ASHFORD (Gray Wolf Security #5)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “You are a feisty one,” he said. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I said. “Miles doesn’t care about me. Our marriage was all a sham.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Why do you think we were only married six months? Why do you think he threw me out of his house after only six months? Why was none of his family at our wedding?” I gestured to the pictures on the floor. “Why do you think Claire was in Florida during our honeymoon? Do you really think a man in love with his new bride would take his ex-fiancée on his honeymoon with him?”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I shrugged. “Pictures don’t lie.” I pressed my hands against the wall and realized I had another argument. “If he’d do anything for me, why are we still moving? Why haven’t they stopped the ship to search for me?”

  “Why weren’t they pounding on the door of my suite this morning to take me into custody?” Dominic waved his hand at me, as though underscoring the question. “Miles doesn’t want the press to figure out what’s going on here.”

  That made sense. But I wasn’t going to give that to him.

  “Miles is in charge here. He would stop the ship if he thought the woman he loves was in danger,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, Riley,” Dominic said in a soft, syrupy voice. “Miles will hurt. But you and I? We’ll have a wonderful time.” He touched the side of my face again, running his finger so slowly down the length of my jaw. “Such a wonderful time.”

  I felt sick. I might have vomited right there, but there was no food in my stomach. There hadn’t been for more than twelve hours. But the nausea was real. I don’t know how he could miss it, but he continued to smile as though everything was going perfectly to plan.

  He dropped a kiss to the middle of my forehead and then walked away, using something—I couldn’t quite see it—to unlock the door and slip out. I ran over there and tried the knob, but it was locked again before I could get it open.

  Shit.

  What was I supposed to do now?

  Chapter 22

  I paced the length of the room for a long time. I didn’t know what to do. I wished I’d thought to bring my cell phone with me this morning, but I left it in the stateroom, thinking I’d run into Miles in the dining room and could borrow his phone. I left the nice phone he gave me during our marriage at his place—I didn’t want to owe him anything after we divorced, including payments on a cell phone I hadn’t wanted in the first place. But the phone I had was cheap. I couldn’t call my aunts back in Florida if I wanted to with it—which was what I would have wanted my phone for this morning—so I figured I’d bum his off of him…but now would be a good time to have even that lousy phone. At least I could text Lisa, or call Miles, and get the hell out of here.

  Was it true? Was anything Dominic said true? Did Robert kill his sister in some sort of car accident? Did Miles really try to cover for his brother with a family of mobsters? Did that have something to do with why Miles had to marry me in the way that he did? Is that why he never told me why he wanted to marry me in such a hurry? If so…why? What the hell did he promise to do? Did he really agree to bring mobster business to Waco? Why would anyone do that? And, if that was the case, why didn’t he just tell me what was going on? Maybe I could have…I don’t know. I’d like to think I could have helped him get out of it, or something. But could I have? Really?

  None of it made sense. And I wasn’t sure who I could trust, who I could believe, and who was out to hurt me. Was Miles protecting me? Or did he just use me to protect himself? I mean, why would he protect Robert if he knew that Robert was sleeping with his fiancée? Why would he put himself in that sort of danger if he knew it would lead to his father turning his back on him and his brother acting so completely ungrateful?

  How much did Miles know when he stood up to protect his brother?

  I mean, I could see Miles doing something like what Dominic had said. I could see him taking the blame for something Robert did. I could even see him standing up to his father for Robert’s sake. But why would he continue to work with Martin de Luca after what Robert did to him?

  And why did Robert do it? Why would Robert marry Claire when he knew that she was the woman Miles loved and wanted to marry? And why would Claire marry Robert when she was still, so clearly, in love with Miles?

  My eyes moved to those pictures. There was no doubt in my mind that that was exactly what was going on in those pictures. Claire was still loyal to Miles.

  And then it occurred to me that maybe Claire knew what Miles was doing. Was she helping him? Was she part of the whole thing, too?

  Were they still lovers? Was Claire’s marriage to Robert a cover of some sort? Were they all lying to me?

  None of it made sense. But none of it had ever made sense.

  After a while, I crawled onto the bed and curled into a ball, a pillow in my arms, as I tried to figure out what my next move should be. Miles had to be looking for me. And he had to know I was still on the ship. After all, we were miles and miles from land. And Lisa. She had to suspect something was wrong. Was she looking for me? Did she think that Miles and I were…what? Spending time making up?

  That made my belly tighten a little.

  Maybe nobody was looking for me.

  There had to be a way for me to signal someone, to let them know where I was.

  I could see light coming in from underneath the door. I could slide a note or something underneath. Maybe someone would find it and get it to…someone.

  Maybe.

  I got up and searched the room for a piece of paper and something to write with. Like a hotel, there was a desk in the stateroom Miles and I shared. On the desk was a pad of paper and a pen with the cruise line logo on it. There had to be something like it in here, I just had to find it. But all the drawers in the chest were empty, as were the ones in the nightstand. I searched the drawers in the bathroom, but they were empty, too. My pockets were as empty as they’d been the day I bought my clothes, and there was nothing under the bed. There were the pictures, but there was nothing I could use to write on them. Besides, the backs were too slick. Ink wouldn’t stick to it properly. If I could find a pencil…

  I searched everywhere I could think of, finally turning circles and staring at the bed, the largest object in the room.

  There was a tag sticking out from under the fitted sheet.

  I grabbed it and pulled it free. There was print on the front, but the back was blank. If I had something to write with…damn! I wished I had my toiletry bag with me. My mascara or my eyeliner would have been a perfect writing implement. But I didn’t have either one, and I hadn’t bothered with makeup when I dressed this morning. Or was it yesterday morning now? I wasn’t even sure what time it was anymore.

  I ran my thumbs over the tag, trying to think.

  That’s when I noticed that when my nails dragged against the material, it left a mark.

  Would it last? Would anyone be able to read it?

  It was worth a try.

  Very carefully, using my pinky nail because it was the longest and the thinnest, I wrote:

  In bowels of ship. Dominic. Please come.

  Riley Thorn

  There wasn’t room to write much more. I hoped whoever found it got the idea.

  I carefully slid it under the door, hoping that it moved far enough out into the hallway that someone passing by might see it.

  But then I began to worry that one of the employees that Dominic paid off would find it first. Or Dominic might have men posted outside the door. Or Dominic himself might find it.

  Shit! What had I done?

  It was my only chance. I had to hope that someone else found it.

  ***

  I was curled up in bed again when Dominic came back. I wasn’t asleep, but I pretended that I was, hoping he’d just leave. I didn’t want to talk to him.

  No such luck.

  “If you want to eat, you better sit up. O
r I’ll leave and you’ll have to wait until we dock in Spain to eat.”

  My stomach growled and gave me away. I rolled over. Dominic was sitting in that chair again, a tray laden with a huge steak and a heaping pile of mashed potatoes in his hands. I think I started to drool. I hadn’t eaten anything since the burger at the roadside burger stand my aunts and I hit just before getting to Miami the day before, and the few nibbles I took of my dinner the night before. So, yeah, he had me at steak.

  I sat up and accepted the tray of food. Dominic smiled and that creeped me out a little. There was something about the way he looked at me that sat wrong in my chest. Why hadn’t I noticed how creepy he was when he took me on that date? I’d wanted him to call again. I’d wanted to go out with him again. He’d been kind and gentle and so different from Miles. And I’d wanted that.

  What was I thinking?

  “I’ve brought you some clothes and toiletries. I’d like for you to use them in the morning.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ll be docking in Spain late tomorrow afternoon. You and I will be leaving the ship.”

  Ice settled in my stomach, taking away some of the pleasure of the food I was shoveling in my mouth. It was like I was afraid he would take it away at any moment—which I really was. But with that, I put my fork down.

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  Dominic smiled that sickening sweet smile.

  “We’re going to get to know each other very well, Riley.”

  “Why? Why me?”

  “Because it’ll kill Miles.”

  Dominic moved to the edge of the bed, coming to sit right in front of me. It was then that I noticed the new bruise just below his right eye. He reached up and touched it, as my eyes widened.

  “Don’t worry. It doesn’t really hurt.”

  “Miles?”

  “He was pretty pissed when I let him know I was the one behind your sudden disappearance. Said a few words that aren’t really repeatable in a lady’s presence.”

  He touched the side of my face lightly. I pulled away and caused a spark of anger to flash in his eyes. However, then he sat back a little, that smile coming back.

  “I heard that you’ve always wanted to see Europe. We’ll do a little sightseeing, maybe, when you’ve settled down.”

  “You can’t force me to stay with you, Dominic.”

  “Don’t worry. After a while, you’ll enjoy my company. Most women do.”

  I started to shake my head, but he grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him.

  “You’ll discover that this whole thing will be a lot easier when you stop fighting me.”

  “You’re insane.”

  He stood abruptly and strode across the room.

  “My men will come get you tomorrow afternoon. Make sure you’re ready.”

  “I won’t stay with you. As soon as I’m outside of this room, I’m going to run.”

  He chuckled. “I’d like to see you try. Watching my men shoot you in front of Miles might be more entertaining than imagining his anguish when I’m making love to you.”

  I felt the color drain from my face. He only laughed again.

  “Oh, and I wouldn’t try any more of this nonsense.” He held up the thin tag I’d ripped from the mattress. “No one down here is going to help you.”

  My heart sank, tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. I bit my lip as my eyes fell to the tray on my lap, to the steak that was congealing in its own fat.

  A heavy sense of helplessness washed through me. It was over. No one was going to rescue me. And Dominic…there was no way of knowing exactly what he planned to do with me. I got the impression that he was the kind of guy who was always fascinated with new toys, but often grew bored with them after a time. He’d use me. I had no doubt of that. He’d use me in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine. But then he would tire of me. And then what?

  It was that unknown that frightened me the most.

  “Eat your dinner,” he barked before he left, once again securing the door. I didn’t even have to check it to know that it was locked as securely as before.

  I was no longer hungry. I pushed the tray aside and began to stand, intending to pace or something…I’m not really sure what I was going to do. But then I was hit with such an intense sense of vertigo that there was no doubt in my mind that there’d been something in the food.

  First chloroform, now drugs.

  What else did I have to look forward to?

  I carried the food into the bathroom and scraped it into the toilet, watching as it disappeared when I flushed everything down. The large chunks of steak swirling and gurgling as they slipped down the drain. Then I stuck my finger in my throat, not willing to take any chances. I needed to be in full control of my senses tomorrow. If there was any chance I could slip away from Dominic’s men, I needed to be fully aware to take the opportunity if it presented itself.

  I wouldn’t allow myself to think about the possibility of a gun.

  Chapter 23

  I showered the next morning, as instructed, surprised to find many of the items in the toiletry bag Dominic had brought me were the things I usually buy for myself. I didn’t even allow myself to wonder how he knew what to buy. The clothes, on the other hand, were nothing like what I might normally wear. They were more appropriate to older women, like my aunts. Linen slacks with an elastic waistband. A long, flowered, button-up blouse. A heavy blue cardigan. And thick soled nursing-style shoes.

  I paced the room after I dressed, aware that the ship was no longer moving because the vibrations in the walls had changed. That meant they would come for me soon. I worked through several scenarios in my mind, trying to figure out how I could get away before we even left the room. I’d taken a self-defense class in college with Lisa when there was a rash of rapes near the dorms. Maybe I could place a few well-executed punches to the guy’s throat. But if there were two of them…or maybe I could distract one or both with a flash of cleavage…unless they were gay…or I could simply ask them to let me go.

  It all seemed so helpless. I hated feeling helpless.

  And all I could think about were my aunts. What would they do without me to take care of them? They were always getting themselves into trouble. Taking out a mortgage on the house they inherited—mortgage-free—from their father was just the most recent of the trouble they were known to get themselves into. What if I never saw them again? What if they were left to their own devices? How long would it be before they owed some loan shark money or one of them got sick or injured or—God forbid!—they got themselves arrested over some misunderstanding?

  I would never forgive myself if anything happened to my aunts. They gave up everything to take me in almost twenty years ago. I owed them everything. I couldn’t just…

  The doorknob rattled. I turned, my heart pounding, my stomach churning.

  This was it.

  Two men, both equally tall, both equally muscular—like, Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson muscular—and both equally indifferent walked in.

  “Put this on,” the first one said, tossing a hooded sweatshirt at me.

  I grabbed it out of the air and slid it over my floral blouse, my nose wrinkling at the foul odor that permeated every bit of the fleece.

  “Who does this belong to?”

  The man didn’t answer. But he slid a gun out from somewhere behind his back and held it casually at his side. That was answer enough.

  I pulled the sweatshirt close around me and zipped it up. The man gestured with the gun, showing me that I should pull the hood over my head, too, which I did.

  “These, too,” the other guy said, holding out a pair of sunglasses. I moved closer to them to take the glasses, looking for an opening. Could I punch one of them? Could I get some sort of advantage? But that gun was just too much of an obstacle.

  I had to get out of this alive. What good would I be to anyone if I let them shoot me?

  The first man grabbed my arm just above the
elbow and led the way to the door.

  I walked slowly, remembering that I was supposed to be drugged. I’m not sure what they put in my food, how long it might have lasted, or what its effects might have been if I hadn’t thrown the majority of it up. But I figured shuffling my feet gave me a little extra time to study the layout of the hallway, so that had to be good enough.

  But there was nothing. I don’t know where they were holding me, but there was nothing in the hallway that resembled the safety equipment, paintings, and decorations that were in the hallway outside of Miles and my suite. The walls were a dull beige, the carpet a cheap indoor/outdoor type. There were no decorations and no paintings. There was nothing until we reached the elevator.

  A man in uniform stepped off the elevator when the doors opened. He seemed startled to see us, his eyes flicking to my face momentarily, then he suddenly found the carpet at his feet incredibly fascinating.

  “Please,” I whispered. And for that I got a smack on the side of my face that forced me against the elevator wall.

  “Try that again,” the guy with the gun said, shoving it against my ribs, “then you will get a hell of a lot more than you bargained for.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, reaching up to touch my jaw.

  I guess I looked suitably whipped because the guy turned away and gestured for his friend to punch the proper button. As the doors closed, I saw the uniformed man turn and glance at me, his eyes moving from me to the gun and back to the cheap carpet again.

  The elevator doors opened a floor below the main deck. The man with the gun grabbed me and pulled me against his side, the gun cleverly hidden under my sweatshirt in such a way that we looked like lovers who couldn’t quite get enough of one another. My hands were shaking, and I wasn’t sure my knees were going to stay under me as we took the stairs up to the main deck. I wondered what would happen if I started to scream. There were a lot of people up here, other passengers excited to get off the ship and see the coast of Spain. If I screamed…but the cold steel of that gun was too much to ignore.