Didn't I Warn You (7 page)

NINE

I
SHUDDERED
WITH
a ripple of fear and dread. Fear over what staying here one more moment would cost me, and dread over the idea that one day soon, I’d wake up and Haithem would indeed be a ghost—yet another one to haunt me.

“You can trust me,” I whispered. “You want me to sign something? I’ll sign it.”

He looked just as hard and unreasonable as before. I reached out and placed my fingertips on his hand.

“I swear—you never existed. I never met you at all.”

His gaze flicked to my touch, and stuck there as though the touching of
him
was not something that was usually done. His expression shivered and whatever I thought I saw vanished. He rose to his feet. “I’m afraid a promise made under duress is no promise at all.”

“What do you mean, duress?” I leaped off the bed.

He strode for the door. Apparently, he thought our conversation was over. Pity—I wasn’t done. I followed him onto the deck.

Salty air swept hair across my face.

“It’s not as if you’ve threatened me, so I’m not under duress.”

He paused, pushed the notepad into his pocket and turned. “You think someone has to hold a gun to your head for you to be helpless?” His movements changed, went sharp yet somehow also slinky. He walked—not to me but around me. “I have all the power, all the say. And you—” he pointed his finger directly at me “—you, Angel, are a scared girl who wants to go home.”

His words whipped me like lashings from the wind. Painful, cutting lashes that made me want to cry. He stalked me, closing his circle just as surely as a shark. My veins spurted adrenaline, instinct compelling me to
run
.

But I didn’t run. That would break the dubious politeness he’d affected, and this small glimpse at what lay underneath was enough to shake the skin around me.

There was nowhere to run. He’d catch me, and—god help me—I might even enjoy it.

I might enjoy something so real and so raw as being caught, even if it hurt. No polite control. Nothing proper or respectable. Just
real
.

He walked and walked, round and around. My neck strained to keep up with him. I couldn’t drop my gaze, couldn’t let him out of my peripheral vision.

“You owe me nothing. I expect nothing from you. I trust no promises from you.” His voice softened, whispered around me from what felt like all directions. He stopped directly behind me, his hands coming down on my shoulders so I couldn’t turn. “But this doesn’t have to be a nightmare. It doesn’t have to be a trap or a prison.” He pulled me back against him, and suddenly his arms were around me and the beast was gone, replaced instead by a comforting protector.

My pulse jumped. How quickly he could change.

“This isn’t fair. For that,
I
owe
you
, and I always honor my debts.”

I’d slipped into hyperawareness—of the arm around my waist, the body at my back, the voice in my ear. I could almost see myself in his arms, standing like a waxwork, so still and glassy-eyed.
Mesmerized
.

“I saw your face when you told me you’re smothered so tightly you can’t breathe,” he whispered. “You could be free...” He brushed his cheek against my temple. “No one around. You could be yourself.”

He rocked me, so softly I almost missed the shift of my weight from one side to the other. I no longer knew if I was holding myself up.

“I can give you sunsets on the ocean. I can show you space so endless you’ll lose yourself.”

My hair caught on his bristles.

“Have you ever run down a deserted beach, Angel?” His hand moved on my belly. “Have you ever swum naked in salt water?” His voice penetrated my head, my blood, sinking down somewhere even deeper.

“Imagine three weeks where anything you ask will be indulged. All your demands met. Ask me for something—ask me for anything.”

My eyes closed.

“Do you need someone to hear you?” His word curled into my ear so gently, I felt the heat of his body in his breath. “I’ll listen to you talk for days.”

He touched my chest, pressed his palm flat against me.

I twitched.

“You can tell me what it is you keep buried in here. What you’re holding on to so tightly that you can’t let go. You can give it all to me, Angel. Just hand it all over to me...”

Air flooded my lungs, and I lunged out of his grasp. My heart beat so fast, I could imagine coronary damage taking place. I turned and faced him, backing out of reach.

Had I let him read me so thoroughly? Had I laid out my weakness so well that he could drive himself into my head and fuck me there?

Because that’s what he was doing—he was fucking my mind. I knew it. He knew it.

It was working.

But he didn’t know me yet—not really. No one did. Not even Emma. My heart squeezed just thinking about her, about my parents, too. How things must be while I stood here and let him toy with me.

“Ask you for anything?” I said. “I want to go home right now.”

He lowered his chin. “You know that’s not possible, and that’s not what I meant. Ask me for something else—something just for you.”

I swallowed. Of course, he wouldn’t give in. “All right, I want to be draped in diamonds.” I pulled back my shoulders and watched him.

Go find that in the middle of the ocean, asshole.

He just smiled. “I’m disappointed in you.”

“Too much to ask?”

“Not hardly,” he said. He nodded then walked toward the stairs, toward the lower deck. The lower deck where there were men with guns.

“Wait, where are you going?” I called. “What am I supposed to do up here?”

He didn’t look back. “Just stay put.”

As if there was another option.

TEN

I
DID
WHAT
any reasonable prisoner would do—I tore apart the cabin. Not in the way a toddler would, not dumping clothes onto the floor, although the thought appealed—but sneakily. I rummaged through every drawer, searching for some clue I could use. Some scrap of something that could give me leverage...that could give me an advantage.

All I found were socks, handkerchiefs and a wardrobe full of clothes that only made me picture the man who owned them. My hands stilled on a leather jacket. I pulled it closer and ran my fingers over the collar. I hadn’t seen him in anything like this.

Casual.

Relaxed.

The thought of Haithem’s big shoulders filling black leather—oh god.

I let the jacket drop and shut the wardrobe. I needed to get off this yacht before I started rolling around on the enemy’s sheets just to catch a whiff of his scent. Already, the walls seemed to be closing. Small spaces didn’t suit me. Free time suited me even less.

There’d be nothing but time here. Nothing but hours and hours on the damn boat.

Wondering, thinking, remembering
.

My shoulders tensed up. Some girls dreamed of days spent lying in the sun. But not me. The mere thought of being still for so long made me twitchy.

I walked to one of the two doors on either side of bed. The handle stuck at half a turn.

Locked.

I stared at the doorknob, my thoughts slowing. The other side of this door would be where I’d find what I wanted. Locks are for secrets. And I’d discover every secret I could. I went around the bed and tried the other side. It opened into a cavernous bathroom. White marble, a deep tub, shower, toilet, a double vanity. I raided the vanity cupboards, coming up with nothing more exciting than toothpaste, razors and aftershave. I tugged the lid off a bottle and sniffed. The smooth, musky scent went straight through my nose and into my blood.

Wood, amber, a hint of something like rum. Haithem. Rich, deep and all male. I jammed the lid back on the bottle, tucked it back where I found it, then stood. The reflection that greeted me in the mirror made me flinch.

Oh, damn.

I leaned in and pressed my hands to my tangled hair. This level of dishevelment created a whole new category of unkempt. I picked up a lock, somehow at once both frizzy and lank, an achievement in itself. I brought the hair to my face and sniffed. The odor of puke and sweat permeated the chestnut strands. I let go and groaned.

Had Haithem actually rubbed his face in my hair?

My cheeks went warm then hot. Either he was taken enough by me not to care about the stink, or he was an incredible player.

I’d bet player.

This was not okay. Not just for vanity’s sake, but hygiene-wise. I groaned again then glanced at the shower.

I wanted to run to it, bury myself in the hottest stream I could manage. But something stopped me. Something made me not want to remove a single piece of clothing, not remove the smell of vomit, or sweat, or mess. It was as if stripping and washing it all away was some kind of acceptance. Getting comfortable. Making everything better.

It wouldn’t be better until I went home.

I turned back to the mirror. Shadows ringed my eyes. I looked like hell. Whether here or at home, no one needed to see me like this. Not even me. I closed the bathroom door and slowly flicked the lock. Then I took off my clothes and set the shower to scorching.

* * *

I’
D
WASHED
QUICKLY
. Something about being naked for any length of time on the yacht, locked door or not, seemed like wearing a bright red hood in the forest on the way to Grandma’s. I’d managed to shampoo my hair, turning it into one large mat without conditioner to tame it. I dried myself briskly. My limbs loosened, and my body felt warm and human again—relaxed, even. I wrapped a towel around myself and another around my hair.

I shouldn’t have showered.

Exactly as I’d feared, the comfort of such a small luxury—washing away the dirt and grime of the past couple of days—had mitigated some of the worry, some of the anxiety clinging to me.

I could almost hear Haithem placating me now. Telling me it was only three weeks—no big deal. I should relax, enjoy myself.

Enjoy myself right around his cock, most likely.

I snorted and walked to the wardrobe to pull out one of his shirts. He’d gone and screwed that possibility up for both of us. Friday night, I might’ve been willing to take a risk, plunge myself into the sensory kaleidoscope of Haithem’s arms, find out what all the fuss was about fucking, but in the cold, hard light of—what was it now, Saturday, Sunday?—and this clearly not being a dream, I’d had just about as much risk and consequence as I could handle. I let the towel drop and pulled the shirt on over my arms.

Being held prisoner didn’t exactly turn me on, either, no matter how many lush red bows Haithem tied on the situation. I shook my head. I’d brought this on myself. What man looked like him, talked like him, acted like him, without there being some deep, dark catch? Maybe I’d wanted a little trouble.

Served me right.

But my family were innocent. My poor, suffering family. I slipped the top button through the hole then stiffened.

He stood behind me.

Had he made a sound? Had the door clicked?

I didn’t think so, but I knew as surely as if he’d been announced over a loudspeaker that he was back there. The remaining buttons seemed to do themselves up. Every inch of my skin bristled, painfully aware of how nude I was under the shirt. I tugged the hem, thinking of the underwear I’d washed and laid out to dry over the towel rail in the bathroom.

I turned on the ball of my foot.

He stood by the bed and scanned me from my bare toes to the top of his shirt. The slow movement of his eyes warmed my skin more than the shower stream could have hoped to do.

And I was naked under the shirt.

Maybe he suspected, but I knew the thrill of that secret nudity. The knowledge made me hotter, wetter. But let’s face it—I’d been wet since the moment I slipped something of his over my head.

He scowled. “What are you wearing?”

Well, damn, you’d think he didn’t like seeing a half-naked woman in his shirt. Shouldn’t such a sight give him a hard-on or something?

“Something that doesn’t have puke on it,” I said, and smiled. It probably wasn’t the most innocent smile of my life, but then I hadn’t really intended it to be.

His brows rose just slightly, as if it’d only just occurred to him I hadn’t exactly packed for my surprise trip.

“Come here,” he said.

God, the way he said that. As if I could have stopped my feet. His voice made every single female cell in me roll over.
Come here
. Spoken the same way he’d say “Come to me” or “Come to bed”—or “Come for me, Angel.” Husky and deep and sensual.

I walked to him. Knew my hips swayed more than necessary, but I hadn’t told them to do that. He looked at me, watched me move toward him. And when Haithem looked at me, he
really
looked at me. He narrowed the world and put me in a tunnel somewhere between where I was standing and his eyes.

I stopped in front of him, my heart playing a fast little number against my ribs.

“Turn around.”

I shuddered as if he’d touched me somewhere private. Was this dirty? Had he asked me to do something dirty?

Turn around, bend over, good girl.

I’d read romance books. All kinds. I turned, some little nagging part of me reminding me that I didn’t actually have to do what he said.

He shifted, and I stared at the cabin wall, listening to the sound of my own breaths. He stepped close to me, and his trousers brushed the backs of my naked thighs.

Brushed my panty-less backside.

I gasped, and his arms came around me, reaching past my shoulders, and laying something cool on my neck. My hands flew to my throat, and I looked down.

He fastened a clasp at my nape.

A string of clear stones circled the base of my throat. Not diamonds, obviously. Because you couldn’t get a necklace with this many diamonds. Could you? I touched them. Small, hard, shiny, but not real. Most likely not real.

“What’s this?” I asked.

He turned me around then rested a hand on my shoulder. “You asked to be draped in diamonds.” He touched the center stone on my throat. “I always deliver on promises.”

“You expect me to believe these are real?” I pulled my chin back, trying to see the necklace better.

He grinned. Grinned so full of confidence there could be no doubting him. “Would you like to see the certificate?”

If this were a movie, this would be the part where I swooned, or where he pretended to snap my fingers in a jewelry box, and I threw my head back for a giant, toothy superlaugh. I wasn’t swooning. And I wasn’t laughing.

“But this must be...” I looked at the stones again, trying to remember how much fine jewelry cost these days. “Worth as much as a car.”

Haithem laughed, and the sound seeped into me and made my chest shake. His face transformed. White teeth flashed, hardness giving way to pure beauty. I didn’t think I’d heard him laugh before. I’d never thought a person’s laugh could be so dangerous. But a laugh like his? It would compel a person to do almost anything to hear it again.

“It’d have to be one incredible car.”

I tried not to be impressed. Tried not to like the absurd reality that Haithem would really give me things, out-of-this-world things. But his actions meant something to me. It meant something to have someone do stuff for me, give to me. Because I’d spent my life giving and giving until I thought it might kill me to give any more.

Now I stood in front of the most insanely attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on, and he’d manifested diamonds out of the ocean because I’d asked for them.

I blinked and looked at the necklace again. “So, you just plucked these from thin air?”

“No, I had them in my safe.”

I studied him, but his expression didn’t flicker.

Why did he carry diamond necklaces in his safe?

A man traveling alone...what need did he have for such a valuable commodity if there was no one to give it to...

A wave of something I’d never felt before washed over me. It took me a moment to realize what it might be.

Jealousy
.

I gaped and stepped back. “Did you have these for someone else?”

Oh, hell no, could he be? The possibility ticked through my head, and things made sense.

“Are you
married?
”
I sank my hands into my hair and turned around, my heart dropping hard. “Oh my god. That’s why all the secrecy?”

He stayed quiet, each moment of silence confirming my suspicions. I turned back around and faced him. The asshole didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“You’re screwing with my entire life...because, why?” My muscles shook with energy. I shoved him in the stomach. “Because you don’t want your wife to know you’re a cheating, lying, philandering fuck-hole?”

He didn’t move, didn’t react. Made me feel a bit like a toddler trying to push over their parent. He placed his hands over mine, and that’s when I saw it—what I hadn’t seen before because he was so good at keeping it all below the surface.

My own rage reflected back at me.

“I’m not married, Angelina.” He let my hand go and stepped into me, so close that I would have fallen back if he hadn’t caught my hip. “I told you my policy on promises, and that extends to vows, but believe me—” he tugged me forward, so I could taste his breath when he spoke “—this would be so much easier on both of us if that were all this was.”

I stared into his eyes—angry eyes that burned with such conviction I couldn’t deny the truth of his words. I couldn’t deny my relief, either.

Relief that Haithem wasn’t taken. Wasn’t married. That he was
available
.

That he hadn’t planned on making me a seedy indiscretion.

At this point, I shouldn’t have cared if he was taken or not. I wouldn’t be doing anything with him in any case. Yet it would’ve hurt.

I’d nail this down to my pride taking a hit and leave it at that. Nothing deeper than that.

I breathed in, then out, and my energy scattered. The necklace shifted on my neck, reminding me that he still hadn’t provided a reasonable explanation for why he had it.

“So, what...? You’re a pirate then? You plucked this out of your treasure chest?”

Haithem smiled, but the smile held the same darkness as his eyes. “Have I ravaged you yet, wench?”

I rubbed my tongue on the roof of my mouth, looking for some moisture.
Yet
. As in, still to come... I couldn’t answer, afraid of what I might say.

He released my hip, and I stepped back.

“It’s currency.”

“Currency?”

“Sometimes, in business, it helps to have something other than cash on hand.”

What kind of business was that? The kind of business that is better conducted without paper trails. The bad kind.

I touched the necklace again. “So, this really is very valuable then?”

“You have no idea.”

I glanced around him to the door, an idea flickering to life. I’d never make it past him without him stopping me.

I rubbed my throat. “Do you have anything to drink?”

His eyes narrowed a moment, but then he nodded and crossed the room as if it wasn’t the first time I’d casually asked him for something. He crouched in front of a cupboard and popped open the hidden bar fridge I’d found earlier.

I inched toward the door.

He glanced up, and I froze.

“Cola, juice or water?”

“Juice,” I said.

He leaned into the fridge, and I ran. Out the door and over the deck. His steps thundered behind me, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to make it far. I yanked the chain at my neck hard, snapping the clasp.

I reached the railing and flung my arm out over it, the necklace dangling from my hand. The footsteps slowed. He crept toward me like a predator. My fingers shook.
This better freaking work...
If it didn’t, I had a feeling I’d come to regret it.