Boarding Party (The Billionaire's Demands #2) Read online

  © 2013

  The names of people and places in this story are purely fiction and are not

  intended to represent any particular person or place.

  1.

  Anna's jet ski weaved back and forth across the choppy waters of the Mediterranean. The engine buzzed with enthusiasm as she put the machine through its paces. Nearby, other members of the sailing party zipped about on their own personal watercraft.

  Adam Phillips was among them, and he distinguished himself this morning, being by far the most daring of the bunch in his maneuvering. His craft dodged and weaved, darting to and fro amongst the other revelers. Numerous times, it seemed as though Phillips was about to collide with someone else, only to avoid it at the last moment. Riotous laughter followed from all involved.

  "No wonder there's no one who can stop him on Wall Street," Anna thought. "His child-like energy never seems to be exhausted." In work or in play, or in anything else, Phillips never slowed down. He reminded her in his mannerisms very much of some of her energetic boyfriends from her younger days. It turned her on.

  They had enjoyed a delightful banquet on deck late into the early morning hours, before everyone retired to their quarters. Even with a full eight hours of sleep, Anna could still feel her experience from the day before. Her leg strength had returned, but she ached and throbbed down below.

  The first challenge had tested her limits, and although she had handled herself well, everything had a consequence. She felt it today. All that being said, Anna, despite her concerns, had to admit that the aftershock of the deckhand's ravaging performance didn't feel entirely bad.

  "Anna!" Phillips shouted, waving his left arm as he circled around to approach her. "Stay right there, I want to pull alongside!"

  She killed the throttle and brought her craft to a slow halt. Bobbing on the waves as they lapped at her jet ski, Anna watched him approach. She didn't have to wait long before he had pulled up alongside.

  "It's good to see you in fighting shape so soon, Anna," he said, looking at her toned, bare legs as they clutched the sides of her jet ski. Droplets of water coated them, and she had already developed something of a tan on them. She had chosen a swimsuit that would accentuate them, and she made no effort to be bashful now as he eyed her over.

  "You're in rare form today, too, Mr. Phillips," Anna said, looking him over and squinting her eyes. The sun, still rising, lay behind him above the horizon. Salty sea water covered his form-fitting wetsuit. Anna had to concede that his figure was superb. Higher up, sea spray had added a misty coat to his stubble. In his recovery from last night's feasting and drinking, Phillips hadn't taken the time to shave, and he had a healthy shadow to show for it.

  The more casual look suited him, and proved a nice change of pace from what Anna had grown accustomed to seeing while at work. Phillips looked very much the wealthy playboy today.

  "How do you feel?" he asked. "Really?" he added.

  "Free. Liberated," Anna replied without hesitation. It was the truth. Her experience from the day before had broken down barriers. "Sore."

  Phillips roared with laughter.

  "All true, I'm sure."

  "And you?" Anna asked, bringing the conversation back to Phillips. "This is a change from the ordinary for you, also."

  "It is. But even out here, I don't always get a chance to use these things," he said, running his hands over the controls. "Beautiful things."

  "He's mounted in the wrong place," Anna said to herself, watching Phillips as he straddled the watercraft. "I wish he'd run his hands over me like that."

  "The last time I was out, things kept coming up - calls, visitors, you know the drill - and I was in port before I even remembered we had these stowed in the lower hold." Phillips continued to run his hands over the machine, lost in thought about his disappointment from the last trip.

  "I'm glad you suggested we take a light breakfast this morning," Anna said, changing the subject. They both rocked up and down against the waves as they sat on their rides, which emphasized her point.

  "I know what you mean. There's no sense in spoiling the whole day by getting sick," Phillips replied, his face clearly thinking about something else. He revealed the something else. "You'll need your strength today again, if you're going to stay on board my ship." He gave her a raunchy smile.

  "I have my sea legs," Anna shot back, patting her thighs with a free hand. "Don't worry about me."

  "Brave words, as you still have no idea what I have in store for you! Truth be told, though, neither do I!"

  "No? I thought a man like you would always be prepared."

  "I wouldn't say 'unprepared,' Anna," Phillips said to her, mulling her words over. "I have any number of options, it's just a matter of choosing one. It's so hard to decide. But fear not, I'll let you know once I've made up my mind."

  "I can't wait."

  "No doubt. Rest assured, I took note of your tenacity after yesterday's effort. I can't go too easy on you, can I?"

  "I hadn't been expecting you to."

  "Quite right. Just remember also that this set of challenges has a purpose. I'm not here just to try to break you. I want to test you."

  "How have I scored so far?" Anna asked expectantly.

  "Think of it more like a pass-fail kind of test, Anna," he replied quickly. "There's no partial credit here, but the reward for successful completion, as you know, is quite spectacular."

  "Go ahead and chalk up my victory, sir," Anna replied confidently. "...while you're waiting to decide which test I'll pass next." With that, she kicked the throttle into high gear and left him basking in her back spray.

  Undaunted, Phillips wiped his face clean and followed her in pursuit back to the High Roller.

  2.

  "You know, if you ever want to help me change, you can," Anna said bravely as she emerged from her cabin, offering the opportunity to Phillips as he stood outside as he had the day before. She had gone in to get into proper day clothes and Phillips, in the middle of a conversation with her, had waited outside. Anna had thought it a bit silly that he gave her privacy to change, given everything that had been going on.

  "Don't you think that would remove a healthy professional distance?" Phillips countered evasively. He inspected her attire, once again a light spring dress - this time mint green in color. She also wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and some designer flip-flops.

  "That's up to you, you're the boss," Anna said, conceding his dominion over her with her tone. "Would you call what I've done so far on this trip something conducive to a professional distance?"

  "A fair point, Anna," Phillips admitted. "As you have learned, though, money and power bring with them privileges. I do as I want, in the way that I want to do it."

  "Clearly," Anna said as she began her walk to the stairs up to the deck. Phillips followed.

  "I must have thrown you for quite a loop, with this scenario I've concocted. Am I right?"

  "Yes," she replied. "To say the least."

  "The thought of doing something like this has never before crossed my mind, Anna." Phillips explained. "But then again, no one - at least to my knowledge - has ever tried to embezzle millions of dollars from me. Everything about this is new to me as well as to you."

  "So you're saying we're on equal footing here?!" Anna was incredulous, although she kept her calm.

  "Not at all!" Phillips said, sure of himself. "For us to be on equal footing at this point would be a strange arrangement. You stole from me. That necessarily creates an imbalance, and it is an imbalance I am attempting to reflect in these challenges."

  They had reached the top deck. The bright sun shone d
own on the yacht, baking the decks even before midday had hit. Ten miles out, the coast was but a faint whisper at this point.

  "I feel so fresh after that," Anna said.

  The wind blew across the deck and rustled her hair. The ride out on the water, followed by the change of clothes, rejuvenated her. It made her feel alive and alert. She walked to the rail at the side of the deck and leaned against it, watching out over the water.

  "I feel... dirty," Phillips responded, as he followed her to the rail. He seemed bored, now that the action out on the watercraft had concluded. His eyes were on the horizon, searching. They had fixed on something.

  Crawling along the bounds of the horizon was a small, white shape.

  "A ship?" Anna studied it, but could not make out any details.

  "Yes, a ship. Approaching us, too, if I see it correctly." Phillips squinted his eyes. "Could it be?... No, it's no use," he said, frustrated. "Come with me. We'll go to the bridge and get a better look at her!"

  Obeying, Anna walked after him. Phillips had already set off, almost at a trot, to the stairs inside that led higher up to the control room on the top level. He did not wait for her, but she found her way all the same.

  The way he spoke of the ships as women aroused her. She could tell that it was a way of him of describing things to be controlled, if not dominated. 1950s or not, she couldn't deny that she liked it. With his prurient interest in these challenges of his, she wondered whether Phillips had at least a passing interest in viewing her that way.

  By the time she reached the bridge, Phillips had already produced a looking glass, which he drew level with the horizon and held to an eye.

  "Aha!" he exclaimed, with pride in his voice. "I knew it, even from this severe angle. It's Santiago! It's The Booty of the Seven Seas."

  "Are they approaching us, then?" Anna asked him, hoping he would pay attention at some point.

  "Yes," Phillips said to her, still looking through the lens. He turned to a crewman stationed inside the bridge. "Put me in touch with her, I'm sure she's listening." His hand reached out and clutched the air, signaling the crewman to hurry.

  "Yes, boss."

  In a moment, Phillips was on the line with someone from the other vessel, speaking in excited Spanish. Anna, with training only in French, could not decipher it. Evidently, the person to whom he was speaking relinquished the communicator to another man, who spoke in a deeper, brusker voice.

  She could hear back-and-forth between the pair. Phillips laughed, cajoled, sounded apologetic, and shouted in turn. His idleness on the deck, although merely momentary, seemed to have recharged his batteries, as he let out his bursting energy through the radio.

  Eventually, he had spoken his peace. When he put down the receiver on the console, Anna questioned him.

  "What's all that about? Who are they?"

  "I spoke with Santiago," Phillips explained to her. He signaled that he needed her to move before he could leave the bridge. She stepped aside and he led the way back down to where they had been. "Let's watch him approach, shall we?"

  "Okay." She hesitated, remembering the bulldog of a man she had seen at the aft of the other ship. "Is he coming aboard?"

  "Yes, and so are a number of his men," Phillips said over his shoulder as he descended a narrow flight of stairs.

  "Is he still angry about you dousing him with saltwater?" she called ahead to him.

  "He handled it remarkably well, I'd say. For a billionaire, anyway." Phillips shrugged.

  "That's good, right?"

  "Anna..." Phillips slowed down to let her catch up to him. He softened his voice. "I've offered him an olive branch for my impertinence yesterday."

  "Oh?"

  "You."

  "That's your challenge?" Anna said, confidence showing in her voice. "I saw the man. He's no more than five feet tall. How hard could he be for me to handle after yesterday?"

  "You misunderstand me. That's not the challenge." They had reached the railing again. The other ship appeared to be quite a bit closer now, its powerful engines bringing it along at a good clip.

  "What, then?"

  "His men. All of ten of them. On the forward deck." The words took a moment to register.

  "Sir, you've got to be fucking kidding me. After what I did yesterday? After what you said earlier about it not being just a physical challenge?!"

  "Especially after what you did yesterday. Especially after what I said earlier."

  "You let me go out on the water earlier on that jet ski. I'll be exhausted!"

  "You can take a lounge chair if you feel you need one."

  "Outrageous!" Anna said, flabbergasted at his boyish taunting. She pushed off from the railing. "You're cheating. What you're doing is cheating. You're trying to just wear me down!" Her hands were crossed.

  "Maybe, but I think you'll find that those sailors will be so hungry to get their turn that they won't last very long at all."

  "Small consolation." She didn't admit it, but the thought of the men burning for her lit a fire inside of her.

  "Tell me that when you're through with them."

  "When they're through with me, you mean?" she said, correcting him.

  "No. I said it correctly. I think I've judged you correctly. These men that are coming aboard, view them as a predator." Two fingers went to his eyes. "I want to see a killer instinct."

  "I thought that you wanted a killer instinct in the workplace, not in bed."

  "No, it's all the same. It's a way of life. It never turns off."

  "Killer instinct, huh?" Anna asked, eying Phillips over. He felt her look.

  "Eye on the prize, Anna," he smiled. She couldn't tell whether it was genuine. "One challenge at a time. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

  "Ahead of ourselves," Anna mused. "So maybe he's thinking it, too."

  "Santiago is good, very good. But he's not the best. He sees this as a peace offering. He'll see his men having a grand time, but he'll miss what I'm doing here. He is bad about missing the heart of the matter. I want you to conquer them. Break them, wear them down. Chew them up. I'll be watching."

  "I still don't know whether you're just lying to me," she said to him bluntly, "but you've convinced me."

  "Good, because they're on their way already." In the distance, but not quite so far off now, a sizable launch cast off from the other yacht and zipped across the dark blue waters toward them. "It's you against them. Don't let me down."

  3.

  Crewmen from the High Roller, working quickly, lashed the large launch to the aft rails of the ship. With the smaller vessel pulled alongside, the occupants slowly made their way onto the rear landing area. Anna watched with trepidation from a higher deck.

  Santiago came off first, smoking a thick cigar. Decked in thin, light clothing suitable to the climate and dark sunglasses, he cut a fine figure. He would have looked right at home running a posh vineyard in Argentina. With his short strides, he needed more help than the others in coming aboard.

  Behind him were members of his crew, similarly attired. Younger men, tanned as well as their leader, they seemed merry. They laughed and joked with one another, and undoubtedly had all been told the purpose of their coming aboard.

  "You will want to go and get ready," Phillips said, approaching her from behind. "They're like bulls being let out of the gate. Soon they'll be looking for you on the deck."

  "Aren't you going to go and greet them?" she asked. The odor of the cigar wafted its way up to her.

  "On my own yacht?" Phillips seemed taken aback by the proposal. "No. They know I own it. They know I've invited them. They also know why I've invited them."

  "So I'm the welcome mat?"

  "No need to be so dramatic, Anna. It goes without saying that I would hope you'd make their stay here pleasurable."

  "I'll do what I can."

  "I know you will. Let's do it, then. Come with me." He stepped back from the railing and invited her to follow. They made their way forward.

&n
bsp; On the front deck, an arena had been set up by members of the High Roller's crew. In the center they had placed one of the reclining lounge chairs, complete with a soft cushion cover. Around the perimeter, chairs and other lounge chairs had been laid as an observation area.

  "You're all going to... watch?" Anna asked. The idea of it got her blood pumping. "Even you?"

  "It's my boat, Anna," Phillips said matter-of-factly, betraying no feelings he might have had about the issue. "And you're my assistant. Why shouldn't I watch?"

  "You said something earlier about 'professional distance.'" Anna hadn't forgotten.

  "So I did. This is different. This is not one-on-one, in your cabin. This is me amongst my crew and one of my colleagues, as a group."

  "I think you enjoy it."

  "I'm pleased with my idea, yes." They could hear excited chatter approaching from the rear of the vessel. "Now is your chance to back out, Anna. There's no shame in it."

  "Not a chance."

  "It looks like the first of them are coming down the walkway," Phillips said as he cocked his head over to the first arrivals. Santiago was at their helm. "I want you to go ahead and lay down on the recliner."

  4.

  The men had formed a semi-circle around the recliner, talking amongst themselves and leering at Anna. She could see their desire. It felt as though they were undressing her from across the deck.

  "Who knows how long they've been at sea without a woman?" she asked herself rhetorically.

  Over at a small table, Phillips and Santiago each sat on a comfortable upright chair. A server had left them a bottle of top-dollar champagne and some hors d'oeuvres. The two men didn't seem at all interested in the food, although they had taken a flute of champagne each. They sat, discussing with exaggerated gesticulations some topic in a very businesslike but friendly manner.

  From where she lay, Anna could not hear what they were talking about. Whatever bridges Phillips had burned with his motorboat stunt, he had rebuilt with this "offering." Judging by what she saw, the bargain was as good as made.