Didn't I Warn You

by Amber Bardan

  I wiggled on the box of tomatoes, and the rims of the tins dug into the backs of my thighs. So what if all he wanted was to get laid?

  I knew what I wanted. I wanted to leap. Do the things I’d missed out on. I wanted to sleep with him. No—scratch that. I wanted to fuck Haithem. I wanted to get skin-to-skin sweaty and dirty with Haithem. I wanted to get on my knees for him, do everything I’d never done because I’d been too scared, or too sad, or just too damn uninterested.

  But instead, I ran and hid. Both things I was good at.

  But what if I’d stayed?

  My skin crawled with blossoming need. I could still go back to the dock. Who knew when he’d leave but he might still be there now...

  It hardly mattered about the article anymore. I mean if I had to choose sex or article, then there were other jobs.

  There was only one Haithem.

  That didn’t stop the excruciating curiosity to find out exactly who he was. Maybe I was cut out for the job after all. The door to the pantry flung open with a crash. I leaped to my feet. Chris stepped inside. I groaned. He was dressed in pale blue skinny jeans and a white T-shirt that showed off his slim build, but it was the smug expression he wore that made his twenty-one years seem more like twelve.

  He ran his gaze over my face and smiled more deeply. I touched my cheek. It was hot—I was hot. But not for this boy.

  “I knew you wanted to be alone.”

  He reached his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a foil packet.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  It took ten minutes to convince Chris I didn’t want to “hook up.” Ten minutes of my life I’d never, ever get back.

  I searched for Emma, heading down the hallway to where a friend had seen her disappear into a bedroom. I raised my fist to knock on the closed door. A low, throaty moan reached my ears. I suppressed my own, different kind of moan and glanced back down the hall toward the front entrance.

  I needed to get out of here. Pity Emma always had to be the driver. I pulled out my phone and texted her. She’d kill me for sneaking off, but I’d risk her wrath. I slipped out of the house and into the night.

  FIVE

  STEPPING ONTO THE PORCH, I sucked in a breath as the night air chilled the bare skin on my arms. It’d been more than warm when we arrived, but this was Melbourne. Emma’s car nestled against the curb in front of the house. I rubbed my arms and walked over to peer in the driver’s-side window.

  Yep, there was my jacket. I wouldn’t be interrupting Emma to get it. Didn’t need any more mental scarring, thank you very much. My phone told me it was quarter to eleven. I knew what was supposed to happen now—me calling Daddy to ask him to come and rescue me from the big, bad, wild party. Me sitting in his car for twenty minutes, listening to commentary about how my dress might give men the wrong impression.

  Because god forbid I give the wrong impression.

  Mere weeks until I turned twenty-one, and in the past year, I’d regressed back to infancy as far as my family was concerned. Surprising how quickly dynamics can flip. I crossed my arms and walked onto the sidewalk toward the tram stop.

  A car door thudded.

  “Angelina?”

  The sound of my name resonated in the night. I halted, spinning around to face the speaker. A figure strode toward me. I stepped back, stumbling into the fence behind me. My fingers curled into the heavy metal links.

  Jesus, the first time I step outside at night by myself, and strangers approach me in the street.

  “What do you want?”

  The man stopped on the footpath. Like some kind of cat burglar, he wore all black. Black suit, black shirt, black shoes—even his hair and skin were dark.

  Like night.

  My chest squeezed. He seemed familiar. A beaky nose, a narrow forehead. But I didn’t know him. He knew me.

  The music from the party thudded dully in the distance.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Angelina. I have a message from a friend.”

  My name again.

  From the lips of a stranger who’d somehow managed to find me—at night—in a street I never visited. I glanced down the footpath. The man stood between me and the party, between me and safety. My gaze flickered to his car. I’m no good at recognizing makes and models, but this oozed luxury.

  He probably wasn’t going to rob me, at least.

  “A friend? I don’t think you and I run in the same circles.”

  He smiled, teeth standing out against his skin in the darkness. “Oh, but we do. Someone you met today, in a coffee shop, perhaps? In fact, I was there also, but I don’t think you had eyes for me.” His accented voice spoke with familiar inflections. My hands dropped from the fence, and I studied him again. I did recognize him. He’d been sitting next to Haithem, and he was right—I’d only had eyes for one man.

  “Haithem?”

  The man closed the space between us. “Yes, he would like to invite you to join him on his yacht tonight.”

  My mind almost melted, and I blinked slowly. Hadn’t I just been longing for another chance? Hadn’t I just decided I wanted to do what I’d never done before?

  I could go to him.

  Have an experience I’d never forget. A distraction that could occupy my mind not just for minutes, hours or days—because something told me a taste of Haithem would stay with me forever. And here it was, what I’d yearned for, handed to me by fate.

  “So, what do you say? Will you come with me to Haithem?”

  I looked at this stranger. Fate wasn’t handing me anything. Even fate couldn’t have placed him here, exactly where I was. “How did you find me?”

  He stared at me, not shifting, not giving away a thing. No hint of guilt, no sign of discomfort or that he’d done anything creepy. “I followed you here from your house and waited.”

  “So, you’re telling me that at some point this afternoon, Haithem decided he wanted to see me, had me tracked down to my house, then followed to a party and snuck up on when I was alone in the street?” I shook my head, the absurdity only beginning to settle in.

  “Your address is public record. I only followed you because you had company. Discretion is absolutely essential.”

  So says a serial killer.

  I brushed my hair back from my face. “Dude, you know this is all kinds of creepy, right?”

  His eyes widened. Probably because I’d just called him dude. Most likely, he didn’t get that too often. Either that or he took offense at me calling his actions creepy...

  “It’s all kinds of necessary.”

  The comeback, spoken in his formal tone, was all-kinds-of-hilarious. A soft laugh escaped me.

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile.

  “Okay, that’s a little creepy too, though. That discretion is essential, I mean.” Exposé-wise, it could be excellent... Questions already rushed through my brain. Who was he, and what was he up to? He was probably a diplomat, most likely secret prince. That would work for me. I could run with that angle. Just maybe in daylight. “I’d love to see Haithem again. But it’s late, and this is all too much.” I gestured around us to the dark street. “Why don’t you give him my number, and if he really wants to see me, he can call me like a normal person?”

  He shook his head. “This is a onetime invitation. Haithem leaves the city in the morning. If you want to see him, now is your chance.”

  Haithem leaves in the morning?

  A deep and bitter disappointment washed through me. I shouldn’t feel that way, but I did. The memory of his kiss tingled on my lips.

  Didn’t I owe it to myself to at least try to get his story?

  Or something.

  I already had far more regrets than I could live with.

  I looked the man in the eye. “Take me to him.”

/>   * * *

  MY FRIENDLY STALKER had a name. Karim. He held my hand as he escorted me on board the yacht, helped me, because I couldn’t have done it myself. My legs moved as if they’d gone hollow. A dream-like quality settled over me, convincing me that at any moment I’d wake up and not be there at all.

  Hiding on the dock hadn’t prepared me for walking onto his yacht at night. Three floors high and big enough to host a town. A floating castle, pale against black waves and white moonlight.

  Definitely running with the secret prince angle.

  Karim ushered me across the deck and up a narrow flight of stairs to the top. A stiff breeze whipped my hair around my face and my dress around my knees. But I wasn’t cold anymore.

  “Wait here,” he said, and he strode across the deck alone.

  I nodded, but I couldn’t help drifting to the railing and wrapping my fingers around the cool white steel. My god, I’d never seen Melbourne from this vantage. It glowed. So warm and vibrant. Hard to believe I’d lived here all my life and never seen it this way.

  Footsteps padded behind me, but I couldn’t turn around. I gripped the railing tighter, as if I might blow away. Hands clutched my waist, and a hard body made contact with mine, heating me from my calves to the back of my skull.

  Haithem—I knew the scent of him already. Amber with something else, something intoxicating. He leaned over me, and his rough cheek brushed my ear, prickling in a way that made my skin shiver, made me want to feel that delicious friction all over.

  “You’ve been bad, Angelina.” He growled the words into my ear, but the growl contained a hint of purr.

  Apparently, I was in trouble. The kind of trouble I had a feeling would end with my own purrs. His hands slid from my sides to wrap around my middle. He pulled me tighter against him. I opened my lips but couldn’t form words. The movement of my blood had gone from rapid dance to outright chaos.

  “You ran from me today. Tormented me with a taste and ran before I’d had my fill.” His teeth caught my earlobe, nipping it gently.

  I made a sound, a tiny squeak that was lost on the breeze. Pleasure shot from my ear through my body, sensitizing my skin, hardening my nipples, sending blood coursing between my legs.

  “For that, you’ll beg before you come.”

  Moisture flooded the fabric of my panties, as if his voice alone could compel my body to do just that.

  Beg.

  I should’ve been offended, but there was no pretense. No pretty words to sugarcoat what he wanted from me, just raw honesty.

  I licked my lips. I would—I’d beg. Did he want me to beg now? I didn’t care, I’d do whatever he said if he’d just save me from this feeling. There’d be time for sleuthing later. My head lolled against his shoulder, and his teeth moved to my neck, scraping skin before branding me with his mouth, sucking hard enough to let me know he intended on marking me.

  I’d never been so excited, so expectant, so goddamn terrified.

  He shifted, and I felt it—what I’d done to him. The hardness at my back rivaled the steel under my fingers. My hands slipped from the railing, and I lifted my arms above my head to find the soft hair at the back of his neck and grip it.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  Haithem tensed, then rocked his hips against my backside. “You’re begging already? I haven’t even started.” He grasped my breast through the fabric of my dress and plucked my nipple. It hardened at his command, tightening painfully.

  Holy shit, he was going to fuck me now.

  Not make love—fuck. I could feel it coming. One movement and he’d raise my dress, and I’d be nailed up against the railing. My first time on the deck of a yacht...

  Just like that.

  I lowered my hands. He stilled then released my breast and took my hand.

  “Come,” he said, and led me across the furnished deck, through double doors and into a large cabin. His cabin—his room, I knew, because the first thing I saw when I stepped inside was a bed. The biggest bed I’d ever seen, with three rows of pillows across the top. A square of lights, inlaid in the sleek veneer roof, illuminated bed linens I guessed were higher in threads per square inch than anyone could count.

  A beep accompanied by a flickering red light emanated from a phone attached to the wall. He released my hand. “Excuse me, this is urgent, but help yourself to something.”

  I tore my gaze from the bed to the small table laden with cheeses and wine. Haithem walked to the console and answered the phone.

  Wine, now that’s what I needed.

  I took a glass and filled it to the brim. Bubbles foamed at the top, and I sipped them off. I turned the bottle and read the label—champagne, not wine. Not that I knew the difference, really. I only cared if it gave me courage. I gulped and coughed. Bubbles fizzed down my throat.

  Haithem rested a hand against the wall and spoke. His words weren’t English. They were harder sounding, more clipped. There was something about seeing him standing there in his pants and shirt, bare feet, dark hair slightly tousled, speaking in a foreign tongue, on a goddamn yacht, that made me feel as if I’d just stepped into another world.

  A world that was about to get a whole heap more fun.

  SIX

  Haithem

  THE SIGHT OF her pink tongue sneaking out to lick the foam off her lips was enough to make me want to take her right where she stood. I restrained myself. She’d already tensed on deck. I had to be sure why she’d followed me.

  I know.

  Her pulse had raced against my mouth. Her breath had rushed beneath her breast. She wanted this. She wanted me.

  Was desperate for the chemistry the two of us concocted in that one kiss. Something had held her back. Made her run away. But then she’d come after me.

  And by the time we were done, I’d know the secrets she didn’t even know she kept.

  A smile built on my lips.

  “—graduated with a Bachelor of Arts with honors.”

  The smile broadened.

  I listened on the intercom to Karim reveal every detail of her sweet, exquisitely boring little life. Perfect. Everything about her was so perfectly normal. Her father was mayor of their suburban municipality. Probably impressive to neighbors.

  “Are you ready to admit I was right?” I whispered in Arabic.

  “Just because we didn’t find anything doesn’t mean there isn’t anything.”

  I snorted. “She still lives with her parents.”

  “Exactly why she’d be such a perfect plant.”

  I shoved back the black ball of suspicion. Wouldn’t succumb to that today. There hadn’t been a time since this began where I hadn’t balanced on edge—all that I thought I knew slaughtered by what I might not. Yet, right then the air was breathable. Fertile and hopeful. There was more than this.

  There might even be an after. If I survived.

  I breathed that suddenly lush air. After. Why had the concept not occurred until now?

  Angelina finished her champagne and poured another. Usually I didn’t mix sex and drink, but in this case the alcohol would help. She’d be more receptive if she relaxed. I’d have a better chance of convincing her to give me what I needed. She wouldn’t like my plans—pretty young women like her rarely did. They were too romantic, their expectations too high.

  “You are a sore loser and we didn’t even bet for money,” I said. Either way, I had her now. There were just a few boxes to tick. A couple of edges to smooth, to make this all neat and tidy.

  She caught my gaze on her and tucked a lock of her rich, not-quite-brown, not-quite-red hair behind her ear.

  Fuck me, she’s lovely.

  Big dimple in one cheek, smaller one in the other. Huge green eyes and curves I could drown in. I wasn’t sure what was riskier—letting her come
along or letting myself taste something that could become an addiction.

  I hung up the intercom and faced her. She clutched her glass to her chest and gazed at me. Caution was required. She was young, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, maybe intimidated by an older man. Might run, after all.

  I had to be patient. But patience had never been one of my virtues—not that this life had left me with many virtues.

  I took the glass from her hands and filled it with more champagne. No, I wasn’t above being a bastard to get what I wanted. I handed the flute to her and led her with a gentle touch on the small of her back to the couch. I didn’t sit next to her—that wouldn’t work. I took the armchair opposite and pushed it closer. She set down her glass.

  Her gaze fixed on me, shining. She licked her lips. My hands curled. I fought the compulsion to leap up and show her exactly how I’d like her to use that tongue. Her eyes glittered, her color was high—she was ready.

  She’d do as I wanted.

  “Angelina, I’m glad you came.” I leaned closer. Tried to keep my tone light. “But we need to talk.”

  She shifted, tugging her dress down. Her gaze fell to her knees. “Talk?”

  I touched her thigh. She needed to look at me. “Yes, I’d like to invite you to spend some time with me.”

  Her gaze snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  I peered directly into the green of her eyes. “I want you to sail with me up the coast. Two weeks of sea and sun, on my yacht. You’d have everything and anything you desire...”

  * * *

  EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING I desire.

  His gaze bored into mine—dark and hypnotic. My ears buzzed. The champagne had gone to my head. I’d thought I’d known my deepest desires. But now, sitting across from him, I realized I’d always denied myself the things I wanted most.