by Ava Harrison
She’s the enemy.
I shake my head. Even as sick as she is, I can’t let my guard down.
She’s the girl who could knock on death’s door and still find the strength for one last stand.
That’s why she’s dangerous.
She’s the female version of me.
13
Phoenix
Another day.
The endless loop of waiting and not knowing what my future will bring makes me restless.
I know Alaric has a plan.
And I’m well versed with one aspect of said plan.
That being my role in this whole mess.
At least I am no longer sick.
That’s a miracle.
Now that I feel better, I really have to search this yacht. There is no time left to wait.
In my nightmares, the ones that plague me while I toss and turn in my bed at night, George is tied to some strange contraption in the engine room. When I wake, covered in sweat, I tell myself maybe he never got on this godforsaken yacht.
Maybe he’s okay, and maybe he told my dad when the boat left the dock.
My father will find me.
The waters haven’t calmed; we still cross deep, dangerous waves that make the boat roll like a ball in a pinball machine.
I wonder where we are.
I know nothing about sailing, but if I had to guess, we are crossing between continents. Today, I found the men on the deck. They were deep in conversation, and I know without a measure of a doubt that they were talking about their plan for me.
Without waiting to be announced, I take a seat beside Alaric. No one speaks.
“Boys, what’s the plan today?”
“Are you bored?”
“I am.”
“Would you like me to entertain you?” His words drip with innuendo. Decadent and sweet. Like a strawberry freshly dipped in chocolate, oozing on your lips as you lick it off. His voice is so damn husky that the words leaving Alaric’s lips explode inside me like little butterflies let loose.
“Not you,” I hiss before standing abruptly and walking away from him.
A few days ago, I finally noticed the clothing Alaric had bought for me. Everything I would need for a long trip at sea. I realized then that I had walked into a well-thought-out plan. He had thought of everything. There were short dresses, bathing suits, and the worst part—the part that made me squeamish, that made me feel sick to my stomach—was when I found the tampons. Because yes, that meant I would be here for a long time.
I’m not stupid.
I know that my stay will be at least a few weeks. Hopefully, since I just had it, I won’t need to worry, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m trapped here indefinitely, all because I was stupid enough to walk into a damn trap.
I make my way to the front sundeck. This deck is larger than the one I usually find Alaric sitting at. This deck has lounge chairs and a hot tub.
I strip off my clothes, until I’m only in my bikini, and walk toward the beckoning warm water. The footsteps behind me don’t deter my progress.
“Going for a swim?” he asks, his voice like warm honey dripping all over me. I shake the thought of the sexy way he sounds out of my head.
“If I’m stuck here, I might as well work on my tan.”
“Let me help you with your sunblock.”
I turn around to find him smiling at me—smirking is more like it. “I would rather burn than have you touch my skin.”
Instead of going in the water, I lie down on the nearest lounge chair. Maybe if I fall asleep, he will stop bothering me.
No such luck.
He steps in, and I look up from where I’m lying on the chair. The shadow his large frame casts blocks the sun, and I peer up at him.
“Do you mind?”
“This is my boat, and there are rules.”
“Is there something else you wanted me to do … Prince, or should I call you king?” I roll my eyes.
“I like that.”
“What, the nickname?”
“Your attitude. Makes me want to show you who’s in charge.”
My teeth grind, and I sit up, pivoting my body toward his. I narrow my eyes in defiance. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He steps closer. A predator stalking his prey.
“Wouldn’t I?” His eyes gleam. “I have you at my mercy. Maybe I would.”
A snarl leaves my mouth. “What do you want me to do, then? If I can’t sunbathe, then what?”
“Ask next time.”
I flip my hair and turn back around, dismissing him. “Fine.”
“You still haven’t asked permission.”
Air leaves my mouth. “May I please relax on your deck?”
“Why, yes, you can. See. Was that so hard?”
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
“Did you say something?”
“Nope. Nothing here.”
I close my eyes and go back to enjoying the beautiful day. I have realized there is no getting off this boat now, so I might as well get a good tan and piss him off in the meantime.
“Dinner is at seven. Be dressed by then and meet me in the dining room.”
“I’m good.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you will be there.”
I don’t acknowledge the threat in his words. They ring very clearly in the afternoon air.
I’m done with him.
I’ll be dressed and ready. And I’ll bide my time because although I might be stuck on this boat, I’ll make sure to find a way to tell my father not to fall for the trick. Let me die, but don’t come for me.
No matter what.
I spent hours outside. At some point, one of his men brings me a bottle of water and something to eat. It’s almost like being on vacation. Well, unless you consider that we are probably doing a gun run right now.
Who knows where we are going? All I know is as I sit in my towel with my damp hair falling down my back, I have to get ready to eat dinner with the enemy.
Normally, if I was somewhere else, I wouldn’t mind so much. At least he’s easy on the eyes.
Too easy if you ask me.
Personality-wise, he sucks. Sure, I see him and his men laugh every so often, so maybe he’s not bad with them, but with me, he’s my captor. Someone I have no interest in spending more time with.
Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. I have no other choice, so I might as well put on my big girl panties. I look at the tiny scrap of lace Alaric has provided for me and chuckle. It’s certainly not what I think anyone had in mind when they came up with that sentence.
Once I finish putting on my makeup and blowing dry my hair, I stand from the vanity and put the underwear on and look for a dress.
He was spot-on in the size department.
A chill runs up my spine over that fact.
How long was he planning this? I had only been planning for a few days before I got stuck on this yacht.
As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, another idea pops into my brain.
Seduction.
It’s the one thing I haven’t tried yet.
It’s the only thing that can work.
I need to seduce Alaric.
Once I do, I’ll be able to look for George, maybe even find a way to get help.
But how?
If I come on too strong, he’ll know. But if I’m drunk …
That could work.
Squaring my shoulders in the scrap of a dress I’m wearing, I head toward the door that will lead me up to the main deck.
This has to work.
When I make it out of my room, I can hear the men speaking in the distance. I follow their voices. They are sitting in a different spot than usual. Now they are at the aft deck.
Stars illuminate the dark night sky. Alaric has scattered a few lights in the space for added ambiance.
Not for my sake, I’m sure.
These lights are probably left over from the party.
“Dove, to what do we owe this honor?” His tone is mocking.
Keep your cool. The plan won’t work if you blow up and throw something at him.
“I was bored,” I respond in my best nonchalant voice, hoping that I do nothing to give myself away.
“Then, by all means, let me and the boys entertain you.” A small smile tips his lips. It’s meant to be playful, but I can read through Alaric. This smile is anything but playful. This one is deadly.
I’m about to walk into hell, and the devil wants to play.
I square my shoulders and take the seat next to him. He lifts a brow. “You really must be bored if you want my company.”
“There are only so many ways I can keep myself entertained in my room every night.” I bite my lip; it’s a seductive move, but I play it off as coy. Then to seal the deal, I part my mouth and then roll my tongue over the now puffy skin.
His pupils widen as he watches the movement, and then he must think better of it, because he shakes his head, places his hand on the table, and stands. I know it hit its mark when he clears his throat. “What are you drinking?” he asks as he walks over to the bar.
“Vodka on the rocks.”
I watch his movements as he starts to make my drink. This is probably a bad idea, but in order for me to make a pass at him later, I need him to see me looking.
The problem is that’s he’s beautiful, dark, and elusive. A deadly combination, if I can’t keep my wits about me.
The tattoos on his forearms are on display. Again lethal. Those tattoos should come with a warning label. The desire to look away and stop gawking at him is intense, but I don’t. Instead, I’ve thrown myself into the ruse.
I keep watching as he walks back over to me, takes a seat beside me, and then hands me my drink.
The taste of the vodka is a welcome distraction.
It courses down my throat, burning a wake in its path. I enjoy the burn. It makes me feel like I can do this.
I’ll need all the strength in the world for this.
“It’s a nice night,” I say, even though I sound like an idiot. Because what else do you say when you’re drinking with a bunch of guys, and one happens to be your father’s biggest enemy.
“You really must be hard up for entertainment, if you’re leading with that.”
Telling him he’s a jerk sits heavy on my lips, but I refrain. Instead, I give him a false smile.
“Then what do you guys normally talk about?”
“Pussy,” one says.
Alaric shoots him a look that puts the drunk idiot back in his place. I don’t know his name or what he even does for Alaric. I do remember him at the club, stone-cold and serious. Obviously, they don’t perceive me as a threat here on the boat, wherever we are. This will work to my advantage.
“What Tom meant to say is we talk about …” He lets out a chuckle. “Fuck it. I can’t think of anything.”
“Women it is.”
He shrugs.
“And when you aren’t talking about women …”
“We sure as shit aren’t talking about the weather.”
“Touché.” I lift my glass and down the rest of the clear liquid. “Then let’s talk about women. Or sex or whatever you guys talk about. But first another.”
Alaric’s mouth parts, and he smiles broadly before standing. This time he doesn’t take my glass. He takes the whole bottle. He holds it up to me.
“Glass or do you just want to drink straight from here?” He winks.
I grab the bottle from his hand and take a large swig, causing the boys to cheer and give me a round of applause.
“Careful. I don’t want you getting sick.”
His meaning comes in loud and clear, hinting at the night he played nurse when I had seasickness. What he doesn’t know is, I might be small, but I’m no lightweight.
Back in school, my roommate Hannah and I drank a lot. I’m no stranger to drinking heavily. I can hold my own. But he’s doesn’t need to know that, and he won’t.
“I’ll be fine,” I say and then giggle.
I see the look that passes between Alaric and his boys. The look that says she’s yours to take care of if she gets sick.
Good. Take the bait.
As we continue to drink, everyone around me loosens up.
Somehow, we venture into a conversation about sexual positions.
Now, I’m no prude or anything, but sitting around the room talking sex with a man who looks like Alaric has my cheeks feeling hot.
The man who I now know as Tom laughs about the last woman he slept with.
I listen with feigned interest, watching Alaric the whole time to see what he adds to the conversation.
“And you …” Tom asks, and I realize I was so enthralled with my father’s enemy, I didn’t realize what he asked. I look up at Alaric with confused eyes, and a wicked smirk lines his face.
“Position? Tom was just telling us he likes it when he doesn’t have to do any work. Now, he wanted to know your favorite.”
If my cheeks could get any warmer, they would be on fire, but I don’t let it stop me. Instead, I continue to look at the man whose attention I need. I lift my right index finger and start to trail it across my lips as I think.
“For me …” I can see the lust in his eyes and the way his gaze traces over my lips. I part my mouth, and his jaw twitches, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching me. “Well, boys … That I’m not going to tell.” I wink at Alaric, and he rewards me with a smile. A heart-stopping smile. “On that note …” I move to stand and purposely stumble. Alaric is fast, and before I know it, I’m in his lap, his arms wrapped around me.
A slight breath escapes my lips at the contact. His fingers splay across my ribs. The position is intimate, and I tilt my head up to look at him.
He looks down at me, ready to meet my stare but not before an unspoken command is issued. The next thing I know, it’s only us.
The salty air feels warmer now. Or maybe it’s the proximity of our bodies.
With our eyes now locked, he pulls me closer. Close enough that my chest now touches his. I can feel him breathe. Can feel his heart as it beats against my own. The feeling is intoxicating. Regardless of why I’m here, or why I’m doing this, I can’t deny this pull between us right now. Despite the heat, goosebumps break out across my exposed skin. His fingers decadently trail up my arm as if he’s tracing them. He moves to my shoulder, across my collarbone, until his journey takes him to my jaw.
He cups my chin. His eyes are dark and hungry as they pull away from my gaze and travel down to my mouth.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest, heady and desperate for him to kiss me. Maybe it’s the vodka that courses through my veins, but I desperately need to feel his lips on mine right now.
“Dove,” he says, and our breath mingles together when he does. The faint hint of an earthy wood dances on my lips. His scotch. The desire to lick the peppery taste of him has a small moan leaving my lips.
The sudden force of his lips slamming against my own makes me quiver. Or whimper. I’m not even sure.
All I know is that his kiss is firm and demanding. It commands me to open to him and give him everything I have.
A part of me screams not to, that this is part of the ruse. But as my mouth opens to his, and his tongue sweeps inside, all those thoughts are brushed away. Instead, I find my hands sliding up his chest.
This isn’t real.
It shouldn’t feel this good.
But it does.
I push away my thoughts and all the things I know I should be thinking right now, and instead, I give in to the kiss.
Allowing him to deepen it.
Allowing myself to become lost in it.
Our tongues collide. His arms wrap around my back.
There is no space separating us now.
This kiss is different than the last one. Yes, it’s still under false pretense, but it feels
different. It feels real. Too real.
The notion has me pulling away, panting.
Alaric dips his head down and looks at me.
“Show me your boat,” I whisper.
“No.” His words take me by surprise. A smile curls up his lips. “Little dove, what are you looking for on my boat?”
“Nothing,” I respond, my voice quick and shaky.
“As much as I liked the kiss, do you think I’m an idiot?”
I push my hand off his chest and stand.
“Little dove,” he muses.
“Phoenix. Repeat after me. Phoenix. P. H. O. E. N. I. X. That’s my name!” I scream. Clearly, the booze has gotten to me because this is not a part of my master plan of seduction. Which has failed, apparently.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” he chides.
“We are not Romeo and Juliet.” I step back from where he’s sitting as he moves to stand.
“We could be.” He approaches me, and it feels like I’m trapped in a tight space with nowhere to go.
“Never going to happen.”
“But didn’t it almost …”
He steps toward me, his hand reaching out. It starts to run down my arm until it’s enclosed around my wrist.
“We could fuck,” he mocks. I step back, but he follows. It’s a wicked dance.
“No. We can’t,” I hiss. “I don’t want you.”
Lies. My attraction to him is painfully obvious, from every whimper to every moan. The evidence screams of my lie, but I keep my back straight and tell the lie anyway.
“Then why does your skin heat when I touch it? Why do you tremble beneath my fingers?” Again, he lifts his hand, and this time I swat it away. Anger fuels me.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss like a viper ready to snap.
“Are you sure?”
His brow lifts in a mocking gesture, and I grind my teeth at his question. “Yes.”
“If you say so. I guess that means you’re not hungry for dinner.” With a large self-satisfied smile on his face that I so desperately want to smack off him, he starts to walk away.
“Wait.” He stops and turns to look back at me. “Let me and George go.” My hands move to the side of my hips as I prepare for a showdown.
“But what message would that send?”
