3. Knox

"Just when I think it can't get any worse…" Ryder said as he dropped into the deckchair beside Knox's. They were on the swim platform, both for security purposes and because it was the quietest place on the yacht. Over the past couple of days, they'd tightened up procedures, meaning the guard in the marina office was no longer waving strangers through, and the crew were questioning anyone they didn't recognise rather than leaving it to Jubilee and her clipboard.

"What did Luna do now?" Knox asked.

"Wasn't her. Kory hit on me outside the bathroom."

Knox's bark of laughter made the deckhand cleaning the windows look across in alarm. But fuck, it was funny. Almost as funny as Kory getting relegated to the lower deck because Luna insisted on sleeping in the master stateroom on the main deck.

Knox's fears about getting propositioned by a woman who hated taking "no" for an answer had so far proven unfounded. Most of the time, she just blanked him, although her inappropriate requests included—but weren't limited to—asking him to take off his shirt to "add ambience" to one of her social media posts, demanding he make her a passion fruit martini at one thirty in the morning, and telling him to stay ten paces back because she didn't like his cologne.

He hadn't even been wearing cologne.

On Tuesday evening, she'd whined about camera flashes ruining her dinner with Kory at the Sugar Reef Brasserie, but she'd also ordered Jubilee to make sure the paparazzi knew she was there. On Wednesday morning, she'd climbed on top of an antique cannon at Fort Charlotte even though the guide asked her not to, and then kicked up a fuss when she got asked to leave. Wednesday afternoon, they'd actually taken the yacht out, and she'd spent the afternoon sipping cocktails in the saloon while Kory and a couple more friends zoomed around on jet skis. The excursion ended sooner than Knox had anticipated—jet skis were banned in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, and the coastguard had escorted them back to the marina after a "don't you know who my father is" argument with Kory. Fuckin' rich kids.

Today? Today, Luna and Jubilee had talked business over breakfast. Social media engagement was trending in the wrong direction, which Jubilee said could be seasonal, but Luna wasn't a girl who liked negativity. She wanted those numbers up again. Right now, she was brainstorming a plan, and Knox just knew he wasn't going to enjoy the result.

"Did you let Kory down gently?" he asked Ryder.

"I reminded him about my ‘boyfriend,' and he said that what happens in Saint Vincent stays in Saint Vincent."

"Next time you pretend you're gay, remember to check whether the client's entitled friend is also into cock."

"It was a ‘lesser of two evils' situation. Luna's a succubus. Beautiful on the outside, but exhausting, and she'd sure as hell turn a man's life upside down."

True. Knox leaned back in his chair and stared up at the blue sky. "Could be worse."

"How?"

"Could be raining."

Ryder's turn to laugh. "And at least nobody's shooting at us."

Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind them, soft, but Knox was attuned to every movement. He turned to see Jubilee hesitate and beckoned her forward. She wasn't smiling, but then again, she rarely did look happy. Was that any surprise, given that she worked for Luna?

"Everything okay?"

She shook her head, then checked behind her, furtive. What was the problem?

"There's been another message," she said, her voice a whisper.

"Message?"

"From the guy."

"I didn't realise you were aware of the…communications." How much did Jubilee know?

"I have access to the inbox. Aunt Amethyst said we shouldn't tell Luna because she'll freak out. I mean, some of the stuff the guy says is really nasty."

It was. The background file included copies of the messages, and Knox had read them on the flight over. The writer called her his pretty little whore and described his fantasies in graphic detail. How he wanted to drag her into the shadows, hold his hand over her mouth, and fuck her while people close by remained oblivious. That was what she craved, right? Why else would she lie out in public almost naked? How he wanted her to sing for him, then grip his shaft as he emptied his balls down her throat on a high note. How he wanted to slice off the tiny dresses she wore and plug every hole while she begged him for more. And she would beg. She was gagging for it, wasn't she?

"Show me," Knox ordered.

Jubilee handed over an iPad, and he squinted through the glare on the screen.

You looked so pretty yesterday, my little slut. Were you imagining me as you rode that cannon? Did you think of my dick exploding in your tight little pussy? One day, I'm going to show you what a real man can do. One day soon.

William S

"He's no Shakespeare," Ryder muttered.

No, he wasn't. But he was nearby. He'd been at Fort Charlotte on Wednesday. The pictures Luna had posted on social media showed her standing on the cannon, balanced on one leg with her arms extended in some yoga pose. War versus peace in St Vincent #Namaste. She'd gotten forty-three thousand likes so far. But before she began posing for the camera, she'd been sitting astride the cannon's barrel, laughing as Jubilee told her to get off.

And Fakespeare had been there, watching.

Fuck.

Knox usually had a good sense for danger—he needed those instincts to stay alive—but he hadn't felt the man's presence. Nobody standing a little too still, no glances lingering a little too long. Just the usual tourists meandering around, admiring the view and taking photos without standing on historic artifacts.

"This arrived yesterday, and you're only telling us now?" Knox's words came out harsher than he intended, and Jubilee flinched.

"I-I don't have time to read all the messages myself. An assistant in the US usually looks through them first and flags the important ones, but she was off sick until this morning."

"We can't afford any more delays like that, not with Luna's safety at stake."

"I understand. If Sindee gets sick again, I'll make sure I go through the inboxes. You don't think we should tell Luna what's happening?"

"Personally, yes I do, but it's not my decision to make. Ryder and I are just here to throw ourselves in front of the bullets."

It was meant to be a joke, but Jubilee didn't laugh. Her eyes widened.

"You think someone might try to shoot her?"

"Well, those messages don't seem very friendly. What are the chances of getting her to reconsider her trip to Bar None tonight?"

The nightclub would be difficult to secure, and Luna wouldn't want to sit quietly in the VIP area. Luna didn't sit quietly anywhere. The last time she'd visited Bar None, Kory had played an impromptu DJ set, and she'd joined him on stage in an outfit that made an OnlyFans model look modest. The video on her official Instagram profile suggested her antics had been harmless. The photos in the tabloids of a bodyguard rushing her out of the building, beer bottles flying, after the drunken crowd got out of hand, told a different story. But in Luna's eyes, no publicity was bad publicity, and she'd sure gotten column inches out of the drama.

Jubilee perked up and smiled for the first time since she appeared. "The chances are good, actually. The manager at Bar None won't let Kory play another set, so they're planning to go to San Gallicano instead."

Knox took a calming breath. "San Gallicano? As in a whole other country?"

"I mean, it's not far away. Only a couple of hours by boat. And the last time we were there, Luna took an amazing photo with a turtle and got two hundred thousand likes on Insta."

Knox had seen that one. She'd put a pair of Gucci sunglasses on the poor creature and posed next to it with a cocktail. Tipsy turtle, lol.#JustChillin #EcoWarrior #SanGalli. The comments had been a toxic mess of Hey, that's so cute and I love you Luna and Are you crazy, turtles are endangered and You suck, dumb bitch.

"Don't we need visas?"

"No, there's a waiver program. Last time, we just filled out tourist arrival cards, and the captain got somebody to stamp them."

"We haven't run background for San Gallicano," Ryder pointed out.

Knox knew little about the place, only that it was an archipelago to the west of Saint Vincent. What were the rules on guns there? And how many bars might Luna get into trouble at? Were there cannons? Did San Gallicano have any ancient monuments for her to defile?

"Does that matter?" Jubilee asked. "It's real quiet there."

On any other day, Knox would have argued against the trip, but spending a few days in San Gallicano could be beneficial. Fakespeare was in Saint Vincent, and by the time he caught up with Luna's movements and followed them across the Caribbean Sea, Luna would probably have gotten bored and they'd be on their way back again. Plus Knox and Ryder were former Navy SEALs. They were used to adapting on the fly and making the best of adverse conditions.

"When do we leave?" he asked Jubilee.

Being realistic, if Luna had made up her mind about something, a complaint from a minion wasn't going to change it.

"As soon as the beauty therapist finishes Luna's nails."

How long would that be? Thirty minutes? An hour? Why did women paint their nails anyway?

"Okay, we'll work with it."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked brightly.

"Can you convince Luna to wear a kaftan?"

"Oh, I don't think she'd like that."

"Then no, there's nothing you can do to help."

Seven weeks to go, and the end of this job couldn't come soon enough.