My irritation is tempered when I realize that it’s only because he’s well aware of who the man is sitting next to me. At least now I know what kind of reputation Magnus has in this city. It’s the same one he has in the world of business: fearsome.
Magnus gives him a hard look, waving his hand in my direction.
“Oui,” the man mutters so softly I barely hear it as he quickly nods and pours a sample for me, making sure to plant an ingratiating and apologetic smile on his lips as he does.
I go through the motions, swirling and sniffing it before taking a sip. God, but it’s good. I nod, setting the glass down.
“Oui, madame,” he says, pouring us both a glass.
I watch him leave then turn my attention back to Magnus, who is eyeing me with a subtle smile.
“So is it madame, or mademoiselle?”
I hold my left hand up and wriggle my fingers to show the lack of a ring.
Magnus laughs. It’s a strong, rich, impressive sound, much like the man himself. “In my experience, a lack of a wedding ring means nothing. You wouldn’t be the first lioness to hunt for bigger game than the one she’s currently settled on.”
“Who in this situation is really the hunter?” I ask, giving him a direct look as I take a sip.
“You tell me.” His gaze is just as direct. “Why the interest in the Mako?”
I swallow my sip and turn to look at it. “It has an interesting aesthetic, different from the others.”
“That’s the way I had it made.”
There’s something in his voice that draws my attention back to him. He’s staring at the yacht as though it’s his personal nemesis rather than a prized possession, one he respects and admires…but also resents.
When he feels my gaze on him, he turns back to me.
“Why call it the Mako?” I ask.
Something fierce and dark colors his eyes, turning them into dark-green forests of pure malevolence. I have no idea what’s hidden behind that look, but I pity whoever has evoked this reaction in him.
“Sharks have always fascinated me, the mako in particular. It’s one of the fastest, most relentless, deadliest fish in the sea. He has a specific way of hunting, swimming underneath his prey, completely unobserved until it’s too late. When the attack comes, it’s by surprise—sudden, before the prey even realizes it was being hunted. But the mako takes his time feeding, tearing away at the flesh until the target is immobilized, often dying a slow, painful death.”
The swallow of wine I’ve just taken makes a painful trek down my throat. It plunges into the turmoil that’s beginning to stir in my stomach, warning me that I’m swimming in treacherous waters.
I knew Magnus had a dangerous reputation, but I hadn’t realized it might verge on the psychopathic. I assumed the mako was just a metaphor for his business dealings, but this intensity in him is…something else.
I’m appalled to find that it doesn’t turn me off to the man as much as it should. In fact, it stirs something in me that has a hint of sizzling electricity and excitement, even admiration. I wish I could be as ruthlessly ambitious with certain people in my life. Maybe I’d be a partner by now.
Focus, Sloane.
I think of my brother back in New York, still with a pendulum of death hanging over his head. Each moment I linger here in Monte Carlo without getting information is another inch closer to both of us ending up in a ditch somewhere.
Damn you, Theo!
I tear my gaze away from Magnus’s eyes, which still contain the lingering traces of venom. I settle them back on the Mako, watching a man in a crisp white shirt and shorts scurry along the deck to disappear inside.
“I noticed there is a lot of activity on board. Are you planning on taking it out soon?” I inquire, bringing my attention back to him and taking a sip of wine.
Magnus stares at me for a moment, using the time to take a sip as well.
“Again, admirable choice in wine,” he says after swallowing.
Rather than acknowledge the compliment—I don’t need to be told it’s damn good wine—I wait for him to answer my question.
A tiny whisper of a smile touches his lips. “I’m having a small gathering tomorrow night.”
I wait, knowing from experience in my job that silence is the best motivator to keep people talking.
Magnus doesn’t bite. Instead, he continues to sip his wine in silence.
So that’s it then. I should have known he wouldn’t be an easy nut to crack. I’ll have to think of an alternate avenue to get inside that head of his while I still have him. I sigh to myself and try to at least savor the five-hundred euros swirling around in my glass.
“Actually, I was planning on going out on the water today.” My eyes pop back up to him. “Since you’ve been so generous with your wine, perhaps you’d be willing to accompany me? Unless, of course, you have alternate plans?”
I still the beating of my heart, hoping he can’t see it reflected in the pulse along my neck. “No plans. I’d love to join you.”
“Bien,” he says with a smile that just barely reaches his eyes.
I’m reminded of the words he spoke just a few minutes ago, describing the hunting method of the mako shark.
And I’ve just agreed to go on to the water with him.
Chapter Four Sloane
Magnus finishes the last of what’s left in his glass and then sets it down. When he rises, I stare at him in disbelief.
“There’s still half a bottle left,” I say, not even embarrassed at how indignant my voice sounds.
Maybe he can afford to walk away from a half-finished, five-hundred-euro bottle of wine as though it’s soda that’s gone flat; for the rest of us, the sting is significant.
“We’ll bring it with us.”
Before I can even ask if that’s permitted, he has the waiter’s
