(Please first read Book One in Digital Members section)
CHER
Like an impressionist artists trying to capture a fleeting moment, I cling to the memory of his body all over mine as I study the changing colors in the skyline out the airplane window.
I can’t believe I’m arriving in Miami with Pirate aboard his private airplane. For one, it’s gorgeous...
The late day sky is deep blue with with a single, pink cotton-candy cloud. White yachts are parked along the calm blue waters. The sun drops a little lower and suddenly the skyscrapers along the beach are smattered in irregular patterns of light. Black towers with gold that imitates the streaking sunset behind. It occurs to me that you can’t watch the sun set over the beach on the West coast of Florida, but the sunrise. But from the sky and water you get to see the skyline glow as darkness seeps in around it. Yeah, it’s beautiful. But what the hell am I doing here?
Staying alive. But it’s even more complicated than that.
I turn from the view and study his handsome face. Pirate. Bastion. I’m slowly getting to know the man I’ve been enthralled with from when he was only a shadow; a dangerously sexy threat. I played with fire. But will I get burned?
It’s hard to think ahead, and impossible to plan. I’ve always been a planner, an organizer. But my existence has been upended. I’m in his world now, biding my time. After the unthinkable happened—after he killed Jason—he seemed to have second thoughts about keeping me captive. Said he wanted to be rid of me, but then he wouldn’t let me return home. Too dangerous. For now. Until the bad guys forget me, which should be soon enough. I’m just a pawn on a board of real players. But enough time needs to pass to convince them that I’m dead. Then I can be free. But will I be? How can I return to my old life after what has happened? I feel I’ll never be the same again.
For one, I don’t have a job to go back to. Everybody I worked for is dead. But changing jobs is the least of my problems. I stood and watched my ex boyfriend be murdered. How will I live with that?
Sighing, I gather my hair aside and fasten my seat belt as the pilot announces landing. Pirate opens one eye. When he sees me, the satisfied lift of his sexy mouth makes me crazy inside. I like pleasing him, and I like how that goes both ways. When we began our twisted interrogation of Jason, Pirate didn’t have to concern himself with how I was feeling. But he has seemed utmost aware of how I’m feeling at all times. He’s intensely attuned to me, the way he deeply studies my expressions and the look in my eyes. That intensity plays itself out full throttle when he’s commanding my body. He makes me feel like he’s been just as obsessed with me and I have been with him. Starting with him stalking me.
This unhealthy obsession has led to this point, but it’s so much more than I could have ever bargained for. I’m in over my head, but I get the feeling so is he.
He broke his own rules because of me.
Including sharing private information. He regrets sharing his true name. The first time I said, Bastion, he cringed. His shoulders tensed, and he took a deep breath through his nose before leaving me. The second time I said his name, he was a tad calmer. He even briefly gave me some insight into his past. But it wasn’t much. It still feels like he is more comfortable being my shadow. Knowing far more about me than I do him.
That’s what he’s used to. Being in the background. Being in control. Having intel on others. But he doesn’t like that going both ways. At least not with me. Not yet.
Part of me wants to get closer. Part of me is scared as hell.
When we began our twisted interrogation of Jason, Pirate didn’t have to concern himself with how I was feeling. But he seems so intensely attuned to me, the way he studies my expressions and the look in my eyes. That intensity plays itself out full throttle when he’s commanding my body. He makes me feel like he’s been just as obsessed with me and I have been with him. Starting with him stalking me.
This unhealthy obsession has led to this point, but it’s so much more than I could have bargained for. I’m in over my head, but I get the feeling so is he.
He broke his own rules because of me.
Including sharing private information. He regrets sharing his true name. The first time I said, Bastion, he cringed. His shoulders tensed, and he took a deep breath through his nose before leaving me. His name from my lips had a power over him, and I think he resented that.
The second time I said his name, he was a tad calmer. He even briefly gave me some insight into his past. But it wasn’t much. It still feels like he is more comfortable being my shadow. Knowing far more about me than I do him.
That’s what he’s used to. Being in the background, being in control, having intel on others. But he doesn’t like that going both ways. At least not with me. Not yet.
When he wakes and his chair lifts, I’m expecting him to seem relaxed. Quite the opposite. Whatever moment of relief I saw in his blue eyes after he came hard inside me, is gone. He looks as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, reminding me that this trip isn’t what I told my family it was. A mere vacation. No, this is work.
“Do you...regret bringing me?” I ask just before the plane hits the runway.
He looks at me, running his hand through his mess of dark hair.
“What’s done is done,” he shrugs, his tone heavy.
Is it because he killed a man? No, I don’t think so. He’s done it before and he said he has no regrets.
“Just get your things,” he orders, unbuckling his seat belt before the plane has come to a full stop.
“My bag is right here,” I say, feeling the sting of his dismissive tone.
“You might not have enough clothes,” he says, glancing at the tote bag as I lift it from the ground. His thoughtful observation softens the blow.
“How long will we be here?”
He shakes his head. “As long as it takes.”
“So, I’ll do some shopping,” I smile, trying to be positive. I don’t know when I’ll see the rest of my wardrobe again, nor anything else at my abandoned home. Every day since my abduction, I’ve thought of new things I’m missing and wish I would have brought. Like my favorite hand cream and my other purse.
“Are we staying at a hotel or do you have a place here in Miami?” I ask as we exit the plane.
“I've got a place. Maybe not what your expecting.”
“What could I be expecting? I know nothing about…your life.”
“You know some,” he says, his tone softer than before.
He studies my eyes a moment before reaching his hand to my face. The caress of my chin between his fingers is soothing.
“But you want to know more. Don’t you, love?”
Butterflies flutter in my chest as he reads my reaction. It’s like he enjoys putting me on the spot. I press my lips with a nod as the edge of his mouth lifts. “Come on. Let’s go," he half smiles, taking my hand.
When we descend the steps a black SUV is waiting.
I’m expecting the driver to take us into the city but we coast along the beachfront highway until the sky rises fall back and a natural area with palm trees and mangroves appears.
“Biscane Bay,” the driver says, motioning toward the sea. I gaze across the bright blue waters, landing my sights along a narrow island in the near distance.
I want to ask about Pirate’s job here and where exactly we are going. But he probably doesn’t want to talk about that in front of the driver. So I watch the changing scenery in silence. When Pirate claims my hand for the second time today, part of me hates how good it feels.
Since he came into my life, he terrifies and comforts me nearly every hour of the day. So what the hell is this between us? I can’t wrap my mind around it. I highly doubt that a normal or healthy relationship can ever come from these twisted circumstances. All I can do for now, is play along and make the best of things until I’m free again. If I’m going to be in captivity—or protective custody—I might as well enjoy what moments I can. Right now, his big strong hand holding mine feels good.
When I glance at him he winks at me before nudging his head toward the window. I follow his gaze to where boats are docked along a pier.
“Black Point Marina. That’s where I keep my ship.”
My eyes widen. “Your ship?”
“A sailing yacht, to be exact.”
“We’re going boating?” I smile, liking how this feels less like a mercenary work trip than a real vacay. The driver pulls into the marina.
“After we get settled in, I can take you for a spin.”
“You mean we’re staying—“
“Aboard my ship, yes.”
Now I know what he meant when he said his “place” might not be what I’m expecting. So, the Pirate has a ship.
