Eliza hummed as she dressed, an unfamiliar, buoyant feeling coursing through her body. Mr. Maldove had captured the man responsible for the death of her parents. Now she just had to make it through a fancy luncheon—and dinner—and turn over the evidence to Mr. Maldove. A small grimace crept onto her lips. Guilt. She had lied about the photographs, she knew where they were hidden. One final precaution, a result of living on her own for so long.
She zipped up the side of the dress, admiring the way it fitted her torso, highlighting her curves with its dramatic lines. Pivoting in front of the mirror, she watched the dress twirl, a delicate swirl of iridescent lavender.
“Could you live in this world?” She asked the question aloud, staring at her reflection. Selecting a brush from the bag of complimentary toiletries left in the suite, she pulled it through her damp hair. The bristles scratched comfortingly against her scalp. A light knock, centered in the middle of the door, startled her.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Just Joe.” The ancient voice grunted his greeting. “Nathaniel sent me to check on you. He said he’d be a bit longer with the interrogation.”
“Oh, well that was kind of him. I’m fine, thank you for asking,” replied Eliza.
“Perhaps, you might open the door. I need to ensure your wellbeing instead of just taking your word for it. Safety measure, I’m sure you understand. Nathaniel gave me specific instructions to physically put my hand on your arm.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Eliza unlatched the lock and opened the door a crack. She peered around the edge. “Is Nate concerned Mr. Stewart had an accomplice?”
“Yes and no. Mrs. Stewart has gone missing.” Joe paused, glancing at the empty corridor behind him. “I really shouldn’t be speaking about this delicate matter in public.”
“Of course.” Eliza pulled the door open wider. “Please come in.”
“Would you help me over the threshold?” He asked, sheepishly gesturing at the floor. “I have trouble with the raised frame.”
“Certainly.” Eliza darted into the hallway, grabbing ahold of the wheelchair handles. She shoved forward. The wheels caught momentarily before bouncing over the doorjamb. Joe careened sideways, using his gloved hands to right the chair before it tipped.
“I’m so sorry.” Eliza rushed to his side.
“No trouble.” Joe waved a hand. “You just don’t know your own strength.”
“No, you’re wrong there.” Eliza laughed. “I’ve spent the last three years of my life hiding from Mr. Stewart. That’s not strength.”
“Survival is strength.” Joe’s eyes flared a moment. “I’d love a cup of coffee, if you don’t mind. There’s a machine on the counter. All you have to do is push that little red button. And I wouldn’t mind the company either.” He winked.
Finding the petite coffee maker exactly as Joe described, Eliza depressed the red button. The machine sprang to life, percolating and bubbling. The delightful aroma of roasted coffee filled the room.
“Mmm, I love that smell.” She sighed and filled two mugs with the steaming hot liquid.
“More than the ocean?”
“Well, it’s a toss-up.” His statement pricked her subconscious, and she glanced at him with a puzzled expression. “How did you know I loved the smell of the ocean?”
“Slip of the tongue.” He acknowledged his error with a sneer and extracted a small pistol from his coat pocket. “I had hoped to build your trust a bit more before springing this unpleasantness on you, but we only have a short window of time before Nathaniel discovers I framed Mason this morning.” He aimed the barrel at Eliza’s chest. “Where are the photographs?”
“What photographs?”
Joe casually flicked his arm to the right, shooting a bullet through the coffee maker. It shattered, scattering fragments of glass across the marble countertop. “I will only ask you one more time.”
Eliza’s eyes flicked toward the open door. Did someone hear the shot? Joe followed her movement with interest.
“Close the door.” His cold instructions sent a block of ice sliding down Eliza’s back. He watched her with narrowed eyes as she moved toward the door. “And in case you are thinking of running or calling out for help—” He paused and reached down to lock both wheels of the chair with his free hand. Placing each foot carefully on the floor, he rose and stepped away from the wheelchair. “Surprise.”
Eliza gasped. “You can walk?”
“No one would suspect poor disabled Uncle Joe of committing such horrendous crimes.” He took one step closer. “Lock it.” He growled menacingly, gesturing at the door with the pistol.
Complying, Eliza twisted the lock and turned to face Joe.
Lunging forward, he slammed the butt of the gun down on Eliza’s forehead. She groaned and crumpled to the floor. Her vision fuzzy, she rolled back and forth, pressing her hands to the aching knot on her head.
Joe laughed. He drew back his leg and kicked her in the ribs. She screamed in agony, curling into a ball and clutching her side. Joe’s foot swung again, connecting with her chin. Her head snapped back, and stars popped behind her eyes.
Kneeling next to her, Joe wove his fingers through her hair, yanked her head off the floor, and slapped her hard. Ripping her head further back, Joe shoved the muzzle into her mouth.
“Now.” His cruel voice whispered in her ear. “Where are the photographs?”
“Mmph a aff.” A tear streamed down Eliza’s cheek.
Joe extracted the gun, a dark smirk on his lips. “Repeat that please.”
“In a safe.” A second tear dripped from her eye.
“I’m curious to learn how you discovered the location of the photographs.” He stroked a thumb down her face. “Did your sweet mommy tell you?”
“They were taped to the underside of the cupboard I hid in, the day you murdered my parents.” Eliza spat the last phrase.
“Ah, so that’s where you concealed yourself.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I spent hours searching that house after your mother’s body was removed. When I realized you were the only one who could have those pictures, I knew I needed to locate you before my ignorant brother-in-law.” His hand snapped out, cracking Eliza across her cheek again. “Where’s the safe?”
“In Nate’s bedroom at Mr. Maldove’s house.” Eliza whimpered.
“Hmm. Inconvenient, but no matter.” He studied her a moment. “I’m surprised you trusted them. As well as you covered your tracks, that’s an unusual slip-up. Unless you didn’t reveal what you concealed in the safe.”
Eliza’s gaze fell to the carpet. Drops of blood stained the intricate eggshell pattern. “Nate thinks I just put money in his safe.”
“Such a shame.” He shook his head, pointing the gun at her heart. “Since I no longer need you, I fear we must say goodbye, sweet Eliza. Give my regards to your parents.”
Pounding vibrated through the room, and Joe’s head whipped up.
“Eliza!” yelled Nate, beating on the door.
“Look out!” Eliza screamed as Joe squeezed the trigger. A bullet flew through the door.
“Shut up.” Joe kicked Eliza again, his toe digging into her rib cage with an audible crack, and she howled in anguish.
“Now!” A deep voice bellowed from the corridor. The door exploded inward, splitting in half, as Everett and Nate burst into the room. Pieces of wood rained down on Eliza.
With a snakelike movement, Joe snatched Eliza from the floor by her hair, positioning her body in front of him as a shield. He dragged her backward into the center of the room, his arm wrapped tightly across her neck, cutting into her windpipe. The gun barrel painfully gouged her temple.
“Hello, boys.” Joe sneered. “Why don’t you toss over those guns?”
Nate reached into his coat, removing the weapon, and placing it on the floor. He kicked it toward Joe. Everett repeated the same movement, a simultaneous dance of disarmament.
“Hands in the air, or I shoot her through the head.”
“Easy, Uncle.” Nate raised his arms slowly. “Just let her go, we can talk about this.”
Joe chuckled, the same maniacal laughter which haunted Eliza’s dreams. “There’s nothing to talk about, Nathaniel. Eliza and I are going to take a little trip to retrieve some old photographs. Pictures which are currently hidden in your safe.” He snickered at Nate’s obvious surprise.
Nate’s eyes slid to Eliza. His head tilted to the side, a hurt expression flashed across his face, like a dark cloud passing in front of the sun. “You didn’t trust me?”
“It was for your protection.” Eliza stared at Nate, willing him to understand why she chose to conceal the truth. “Anyone who sees those photographs ends up dead.”
A cold veil fell over his eyes. “You lied to me.”
“Can you both discuss this later?” Everett gestured to Joe with his raised hands. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”
“Thank you, Everett.” Joe’s cruel glare landed on Nate, whose fingers twitched with irritation. “Now, if you would excuse us, Eliza and I have an important matter to attend.”
“We can’t allow you to leave the ship,” stated Everett, his voice eerily calm.
“Which one of you will stop me?” Joe tightened his grip on Eliza. She choked, clawing at his fingers as they squeezed, preventing the oxygen from reaching her brain. Her knees buckled. Blackness crept into her vision.
With a screech, Joe’s hand disappeared from Eliza’s neck, his nails brutally gouging her skin. Her lungs filled with oxygen again. Dizzy, she collapsed, falling forward into Nate’s outstretched arms. He clutched her to his chest, gently stroking his hand over her hair.
A gurgling sound escaped from Joe’s lips. Eliza twisted fearfully in Nate’s embrace. Behind her, Frankie straddled Joe, now supine on the carpet. She perched on his chest, her knees pinning his forearms to the ground. A ghastly sneer danced on her lips as she wielded a rust-colored knife; blood spurted from a large gash in Joe’s throat. His eyes bulged and glazed over, the final dregs of life ebbing from his body.
“How did you do that?” exclaimed Eliza. She stared at her in astonishment as Frankie rose gracefully.
“I scaled the balcony.” She replied simply, as though it were a common occurrence, and leaned over to wipe the knife blade on Joe’s shirt.
“Frankie works for my father, as Sabrina’s bodyguard,” said Nate. His hands lightly stroked over Eliza’s face; she winced as he brushed over the bruise on her cheek.
“I thought she and Sabrina were…”
“Lovers?” interrupted Frankie.
Eliza blushed and nodded.
“I may have mixed business with pleasure.”
“However, that doesn’t make Frankie any less talented at her job,” announced Mr. Maldove from the doorway. “Ah, Joe.” He shook his head as his eyes fell on Joe’s motionless body. “I was afraid it would be you.”
Mr. Maldove’s solemn gaze rose to Eliza. “You won’t ever have to fear him again.”
She nodded, extracting herself from Nate’s arms, and approached Mr. Maldove. “I have the photographs.” Eliza glanced down, sinking her teeth into her lip. “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you, so, I tricked Nate into hiding them in his safe, but I want you to have them, Mr. Maldove.”
“Please, call me Colin.” He grasped Eliza’s hands tightly, lifting them to his lips. “Thank you for your bravery. Your parents would be extremely proud of you. I hope you’ll consider extending your stay with us. There are some important financial matters I need to discuss with you, including the distribution of your parents’ will.”
“Will?” Eliza asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father invested quite a generous sum of money in the firm. Your share was due to you upon verification of your parents’ demise.”
“What are you saying?” Eliza swallowed, the roar of the ocean rushing in her ears.
“Well, you’ll never have to wait tables again.” His eyes flicked over the body in the center of the floor and rose to his oldest son. “Everett.”
“I’ll take care of it,” replied Everett with a nod, vanishing out the door.
“Frankie.”
“Yes, Sir.” She saluted Mr. Maldove and disappeared after Everett.
“Eliza, I expect staying in this room after all this”—he paused, searching for the word—“excitement, would be a bit distressing for you. May I suggest moving your clothing into the room next door?”
“But isn’t that Nate’s room?” asked Eliza, her head whipping to Nate.
“Is it?” Mr. Maldove raised an innocent eyebrow and withdrew from the room.
“You don’t have to stay with me.” Nate’s quiet tone held no emotion. He scooped her clothing from the closet in one sweeping motion and stepped into the hallway. Unlocking his door, he bumped it open with his hip and glanced over his shoulder. “I have no problem switching rooms.”
Eliza trailed behind him, allowing the door to click shut. “And if I need you, I can just knock three times on the wall?”
“Yes.”
Eliza walked over to the shared wall and slowly raised her fist. Deliberately, she knocked on the wall. Once… twice… three times. She locked eyes with him. “I feel safer with you.”
“Does that mean you’re planning to stick around?”
“Indefinitely.” She smiled and winced. Her fingers gently probed the bruise blossoming on her cheek. “Nate, do you think Sabrina would mind if I bowed out of the auction? In the state I’m in, I doubt anyone would pay to spend time with me.”
Nate wrapped her in his arms, his lips brushing along the edges of the contusion. “You are under no obligation to participate, especially after the ordeal you just faced.”
“Thank you.” Eliza sighed, leaning into his embrace.
“However, I will be heartbroken to miss out on a date with someone as lovely as you, especially since I promised you a day of meaningless sex.”
Eliza flushed, her mind flashed back to the memory of Nate, thrusting himself into her again and again. Her stomach clenched, heat rising in her cheeks.
“What are you thinking about?” Nate’s lips inched dangerously close to her earlobe.
“My dress is ruined.”
“Well, I suppose we should remove it then.” He licked his lips, wolfishly. “I think you should also decline my father’s request to join him for lunch.”
“Why?” asked Eliza. Her stomach flipped over, anticipation bubbling in her veins.
“You’re going to be otherwise occupied for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“However long you let me.”
“And after we dock?”
“You are free to leave whenever you wish. However, I hope I’ve persuaded you otherwise.”
A wicked grin pulled at Eliza’s mouth. “I might need some more convincing.”
Nate laughed. “You know, from the moment you threw me off my bed—”
“Hey, I didn’t throw you,” protested Eliza.
“Fine,” Nate acquiesced. “From the moment you hijacked my bed, I’ve been drawn to you, needed to be near you, to touch you. You’ve transformed me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not even sure what to call that.”
“Love at first sight?” suggested Eliza.
“Possibly,” agreed Nate. “Does that mean we live happily ever after?”
“I believe so,” smiled Eliza, pressing her lips to his mouth.
The End
Thank you for reading Harbor of Secrets. If you enjoyed the spicy love story of Eliza and Nate, please consider leaving a review wherever you purchased the story, it really does make a difference. If you are interested in hearing about new releases, behind-the-scenes author secrets, sales, and giveaways, sign up for my newsletter. Now, I invite you to continue the adventure with a preview of the first spicy romantic suspense story in the Damsels Defeating Distress series, FORTRESS OF DESIRE.
♥Alyssa