Her First Vacation (24 page)

She paused with one hand hovering by her head as she remembered
the expression in Colin’s eyes as he’d stared at her tonight. She’d seen
hunger, but then that wasn’t unexpected. There’d been more, though. Something
else besides the sizzle of attraction she’d had to steel herself against. For
just a moment, she’d imagined that the hunger in his eyes wasn’t purely sexual.
She’d thought she saw a deep, yawning need there, a longing that had made her
want to go straight to him and pull him into her arms. But she’d known it
couldn’t be real. He didn’t want her, not like that. He might still want her
body. Maybe he always would. That wasn’t enough, though. She wanted a man to
want her body
and
soul. So she’d turned her eyes away from him and
refused to meet his gaze for the rest of the night. When she’d walked out, she’d
known she’d never see him again. It had taken a tremendous amount of strength
to keep from looking at him then, but she’d managed it somehow and now, it was
over. She’d leave the ship tomorrow, as would he, and they would never see each
other again. She went back to letting down her hair, ignoring the ache of
sadness in her chest and the burning in her eyes.

It was almost one AM, but Claire still couldn’t seem to
make herself shut down enough to sleep. Her mind was whirling, her heart
beating too quickly to allow her body to relax. She kept telling herself that
she needed to get some rest. If she didn’t, she would certainly not look her
best when she got home tomorrow. She’d even opened the sliding glass door so
she could hear the sound of the ship moving through the water, but sleep still
wouldn’t come. Her brain wouldn’t stop dwelling on what she was giving up if
she walked away from Colin without at least telling him how she felt. She knew,
rationally, that he didn’t care about her feelings. He wouldn’t be interested
in hearing that she’d fallen in love with him. In fact, it would probably just
embarrass him. Worse, it might amuse him. Her chest clutched as she imagined
how much it would hurt to have him laugh at her. At the same time, though, she
knew that it wouldn’t destroy her. Spending the rest of her life wondering if
she’d given up too easily on the only man she’d ever loved would cause her
immeasurably more pain. How could she tell him what she felt, though? She
certainly couldn’t stop him right in the middle of the chaos of docking and
disembarking tomorrow and start bearing her soul to him. No, what she needed to
say to him required privacy. Finally, she threw back the covers and climbed out
of bed. She’d have to go to him now, tonight.

She was already dressed and in the bathroom brushing out
her hair when it suddenly occurred to her that he might not be alone. It was
the last night aboard the ship. It was entirely possible that he’d taken a
woman to his room or that he might be spending the night in her room. The brush
faltered as she tried to quell the vaguely queasy sensation that crawled
through her belly. Risking having him laugh at her or reject her outright was
one thing. Facing the evidence of precisely how little the night they’d spent together
meant to him was something else entirely. After a few seconds of hesitation,
she resumed stroking the brush through her hair. She needed to know, whatever
the risk to her heart.

She was just putting down the brush when she heard a click
inside her bedroom. She turned to look out of the bathroom door, her gaze going
straight to the bedroom door. She’d left the light off in the bedroom, but
there was enough spilling out of the bathroom to give her a clear view of the
doorknob as it turned. It was odd, the dichotomy of feelings that swept through
her. She stood there, unnaturally calm as the door began to inch inward. But
her heart was beating wildly against her chest, fluttering like the wings of a
panicked bird, screaming at her to run even though she knew there wasn’t
anywhere to go. There was a safety latch on the door, and she always kept it
secured when she was inside. It would stop whoever was out there, trying to get
in. But even as she repeated that assurance in her mind, she saw something slip
through the miniscule crack in the door. A second later the safety latch had
been pushed aside and the door swung fully open. Claire lifted her gaze to
stare into Garret’s face. The smile she saw there was pure evil.

“Hello,
darling
.”

Colin jerked out of sleep, panting hard. He rolled over
onto his back, lifting a hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. He was drenched
in it. The sheets were soaked. But it wasn’t a nightmare that had his heart
beating like crazy. He glanced down at himself,
then
flopped his head back against the pillows. He was hard as a rock and trembling
like a schoolboy who’d had his first wet dream. Claire had done this to him. Or
he was doing it to himself. Maybe the dreams were some kind of self-induced
torture, punishment for the way he’d lived his life, all the people he’d
manipulated through the years. He’d made some damned bad choices along the way,
tainted himself irrevocably. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he
reminded himself of why he shouldn’t even think about loving Claire, though.
His body and soul simply refused to let her go.

He threw back the tangle of sheets around his legs and got
out of bed. He’d take a cold shower and get dressed. He sure as hell wasn’t
going to be doing any more sleeping tonight. One more graphic dream like the
one he’d been embroiled in when he woke, and he just might do something
incredibly stupid, like
march
to Claire’s room and
tell her he couldn’t bear the thought of going through the rest of his life
without her.

Colin spent a while beneath the cold shower spray, long
enough to at least take the edge off his full-blown arousal. Then he dried and
dressed and went through his morning routine in spite of the fact that it was
barely a quarter after one. He could just imagine how soundly Garret would be
sleeping right now. He always slept like the dead once he’d finished with his
women. Colin intended to enjoy waking him. He picked up the weapon he’d been
forced to keep concealed in his room during his time onboard the ship. It was
damned difficult to carry a 9mm handgun when you were wearing shorts and
sandals. Tonight there would be no reason to hide the weapon, though.
Or his real identification.
He slipped that into his pocket,
along with a set of handcuffs,
then
turned to glance
at the surveillance equipment sitting on the small desk across the room. One
look was all it took to tell him something was wrong.

Claire cursed herself for not running to the phone to call
for help the moment she realized someone had managed to unlock her door. What
had she been thinking to just stand there and watch him break in? He saw her
gaze flit to the phone sitting beside the bed, and she heard him laugh. Her
gaze shot back to him as he stepped further into the room and swung the door
closed behind
himself
. Then he calmly bent and jerked
the phone line out of the wall. He straightened and gave her another of those
twisted smiles.

“Now, you won’t have to worry about being tempted to do
something that will just tick me off.” His gaze slid over her insolently. “On
your way out, I see.” His eyes locked onto hers again. “That’s hardly as
seductive as the little black scrap you had on earlier, but then I doubt Colin
gives a rat’s ass what you’re wearing. The only thing he’ll be interested in is
how quickly he can get you out of the clothes.” The ugly smile slid off his
face as he narrowed his gaze at her. “Tell me, when was the first time you
parted your legs for him?”

She didn’t even bother to pretend to answer. She just
reached out and grabbed the bathroom door. She swung it closed and fumbled with
the lock, turning it home almost at the same instant that Garret hit the door.
She jumped back as it shuddered in the frame, and she knew she was wasting her
time. That door wasn’t going to stop him. It wasn’t even going to do much to
slow him down. She grabbed her bag of toiletries, frantically searching for
something, anything to use as a weapon.

Colin hit the switch to raise the volume on the transmitter
he’d planted in Garret’s room. He got exactly what he’d known he would.
Nothing.
Total silence.
Not even
the sound of breathing. He’d known the moment he saw the absence of movement on
the small audio monitor that the room was empty. Even with the sound off, the
monitor registered the sounds it heard with strings of light like the equalizer
on a stereo. But there was nothing. For a moment, he considered that the
transmitter had malfunctioned. He switched to the backup and felt his gut
clench tighter when he saw that it, too was picking up nothing.

Garret was gone. The question was, where had he gone to and
how long ago? Colin started backing through the past seconds and minutes until
he heard the high-pitched whine of sound on the recording. He hit the play
button and listened as Garret shouted at a crying woman.

“Get out, you stupid bitch!”

She mumbled something and Colin heard the sound of a slap.
Silence reigned for a few seconds as the woman clearly struggled to recover
from her shock.

“Now get the hell out before you tick me off more than you
already have.”

A few seconds later, the door slammed. Colin could hear
Garret moving around in his room. Then, Colin heard the door open again and
Garret spoke, obviously to himself.

“Okay, Claire, now it’s your turn.”

Colin could have sworn that his heart actually stopped in
his chest. The sound of Garret’s door closing echoed in the room, but for a few
seconds, Colin couldn’t move. Claire. Garret was going after Claire. He had
already
gone
after her. He jerked, reaching out to check the time on the
recording. Then he glanced at his watch and felt his blood run even colder.
Twenty minutes. While he’d been showering and shaving and congratulating
himself on what a great job he’d done, Garret had been with Claire. Colin was
running out the door a moment later.

The only thing Claire could come up with as a potential
weapon was the can of hairspray sitting on the sink. She snatched it up and
backed up just as the doorframe splintered. The door swung open, and Garret
stepped into the small room. He paused long enough to lock his gaze on her,
then
he started forward. She lifted the can and sprayed him
in the face. He yelped and threw up his hands, backing up just as she’d hoped
he would. She ran forward, shoving hard against his chest so that he lost his
balance and fell backwards out of the doorway. Her heart was beating like mad,
and she was shaking so badly that she dropped the can of hairspray, but she
knew she couldn’t give in to the fear. She had to get to the door, to get out.
She jumped over him and ran for the door. He hadn’t reengaged the security
latch. All she had to do was get the door open and keep running.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Claire’s fingertips were just brushing the knob when he
caught her. His hand tangled in her hair and he jerked, bringing her up short. Pain
ripped through her, and she finally screamed. She’d barely begun to make any
sound, though, when he spun her around and slapped her full across the face.
She stumbled backwards, drawing breath to scream again. Before she could make
any sound at all, he closed his hand around her throat and squeezed. Claire
immediately began to choke. She tried to push him away, to claw at him, to
fight any way she could. He responded by bringing his other hand to her throat
and squeezing harder. He shoved her up against the door and gave her a hard
glare as he spoke through clenched teeth.

“You could have blinded me, you bitch!”

Claire could feel her lungs burning for air. She tried to
scratch at his face, but he easily dodged her efforts. She tried to kick him
and he pulled her forward,
then
slammed her back
against the door again. Pain exploded through her head as it connected with the
door. The room was starting to spin around her. She could feel her arms getting
heavy. Garret was going to kill her. He was going to keep strangling her until
she passed out, then stopped breathing altogether. She dropped her arms to her
sides because she couldn’t find the strength to resist him any longer. Just as
she felt darkness beginning to close in on her, he eased the pressure on her
throat. Air rushed out, then into her lungs. She coughed uncontrollably as he
tangled his hand in her hair again and dragged her toward the bed. He shoved
her down onto the mattress,
then
climbed on top of
her. She started to fight him again, but he used his weight to hold her down as
he gripped her chin to force her to meet his gaze.

“Listen very carefully, Claire. If you fight me or try to
scream, I’ll kill you. But I won’t make it easy on you. I’ll drag you to your
balcony and pitch you right over the side. The fall itself will be bad enough.
Hitting that water will feel like hitting cement. But you’re smart enough to
know that, right, so you’ll make sure you hit the water the right way. That
won’t help you, though. Because just when you think you’ve survived, the
current will grab you and pull you under. Down and down, along the bottom of
the ship. And you’ll be dying to breathe but you’ll know you can’t because the
only thing that would do is drown you. Sooner or later your body won’t be able
to help it. You’ll open your mouth and pull in nothing but water. It’ll burn as
it pours into your lungs, and you’ll wish you could scream. Then, right before
you fade you’ll hit the propellers, and they’ll turn you into mush. There won’t
be anything at all left. Believe me, I’ve seen it. Remember, I told the story
about the man who died that way on the last cruise I took. He was a hell of a
lot stronger than you, and he was pulled under as soon as he hit the water. I
never dreamed it could be so easy to get rid of someone until I pushed that man
over the rail. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. You’ll go even faster, and
no one will even know it. By the time anyone realizes you’re even missing,
there won’t be any trace of what happened to you. They’ll search, but no one
will find anything, and you’ll just cease to exist. Is that the way you want
it? I can make it happen right now.”