Piper nodded, feeling almost numb. She pushed herself up and went to the suitcases. She had to give Todd one thing; he knew what sizes she wore, and he’d gone out of his way to provide her with some beautiful clothes for this trip. She found a T-shirt and some comfortable looking pajama bottoms, then headed for the bathroom.

  It had been one hell of a long day, and she needed to feel clean and then get some damn rest.

  13

  Damian watched Piper leave the room and felt the softness melt away from him. That was good. He shouldn’t be allowing himself even this much luxury. Just because she made his dick feel good wasn’t a reason to fall for her. He had to be better than this. He would get both of them killed if he weren’t.

  He wet a cloth in the suite’s small kitchen to clean himself up. He reeked of sex, and it made him feel weak. Distracted. As the smell faded, his sense of purpose focused. He’d blown it off when Piper had commented that he had a talent for killing, but the truth was that he did. He didn’t know if it made him some sort of sociopath or psychopath, but he’d gotten farther in the military because it didn’t hurt him to rack up kills the way it did some men. He was sure those men were better people than he was, and weirdly, he was glad of it. Someone had to be the one to neutralize targets, and better him than some guy who would be going home to a wife and kids wracked with PTSD and unable to get help.

  Private security hadn’t fed the monster inside him, the vicious beast that hungered for blood and violence. People always thought of private security as protecting the target from monsters that appeared from a dozen directions. He’d had a few days like that, of course, but most of the time, his days had droned on, standing in front of places with dark glasses and ill-fitting earpieces, exhausting himself by being endlessly on edge. He had started taking jobs on the side, and they were more lucrative than anything he’d done in the legitimate side of business. And his sister needed help.

  Someone in his family had to stay alive, and human.

  He dressed in dark clothes that would make him blend into shadows without looking like some kind of monster if he had to talk to someone like a guest. No tactical vest or utility belt. Still, he was good at hiding weapons in his shirt sleeves, tucking lockpicks in his belt, and generally keeping whatever he needed on his person whenever he needed to do so.

  The water in the shower came on, and he left the room, locking the door behind him. He gave himself one minute to worry about Piper, concerned that she might be in danger without him there to protect her, but he needed to do his job. Long term, that was going to be the best thing for her. Do his job, do it right, and then get them both off this boat and back to the rest of the world. She could go back to her life, and he would do the same.

  The boat was mostly quiet now. He heard the music playing in the reception, so there were only a few people left in that space to make noise. Most people would have gone back to their cabins, either to fuck or sleep. It had been a long day for most people, he imagined, and with an open bar, people had more than indulged.

  He went over his mental list. He needed to locate Chamberlain’s cabin, set up surveillance, and see who else had space nearby. Determine who, if anyone, was sharing the cabin. Find out the information he needed to make a plan. All the shit he should have known long before he set foot onboard.

  Damian sighed and kept still until the irritation washed off him again. He’d never had so much trouble maintaining that inner stillness, not since his earliest days in the military. He had trained himself to do better than this. Hell if he was going to let one girl screw it all up inside his head, even if she was an incredibly good lay. He would use her the same way he’d use his hand—something to keep him from being distracted by an inconvenient boner—and let her be nothing else.

  Except that wasn’t going to be really possible, now was it? He needed her, and that meant he had to pay attention to her and make sure she was capable.

  Dammit all to hell.

  Damn Todd and his stupid vengeance games instead of doing what needed to be done and getting Damian the professional assistance he required. If Damian went down for this somehow, he would find a way to take Todd down with him. There was no other option.

  Damian made his way through the decks of the ship, mapping out everything from the crew quarters to the upper decks. There were several places he figured a wealthy old man might frequent. There was a top-shelf bar, for example, designed more like a gentleman’s club than the usual plain drinking affair. There was a regular bar as well a deck down. It didn’t have as much of a view, but it was much friendlier to simply get drunk.

  There was a small store for clothing with a range of items from the sort of thing a man would wear to a fine dinner to basic toiletries. It was unlikely that Chamberlain would spend much time there—unless he ran out of toothpaste or something. And even then, surely, he had people for that.

  Damian also found the places where Chamberlain would have the best views of different areas. And that was where things started to get strange. There was a crow’s nest of sorts that gave a great view of the deck below, from the pool area to the dining section towards the back of the ship. It was unkempt compared to the more common areas of the boat. He had expected to pick the lock at the top of the stairs, but the door was already open. It was possible a crew member had come up here, but it seemed unlikely, and if they’d stolen a key, they would have locked the door behind them. Similarly, if he had picked the lock, he would have used his picks to lock it behind him again—if necessary.

  There was a fine layer of dust on the small deck, and signs that someone had come up here, crouched and looked around. They had smoked a few cigarettes—not all of them tobacco—and hadn’t gotten rid of the butts. They’d chosen a spot that an amateur would think was a great lookout, but it was obvious to Damian that the person was visible from the pool area, if not the dining area. Moving one corner over would give much better cover.

  Even more importantly, a sniper rifle would eject its rounds out of the crow’s nest from that point, meaning that the person wouldn’t be able to collect the evidence on their way out of the area. He could see the telltale marks of a tripod set up, and he felt sure that someone had been up here with a scope, looking around and trying to find the right way to shoot someone down in the dining area.

  Sloppy. Just fucking sloppy.

  If there was another shooter on this boat and Todd knew about it; Damian was going to shoot the son of a bitch where he stood.

  Damian hesitated for a long moment, then pulled a burner phone out of his pocket. He put in the SIM card, then powered the phone on. Remarkably, he had reception. He tapped out a quick message to Todd—and after a moment, added Carlos to the message:

  Potential company on board. Friend of yours? Should I introduce myself?

  As soon as he saw that the message had sent, he powered the phone off. He would check for a response later. Now, he needed to see the cabin area.

  He went back down the stairs after relocking the door at the top. He considered leaving it unlocked, just in case it really had been a crew member who had done it, and his nemesis was just lucky. But, in the end, that seemed so unlikely that locking it behind him was the obvious right choice.

  Damian made his way back down the decks, heading towards the forward cabins with the best views and most luxurious spaces. No one bothered him or tried to stop him. He didn’t even have to creep and hide in the shadows. That was what people didn’t realize—as long as you acted like you belonged where you were, few people would bother to try and stop you. They would barely notice you and would forget you quickly. It made his job a thousand times easier. He always appreciated the little shortcuts.

  As he got closer to the suites, there were private security guys. They weren’t subtle; they stood in corners and beside doors, hands crossed loosely in front of them, dark glasses hiding where they were looking and earpieces obvious. He’d had a few jobs where they weren’t even active, but having them there somehow intimidated people. Damian had never quite understood why.

  For a moment, he felt sorry for the men. He wondered if they were happy in the job, guarding a rich bastard from whatever he might be facing, or if they were as bored as he had been standing in doorways just like this one.

  They had certainly clocked him; he saw the slight tightening of their shoulders, the minor shifting of their hands towards whatever weapons they were carrying. He couldn’t convincingly play off being drunk at this point, so he went for the simplest exit he could. He let himself skid to a halt like he had been surprised by what he saw.

  “Hey, sorry, boys,” he said, laughing just a little. He turned his face into that of a regular guy, grinning and laughing. Maybe he’d been drinking, wandering the ship to get his sea legs, and had taken a wrong turn. “Was walking and got a little lost. Sorry.”

  He played at being as uncomfortable as someone would be when they suddenly saw a handful of men who were clearly carrying weapons. He awkwardly turned, letting his feet stumble, and looked back a couple times as if he was afraid they would follow him. They maintained their tension, but it was perfunctory; he had been assessed and determined not to be a threat.

  Amateurs. This entire boat is full of goddamned amateurs.

  He turned down a couple of hallways, exploring and mapping, but stopped short when he heard two men arguing. Before he could even hear the words, he knew they weren’t two drunk men arguing about who was fucking which bridesmaid.

  After a moment, he recognized one of the voices; Alex, the recent groom. Damian was surprised, and a little disappointed in the man. Fiona had looked a little vanilla for his tastes, but she was certainly worth more than just the few hours since the wedding. Of course, maybe she was tired and had gone to sleep. These days, it wasn’t like the wedding night was the first time for many couples anyway.

  Without thinking, Damian slipped into the shadows, all the facades he wore throughout the day fading away. He made himself into darkness, just disappearing, and moved closer to the two men. The carpeted floor made his footfalls quieter anyway, but he wouldn’t have made a sound on a floor made of marbles. He had trained for moments like this one.

  Just around the corner from where they were arguing was a small alcove with a tastefully appointed vending machine, an ice machine, and packets of coffee grounds in a dozen flavors and roasts. He would have preferred something darker, but he tucked himself between the wall and the vending machine and felt fairly sure that he was invisible—unless someone really wanted a Snickers. He listened carefully to the words coming at him from the hallway.

  “Chris, what are you thinking?” Alex snapped, his voice tense and low. “She’ll wake up and notice I’m gone, and how do you think that fucking conversation is going to go?”

  “I don’t give a shit,” the other man—Chris—said. “You told me that there wouldn’t be security. That this would be an easy job. I would have doubled my fee if I’d known it would be like this.”

  “Whatever. The old man changed his plans. I can’t be held responsible for that. You do your job, or you won’t get off this boat.”

  An empty threat; Damian heard it at once. The tremor in the other man’s voice, and the slight shake—he hadn’t ever killed someone. He probably wasn’t even carrying a weapon, and he wouldn’t know how to land a killing blow quickly if he did.

  Nonsense.

  This Chris bastard didn’t have Damian’s instincts.

  “Okay, man, calm down, alright? I just—I don’t have the right equipment to get around this stuff.”

  Alex’s voice was more heated. “What do you think I’m paying you for. Figure it the hell out. Now I’m getting back to my wife.”

  There was the rough sound of one man shoving past another, and a body hitting a wall. Not with a lot of force, just the movement of someone being pushed aside.

  Damian stayed still as Alex stomped down the hallway away from him. After another set of low curses, Damian heard Chris moving in the opposite direction.

  Well. That certainly made things more interesting.

  Damian made the quick choice to follow Chris at a distance and find out which cabin he was in; the guy didn’t even glance up as Damian traced his steps. He slammed his cabin door behind him, loud enough to irritate someone awake, but only if they were paying attention and listening for odd sounds. The doors were well cushioned and closed slowly and gently.

  Convenient, good to know...

  But also, it would make it harder to make a quick and subtle exit from a room if needed. Damian counted down the three seconds it took for the door to close and made a mental note to check his own door and see if the time was consistent.

  Damian crept through the ship more, finding nooks and small spots to hide gear if necessary and unexpected passages that led from one place to another. They were clearly designed to let staff move quickly throughout the ship, but they were dusty and disused. Perfect for him.

  When he got back to his cabin, he unlocked the door, slipped in quickly—the door closing time was consistent—and stripped down to his boxers as he headed towards the bed. It wasn’t until he saw the body stretched out under the covers that he remembered he was sharing the room with someone.

  He cursed quietly—enough that he wouldn’t wake Piper up—and then tried to decide what to do. He certainly hadn’t told her that she shouldn’t sleep in the bed, and he wasn’t enough of a bastard to wake her up and kick her to the couch. But at the same time, he was tired and wanted a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow could go a lot of different ways, and he would be better off fresh.

  It only took a few moments to make the call. Piper looked to be a neat sleeper. She was curled to one side of the bed, and she wasn’t snoring. He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and laid down on top of the covers, pulling the blanket over himself. He felt like a real gentleman, which was bizarre as hell. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt like that before.

  But it didn’t take him long to fall asleep. It never did.

  14

  Piper woke slowly, awareness gradually fading back in. She remembered where she was, bit by bit, and was lulled by the gentle motion of the ship on the water. And then the remembering of why she was on the ship in the first place rushed back into her all at once, and she jerked upright with her hand pressed against her sternum as if she could use it to calm her racing heart.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her breathing, on pulling her energy back down to a level where her heart wouldn’t feel as if it were trying to break through her ribs.

  When she could take a deep breath, she opened her eyes again. Just to the side of her, Damian was wide awake but still. It looked like he had laid down on top of the comforter, but with a blanket pulled over him. It was the strangest thing she’d ever seen, but it made her feel weirdly safer.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t normally... do that when I wake up.”

  He nodded slowly. “I normally wake up exactly like this. Well, sometimes there’s a gun.” Piper felt the blood drain from her cheeks, and Damian laughed. “Kidding. Promise. I’m kidding.”

  He sat up and stretched, and Piper enjoyed seeing the flat planes of his chest. She wanted to run her hands over them, maybe following them with her tongue. He was terrifying, and he was the hottest man she had ever seen.

  “Did you learn anything last night, while you were... out?”

  He nodded, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “There’s someone else here. Staking the place out. Looking for opportunities. But they’re sloppy as hell.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  She stared at his tight ass. She had spent time with her hands on it yesterday, but she hadn’t gotten to see it. Apparently, every inch of him was as perfectly carved as his chest and abs. No part of this was supposed to make her as wet as it was.

  “If the dumb jackass runs around and gets caught, everyone gets on edge. Chamberlain already has private security on board—having extra attention on the ship puts extra attention on me. That’s the last thing I need.” He shook his head. “This is going to be a mess as it is.”

  Piper nodded. She’d had a long time to think last night—showering and then getting into bed when Damian was gone. She had realized that, no matter what else happened, he was probably the only way she was getting off this boat. If she tried to betray him, she had no doubt that he would kill her and toss her overboard without a second thought. She needed to do what he said, get through this, and then she’d run for it. Hell, if the police caught him, she would say that he’d kidnapped her. It certainly wouldn’t be a lie. She’d throw Todd under the bus as well, just as hard.

  But, in the meantime, if she could be helpful, if she could make sure he got done what he needed to get done without getting caught... her life would be that much easier. She didn’t like the idea of what he was here for, but if her choice was to live or die herself... She chose to live. Maybe that made her a coward. She didn’t care.

  “When I’m with Fiona today…” Piper started.

  Damian turned back to her, and she saw his cock outlined against his tight shorts. She forced herself not to lick her lips. It wasn’t easy. There had to be something she could do to make him press her back into the mattress, ignoring her protests...

  She shook herself and forced her mind back to the actual question she needed to ask.

  “Is there something I should ask? Fiona, I mean. Or try to find out from her?”

  Damian looked her up or down. From the way his eyes lingered on the V of her pajama pants, she wondered if he was thinking about shoving her down and fucking her face, or something similar. She saw him stiffen in his shorts, just a little, and it was almost more than she could take. She told herself that it was only about keeping him happy, about surviving, and she knew that she was lying to herself.