Chapter 5 #2
“I can and I will.” His voice is hard, unrelenting.
He’s become the vor he never wanted to be.
“I know you don’t like it, but being out on the open water, constantly on the move, is the best way to keep you safe.
Your brother would agree.” I roll my eyes.
Right. This is about Yulian. He’s not doing this because he cares about me.
“Consider this a vacation.” He clears his throat. “With your fake fiancé.”
My heart stills in my chest. “I’m sorry, I clearly misheard you.”
“You didn’t.”
“You’re very clearly out of your mind, Leo. Mentally unwell,” I say, pointing to my head. “I’m thinking it might be a head injury.” Because it’ll be a cold day in hell when I’d consider touching that man for any other reason than to throttle him.
But Leo isn’t fazed. He leans back in his seat, threading his hands behind his head, a lazy grin on his face.
"The staff can't know our true identities or our real reasons for being here.
We'll pose as a wealthy American couple. I spontaneously popped the question during our trip to Paris, and here we are, on a spur-of-the-moment trip, celebrating our impending nuptials.”
“Jeee-sus.” I have to close my eyes for a minute to try and absorb everything Leo’s just thrown at me. My mind spins in a million different directions, and none of them are good. “This won’t work. I can’t do it.”
“Aly.” There’s sympathy in his gaze and it makes me feel exposed, vulnerable.
A feeling I hate. “You’ve been through a lot.
You killed a man, and even though you handled it like a goddamn rock star, I’m going to guess that’s the first life you’ve ever taken.
” I look away from him, not wanting him to see the emotion building in my eyes.
“There’s no shame in that. You made the choice to leave a life full of threats and danger behind, you shouldn’t have to be pulled back in.
Let me handle this for you. I’ll keep you safe. ”
Tears threaten, but I won’t let them fall. I haven’t cried since my mother died two years ago, and I’m not about to start now. I shrug, feeling defensive. “Just because of his tattoos? We can’t assume it’s bratva after me. We don’t know anything for certain.”
Leo regards me like a puzzle he’s trying to figure out as he runs a thumb down the centerline of his lips.
Those damn lips I thought I’d never tire of, but now they just inspire bitterness.
“Tell me,” he says thoughtfully, “have you crossed paths with anyone involved in organized crime recently? Dated someone connected? Dealt with them through business?”
I frown. “Of course not.” He knows more than anyone else how strongly I feel about living a normal life, with a normal job, and friends that don’t reach into their back waistband every time a car slows too close to the curb.
“Well then, based on the little information we have, it’s a safe assumption that whoever is after you is connected to one of the brotherhoods in Russia.
” He cocks a brow, daring me to argue with him.
“You know as well as I do that these people are dangerous. They don’t fuck around.
So until we know what’s actually going on …
” He spreads his arms wide, head tipped up to the sun, basking in the Mediterranean glory all around us.
I roll my eyes in irritation. I’m glad he thinks this is going to be a grand old holiday. “Don’t pretend you’re doing me any favors by taking me against my will, forcing me on to this yacht, and having us pose as a goddamn couple. This is a ridiculous idea even by your standards.”
He leans back in his chair, assessing me with a narrowed gaze. “And what would you suggest?”
I huff out a breath and cross my arms over my chest. “Not being stuck here with you, pretending to be your fiancée, for one.”
“You’ve made that clear. What else?”
“Fine. What about the Kozlov compound? It’s fortified as hell, surrounded by guards. Why not take me there?”
He sits back, a muscle pulsing in his cheek. “As safe as the estate is, it’ll be the first place anyone expects you to go. And if this threat is as serious as I think it is, it’ll bring unnecessary risk to Georgia and the baby.”
Oh my god, Georgia and Andrei’s baby daughter, Anya. My chest squeezes, and I suddenly feel like the shittiest human in the world. As much as I want to downplay what happened, how can I bring that danger to the door of the people I love?
“Of course I wouldn’t want to do that.” My brain spins out thinking of solutions that don’t include being trapped on a yacht with Leo. I could demand that he track down my brother and Rowan, but he’s on a remote tropical island with no cell access. Not ideal.
The heavy realization that being here is the safest bet sinks like a stone in my belly. Why him? Anyone but him.
I force down the lump in my throat. “Fine. We stay on this boat as long as it takes for you and your people to manage this threat, or whatever it is you need to do. But the moment Yulian is back in play, you hand me off to my brother.”
He raises his hands innocently. “I wouldn’t dream of making you stay in my presence a minute longer than necessary. But in the meantime, the stateroom closet is stocked with clothes that should fit you. And I did pack a few of your”—he smirks before continuing—“necessities. Top bedside drawer.”
“Seriously, you packed up my shit?”
Leo looks way too freakin’ smarmy. “Didn’t want you to go without. And don’t worry Aly, you’ll barely see me. Lots of work to keep me busy.”
I pick up the last piece of bacon and bring it to my lips, my eyes narrowing. “Good,” I say and mean it. I’ll avoid him at all costs. Just like I have for the last seven years. “And Leo, one day you’ll need to explain to me why we couldn’t pose as siblings or friends even.”
His dark, intense eyes meet mine, flashing with something I can only describe as possessiveness. “I don’t think that would be believable, do you?”
Since I can’t answer that question truthfully, I don’t answer it at all.
Instead, I throw my napkin down onto my now empty plate and give him my best steely glare.
“Just so we’re clear, there will be no physical contact between us, don’t even think of pulling any PDA shit. And obviously separate suites.”
“Obviously, except …” He shrugs. “We don’t want the yacht staff to get suspicious, so we need to keep up the illusion of a shared bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I rub my temples, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. “Who even owns this yacht?”
“I don’t know. I secured it through a rush deal organized by a third-party broker. The less information exchanged the better. But it’s ours for as long as we need it.”
Here’s to hoping it’s not long. I push away from the table and stand, exhaustion seeping into my limbs. “I need a shower and some clean clothes,” I announce.
Leo nods. “Meet me here in an hour. I’ll introduce you to the crew.”
“Great.” I don’t even bother smiling or thanking him or doing any of the things a halfway decent person may think to do. Instead, I turn and stride away, flashing a middle finger salute over my shoulder with my head held high.
Something strange happens in the shower.
I cry.
Something inside of me shatters. Like an internal dam ruptured, emotions I’ve kept tightly restrained for years pour out of me, my salty tears mixing with the shower spray.
Reality sucker punches me. The reality that I killed a man yesterday.
He deserved it, but that doesn’t make it any less horrifying that I took someone’s life.
The reality that someone dangerous is after me.
The reality that I’m stuck on this boat, pretending to be engaged to someone who once upon a time told me he did not love me back.
The gods have a shitty sense of humor.
And try as I might to fight him, to act the tough chick, I’m scared. Something I’ll never admit to Leo, but here, alone, with the water pounding down on my back and sobs heaving my chest, my fear is real.
Emerging from the shower with a towel draped around me, I survey the stateroom. Sure, it’s impressive with its rich mahogany panels and floor-to-ceiling windows, but luxury feels like a cage when you’re not there by choice.
Sitting on the bed, I slide open the bedside table drawer where Leo put my personal effects.
Shit.
He didn’t.
A vein in my head throbs. Jesus, this man is on thin ice.
Reaching into the drawer, I find my daily multivitamin, various over-the-counter meds, an e-reader, and, ugh, my birth control pills. Fine, I can live with that. It’s what comes next that turns my cheeks ten shades of red—my hand wraps around something silicone and unyielding and no. Just no.
He packed Bob … my Battery-Operated Boyfriend.
Actually, if we’re going to get technical, it’s a bright-purple rabbit vibe for extra clit stimulation.
Because that’s what I need to get off, and Leo of all people, knows that.
I bring Bob fully out of the drawer. And hot damn, there’s a sticky note attached to it.
I approve
A hot wave of humiliation washes over me, making my cheeks flush further and my fists clench. This may be his idea of a joke, but that man will pay! I don’t know how, and I don’t know when but I will find a way to get my revenge.
I storm into the stateroom’s walk-in closet and stop in my tracks.
There are rows upon rows of designer clothes, accessories, and shoes arranged neatly in their own little cubbies.
This is clearly someone’s stuff, a very wealthy woman, judging by the racks full of Chanel and Prada, displayed like trophies.
I work for a luxury clothing brand, and I even find this collection impressive if a little risqué for my tastes.
But I can’t just wear someone else’s clothes!
It’s entirely possible that Leo stole this yacht.
I’m about to put my pajamas back on when a shimmering golden bikini, hanging from one of the swimwear racks, catches my eye.
It’s Dolce & Gabbana. I’d noticed it in last month’s Vogue, and damn, it’s even more stunning up close.
The fabric glimmers and shines, catching the light in a way that calls my name.
Finally, at twenty-four, my body has grown a little more generous.
A few graceful curves have emerged. Mama always told me that one day I’d fill out and be a head turner.
A bitter laugh leaves my lips. It didn’t quite happen that way, but I’ve definitely left the gangly girl with a nothing-to-speak-of chest and braces far behind.
That girl that was hopelessly in love with her older brother’s best friend.
For reasons I don’t want to examine too closely, I want Leo to see how much I’ve changed. How much of a woman I am now. Which means, the gold bikini it is. I say a silent thank you to whoever’s wardrobe I’m raiding.
Once I’ve changed, I stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire my reflection.
The string bikini top is made from a soft, buttery fabric that feels amazing on my skin.
The cups give my small breasts a subtle lift while the bottoms have ties on either side with a cut that shows off the flare of my hips.
Satisfied with my choice, I scan the shelves for footwear. Well, hello. I settle on a pair of strappy, metallic sandals with towering heels and a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on my head.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror.
The bikini is flashier and sexier than my typical wardrobe, which tends to be all black and conservative, but screw it.
I look smokin’ hot, and I’m damn well going to make sure Leo knows it.
He might’ve forced me into close quarters with him, but that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy on him.
This is my sweet revenge, served on a shimmering gold platter.
I’ll show him exactly what he threw away.
Eat your heart out, asshole.