They picked their way out of the room, then Fiona grabbed an outfit off the bed. She sent a text as she led Piper across the hall to Alex’s room. She didn’t bother knocking.

  Piper was so busy wondering for the first time why Alex and Fiona had completely separate suites, not even adjoining, that she didn’t notice that she and Fiona had completely interrupted some kind of argument that was happening between Alex and his best man. She couldn’t remember the guy’s name.

  “It has to get done,” Alex was saying, his voice sharp. “You know this. It has to be done before we get back—”

  “I’m working on it,” the other man—Chris, that was it—said. “I told you; I have this handled.”

  “I’m starting to think this is why your services were such cut-throat prices.” Alex started laughing. “Cutthroat, that’s pretty great.”

  Fiona cleared her throat, and both of the men spun towards her. They flashed bright grins so shiny that they could have modeled for toothpaste commercials.

  “Hi, honey,” Alex said, but there was no emotion in his voice—happy or otherwise. “I didn’t realize you’d come over tonight.”

  That was the weirdest thing Piper had ever heard. Even Damian wouldn’t have greeted her like that; Piper was sure of it.

  “We need to use your bathroom,” Fiona said, her voice cold. “Mine is being cleaned.”

  “Of course. Chris is just leaving.” Alex gave his “best man” a glare and jerked his head towards the door.

  Chris scowled but nodded and left, pushing past Fiona—not entirely gently.

  Fiona’s expression darkened more, but Piper felt her own attention narrowing; she was starting to think she was going to be sick again.

  “Fi…” she said quietly, trying to control her rebellious stomach.

  “This way,” Fiona said, taking Piper’s hand and leading her through the suite. It was a bit silly; the suite was laid out like Fiona’s except in reverse. “We’ll need some privacy,” she added, but she didn’t bother looking in Alex’s direction as she said it.

  He made a huffing noise, and Piper heard the suite door close again—but by then, she was running again. At least this time she made it to the toilet. Fiona held her hair back. There wasn’t anything in her stomach that could come up, but that didn’t stop her body from trying to get rid of everything it could.

  When the heaving stopped, she sagged against the side of the tub. Fiona was sitting up on the vanity now, watching her friend with a sad sort of concern.

  “Sorry,” Piper managed. “Just let me get cleaned up, and I’ll get out of your way. I must have eaten something bad. I don’t want you to have to take care of me.”

  “Please don’t,” Fiona said, glancing out the door at her new husband’s suite. “At least, not until I can get back into my room. I don’t... want to be here by myself.”

  It seemed like a strange request, but then, nothing about the last three or so weeks had been normal. Piper was pretty sure her stomach was as settled as it was going to be—at least for the moment.

  She stood up slowly and started stripping off her clothes. She had stopped worrying about being naked in front of Fiona somewhere around the time the other woman had started grabbing Piper and spinning her like a doll to see how various things would fit on her. They were like sisters or best friends.

  Piper felt a small twinge of regret, thinking of Marissa. She had no idea what was happening at home. Marissa had no idea what had happened. After all, it wasn’t like Todd was going to stop by and say “Hey, kidnapped your best friend and sent her off with a murderer, she’ll be back if he doesn’t rape her to death.”

  Piper could wash her hands and face, but her hair was disgusting. There wasn’t going to be anything for that but to have a shower.

  “Do you mind?” she asked, gesturing towards the shower stall.

  “Of course not,” Fiona said. “Did you notice your bra doesn’t fit anymore?”

  Piper blinked hard and glanced down. She hadn’t noticed, not really, though she’d noticed that when Damian twisted or sucked her nipples, they ached more than before. She had thought it was just arousal. But when she looked down…

  Yeah, my boobs are definitely spilling out of the cups.

  Not enough to look awful, but definitely enough to look like she was, well, a porn star.

  “I... hadn’t. Huh.” Piper thought for a second. Her pants still fit, so she didn’t think she’d put on weight…

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “Get in the shower, Piper. We’ll talk after.”

  Fiona stepped out of the room, and Piper spent a minute trying to figure out what in hell was happening. And then she noticed how rank her hair was and decided that everything else could wait until she was clean again.

  Her hair washed and curly, and freshly dressed in the clothes that Fiona had left out for her, Piper stepped out into the main room. The suite had a seating area much like Fiona’s. Fiona’s, however, was furnished with delicate fabric settees and lounging couches; Alex’s had high-backed back leather chairs. Fiona looked absolutely ridiculous in them; she was flowing softness, even when she wore a business expression; these chairs were masculine and demanding.

  Though, Piper thought to herself, Alex would look just as ridiculous in them.

  “Sit,” Fiona said, and Piper did. “Feeling better?”

  Better wasn’t quite the word, but she didn’t think she was going to throw up again. Any time soon, at least.

  “Some, yes. Thank you for making sure I could get cleaned up. It really helped. I don’t know what I ate.”

  Fiona wore a tiny smile for just a second. “I’d like to ask you a blunt question, if you don’t mind.”

  Piper was surprised by the formality of Fiona’s tone; she hadn’t spoken like that since they’d had their first conversation up at the cafe.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You and your ‘protection man’. You’ve been sleeping with him since you got on the boat, yes?”

  Piper was long past the point of blushing about it. Fiona had asked a dozen different ways, but Piper had avoided answering. It had been pretty obvious for a very long time. But still... answering wasn’t easy.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, we have.”

  “Mmm.” Fiona nodded. “And exactly how much ‘protection’ has your ‘protection man’ been using?”

  Piper opened her mouth to say of course they’d been careful, because she was always careful, and besides, she was on the pill... but neither of those things was true, even a little bit.

  “Oh fuck,” she said instead.

  Fiona was quiet while Piper settled back into the awful, uncomfortable chair, trying to think of what to say, what to do. How could she even find out? Did they sell pregnancy tests onboard? She had meant to go to the yacht’s shop anyway as she’d been expecting her period to start any day now, and kept being surprised that it hadn’t.

  “Do you think?” She couldn’t bring herself to say the actual words, but Fiona clearly understood the question.

  “I mean, it’s definitely possible,” she said, the strange formality slipping out of her tone. “You could have just eaten something awful, that’s possible too. But... you’re late, right? That’s what you’re thinking?”

  Piper nodded.

  A flash of what looked like pain crossed Fiona’s face. “I have tests in my bathroom. We’ll go back in just a few minutes.”

  It took several long beats before Piper could even guess at why Fiona was hurting. “You don’t have any reason to use them?”

  Fiona shook her head, her gaze turned away from Piper now. “I had hoped that this trip would be... That I could tell Daddy that it had happened. Before we got back to shore. But Alex…” Fiona sighed. “I was so sure it was something real. When Daddy made me sign that prenuptial agreement with him, I was so positive he was just being absurdly cautious. But now, after the way things have been since the ceremony…”

  “What have things been like?” Fiona had hinted, here and there, but hadn’t ever said it plainly. Piper wanted to hear what her friend had to say—and she would have been lying if she’d pretended that she didn’t want to know what she could tell Damian.

  Fiona sighed. “Alex hasn’t so much as touched me since our wedding kiss. He was theoretically too drunk that night, but there’s been... just nothing. Daddy kept saying it was all about the money for him, and I said I understood—I just hoped he was wrong. And he wasn’t wrong.” She forced a faint smile. “But hey. If you got knocked up on my honeymoon, at least someone has.”

  Piper watched as Fiona stood, walked over to Alex’s wet bar, and poured herself three fingers of amber liquor. She did not offer anything to Piper, for which she was grateful.

  After a few minutes, Fiona got a text message on her phone and nodded. “Come on.” The sadness in her tone was so painful to hear.

  Piper wasn’t sure if hugging her friend would be helpful, or just make it worse. But focusing on Fiona’s emotions was good. Better than thinking about her own—because that involved deciding what on God’s green Earth she was going to do if she saw a plus sign instead of a minus. How did you tell a hired assassin that you were knocked up with his kid?

  She followed Fiona into the other bathroom, then took the little plastic wrapped stick from Fiona when it was pressed into her hand.

  “I’ll give you some privacy,” Fiona said before stepping out of the room and shutting the door.

  Piper sat down on the edge of the tub. The cleaners had done a good job, and quickly; the room smelled clean and fresh, without any of that nasty air freshener crap people used. Just thinking about the artificial odor of one of those things made her stomach flip again, but she managed to keep it under control.

  Right now, it was like Schrodinger's Pregnancy; it wasn’t real until she took a test. She could be pregnant, or not pregnant.

  But with Fiona’s pointed comments, it was hard not to know for sure. There were other explanations, sure—lots of food could have made her gain weight, explaining the bra, food poisoning could explain the vomiting, and the late period could absolutely have been due to stress.

  But what was that thing about the razor? The simplest solution was usually the right one. Which meant she needed to pee on the damn stick—preferably without getting her hand messy—and then find out what was going on.

  How in the name of God could she possibly tell Damian if it was positive? Maybe there was nothing to tell him.

  One way to find out.

  Like a woman facing a firing squad, she sat down on the toilet, stuck the stick between her thighs, and peed.

  The package instructions said to wait five minutes before trying to read the results, but the color in the window was already changing by the time she set the stick on the counter and cleaned herself. It was a clear plus by the time she picked it up and stared at it.

  It was a strange sort of dissociation. She had no idea what to think regarding the results. They were clear and obvious; she was pregnant. She had heard plenty of times that there were false negatives on these things, but there were almost never false positives. So, unless she was some kind of miracle or statistical outlier, she was absolutely pregnant with Damian’s child.

  Shit. She was pretty sure she was going to be sick again.

  Fiona knocked lightly and stepped into the bathroom. The stick was in full view on top of the vanity.

  “So it’s that,” she said.

  Piper leaned back, resting the back of her head on the edge of the bathtub. “Looks like.”

  “What are you going to do?” The question was somehow calm, kind and honest, instead of the scandalized query it could have been.

  “I don’t have a fucking idea.” Piper shook her head and made herself sit up. “I have to tell him.” She considered it. “Do I have to tell him?”

  Fiona shrugged. “I’m the wrong person to ask, I think. How serious is it with you guys?”

  “I don’t think it’ll last once we’re off the boat.”

  Truth. She was pretty sure that she would be dropped off at the harbor with a suitcase full of clothes and a briefcase of money and no idea what to do next. She missed Marissa and missed her apartment, but how in the hell was she going to go back to just living her life, knowing Todd was out there? Knowing that this was something he’d been completely content to do to her? She wanted his blood—if only to make sure that hers was safe.

  But no matter what she thought, Damian wasn’t part of it.

  Which hurt, in its own way. The sex was mind-blowingly incredible, but the past few weeks... there had been more than that. Conversations. He had asked about her time with Fiona, which she’d known he would do. But beyond that, he’d told her little bits and pieces of things. She knew he had been in the army first, then the CIA as a sniper. Then he had left and been private security for a while but got too itchy to stick it out. And now he was... A freaking assassin!

  It wasn’t ever all at once, and she definitely talked more than he did... but he was talking. And she liked the things he was saying. But would that last after this? Was she considering some kind of long-term relationship with a man who got literal blood on his hands and didn’t think anything of it?

  “No,” she said clearer this time. “Definitely not.”

  Fiona nodded, and she didn’t look particularly surprised. “So I’m clearly not the boss of you. And I know a lot of people would say that it’s his kid and you have to tell him. But if... if you have no intentions of pursuing any kind of relationship, and you don’t think you’ll see him again…” She quickly glanced at Piper for apparent confirmation, and Piper nodded in agreement. “Then I don’t see any point. I mean, if you feel obligated, of course, tell him. But otherwise... why do that to yourself?”

  “I don’t know,” Piper said, more to herself than to Fiona.

  “If you’re worried about the financial aspect…” Fiona trailed off, and Piper looked straight at her. Fiona shrugged. “Everyone here wants something from me, but you’re just here. You’re the closest to a real friend I’ve ever had. I can help if you want help.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” It might have been the truest thing Piper had ever said in her life.

  16

  The next step was to check out the “best man’s” suite, Damian had decided. He would have to make sure the guy was out, but he’d taken care of that easily enough. There were plenty of working girls on the ship happy to help a variety of sugar daddies not feel lonely while they were out at sea. He found a girl he trusted, handed her enough money for a week, and told her to keep the guy out of his cabin for a night. Simple.

  He smiled to himself. Not every scam had to be complicated. That was where all the amateurs went wrong. If it weren’t for the possible complication of another professional on board, he would have dealt with Chamberlain weeks ago, as soon as they entered international waters, stepped off onto one of the islands, and vanished into the mists.

  He would have taken Piper with him because he promised, and he would have found a way to keep her safe. Maybe helped her and her friend that she was always talking about move to another city. Something. But he would have been gone.

  Instead, he was looking over his shoulder and trying to figure out the right way to handle this. Which was, in and of itself, an amateur move. He needed to get this done. Before long, they would cross back into U.S. controlled space, and then he would actually be able to be charged for murder in a way that the courts could handle.

  Well, assuming he was caught, which was a long assumption. But he didn’t play the odds unless he knew that he would win.

  He assembled the kit he wanted for the night—lockpicks, safe cracking tools (in case he needed to manage that sort of situation), very small demolition charges (in case his ear wasn’t up to the job), a holdout pistol (which would do the job on someone if they were up close, but wouldn’t go through a wall. It wouldn’t even go through a body though really. Just something small, for emergencies), and his casual, semi-formal blacks, the ones that said “Oh, I just wandered down this hallway,” without screaming the second half of that sentence: “to kill you.”

  He was about to head out when Piper came back to the cabin. There was something off about her, some hesitation in the way she walked. She hadn’t moved like that since they had very first come aboard. Whatever strange relationship they had developed, they’d come to trust each other.

  There was a different stirring in his stomach, one of worry. And, annoyingly, it wasn’t about the job; it was about her. It had to be squashed, and fast, because even if this was his last job, she knew about the others. She knew about them, and she would never want anything else to do with him. She just wanted to be free of him. He’d seen that in her eyes, and more than once.

  “Hey,” he said because he needed to. “What’s going on?”

  She looked up at him, and for just a second, her eyes were completely open, hiding nothing. And then her expression closed again, her arms crossed tight over her midsection, and she looked away.

  “I spent some time with Fiona and Alex today,” she said. “Mostly with Fiona, but we had to—Anyway, we ran into Alex and Chris. And they were having a fight about something. Alex wants something done, and he’s worried that Chris isn’t doing it fast enough.”

  A shot of adrenaline ran through Damian; this confirmed that looking into Chris was the right move. It pushed away thoughts of the way Piper was holding herself, and the feelings it had caused at first. He grabbed her and pulled her close, kissing her hard.

  “You’re perfect,” he said.

  For the first kiss, she had been holding back somehow, but when he sealed his mouth over hers this time, she made a little noise in her throat and leaned into him, her tongue moving to tangle with his.