“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Nate slipped his arm around her waist and led her along the deck. They rounded a corner to discover a large, kidney-shaped pool. Lounge chairs were scattered sporadically about, mostly unoccupied, save for a handful of souls willing to brave the cool morning air. At the far end of the deck, an older couple sat with their feet dangling in the whirlpool.
“Nathaniel.” The man waved, gesturing Nate and Eliza over with a friendly greeting.
“That’s Mr. William Daube, one of the partners, and his wife, Edith.” Nate whispered as he and Eliza wound their way around the chairs. They sauntered toward a short, stout man and his corpulent wife, her blinding jewelry sparkled as she kicked her feet in the water. “He and my father built the firm together. They met at university, roommates as it were. My father introduced him to Edith at a party; they’ve been married over thirty years. We grew up with their children, spent a lot of time together as kids.”
“So, he’s family?”
“Thus, my father’s predicament. He considers all the partners to be family.” Nate muttered out the side of his mouth, barely moving his lips. “And one these men is a murderer.”
“Mr. Daube.” Nate greeted the older man with a formal handshake and then dropped a respectful kiss on his wife’s hand. “Mrs. Daube. It is wonderful to see you again. It’s been a long time.” Nate eased Eliza forward, his arm still possessively wrapped around her. “Allow me to introduce one of our charity volunteers. This is Eliza.”
“Eliza, it’s lovely to meet you.” Mrs. Daube beamed and ripped Eliza from Nate’s grasp, smothering her in a hearty, heavily perfumed embrace. “I am so happy to hear you’re participating in this event. It’s a wonderful foundation.”
“Yes, Eliza,” Mr. Daube smiled, lifting Eliza’s hand and kissing the back of it. “I’m grateful to anyone who donates to such a worthy cause.”
“And to think this whole event was started by the death of Everett’s wife.” Mrs. Daube sniffed, dabbing a thick fingertip at the corner of each eye. “Such a sweet girl and to die so young.”
“Clarissa and Everett were high school sweethearts.” Nate leaned over and spoke in a hushed tone. “Shortly after they married, she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. She began this charity to raise funds for heart transplant research. The first year, she raised over one hundred thousand dollars.”
“That’s incredible!” exclaimed Eliza.
“Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to save Clarissa’s life.” Mrs. Daube sniffed again and turned away, swallowing a sob.
“Everett continued the auction after her death, vowing to continue her work. He created the foundation.” Nate reached into his coat and retrieved a white handkerchief, which he subtly passed to Mrs. Daube. “The next year, he doubled the amount raised.”
“And he’s been doing an excellent job since then.” Mr. Daube broke up the melancholy cloud settling over them with his boisterous voice. “I was just telling William, the other day, how proud I am of Everett for his work. Wasn’t I, dear?” He placed a kind hand on her shoulder.
“Yes.” She sniffed one last time and pasted a large smile on her lips. “Would the two of you like to join us in a little mid-morning soak?”
“No, thank you for the offer, perhaps another time.” Nate accepted his handkerchief back from Mrs. Daube and tucked it back into his pocket. “I’d like to continue giving Eliza a tour of this beautiful craft.” He nodded to each of them, and Eliza mirrored his action.
“Of course.” Mrs. Daube smiled. “Enjoy yourselves, we’ll see you at lunch. Lovely to meet you, Eliza.” She waved as Nate dragged Eliza away, nearly yanking her arm off as they rounded the next corner.
“She’s a kind woman, but she’ll talk you to death.” Nate slowed their pace once the Daubes were out of sight. He casually slipped his arm back around Eliza’s waist. “Ready to meet some more people?”
Eliza nodded. “Partner number one is Mr. Daube; he’s your father’s oldest friend and an honorary uncle.”
“Correct.”
“How many partners are in your father’s firm?”
“There are two other partners: Mr. Stewart and Mr. Brevin. Mason Stewart is on his third wife; Vickie, I think. He has a bit of a wandering hand.”
“Don’t you mean eye.”
“No, I mean hand. Watch out for him—he likes to pinch.” Nate’s hand inched below her waistband, cupping her butt gently and squeezing.
She yelped. “Thanks for the warning.”
Nate smirked. As they strolled, Nate called out a greeting to two ladies promenading in the opposite direction. “Those are the Monroe sisters. Anna, on the left, married one of the junior partners, John Thompson. Teresa never married. She works at the firm as a paralegal.” He addressed every person they passed, muttering names and backstory under his breath.
“I’m never going to remember all these people.” Eliza admitted apprehensively as they neared the bow.
“It gets easier. I’m probably overloading you with information. Let’s just stick with the important ones.”
“Okay.” Eliza exhaled a sigh of relief. “Tell me about the final partner.”
“Joseph Brevin, my uncle and my mother’s brother, is the third partner. His wife left him several years ago, ran off with her tennis instructor and left him a note.”
“How cliché,” murmured Eliza.
Nate smirked. “He never remarried, but he has a steady girlfriend, Jane Oliver. They’ve been together so long, they should get married, but I think he enjoys being a stubborn, old man.”
Eliza snickered.
“About four years ago, Joe had an accident horseback riding; the horse spooked and bucked him. He landed on a boulder, injuring his spine and breaking a leg. He’s been confined to a wheelchair ever since.”
“Isn’t that dangerous to have a wheelchair on a ship? I mean, couldn’t he slide right off the side of the boat?”
“Unless the stubborn old man can swim.” A gruff voice reverberated behind them. Nate and Eliza spun, wearing twin sheepish expressions.
“Uncle Joe.” Nate snapped upright, greeting his uncle with a respectful salute. “I’m so glad you could make the event this year.”
“I sincerely doubt that, Nathaniel.” His uncle snorted. “You always were a terrible liar.”
“Part of my charm.” Nate broke his statuesque posture and flung his arms around his uncle’s shoulders. His uncle laughed, clapping Nate on the back.
“It sure is.” He glanced up at Eliza. “Since my nephew has completely forgotten his manners, I’d like to introduce myself. Joseph Brevin. However, most folks just call me Joe.”
“Joe, it’s lovely to meet you.” Eliza extended her hand. “My name is Eliza Quinn.”
Joe released Nate, shoving him to the side as he yanked Eliza to him. She fell across his lap, surprised by his strength. “I knew your parents.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her, overwhelming Eliza with the scent of cigars. “A terrible tragedy, what happened to them.”
“Thank you,” replied Eliza, attempting to extract herself from his iron embrace. She pushed off the arms of the wheelchair. Just as her feet touched the deck, Joe’s hand locked onto her wrist and tightened until she winced.
“You are in extreme danger, you can’t trust anyone aboard this ship.” He hissed, glancing to the left and right. “Not one person, do you understand me? Except Nathaniel; do not leave his side.” Joe released her, nodded tersely to Nate, and rolled away without another word.
Eliza’s stomach clenched, icy fear racing through her veins. She glanced at Nate, wondering why both Joe and Mr. Maldove were adamant she remained with him. “What are you, Special Forces or something?”
“Or something.” Nate placed a strong hand on the center of her back. “I think perhaps we should return you to your room. We’ve been seen by enough people to start the rumor mill.”
The path they took to return to Eliza’s stateroom differed from their original route. Nate cranked open a metal door, leading Eliza down a set of steep metal stairs. The temperature rose as they descended. Wandering through the bowels of the ship, they passed by the ship’s pristine machine room. Crew members rushed about, checking dials and twisting knobs. Nate acknowledged each employee by their proper name, pausing to speak with them about their families or hobbies. He introduced Eliza to every crew member.
“Do you know everyone aboard this ship?” asked Eliza in astonishment as they exited the galley.
“Yes.” Nate answered, his voice lacking any pretention. “It’s important to know the people you work with, even if they’re in the background. Plus, it really helps to be on good terms with the cook.” He winked. “In case we need a midnight snack.”
“After midnight, I’ll no longer belong to you.”
“That point is open to negotiation.”
“Is it?”
“Oh, yes. Quite open.”
They reached a metal ladder, identical to the stairs they had descended. Eliza grabbed onto the railings with both hands, hauling herself up the rungs. They popped out in a hallway and made a quick pivot, traveling down the nearest corridor to their right. The golden ‘Maldove’ plaque appeared, flashing invitingly.
“Wow!” Eliza twisted around, staring at the opening behind her. “I’m never going to remember that.”
“I’ll be there to guide you.” Nate lifted her hand and lightly brushed his lips over her skin. She shivered. “You need to change clothes.” His eyes glowed hungrily as they traveled slowly down her body. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Perhaps you should check the room, to ensure its safe.” Eliza’s eyes flicked nervously toward the room. “A lot of people met me this morning.”
“I think that’s a wise suggestion.” Nate slipped his hand around Eliza’s and led her down the short hallway.
They entered together, leaving the door propped open. Eliza waited in the doorway while Nate quickly investigated the room. Satisfied, he gestured for her to enter. “Once I leave, I want you to lock this door until I return to collect you. It won’t be more than a half hour. I need to shower and change as well.” He gestured at the wall to his right. “My room is next door, if you need anything, rap three times.”
He left before Eliza could speak, shutting the door. “Lock it.” His firm voice commanded through the door.
As instructed, Eliza twisted the lock. The light breeze snuck in through the open balcony doors. She debated closing and locking them as well, but decided she would feel more like a prisoner than a guest. The nervous energy coursing through her had her pacing small circles in the room. She needed a shower.
Entering the bathroom, she opened the beveled glass door and twisted the knobs in a deceivingly large shower, which appeared much smaller from the outside. Instantly, hot water sprayed from the nozzle. She stripped, leaving a pile of clothing on the tile floor. Climbing into the shower, she sighed as the scalding water beat against her tense muscles. Her anxious mind churning over the possible outcomes of Mr. Maldove’s plan.
Was it really going to be over soon? She had spent years looking over her shoulder, jumping at shadows. What would she do after this? Where would she go? Nate had said their arrangement was open to negotiation. What if she stayed longer? Would he want her to? And, damn! That stupid grin was back on her face; she could feel it breaking her cheeks.
“Stupid emotions.” She muttered aloud, shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower. Drying her skin, she wrapped the lush cotton towel nearly twice around herself. Padding into the other room, she stared at the closet, her teeth worrying her lower lip. She had no idea what to wear for this event. A knock at the door interrupted her contemplation.
“Eliza, its Nate.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and raced to the door, flinging it open. “I have a problem.”
“First, wow. Second, always check before opening the door. Third, wow.” Nate entered wearing a three-piece suit, no tie. His eyes sparkled appreciatively. “Not the outfit I would have chosen, but you’ll definitely raise the most money.”
“I’m not sure what to wear.” Eliza gestured helplessly at the closet and flushed with embarrassment.
“Well, first we have to get rid of the towel.” Nate spun around and locked the door.
Eliza dropped the towel while Nate’s back was to her. “Done.”
Turning, Nate’s jaw dropped. “Eliza—" he choked “—we’ll be late.”
“Okay.” Eliza shrugged, miffed by his rejection. She bent to retrieve the towel.
Lunging across the room, Nate lifted her from the floor, backing her against a wall. His mouth attacked her lips, stealing her breath.
“What about meeting your father for lunch?” She managed to ask after they broke apart.
“I don’t care.” He growled against her mouth, his hard length pressed intimately into her.
Eliza slid her hands up his chest, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. It fell to the plush carpet, landing on top of the soggy towel. The holster, he shimmied down his arms and placed on a nearby glass coffee table. Lifting her, he pinned her against the wall, his mouth seeking hers. Urgently, his tongue pushed between her lips, stroking, demanding, until she panted against him, gasping for air.
Whirling around, Nate crossed the room in three steps, dropping them gently onto the bed. His hands wandered up her damp skin, scattering goosebumps across her naked flesh. She moaned against his mouth, sliding her fingers through his hair. Grasping the back of his head, she ground her body against his erection.
Slipping one hand between them, he unbuttoned his pants, yanking the zipper to free himself. He wiggled his pants over his hips, pushing Eliza’s legs further apart. With a groan, he sheathed himself completely in her center. Pausing, his mouth nibbled a path over her collarbone, descending at a maddeningly slow pace toward her breast. His tongue circled her nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth. Eliza moaned, frustration in her fingers as they dug into his shoulders.
“Please, Nate.” She begged him shamelessly, trembling with need.
“One day will not be enough.” He gazed down at her a moment, his cobalt eyes blazing. “I find you too addicting.” He buried his nose in her hair, loose and tangled across the pillow. “Stay with me.”
Eliza’s head rolled to the side, exposing her neck to Nate’s soft lips which continued kissing a seductive trail along her jawline. She raised her hips against him, grinding impatiently. “I’ll consider postponing reality for a few more days.”
“I can be quite persuasive.” His teeth closed around the exposed bud of her nipple. He tugged, his tongue darting across the sensitive tip. Eliza cried out, bowing off the bed.
He withdrew quickly, slamming into her again, beginning an unforgiving rhythm of blissful torture. His tongue and teeth teased her nipple as she writhed uncontrollably on the bed. She grabbed his hips, rocking herself into his thrust. Nate moaned, increasing his tempo, fire burning behind his eyes.
Passion coursed through Eliza’s veins, bubbling and boiling, until she felt as though she would burst. Her knees trembled as she exploded, her voice an unrecognizable torrent of pleasure as she quivered on the bed. Nate drove himself into her again, sinking deeply on his final thrust, reaching his own apex. His voice drowned out hers as he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily.
After a moment, he rolled to his side. “Sorry, I’m crushing you.”
“It was kind of comforting.”
“Alright.” Nate laughed and flung his legs back over Eliza’s waist.
“Hey.” She shoved his legs off her stomach.
Nate’s phone vibrated. With a sigh, he climbed from the bed and retrieved it from the pocket of his discarded coat. His eyes rapidly scanned the message. He glanced up at Eliza with an odd expression.
“It’s from my father. They caught Mr. Stewart trying to rig the auction so he could win you. I’m not sure how he learned you were on the ship, since we didn’t bump into him during our promenade.” Nate dressed swiftly, his muffled voice lost in his shirt. “Father is holding him for questioning in the Captain’s quarters. Stay here. Put the light purple dress on and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed Eliza lightly on the forehead and disappeared out the door.
Eliza stared unblinkingly at the door. Was it really over? Was she finally safe?