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

Or is that who Boris means?

Sunk in thought, I go into the main cabin and stand with my back against the door. When I was first taken captive and begged him to help me, I thought my pleas fell on deaf ears. I remember Boris’ sympathetic expression earlier when I emerged in the red dress. Like I was a lamb to the slaughter.

Just what does Damir have planned for me when it comes to Lucan Navarro?

Whatever the answer, it seems as if at least one person on this yacht has been burdened with a conscience.

Chapter Sixteen

Damir

The email I get just before breakfast is served makes me grin from ear to ear. I’m still smiling when Bethany joins me twenty minutes later. She’s wearing a clinging black maxi dress with a halter neck that shows off a great deal of her smooth skin. Boris picked up several outfits for my girl so she wouldn’t have to keep wearing my clothes, and he chose well. Her breasts look full and delicious beneath the fabric, and I can tell she’s forgone a bra. I’ll look forward to peeling that dress from her body later.

“You’re cheerful this morning,” Bethany observes, laying her linen napkin in her lap and reaching for the silver coffee pot. I get there before her and pour her out a cupful, and then add a dash of cream and a spoonful of sugar. “I thought you’d be tired. You didn’t come to bed last night.”

Missing me, was she? I missed her, as well. “I’m sorry, princesa. I was working, and then I fell asleep on the sofa in the office.”

Bethany gives a little shrug and takes a sip of her coffee.

“We’ve just received an invitation to a party at Villa de Deschamps tonight. Lucan Navarro’s home.”

Bethany pauses and looks up from her coffee, her eyes wary.

“Is anything wrong?”

“No, I’m just surprised by the invitation. And I have nothing to wear.”

I laugh, tearing a croissant in two. “That’s easily fixed. Shall we go ashore together after breakfast and find something that makes you look delectable?” I let my eyes travel down over her body. “Or should I say, even more delectable.”

“Oh, shut up.” Bethany mutters, but there’s a small smile on her lips. “I can be trusted in stores, then?”

I reach out and brush my fingers over the back of her hand. “I think you’ve earned it. You played your part beautifully last night, and were instrumental in getting us this invitation. Pridna punka.”

Her cheeks color a little and she focuses on a bowl of cut fruit.

“Though I would prefer you didn’t try to eviscerate me with you nails when I prompt you to play along.”

“You should have told me I was pretending to be your fiancée. I don’t like surprises.”

I smile lazily at her. “Who says you’re not my fiancée?”

I rather like the sound of Mrs. Bethany Ravnikar. It has a lovely ring to it.

“I do. Now, listen. I’ve been thinking about last night. Navarro must know you killed his son. A suicide note won’t have convinced anyone after you went to town on his body. I suppose you wrote the note?”

I lean back in my chair, watching her with pleasure. My captive princess has been putting her mind to good use for me. An unexpected partner in crime.

“Of course I wrote it, and it was a masterpiece of sorrow. And don’t worry about his body, because it was never found. My men encased him in concrete on one of our building sites, and then I drove Georgios’ car to Beachy Head.”

Beachy Head is a notorious suicide spot atop the white cliffs of the south coast. The police never found anything at the bottom of the cliffs, but it was easy for them to deduce what I wanted them to. He was swept out to sea without a trace. “I left the suicide note in the glove box.”

Bethany wrinkles her nose. “So he actually rests in an unmarked grave on a building site. What a grisly end.”

I spread my hands and smile. “If it was good enough for my father. Of course, I didn’t have Boris and the others to help me with father, but Mikhail did his half of the work admirably.”

“I wish you’d stop doing that.”

“What, my princesa?”