Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

LOGAN

I f I'd thought the crew on the other rig was made up of a bunch of savage roughnecks, I'd clearly been mistaken. Those men had displayed a healthy respect for Mira, whereas the guys on this crew were acting like they'd never seen a woman before.

In the fifteen minutes it took for Mr. Stanislopoulos to rejoin us after stepping away to take a call, no less than three of his men had hit on her. Not very smoothly or eloquently either. They'd made their expectations crystal clear and it'd gone so far that even I feared for her safety on this godforsaken platform.

She and I waited outside for him, standing side by side at a railing and staring out at the calm blue water. "I'm sorry, Mira. Right now, I have half a mind to buy this damn thing just so I can get rid of those clowns once and for all."

"Don't worry about it," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "It's always that way until I command their respect. Are you starting to understand yet?"

I inclined my chin, drawing in a deep breath and remembering what Mickey and her friends had said about pursuing her, possibly costing her her career. At the time, I'd thought it was a bit of an over-exaggeration, but right now, I was absolutely certain that if she gave in once, she would lose the respect of the men—at least on a particular rig—forever and in a bad way.

I also didn't know how word traveled between these things. Was each rig an island, or did these workers gossip between the rigs?

As Stanislopoulos walked back over to us, I turned to face the older man, not missing the fact that he didn't spare her a second glance. My blood started boiling just a little bit even as he flashed me a welcoming smile.

He opened his mouth, but I didn't let him speak before I confronted him about it. "I have to say, George, I'm not very impressed by the behavior of the men aboard. They haven't been very respectful toward my consultant here at all. Some might even say they pose a danger to her while we're onboard, which makes me extremely uncomfortable."

The old man shrugged it off, simply flashing me a look that said he expected me to understand. "Some environments are made for men, Mr. Jones. I'm not sure what you were expecting when you showed up with a beautiful woman here, knowing how deprived of action these workers must be."

I arched an eyebrow at him, utterly shocked at his response. In that moment, I almost told him I'd take the rig immediately just so I'd have the pleasure of watching him and his crew being escorted right the fuck off, but I'd never made business decisions based on emotion before.

I wouldn't do it now, either, even if anger swarmed through my being like a bunch of pissed-off hornets buzzing in my veins. "Are you insinuating that just because they've been dep?—"

Mira stepped up to me then, silencing me with a mere touch of her hand to my bicep as she shook her head. "It's okay, Logan. Let's just leave. I think we've seen all we need to see."

Immediately, I nodded and placed my hand on the small of her back once more, already starting to turn her in what I thought was the direction of the helipad. "Of course, let's go. I'll be in touch, sir."

The old man blinked hard, but the surprise and disbelief didn't quite leave his eyes as he shook his head. "I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding, Mr. Jones. I thought you were spending the night with us on the rig. We've prepared cabins for you, and I'm sorry, but the chopper has already left."

"It left?" My voice rang with incredulity. "On whose orders?"

"Well, Spiers told me you might need more than one day to inspect the rig fully," he said with an apology in his voice, but only while he looked at me. It disappeared as soon as he glanced at Mira. "I'm certain this is not a problem, no? You will join us for dinner, and we will continue our business until your pilot returns in the morning."

Annoyance tightened my internal organs to the extent that I was pretty sure my blood flow had been compromised. "No, I'm afraid that won't do. I will call Derrick immediately. He can turn around. Please instruct your crew to?—"

"No, Logan," Mira said firmly from my side, glancing up at me and holding my gaze. "That's not necessary. We'll spend the night. It will give you the time you need to check everything out. If you'll excuse me though, I'd like to be shown to my bunk."

I could see how uncomfortable she was. It looked like it was taking everything she had to appear unaffected when in truth, she was disgusted. But so was I. Maybe that was why I could see it so well in her.

My stomach churned, my gut on fire over the prospect of sleeping here tonight against our will. Derrick would turn around and collect us in a heartbeat, and depending on how far he'd already gone and how long ago he'd been sent away, he could always refuel and then return, but Mira seemed determined to stay.

It was there in the set of her shoulders. She was uncomfortable, but she didn't want to give them this. It was like she was trying to say, It's fine, Logan. Let's just sleep here. I won't run from them.

I got not wanting to run, but shit. It felt like I'd be directly responsible for her discomfort if we stayed and yet, if we didn't, she'd accuse me of not treating her like I would any other coworker. Which was true.

I wouldn't have been precious about anyone else's comfort onboard. Sighing as I nodded, I looked back at Stanislopoulos but didn't drop my hand away from her back. "Would you have someone show us to our cabins?"

He nodded, tossing a hand up in the air and making an assistant appear like magic beside him. "Mr. Jones and Ms. Spiers would like to be escorted to their bunks."

The assistant nodded, giving us a wave to follow him as he wordlessly spun and started back toward the door we'd exited earlier. We hadn't been far from the cabins, it seemed. Only a few minutes after we entered the labyrinth of rusted-out hallways, we emerged at the living quarters—and Mira had to endure a few more catcalls as we made our way to her door.

"We've got you in two separate cabins," the assistant said briskly. "Yours is right here, Ms. Spiers. Mr. Jones, you're on the same hallway, but around that bend at the end. I'll take you there."

Mira nodded, barely sparing either of us another glance before she disappeared into the cabin we'd stopped in front of and I heard the audible snick of a lock sliding in place. At least she'd had the presence of mind to lock her door, but I still didn't like being so far away from her.

This was not a rig where it was safe for her to move around by herself—not now. Fully realizing that she was probably tougher than I was, I didn't want her to have to fight these guys off by herself. Especially not since there were a hell of a lot more of them than of her.

Trepidation snaked through me as the assistant turned and started down the hall again, walking for a lot longer than I'd expected before he stopped in front of another door. "This is you, Mr. Jones. Dinner will be available starting in about an hour."

"Thank you." I was short with the guy—brisk—but he didn't seem to mind, simply turning around and walking away as I let myself into my cabin to find the overnight bag I'd had on the chopper already there.

Both Mira and I had packed the basics just in case, but I hadn't expected it to go down like this. I'd already seen enough to be able to make an informed decision about the rig, and I'd been quite ready to go home .

A few hours on this thing, under the current leadership and with the current crew, had been quite enough for me. If I did decide to move forward with the purchase, a few things would definitely be changing, but I hadn't made any decisions just yet.

As I went into my cabin, I realized that even these spaces were a lot more dilapidated than they were on the other rig. The cabins there had been basic, but clean and functional. My bunk here looked like something I might've found in a prison cell, the mattress so thin and so worn that I could see the lumps between the springs.

The distinct, faint scent of old urine hung in the air, probably emanating from the adjacent bathroom that looked like it'd never seen the other side of a mop or sponge. My nose wrinkled. If this was the cabin they were putting me up in, I didn't even want to see where Mira was sleeping.

Naturally, I decided to swap with her immediately.

Grabbing my overnight bag, I strode the distance down the hallway to her cabin and knocked softly on the door. "Mira? It's almost time for dinner, but I think you should take my cabin. If you bring your stuff now, maybe we can still look around a bit before we head to the dining hall."

A few seconds later, the door cracked open and her beautiful face appeared in it, her features suddenly a pale mask of exhaustion. "What are you talking about? Why should I take your cabin?"

"Because mine is bound to be better than yours, and after seeing it, I've decided that you shouldn't be forced to sleep where you are."

Her hazel eyes flicked from one of mine to the other. "I'm fine. I'm also not hungry. Don't worry about coming to get me when it's time to eat. Just go take a look around and head to the dining hall."

"You can't stay locked in here until tomorrow morning."

"You'd be surprised." There was no emotion in her eyes when she said it. "This isn't my first rodeo, Logan. I've got more than enough work to keep me busy and I was just about to do a video call with Slate."

"Okay, but you still need to eat." I didn't know if she'd had breakfast, but we'd only had a couple sandwiches for lunch after we'd landed here. "There's no way you're going to make it to morning otherwise."

Her eyebrows pinched as she stared at me. "I won't make it? That seems a bit dramatic. Don't worry about me, okay? I'm really not hungry and I think I have a protein bar in my backpack if I feel peckish later. I'll just see you in the morning."

"Mira—"

"Logan." Her voice was gentler now, her eyes suddenly soft as they looked into my own. "Please don't make a big deal out of this. These guys are pretty darn awful, but they're no worse than I've faced before. If you keep showing up at my door, trying to convince me to move, and eat, and generally acting like an overprotective boyfriend taking care of a damsel in distress, it'll only get worse."

All kinds of emotions fired through me. Anger. Revulsion. Curiosity about how Slate handled these situations, and okay, a little bit of pity. I knew that last one shouldn't be there, but fuck.

Eventually, I did the only thing I felt I could do under the circumstances. I nodded and took a step back, showing her my palms. "Okay. I'll leave it. I am coming by again later to check on you, though. And don't even try telling me not to do it. I'll be here."

A soft smile appeared on her lips as she nodded, causing the messy bun she'd made at the top of her head to bounce with the movements. "I'll see you later then, but I'll be fine."

As she closed the door, I bristled with anger, shoving all the other emotions out of the way to make room for that to come out and play. This was all entirely unacceptable.

We'd been shown Stanislopoulos's office when we'd had those sandwiches, and I headed toward it—or at least, toward where I thought it was—to find the man and tell him that we needed to talk business. The sooner I could get Mira safely off this rig, the better, and I wasn't going to let anyone make me stay for even a minute longer than I had to.