Delirium (Captive Love: Forced Proximity Standalones #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

SCARLETT

W ake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

I jolted awake, sunlight streaming in through the slatted blinds. The residual taste of a dream lingered on my tongue, and I tried my best to grasp onto it. I was forgetting something. Something important. But sleep was intoxicating, lulling me back to my dream. Except…

The cruise. Shit.

One look at the old clock on the wall told me I was late—very late. I was supposed to be at the docks for my riverboat cruise at nine. The glaring digits screamed at me that it was just after eight. Swatting at the mosquito hovering over my head, I tossed on the clothes I’d laid out the night before, cramming anything that wasn’t already packed into my bags. The alluring scent of orchids filled the thick, humid air. The heat already made itself known, clinging to my skin even as I dressed. Cicadas kept time with their never-ending song, calling out to the world in the pale orange light of the rainforest morning.

I hated being late. My bags were heavier than they probably needed to be, but I wasn’t about to leave anything behind.

Heading to the front desk, I tossed the key for the small hostel I’d been staying at on the counter, pointing outside. “The docks are that way, right?”

The tiny dark-haired clerk nodded. “Take a right, head through the market, and it’ll be at the far side. Only a short trip, I hope? The rainy season is soon. I’m surprised a boat is even leaving at this time.”

“Short trip! You’ll see me again in a couple weeks!” I called over my shoulder, paying little attention to her warning. I knew rainy season was creeping closer and closer, but a chartered cruise operation wouldn’t take on passengers unless it was completely safe. Two weeks free of responsibility. No emails. No cell phones. Nothing, except me and nature.

I followed my nose toward the market, trying to not get distracted by the crazy beauty that surrounded me. The soft golds of the morning had already given way to the most beautiful robin’s egg sky, sunny, with not even a hint of foreboding, rainy-season clouds. Tiny purple flowers dotted the deep green foliage surrounding the clearing. Kids ran through without a care, dogs of all sizes nipping at their heels as they laughed.

The market was bustling already, filled with vendors selling anything from produce I’d never seen before to small, handcrafted, wooden statues at tiny stalls, and even more people trying to haggle with them. The more I watched, the more it all seemed to be a game. Everyone knew their bottom price going into the interaction—did that make it a game or the entire haggle a lie?

At the end of the stalls, I could just make out the river, where a few covered boats bobbed. The electric yellows and oranges were a welcoming contrast to the dark river they sat upon. I breathed a sigh of relief. I made it. My stomach chose that moment to grumble angrily, reminding me I’d yet to eat today.

I looked around at the stalls, trying to find something quick and easy. The sheer number of options overwhelmed me, the smells of fresh fruit conflicting with the thick scents of something cooking over a fire. I looked in every direction, unsure of where to even start.

“Hungry?”

An older woman greeted me, her bright pink dress a shock of color, even amongst the shades of the market. I smiled. “How’d you know?”

“Call it a good guess.” She smiled back at me, inviting me over. “Lots of fresh produce this morning.”

Her booth housed every kind of fruit imaginable. “Anything I can eat easily on the go?”

“Ah, you young ones are always in a rush. Might be best to stay still for a while. A lot of life happens in a few moments.”

Her gentle warning didn’t bother me any more than the hostel clerk’s had. The old woman could’ve been my grandmother, looking out for me. “Maybe when I get back, I’ll have a chance to do just that. I’m on my way to a riverboat cruise.”

“In that case, I can cut this papaya open for you.” I nodded, and she proceeded to use a sharp knife to slice it open. “I hope you aren’t going too close to the lost city. It’s not meant to be found. It’s been cursed for a long time.”

I took the prepared papaya she offered, my smile wavering only slightly. I’d read a bit about the lost city in my research, and while it sounded incredibly interesting, I wasn’t sure about the scientific probability of curses. “Not this time, I don’t think.”

“Lots of things aren’t meant to be found are found anyway. Such is the circle of life. Tell me, does a pretty girl like you have a boyfriend?”

I handed her some money, taking a bite out of the fruit. It really was sweet. “Not right now. It seems impossible to think about being with one person forever.”

Her smile widened, taking decades off her life, until we could’ve been the same age, girls sharing secrets at a slumber party. “Never say never, dear.”

I wasn’t sure how to even respond to her teasing, so I thanked her and turned back toward the dock, thoughtfully munching on my breakfast.

I did my best to shake off the weird vibes the old woman gave me. She was just being nice, and I was being odd about it. Besides, today was going to be a good day. I knew it. I had a feeling nothing could stop me from having an adventure. A real one.

Today, I was going treasure hunting.

Here’s the thing about seeking treasure—it’s addictive. Once you start, you can’t stop. It’s all you can think about. There’s a reason those adventure movies have so many sequels. Not only does the audience crave more, but it’s logical to think so would our handsome adventurer. He wouldn’t stop at just one hunt, ever. There’s always a chance you might miss out on your next big find.

There’s something else about treasure, though. It’s not always the pot of gold, or the chest filled with emeralds and rubies.

Sometimes treasure is nothing more than a pile of ash and rubble, remnants of a full life once lived. Sometimes it’s a pile of bones.

That’s my treasure—the rubble and the bones. The pieces of a past life I can put together, like a puzzle with no picture to reference. I think it’s the reason I went into anthropology in the first place, a natural extension of my love of figuring things out.

It’s probably how I ended up here, now standing on the banks of this churning river, swatting away no-see-ums by the hundreds. Sweat dripped down my back, disproving the claims that my shirt wicked away moisture. The wooden dock I stood on wouldn’t have passed any kind of structural testing, and yet I couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across my face.

“Jesus,” I muttered, batting away another cloud of the tiny black bugs. Happy or not, these bugs annoyed the hell out of me. I frowned as I slapped at a mosquito leaving behind a tiny pool of blood. I hadn’t even felt it bite me.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to let a few teeny tiny bugs ruin a beautiful day like today!” a cheerful voice called out.

An extremely shirtless man stood a few feet away, a length of rope looped around his broad, tanned, shoulders, and a smile a dozen dentists would’ve fought over for their toothpaste commercials.

I laughed. “I’m fairly certain no-see-ums are the least of my problems. Although there are a few mosquitoes in the mix, too. I think I saw a crocodile sizing me up a few minutes ago.” I pulled at my shirt beneath my backpack, shifting from side to side to attempt to create some kind of breeze.

“Mmm…I wouldn’t worry about old Humphrey down there. I don’t think you’re his type.” Mr. Shirtless winked, leaping from the dock to one of the flat-bottomed houseboats that had seen better days. “See, not that you don’t look delicious and all, but Humphrey here has been spoiled by the market. He only likes his meat feathered and squawking, two features you seem to be missing.”

He started rolling the rope up on a hook on the exterior wall of the boat, while I blinked, trying to process the conversation we were having. “...Humphrey?”

The man stopped his job, cocking his head toward me. “Well, of course, darling. Can’t you see he bears an uncanny resemblance to Humphrey Bogart?”

A laugh escaped my chest the man’s positively serious face a stark contrast to the scaly visage of the crocodile glaring at me beneath the murky river. The longer I stared at the croc, the more I could kind of see what the stranger meant.

“Ha! You see it, too.” He smiled, pleased with himself. “But where are my manners? I’m Nash Wright, captain of the Carpe Diem here. And you are…”

“Scarlett. Scarlett Ward. And I guess you’re my ride.” I looked down at the crinkled paper they’d given me in the city before the bus took me down the winding, muddy roads, deeper into the rainforest than I’d ever been. Nash Wright. Carpe Diem . I glanced over the boat. It wasn’t the worst-looking boat docked, by any means, but there were a few too many pieces of duct tape holding the sides together than I preferred.

“Proud to be the last boat to launch before the rainy season. Everyone else has already chickened out for the year, but Carpe Diem and I aren’t scared of a little rain.” Nash patted the side of the boat with fondness. “She might not look like much, but she’s home, and she’ll get you down the river and back in one piece. I’ve been giving this tour for a decade now, and I’ve never once had a passenger with more than a sprained ankle. Frankly, I told that woman she was too old to go cliff diving, but do you think she listened to me?”

“Captain Wright, I?—”

He brushed off my interjection with a wave of a hand that emphasized every muscle in his stomach. I didn’t realize someone could have more than a six pack, but it looked natural on him. “Just Nash, please. There’s no reason for all those fancy titles on the boat.”

“Nash, I trust your boat?—”

“ Carpe Diem . I might not need titles, but she likes them.” Another pat on the side of the boat, like she was a cat, and not a bunch of rusted steel.

I sighed, and tried again. “Nash, I promise I trust you and Carpe Diem . You don’t need to sell me on anything, because I’ve already bought my ticket.”

“Oh.” Nash ran a hand through his thick, dark, wavy hair, and for the first time since I met him looked at a loss for words.

I felt a little bad for disrupting his sales pitch he so obviously enjoyed, but I was literally melting with this backpack strapped to me. “I could use a hand getting my stuff on board though, if you don’t mind.”

He perked up immediately. “Absolutely. What can I get for you?”

I pointed to the duffle bag at my feet. “If you can grab that, I think I can manage the rest.”

Nash hopped over the edge of the boat, the dock creaking and swaying once more. He swung my duffle bag effortlessly onto his shoulder, as if it didn’t weigh a metric ton, and jumped back onto the boat.

I followed suit, focusing on keeping my balance, and took the hand Nash offered me until I was firmly planted on the deck of the Carpe Diem , my home for the next two weeks. Immediately, I shrugged off my backpack, tossing it to the floor and heaving a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Jesus. I thought that thing was going to drag me down to the pits of Hell.”

He laughed. “I was going to say your stuff weighs a bit more than my average passenger’s. What do you have in there anyway?”

“My notebooks, a textbook or two.” I shrugged. “Normal stuff, I would think.”

“Scarlett, darling, most people who come on my boat are looking for adventure. Maybe they just got some bad news, or went through a divorce. But they’re all coming for the same thing—they’re looking to feel alive. They’re not bringing books.” His face crinkled slightly when he met my gaze. “I have a feeling you’re not like the other people by a long shot.”

“Probably not,” I agreed. The idea didn’t bother me. I was a scientist, capable of studying and adventuring at the same time. Also, I was used to being an outsider. “How many more are we waiting for?”

Nash looked to the sky as if it held an invisible list I wasn’t privy to. “Small group this time. Three guests, including you, of course.”

I leaned over the railing, looking at the river, completely alive beneath the hull of the boat. “Have you lived here all your life, Nash?”

“No. I guess you could say I used to be one of my guests. Some bad news had me running from my real life, and I didn’t feel like staying still until I found her. Carpe Diem , that is. It was like she was waiting for me, just like I was looking for her, neither of us realizing we were searching for each other. Isn’t that how life always seems to go, though?”

Nash stared off into the distance once more, completely lost in thought. I wanted to ask him more about why he left, about why he ended up here, in the rainforest of all places, but now didn’t seem like the right time.

From behind us, a man’s voice interrupted. “Is this the Carpe Diem ?”

Like a switch flipped, Nash turned off his thoughtful face and replaced it with a mechanical-looking smile. “You’ve come to the right place.”

Following the new voice, I saw a man dressed far too nicely for a two-week riverboat trip. His dress shirt was white, expensive, and perfectly pressed. My eyes widened when I realized there wasn’t a single bit of sweat marking the thick material. That was an impressive feat in and of itself.

A sneer crossed his mouth, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. “Are you sure this vessel is seaworthy?”

If Nash was offended, he didn’t show it. “ Carpe Diem here has been on this river for longer than either of us have been alive, and will likely be on it for centuries after we’re gone. She’s unsinkable.”

“Yes, I’m sure she is.”

I had been unsure of Carpe Diem myself, but the tone the new arrival took made me want to defend her. What did he and his perfectly pressed white shirt know anyway? Nothing that money couldn’t tell them, that was what.

As he used the gangplank I’d missed when I boarded, I examined the man, taking in every inch of him. He came across as slightly older than Nash, but it could have just been the aristocratic skin that had never seen a day of hard work. His jaw was cut from stone, his sharp blue eyes examining his surroundings with a shrewd gaze.

I wondered how long his immaculately coiffed blond hair would hold in the humidity. The braid I’d wrangled my long hair into was already making my neck sweat, and the second I had an opportunity to, I was going to put it up in a bun, away from as much skin as possible. But somehow his hair looked like it had been glued into place, not a stray strand to be found.

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the river. So far, I wasn’t sure what the dynamics on the boat were going to be. Nash seemed to not let much bother him, while our new guest looked like he thrived on rules. Maybe I didn’t even need to journey further into the rainforest for fodder to use in my research paper. I could just start taking notes on the power dynamics on the boat. Would it get published? Probably not. But it would be interesting for me . I found it odd that my companion hadn’t introduced himself to Nash, but I was probably overthinking things, as usual.

The scent of sandalwood wafted over, overpowering the smell of the marshy banks. I didn’t need to turn my head to know the new passenger had found his way to the railing.

I leaned against the wall of the boat to examine my new subject up close and personal. “You don’t look thrilled with Carpe Diem .”

“Yes, well, it’s not quite what I expected when I booked a luxury tour down the river, is it?” His voice was quiet, and filled with sarcasm, but not as cold as I expected it to sound.

“Oh, were you expecting a five-star cruise ship? I don’t think those can fit down the canal, unfortunately. You’ll have to go back to Miami for that.”

He raised his brow at me, as if he was figuring out where to place me in his ranking of things that disgusted him. “I wasn’t expecting a five-star cruise ship. But a bit less duct tape would’ve been nice.”

I snorted, the laugh escaping me before I could stop it. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It’s just that I thought the same thing about the duct tape when I came aboard. But Nash says it’s seaworthy, and I don’t see a reason not to trust him.”

“She,” Nash correctly cheerfully, appearing out of nowhere, still shirtless, with a massive fishing net in his arms. “ Carpe Diem is a she, not an it.”

“Sorry,” I whispered to the boat. Nash’s feelings about the boat being very much a person were infectious, and a momentary flicker of guilt echoed through me. I turned my attention back to the new man. “What brings you aboard anyway? You don’t seem the kind looking for action and adventure.”

“I’m not.” He unbuttoned his sleeves, one at a time, cuffing them in sharp rolls. “I’m here on business.”

I looked around the rainforest, the thick green tapestry that surrounded us from the front, and the swaying dock behind us, and the marketplace even further back. Unless he was a secret farmer—which I seriously doubted—I wasn’t sure what kind of business he had on the river.

Apparently, my confusion was written all over my face, because he rolled his eyes. “I invested in a mining expedition. They had ample evidence of a location boasting more wealth than the world currently knows. I haven’t heard from them in some time, so I decided to check up on them and their supposed location myself. Unfortunately for me, Nash’s tour was the only one headed in the same direction at this time. No fancy cruises for me.”

If I had known him better, I could’ve sworn the last part was a joke. Did he have a sense of humor after all?

“Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for then. Treasure and all.”

“Same for you. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” He held out his hand, an aristocratic hand if I’d ever seen one. “Obviously my manners went out the window the moment I stepped onto this shipwreck in the making. James Remington, at your service. Or as much as I can be.”

“I’m Scarlett.” I took his hand, soft and smooth. “It’s nice to meet you. I have a feeling we’ll be getting to know each other pretty well over the next couple weeks.”

James gave me a look, one that left me unsure if I should run or step closer. “Perhaps.”

“I don’t know where our last passenger is,” Nash said, looking down at the worn watch on his wrist. “I don’t like to leave people behind, but if we don’t set sail in the next ten minutes, we won’t be able to safely make camp before dusk.”

For the first time since booking this trip, an image of the rainforest at night shot through my brain. A snake as thick as my thigh wound itself around a tree, while the lone call of a hungry animal stood out against the symphony of nocturnal creatures. Danger. I had willingly booked a trip into dangerous territory, for what reason? My own ego? To prove to myself I was more than just a piece of paper, who could teach university?

I held great admiration for my professors in school, who seemingly knew more than I ever did. But I wanted more for myself. Before I settled down to a life of desks and grading papers, I wanted to explore exactly what I had spent so much time researching. Nature. Culture. Natural habitats and humanity living in it.

In doing so, I’d found myself in an unknown wilderness. My skin crawled with invisible bugs, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight and tall, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, Humphrey was staring me down from behind.

James and Nash spoke quietly to each other, while I turned to face the grumpy croc. His heavy eyes glared at me, just above the surface of the murky water. I wasn’t sure if I entirely believed Nash—if push came to shove, and I was the food available, I had no doubts Humphrey would gobble me up without a moment’s hesitation.

Such was the way of the world. The bigger predators ate the smaller ones, who terrified those even smaller than them. A hierarchical totem pole that stretched back millennia.

The struggles appeared when two individuals battled for the same place in the hierarchy, neither wanting to admit their weakness, until one predator turned into prey.

I smiled at Humphrey, stuffing the fear he instilled me with deep inside my bones. “You’re not scary at all. After all, no one would make a purse out of me .”

Humphrey merely glared back at me, unbothered by my threats.

I lifted the hair off my neck, grateful for even the slightest change in the thick air as a breeze whispered past. With it, carried James’ angry voice.

“I’m not waiting for whoever it is not bothering to show up on time. I paid double the amount to make sure this journey was swift, and I will not take kindly to any interference,” he hissed.

My lashes provided me cover as I watched their discussion. Nash didn’t seem bothered by James’ annoyance in the slightest. He shrugged. “Listen, I appreciate that. But I told you I would try to keep us on time. Unfortunately, some things are out of my control. I’m going to give our straggler five more minutes, and then I promise we will head out with or without him.”

James huffed, a sound filled with deep disappointment. “I’m providing you with an opportunity greater than your dinky little boat could ever offer, Nash. Don’t make me regret it.”

Nash paled slightly, and I found myself leaning into the conversation. What opportunity could James be offering him? As far as I was aware, the two men had only just met. He looked from side to side, not meeting James’ eyes, and instead meeting mine.

“Five minutes, and we’re moving out!” He clapped his hands toward me, brushing off the strange conversation as if it had never happened. “Hope you’re ready for the trip of a lifetime!”

Nash pushed past James, headed toward what I assumed was the bridge, as I could see an old wooden steering wheel behind a pane of glass.

Beneath my feet, Carpe Diem roared to life. James looked down the river, where we’d soon be headed, while Nash shielded his eyes toward the market, presumably to find our missing guest. A minute ticked by, then another.

“Guess we’re headed out,” Nash announced, with a sour look at James. “Scarlett, I already stowed your bags in your cabin nearest the back of the boat. Say goodbye to the last bit of civilization you’ll see for the next couple weeks.”

I walked closer to James, hanging over the railing while Nash untied the ropes mooring us to the dock. “Funny how this marketplace is the closest to civilization we’ll see, but compared to the city, it’s nothing.”

James muttered an agreement, and Nash unfastened the last remaining rope. “And we’re off!”

At the end of the marketplace, a commotion rang out, rippling through the crowd. A lithe young man sprinted toward the dock, nothing but a backpack on his back.

He sprinted right toward us .

“Wait!” he called, out of breath. “ Wait !”

The man was twenty feet away from us now, but we were a good two feet away from the dock. “Nash! Your passenger!” I shouted.

Nash looked back at me from the helm, shaking his head. “The current already has us.”

I whipped my head back around to stare at the man who now had made it to the dock, wobbling beneath his feet. He looked positively petrified to miss the boat, but I would be, too, if a good deal of money was on the line. I looked between the deck and the boat, now almost six feet of separation. “Jump!”

The man’s eyes widened. James stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

“Jump!” I repeated. “It’s not that far! Throw your backpack first!” If he waited any longer, it would be too late.

The man gave one last glance over his shoulder, before tossing me his backpack, and stepping back. Behind him, the chaos in the marketplace grew louder. With a running start, he leaped, easily crossing the distance between the boat and the dock.

He landed on the deck with a solid thunk, rolling until he could sit up. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, but he coughed out a, “Thanks.”

Nash killed the engine, the noises Carpe Diem made grinding to a halt, but he was right about the current. It kept pulling us further and faster away from the dock. The captain came to stand with us. I waited for his praise, or a ‘well done’ for not letting his passenger miss the boat, by any means necessary. Instead, he was silent.

“Well,” Nash began. “I’m not going to say I’m not impressed with the thought process, but you missed one minor detail, darling.”

I cocked my head, waiting for him to continue.

“You see, our last passenger was supposed to be a man named Daniel.”

“Okay, and?”

Nash pointed to the large airplane tag strapped to the newest arrival’s backpack. “What does that say?”

I waited for my eyes to focus. Camp Hart. My jaw dropped, and I looked from the man I had just helped onto the boat, to the shouting cops who had just pushed through the crowd in the marketplace, to the nametag, and finally to Nash.

Nash chewed on his cheek. “So either way, you just helped our new friend here escape the police, and because of the current, I can’t turn this boat around until I get to the next fork.”

The words sank in. I had literally invited a criminal on board. Perhaps someone even scarier than Humphrey.

An adventure of a lifetime was one way to put it.