots and a bar fight,” Jess said, glancing to make sure that Zach wasn’t around. Taking Liz by the arm, she drew her aside. “Why didn’t you tell me that Zach and I were sharing a bathroom?”

      Liz shrugged. “Didn’t occur to me.” She broke into a slow, wide grin. “Oh, don’t tell me that you walked in on him.”

      “He was wearing a towel.”

      Liz giggled, and Jess found it impossible to be angry at the girl. She wanted to. Really wanted to. But being angry with Liz was like being angry at a puppy.

      “Hey, babe.” Nate walked past and patted Liz’s butt then smiled at Jess. “Slugger.”

      “Back at you,” Jess said.

      He pointed to Diego, adjusting lines and prepping the boat. “You ladies going to chitchat, or are you going to help get us out of here?”

      Liz gave her husband a peck on the mouth then followed him.

      In less than an hour, they cast off and One For The Money moved past the moored boats on her way out to sea. Jess realized she had yet to see Zach since their quasi-naked encounter and a part of her—the embarrassed part— didn’t want to.

      But there was no way she could avoid him forever. Especially when she needed to give him the coordinates for their search.

      “Be a grown-up,” she told herself. “He’s just a man, for pity’s sake.”

      But a finely chiseled man, her libido whispered.

      She told her libido to shut up, rolled her eyes at her overactive hormonal response and hurried to the control room before she had a chance to change her mind.

      When she entered, Zach had his back to her. He wore black board shorts, a loose T-shirt and deck shoes. Next to him was a man of about the same height and in almost the exact same outfit.

      “Gentlemen,” she said, stepping inside, curious and cautious as to the identity of the other man. Both turned and in seconds, she knew.

      It was Alfred Holiday—Zach’s father. A twenty-somethingyears older version of his son, his hair was more gray than brown. The body a little thinner but just as muscular. He also had the same green eyes. “Pleased to meet you, Alfred,” Jess said.

      “Please, call me Al. You must be Jess,” Al said, coming forward. “Sorry I wasn’t there last night, but I had a previous engagement.”

      From the way he said it, and from the way he grinned, she had no doubt the previous engagement was of the female variety.

      “I hear that you’re getting my son into trouble.”

      She blushed, and glared at Zach. Was nothing sacred? “I know I should have knocked this morning, but I didn’t know he was there.”

      Al’s brows arched in surprise. “I was talking about the bar fight.” He glanced back at Zach. “Something you need to

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