My mouth fell open. I vaguely remember them teasing and flirting when I was a child, but that had been so long ago I’d almost convinced myself they were saints. I mean, really. I thought of them as grandparents. No one wanted to imagine their Nonni and Nonna getting frisky.
“What’s the plan, Nico? Where are you going after Pantelleria?” Marco folded his arms.
Gawking, I motioned to the closed cabin door. “You are not even going to comment on what just happened? You? Miss a chance to make a dirty joke?”
He shook his head.
I wasn’t sure what to make of this side of him. He so rarely showed it. “It’s best you don’t know.”
His brows climbed into his hairline. “You have no idea where you’re going after you get them settled, do you?”
Times like these I hated that he knew me so well. “I haven’t decided.”
He winced and scratched his ear. “The company jet is in Comiso—”
“No.” I refused to drag him deeper into this mess. “It’s one thing for the boat to be away from the harbor, but if the plane leaves, too, it will be obvious you helped me.”
Marco tilted his head. “Do you have cash?”
Nope. I’m broke, homeless, and smell like week-old fish guts. I had a mountain of money at my disposal, but I didn’t dare access it. My father would undoubtably be keeping tabs on any bank account and credit card activity. “I have enough to get to New Orleans. The last time I was there, I hid a fake passport and the funds to get me to my final destination in a safe deposit box.”
“How very James Bond of you.” He spoke in a ridiculous British accent.
“A girl can never be too prepared.” I couldn’t help but smile. I knew it. He couldn’t be serious for more than five minutes.
“You probably want a shower. Use the other cabin and make yourself at home.” Marco looked me over and did his best to appear more amused than concerned.
Self-conscious about my appearance and smell, I hurried to the vacant stateroom. “I don’t have any clean clothes.”
Following me, Marco reached over his shoulder and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
I had a hard time bringing myself to look away from his rippling muscles. However, as much as I would have loved to get physical with Marco, I couldn’t add another complication to my life. I’d always had a crush on him, but I’d known better than to pursue it. I’d have better luck catching moonlight in a jar than tying him down.
“I’ll give you anything you need.” He tossed the shirt at me.
I hugged the still warm fabric to my chest. My God, he smells like sin. “Let me guess…including the shirt off your back?”
“And my jeans.” He perused my lower half.
Ignoring the flutters in my stomach, I squared my shoulders. “I’m good with this, thank you.”
“Okay, but if one of us is going to be running around without pants, I’d much rather it be you.” Marco winked and walked back upstairs.