Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing)

I push back from the railing with a snarl. Where would he go? The world suddenly feels too large. It’s impossible to scour every square inch so I need to narrow it down. But how?

The sun dips down over the horizon, turning the sky shades of lightest gold and deepest purple. I want Bethany up here with me, but she needs to learn devotion. Obedience. I crave to touch her, possess her, punish her and forgive her, over and over again. There’s a scared little girl under that brash exterior. She’s terrified of what she wants, and that’s not surprizing, because what she wants is me.

I wonder if she’s been putting up with terrible, unfulfilling sex and faking it with her partners. Maybe she’s avoided sex entirely, and I’ll be the first one to see the scared yet trusting expression in her eyes as I penetrate her delectable little pussy. I smile to myself. I can’t wait to discover the truth. I’ll feel it for myself soon enough.

“Boss?”

I look up at Boris, my smile fading. Mikhail. Ciara. I have to think about them, not Bethany. I’ve got funds. Interpol wasn’t able to freeze the accounts that they didn’t know about. What I don’t have is a plan. I need information. In the old days, father would always go to Lucan Navarro, the great, greedy spider of the French Riviera, but that all changed when his son Georgios—

Now, there’s a thought. Navarro may have heard something about Mikhail and his whereabouts via his silken threads that stretch across Europe and further afield. Last I heard he was still running his illegal casino in Monte Carlo.

Just thinking about that man makes my blood heat with anger. I still owe him for what he did to Nataša. I took his son from him, but it’s not enough. I want to take everything else, too.

I chuckle to myself. This is becoming quite the little Grand Tour of Revenge. How energized I feel. How refreshed. I should thank Mikhail before I kill him. I was growing stagnant in London but now I have a whole new lease on life.

I turn to Boris. “How soon can we be in Monte Carlo?”

“Monaco? Midday tomorrow, if we take the most direct route. But why—”

Close to the coast of Southern Europe, he means, along with every other sea craft and police vessel. “Stay off the main course for as long as possible. I don’t care if it takes a day or two longer to get there.”

That will keep us away from any coast patrols and give me the time I need to bring Bethany to heel. The plan that’s seeding in my mind is going to require her help. I picture her in Monte Carlo in a floor-length gown, bedecked in jewels. At last she’ll have a taste of the life she deserves. The life that I can give her, where nothing is fake. Not the jewels, and not the orgasms, either.

Boris departs to plot our new course, and I go to the dining room to eat with the men. Andreja has taken over the galley and is outdoing himself with the meals. Domen is captaining. Alenko is assisting. Solid, Slovenian men, ones I know I can count on.

For the rest of the evening I Google myself, though not out of vanity. In fact, the longer I read the more furious I become. My name and picture are plastered all over the British press, in connection with a missing CEO, a restaurant chain with an embezzling financial director and a luxury hotel implicated in money laundering and insider trading. Mikhail thinks he knows so much, but he knows nothing. The missing CEO isn’t dead. He’s currently hiding out in Vanuatu avoiding a major tax fraud scandal. The embezzlement hasn’t got anything to do with me. I knew about it, but I’m not my clients’ fucking babysitters. The money laundering and insider trading…all right. Mea culpa. I did participate in several high-stakes poker games, and there were business tips exchanged. I didn’t lose sleep over it, but if I’m caught, that night alone will be enough to send me away for an uncomfortable chunk of time.

If the police catch me and connect me to Georgios’ death and Mikhail tells the police where our father’s body is buried, I’ll never see the light of day again. That really makes my blood boil. I killed the bastard, yes, but that was to protect Mikhail. I saved my brother. By killing Georgios, I avenged Nataša.

But will he be grateful? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

Chapter Nine

Bethany

He left you behind and he’s not going to find you. You’re going nowhere.

I sit up with a gasp, and my red raw wrist pulls painfully on the metal handcuff. Damir is haunting my dreams. I glance at the window and see that there’s a pale glow around the edges of the curtains. It’s morning.

Counting the day I was passed out, and yesterday with the visit from Damir, this is my third day on the yacht. I wonder how fast yachts travel, and how far we could be from Britain. I wonder if anyone’s even noticed I’m gone.

I lie there for a while, busting for the toilet. There’s the sound of a key turning in a lock. A stranger stands in the open doorway, a man wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair in a ponytail. He’s about thirty, younger than Damir but just as dangerous looking. I’m conscious that under my skirt I’m naked, and I tuck my legs tightly beneath me.

The man seems completely uninterested in me. He comes in, carrying a tray. I catch the scent of food. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten and my stomach growls.

He puts the tray on my bedside table and leans across me to unlock my wrists. “Use the bathroom.”

I hurry to do so, and I drink from the tap again. When I come back the man is ready with the cuffs, and I have no choice but to let him fasten me one-handed to the bed again.

“You work for Damir, I suppose.” I say, hating him for his obvious indifference to a kidnap victim. “How much is he paying you to ignore the fact he’s breaking all these laws?”

He doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken, and turns to head out.

“I’m here against my will!” I shout at the closing door. The lock snicks, and the man’s footsteps retreat.

I wonder if Damir will visit me today. I wonder if what he does to me will be worse than yesterday. Unless I escape, I can only imagine his treatment of me will become even more sordid.

I sit up and turn to the bedside table. The tray contains a turkey sandwich with Swiss cheese, cranberry jelly and lettuce on rye on a paper plate, and white coffee in a paper cup.