JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)

by Glenna Sinclair

  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. Or 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.

  It wasn’t until we got to the top of the stairs that I realized the other guy had disappeared. The man with the gun whispered in my ear, “Just walk straight. Don’t try anything funny.” He shoved the gun harder against my back as a reminder of what would happen if I ignored him.

  I kept my back stiff and walked at a steady clip, afraid to slow down or speed up, afraid his finger might get a little twitchy on that trigger. We rounded the corner of the main deck and joined the line of people waiting to disembark. There were several tour buses and taxis parked at the long end of the dock. Large groups of people were swarming the buses, but only a few were headed toward the taxis. And then a large SUV, one similar to the type that celebrities often take to and from the airport, pulled up behind them. I instinctively knew that was where I was headed. And I only had a few thousand feet to figure out how to get out of this.

  I thought about pulling away and trying to get lost in the crowd, but I was afraid his hand would get tangled in my clothes, or he’d shoot some innocent bystander. I couldn’t live with that.

  And then we were at the railing and he was pushing me down the gangplank. I thought it was over, there was nothing I could do. But then someone behind us screamed. I turned automatically. As I did, I spotted Miles and Lisa at the rail. My heart skipped a beat as I realized this was my one chance. They were watching the people leaving the ship, clearly trying to spot me. If I could signal them, then maybe…

  What could I do that they would understand but the man with the gun on my back wouldn’t?

  I racked my mind, trying to figure out what to do. We were halfway down the gangplank by the time it occurred to me. And it would be perfect.

  When Lisa and I were younger, we had this hand signal we would do whenever we passed each other in the hallway at school or spotted each other across the cafeteria. It was a simple three movement gesture: two raised fingers, then a little shake, ending with a fist.

  I closed my eyes and purposely tripped over my own feet, causing the guy with his hand under my sweatshirt to grab my arm. I twisted toward him, doing the hand gesture over h
is shoulder. Twice. But I couldn’t see Lisa, so I wasn’t sure she actually saw me. Then the guy forced me back around and shoved me forward, the gun back against the small of my back.

  It was done. Either she saw it or she didn’t. Either she knew I was on my way off the boat or she didn’t. All I could do was send up a silent prayer and hope something happened.

  We were at the SUV moments later, and the gunman’s hand was gone as he shoved me inside. Dominic was sitting on the bench seat, waiting for me. He pulled my wrist, tugging me up beside him. I pulled away as quickly as I could. Then we were moving, the ship disappearing behind us. I turned around and tried to catch sight of Miles and Lisa, but we were at the wrong angle and much too far away.

  “There will be some better clothes waiting for you on the plane,” Dominic said. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to get out of those.”

  I sank down in the seat and closed my eyes again.

  Please, please, please.

  Chapter 24

  The plane was a private jet that was sleek and perfect on the private runway. It reminded me a little of the plane that Miles and I took to Massachusetts months and months ago. But that was a very different time. Miles…even though we weren’t really together then, being with him made me feel safe. The thing is, I really hate flying. I haven’t done it much. Twice, actually. Once to Massachusetts and once back to Texas. And Miles had been there, holding my hand. His presence had been so reassuring that it really wasn’t a big deal. But this was different.

  Dominic frightened me more than the movement of the plane.

  I couldn’t breathe as I hid in the bathroom. I was supposed to be changing, but I couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. All I could think was how desperately I wished Miles was here. Despite everything, I wanted him with me. I wanted to feel his hand in mine. I wanted the safety of knowing I could trust him to be there for me. Even now, even when I was no longer sure I could trust him, I wanted to trust him.