“You didn’t ask her?” Santo asked with surprise.
Raffaele shook his head.
“Are you kidding me?” Zanipolo asked with disbelief. “You finally meet your mate and you did not even ask her name?”
Raffaele opened his mouth to respond, but was forestalled when the woman in his arms suddenly began to shriek and thrash wildly about.
Four
Jess had been dreaming that Vasco had caught up to her, pulled her from the ocean, and was carrying her to his cabin to ravish her and turn her into his vampire whore when voices pierced her dreams and dragged her from sleep. The first words that she heard clearly as she reached consciousness were, “Are you kidding me? You finally meet your mate and you did not even ask her name?”
Blinking her eyes open, she’d found herself staring up at three heads bent over her, their faces in shadow. Jess had been sure it was Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria. And then she’d become aware of liquid dripping on her from one of them and—positive it was Tyler’s blood dripping from Ildaria’s gruesome, blood-covered face—well, it had been pure instinct to shriek in horror and fury and begin to struggle.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now. We’ll protect you.”
The words were a litany Jess suspected had been repeated many times, but she didn’t really hear them and grasp their meaning until the three heads broke apart and the one carrying her rushed to set her down on something and then backed away. It was only then that she was able to see the faces of the three people in the room with her. The light was now overhead rather than behind their faces and Jess recognized that there wasn’t a Vasco, Cristo, or Ildaria among them. In fact, it was three strangers. All male and one of them soaking wet.
It had been water dripping on her face, Jess realized, and she reached up to run her finger over the wet spot. She then pulled it away to peer at what she’d collected on her fingertip just to be sure. Yes, clear liquid, not blood.
Sighing, Jess slumped wearily back on what she now saw was a couch and surveyed the three men eyeing her warily from the other side of the coffee table. They were all attractive, each in a different way. The one on the left had black mid-length hair that looked a little shaggy, as if he were trying to grow it out. He also wore a black T-shirt and black jeans. His body was made up of lean muscle, leaving him tall and lanky.
The one in the middle, on the other hand, was bald as a cue ball and carrying some serious mass. He definitely worked out. He also apparently liked jewelry, Jess decided as she noted that every one of his fingers seemed to sport a thick silver ring.
Her gaze shifted to the last man, the one on the right, and she blinked as she peered at him. He had short, dark hair that was soaking wet and slicked back from his face. But she noted that almost distractedly, because her attention seemed to be taken up with trying to look over every inch of his body. The man was standing there in only a pair of body-hugging black briefs . . . and what a body to hug. He was more muscular than the lean one, but not as Hulk-ish as the big one. In truth, with nice, muscular shoulders, narrowing down to an eight-or ten-pack stomach, he was just perfect, and then there was the package the briefs were hugging . . . which was growing, Jess realized, and knew she should politely avert her eyes, but just couldn’t seem to. Instead, she stared with fascination, her exhausted mind for some reason recalling the story of Pinocchio.
“Right. Shall we talk now, or would you two like to put on some clothes first so I can stop feeling like a perv?”
The lean guy was the one who asked that question, and his tone of pained amusement managed to drag Jess’s attention away from the amazing Penisocchio. The moment her weary gaze landed on him, the lean guy gestured vaguely to her chest while averting his eyes. Jess glanced down and then squawked in dismay and scrambled to cover herself when she saw that her torn T-shirt had come undone and her life jacket had shifted, leaving one breast to play peekaboo. It was presently flashing them its nipple.
“I will fetch you both towels,” the big guy said solemnly as she reached under the life jacket, caught at the damp cloth of the torn T-shirt, and dragged it over the exposed breast. He then slipped through the open double doors behind him into the bedroom off this sitting area. The main bathroom was off the bedroom, which Jess knew because this room was an exact duplicate of the one she shared with—
“Allison!” she cried, sitting up with alarm. Glancing from Lean Guy to Penisocchio almost frantically, she said, “You need to call the authorities. We have to help Allison. And the others,” she added with a frown, wondering if Tyler even could be helped. She wasn’t sure; he might be a vampire now but the others might still be all right. Vasco would have discovered she was missing by now and be searching for her. Surely, he would have the crew concentrate on that rather than feasting on the tourists. Wouldn’t he?
“Who is Vasco?” the lean one asked.
Jess jerked her head up sharply, her gaze narrowing suspiciously at the question. She hadn’t told them about Vasco. How did he know the name?
“You mentioned the name Vasco as well as Cristo and Ildaria while you were unconscious. You must have been having nightmares,” Lean Guy explained as if she’d asked the question aloud.
“Oh,” Jess breathed, and relaxed. She had been dreaming about Vasco and the pirate ship just before she woke up. She just hadn’t known she talked in her sleep, Jess thought, her gaze shifting to the big guy when he returned to the room with two towels.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the towel he offered to her before giving the other to Penisocchio. For a moment, Jess just sat staring at the towel, her mind slow to tell her what to do with it, and then movement drew her gaze to Penisocchio as he quickly scrubbed it over his damp hair. When he then started to run it over his arms and chest, Jess peered down at herself and frowned at the bulky life jacket she wore.
She’d have to take the vest off to dry herself, Jess supposed wearily, and forced herself to stand. Her legs were shaky, but they held her up and she turned her back to the men to concentrate on removing the life jacket. Her arms felt incredibly heavy when she lifted them, and her fingers were trembling and clumsy, making the task more difficult, but Jess managed to unbuckle and remove the bulky life jacket. She immediately let it drop to the floor with a little sigh. It was a great relief to get it off. She’d fastened it tightly to ensure she didn’t slip out of it while battling the waves, but after hours of it rubbing her skin raw, Jess almost would rather have slid out of the darned thing.
Shifting her attention to her ruined T-shirt, Jess pulled the ends together, and retied the knot between her breasts. She then made a hasty effort at drying her arms and legs before giving it up as too much work and simply wrapping the towel around herself sarong-style. Feeling a little more put together, Jess then turned to face the men again.
Penisocchio, she noted, had been busy while her back was turned. He’d finished drying himself, doing a much more thorough job than her, she was sure, and now had the towel wrapped around his waist. He’d also donned a tight white T-shirt, although Lean Guy still held a pair of jeans dangling from one hand. Jess supposed these were the clothes he’d been wearing before jumping in the water to save her and that he didn’t want to pull the jeans on over damp briefs. Whatever the case, there would be no more watching the bulge in his briefs grow, Jess realized, and felt a keen disappointment that made her frown.
Good Lord, she was all about the sex tonight, wasn’t she? Jess asked herself with disgust. First it was a fight to not become a vampirate’s bloodsucking whore, and now she was entirely too interested in Penisocchio’s package. What on earth was the matter with her?
“We should introduce ourselves,” Lean Guy said, his tone abrupt. When Jess turned her gaze to him, he pointed to Penisocchio and said, “That’s Raffaele.”
“Raffaele,” Jess murmured, managing a smile of greeting. It was a much nicer name than Penisocchio. Shorter too.
“This big guy is Santo.”
Jess shifted her attention to the bald man now as he offered her a nod of greeting, his face solemn. Following his example, she didn’t smile but offered a polite nod in return.
“I’m Zanipolo,” Lean Guy finished, and before she could react at all to the unusual name, he raised his eyebrows and asked, “And you are?”
“Jess,” she said quietly, and then bent to pick up the life vest she’d discarded. Clasping the bulky vest to her chest, she hesitated, and then asked, “May I use your bathroom?”
“Of course,” Raffaele said at once.
“Thanks.” Jess managed a smile and made her way on shaky feet to the small hallway between the sitting area and the suite’s entrance. As expected, there was a door on the right that led to into a full, but compact, bathroom. It was the same in the suite she and Allison shared.
Worry assailed her at the thought of her cousin. She really needed to get help for Allison and the others. As annoying as her cousin was, she couldn’t just leave her to the vampires. After she finished in the bathroom, she’d thank Raffaele and the other two men for their assistance, and then leave and head to reception to make them call in the local police.
Raffaele watched Jess disappear into the bathroom and then turned and strode quickly into the bedroom and straight to his suitcase.
“Are you sure you cannot read her thoughts?” Santo asked, following him with Zanipolo on his heels.
“Yes. I tried again when we got back here,” Raffaele admitted, digging out a pair of clean dry briefs, and then he jerked his head up and eyed his cousins with concern. “Can you two read her?”
When both men nodded, he sagged with relief and then headed for the much larger, ensuite
bathroom off the bedroom. The fact that he couldn’t read her while the other two could meant she was definitely his life mate and that she wasn’t just crazy. Those were the only two reasons an immortal couldn’t read a mortal.
Raffaele whipped off the towel he’d fastened around his waist as he entered the bathroom. He paused in the middle of the room, tossed the towel across the end of the tub, and turned back to see his cousins had followed. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “So what happened to her? What was the boat she was on? Who were Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria? How big a nest are we dealing with?”