The Ruthless Gentleman

by Louise Bay

  Twenty-Six

  Avery

  I woke the next morning, grinning. Who did that? Not me, certainly not in the middle of a season. Like most yachties, mid-season slump normally kicked my ass. By then tips had become the norm rather than a treat. The lack of sleep took its toll and there had been enough difficult charters and spoiled guests for time to drag and tempers to fray. It was the point in the season where we woke up sobbing, not grinning. But there was nothing normal about this season. Not the length of charter, not the lack of guests and certainly not the sex. If Hayden was even a tiny percentage as good at his job as he was at fucking me, it was no wonder he was a gazillionaire. I shivered at the thought of his mouth, his cock, his dirty words. I pulled the covers off and headed to the bathroom. A cold shower was the first item on the agenda.

  After fucking me as though it was his job, Hayden had promised we’d be discreet. I should have given him up, redrawn the line in the sand, but there was so little about my life that was for me that I wanted to cling to Hayden and how I felt about him for as long as I could.

  I wasn’t on duty until ten this morning, but I tended to keep my hours to whatever Hayden was doing. I showered and changed. Put on some tinted moisturizer and a coat of mascara and then, wet-haired, I picked up Hayden’s satellite phone from beside my bed. He’d insisted I take it last night when I told him I’d not spoken to my father for a couple of days.

  “Daddy?” I asked as my father answered the phone.

  “Avery. How are you?”

  I took a seat on my bed, running my free hand through my wet hair, separating the sodden strands. “I’m sorry I didn’t call last night, there was some stuff here I had to sort out. Did you hear anything from the insurers?”

  Since my father’s diagnosis, I’d persuaded him to have some additional help, just to assist with getting Michael up in the mornings. We just had to get the insurer to pay for it, and given the premium increase I was paying this year, they’d better.

  “Oh, you know what they’re like. I’ll manage just fine.”

  “No, Daddy. Lifting isn’t good for you.”

  “I said I’ll manage. The insurance company isn’t going to pay.”

  “You heard from them?” I asked.

  “I got through yesterday. They’re reassessing our benefits or something.”

  “Well that sounds good. Like they’re trying to help.”

  My dad snorted. “I don’t think that’s what they meant.”

  My father always tried to keep bad news from us. He was always the one marching forward at the front telling us it wasn’t as bad as we thought it was. But I’d learned to read the signs. He wasn’t telling me something. “What did they say?”

  “We don’t know anything for certain, not yet.”

  “What does ‘yet’ mean? Please don’t keep this from me. I need to know.”

  There was a long, deep sigh at the other end of the phone. “I don’t know, Avery. Apparently, unless he’s making significant improvement with the physical therapy, the insurance company said it could be cut.”

  “What?” I leapt out of my bed. “They can’t do that. He is making progress. He’s working really hard.”

  “I don’t know, honey. They said something about it being chronic or preventative or—I can’t remember. They’re saying they’ll drop his sessions down to once a month.”

  I was already paying for three sessions a week and that was only because I had a forty percent pay rise this season. I couldn’t pay for an extra three. “But we didn’t call about the physical therapy. We wanted additional home care. I don’t understand why they would decide to stop what they’ve been doing since the accident.”

  “I guess our request for additional help led to a review of the entire file. I don’t know, sweetheart. But we’ll manage. We always do. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

  I wanted to scream. I’d paid a fortune in premiums over the years and now they were cutting treatment? It wasn’t fair.

  I had little in savings as I’d just finished paying for adjustments to the house so Michael’s wheelchair would fit and we could adapt the garage to a downstairs bedroom.

  I pulled out my notebook from the shelf above my bed where I noted down my budgets. I’d always gotten into trouble as a teenager for being reckless with my allowance, but since Michael’s accident I’d coveted every penny—allocating every dollar and cent I had carefully. Maybe I could pay for the additional home help, but there was no way I was going to be able to pay for additional physical therapy too.

  “He’s been making so much progress, Dad. The physical therapist said so. And you know how much he wants to walk again.” I might not be able to turn back time and stop us from going down to the river, but I would do everything I could so Michael lived the best life available to him. Maybe I could get a promotion to a bigger boat or go work on one of those Russian oligarch’s yachts and dodge bullets and the sexual harassment for more money.

  “I know, honey. They’ve told us they’re putting it in writing, so let’s just wait for the letter and see exactly what’s going on.”

  This was the last thing I wanted my father to be coping with. Another setback, another hurdle to climb. With his recent health scare he should be thinking about reducing his hours at work and taking things easy, but there was no way he’d do that now.

  “Okay. Will you send me a copy—” Shit. I still wasn’t used to not having email on board. “Email me a copy of the letter when you get it. I’ll go ashore to an internet café and pick it up. In the meantime, I’ll see what ideas I have for bringing in some more cash. Maybe I’ll hold up a bank or something.”

  My father chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t see you as an armed robber.”

  I smiled. No matter what, my dad always found the funny side. “It won’t be long until I’m home.”

  “It will be good to see you.”

  My heart tugged at his words. He wasn’t a sentimental man and he’d never admitted he wanted me home or that he missed me. He always insisted that there was nothing in Sacramento for me, and that I was much better off travelling the world. His words, and the dull way they sounded across the phone, made me think that maybe things were changing. Maybe his positivity was floundering. I wasn’t sure what I would do if he lost his bright smile and easy charm—it was who my dad was. No, I had to find a solution to this and things would go back to how they’d been for the last seven years. I had to find a way to restore hope to our family.

  Twenty-Seven

  Avery

  I needed tequila. Or a whiskey. What was it that people drank when they got bad news?

  I stared at the letter in my hands, wanting the words on the page to be different to what I’d read on screen before I’d pressed print. I’d hoped my dad had gotten mixed up when I’d spoken to him a few days ago, but it was true, the insurance company was cutting Michael’s physical therapy. I slumped back into the chair in the internet café. They must have made a mistake. Surely.

  My instinct was to go to the nearest travel agency, book a flight home and try to fix things. But it would only make everything worse, because now, more than ever, I needed my job. I’d spent the last few days with a pen and paper and calculator trying to figure out whether I could bridge the gap between what the insurance would cover and what Michael needed.

  Whichever way I cut it, I was twenty thousand dollars a year short.

  Guilt rose in my throat. It was heavy, suffocating. If I’d been a better sister, he wouldn’t have had the accident in the first place and if I was a better sister now I would be able to find a way to pay for his care. I should have gone to college, done pre-law or medicine—at least then my income would be going up every year instead of plateauing. I could have trained as a physical therapist or learned coding and come up with a great idea like Facebook or something.

  I’d wasted my life. I’d walked away from college and the future I wanted for the money and it still wasn’t enough. What else was left? I d
idn’t know where to go from here.

  I had nothing of any value that I could sell, and even if I got a job on one of those Russian yachts, I couldn’t make another twenty thousand a year.

  Folding up the letter, I placed it into my bag, determined not to cry. I just had to find a way. I’d felt hopelessness like this when Michael was in the hospital, before we’d known if he was going to make it. And again when my mother left. Each time it had eventually lifted, or I’d become used to it—I wasn’t sure which—but for some reason, this time felt worse. Like before I’d had obstacles to get over but this time we were staring at a black hole that was threatening to consume the three of us.

  For once, I wanted this to be someone else’s responsibility. I knew my dad was the parent here but there was nothing he could do. This was down to me. And that burden bore into me until all I wanted was just a moment without it. Maybe that was what I’d found in the time alone that Hayden and I had shared—a few minutes or hours where I felt lighter. It wasn’t as if the responsibility disappeared, more that being with him made me stronger somehow, as if he were lifting me up, reinforcing my strength. He’d be gone soon, and I didn’t know if this news about my brother’s insurance would have been easier to bear if I hadn’t escaped for a little while, if I hadn’t glimpsed a different life for a few hours.

  I stood up, a little dizzy, and headed outside. I’d told Eric I wouldn’t be longer than thirty minutes. Hayden didn’t like me away from the yacht and anyway, I hadn’t touched his room this morning and I needed to clean the bathroom and change the sheets and do the hundred other things that needed doing even though we only had one guest on the yacht.

  I squinted as I opened the door of the internet café and slipped my sunglasses on. Usually I enjoyed the heat, the sunshine and the blue skies, but today I wanted it to rain, hail, snow—anything that didn’t say vacations or money or happiness because that felt like someone else’s world. Not mine.

  I started down the hilly, cobbled streets back to the boat. The last time I’d taken this route, I’d been in an entirely different frame of mind. I’d been so happy I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, talking to strangers—I’d wanted to sing out loud. Today everything was different.

  “Avery.” A man called my name and a figure appeared beside me, as he tucked a newspaper under his arm. “How’s Mr. Wolf?”

  I kept my pace the same, heading toward the sea as I realized that this was the same redhead, Phil, who’d approached me the morning after I’d slept with Hayden.

  “What do you want? I’ve told you I have nothing to say to you.” There were more people around than there had been the previous time I’d met him—tourists wandering around and locals going about their business—but there was something in his overfamiliarity that made me feel exposed and vulnerable. As pleasant and polite as he was, there was something sinister buried below his pale skin and hard eyes. I stared right ahead.

  “I like you, Avery,” he said, his tone cheery as if he were selling fruit or ice cream. “So I’m going to cut to the chase. I want to know what Hayden Wolf is working on.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t discuss my guests and who may or may not be on board.” I didn’t glance at him and just kept walking.

  “Maybe not, but we both know Hayden Wolf is on the Athena. And we both know you could use some extra cash.”

  My stomach flipped over. How did he know anything about me? Who the hell was this guy? “You need to leave me alone.”

  “You don’t want to hear me out, even for your brother’s sake?”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned to him. “What did you say?”

  “I know you take care of your family, Avery. All I’m suggesting is a way you can do that.”

  “You don’t know anything about me or my family—”

  “It’s my job to find out these things. I know about your brother’s condition and how you pay for his insurance. Not to mention all the things you pay for that aren’t covered by your policy.”

  How had this guy found out all this stuff? I turned back to face the water. “How do you know this?”

  “I just had a friend ask a few of your neighbors. People will do anything for a little cash.”

  Our neighbors had talked to strangers about us? For what? A few dollars?

  “And that’s not a bad thing. I’m not judging. Everyone has their own circumstances to consider,” he continued. “It helped me a great deal. What I’m asking from you is nothing. We just need eyes and ears on the ground. That’s all. You’re not hurting anyone. In fact, you’ll be helping your brother.”

  “How would sneaking around and spying on people help my brother?”

  I glanced across at him and he was smiling and relaxed as if he were offering me suggestions on the best beaches in the area. “We’re prepared to pay you a lot of money to tell us what we need to know.”

  “I’m not interested in your money.”

  “Even to help your family? That sounds pretty selfish to me.” He tilted his head, looking at me as if I’d just said something ridiculous.

  “My family wouldn’t want money that I’ve had to lie for.”

  “Oh gosh, no. I don’t expect you to lie. In fact, all I want is the truth. You might even have what I need to know already. Tell me what Mr. Wolf is working on and I’ll give you—”

  “I’m not interested,” I said and started walking toward the tender again.

  “You haven’t heard what I have to offer you yet. For your brother’s sake, you should hear me out.”

  “I’m not interested,” I said. All I wanted in that moment was to get back to the tender and put some distance between me and this red-headed creep.

  “Would a hundred and fifty thousand dollars change your mind?”

  I stopped walking.

  He couldn’t be serious. He was going to give me a hundred and fifty thousand dollars? What kind of shit was Hayden mixed up in? This couldn’t just be one company buying another. Or a long-held grudge. For that kind of money, there had to be more to it.

  “I thought that might get your attention.”

  “A hundred and fifty grand?”

  He smiled. “Right? Easy money. How many seasons would you have to work to make that money? Think of all the amazing things you could do. You could have a holiday, you could take some time off, maybe even go to university.”

  My head was spinning. A hundred and fifty grand was so much money.

  He pulled out a business card and held it between his index and middle finger. “When you’ve thought about how you’d spend the money, which college course you’d like to take, how happy your dad and brother would be with that extra cash in the bank, call me and we’ll arrange a time to meet.” He pulled out a satellite phone from his pocket and held it out.

  I stared at his hands as though I was seeing a hundred thousand dollars right there, baking in the Italian sun. All I had to do was reach out and take it.

  “You’ve resisted, Avery. You’ve said no. You’ve proved to yourself you’re a good person. Now your brother needs you to say yes.”

  My head snapped up and his eyes were warm and calm, and if an outsider saw us, they might think we were friends or that he was making a pass at me.

  I didn’t like him, not one bit, but he wasn’t wrong. My brother did need me, and a hundred and fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money.

  I glanced back to the tender and then swallowed. Would my dad expect me to give up so much money? So much cash would be life changing for my entire family. Including me. I needed more time to work out what would be the best thing to do.

  I snatched the card and phone from his hands and ran toward the tender where Eric would be waiting. I’d never seen a yacht as a place to escape to rather than from, but I’d never been more ready to leave solid ground. I didn’t know which way was up and being back on board was at least a familiar place. There I could decide whether I should betray Hayden or my family.

 
; Twenty-Eight

  Hayden

  I barely recognized myself and these feelings of longing I had for Avery Walker. It had only been a few hours since she’d been naked on my desk and already I missed her sweet taste and her fingers through my hair. We’d managed time alone each day since Taormina and instead of quenching my desire, it set it on fire. How would I feel back in London without her? It didn’t make sense. After all, I hadn’t known the woman long and I wasn’t one for emotional entanglements, but I couldn’t imagine my world without her in it. I needed a plan.

  I wasn’t sure if it was because I didn’t have any other distractions, but she’d become the thing I looked forward to most in my day. Usually the buzz I got from the process of buying companies was better than any drug, better than sex. It made everything else slide away and took my focus. There was something freeing in that. Nothing was more important. I was clear what my responsibilities and objectives were when I was trying to close a deal. Avery complicated that tunnel vision. She seemed to exist outside it, splitting my focus. I basked in the way she cared for me, made sure I had everything I needed, but more, she challenged me, told me what I didn’t need.

  I smiled at the knock at the door, which I knew would be Avery. “Come in.” I kept my gaze on the shiny walnut door. The first thing I was normally faced with when that door opened was Avery’s beautiful smile and wide eyes, but when she opened the door only as much as it took for her to slip inside, her face was a little dull, her smile more forced than usual.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said, reaching for her as she pressed the door closed.

  “I am?” she asked, walking into my outstretched arms. “Can I get you something?”

  I sighed. However close we’d gotten over these past weeks, I couldn’t get away from the fact that she saw herself as the help.