“Oh, how is that?” Whitmore raised his brows and Derek smiled deprecatingly. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
Whitmore stayed silent for a moment and then gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I buy stuff in eastern Russia and they bring it back on the Natant Revel. I don’t bring in enough to provide the kinds of crates and trouble a regular shipping line would require. Sylvester and I have a mutually satisfying arrangement. The Natant Revel—” Whitmore cast a doubtful look around the galley “—now that is a yacht.”
For Thia’s sake Derek wanted to punch the jerk, but he forced down his anger. “That’s the truth. I think they could just about carry the As You Wish on it. Sylvester gave me a tour and I thought I was on the QE II.” Derek put his own almost full glass in the sink, but tipped the wine bottle and filled Whitmore’s glass again.
“Well, let’s shove off. Would you like to do the honors?”
“Untie the ropes?”
“Yes. I’ll secure them and make sure the boat doesn’t drift away from the dock so you can get back on.” Your wife does it all the time, and perfectly, too, you prick. But of course, Thia didn’t try to do it wearing Italian loafers with leather soles. Derek smiled.
With a minimum of slipping and stumbling on Whitmore’s part, they set off. Derek maneuvered the As You Wish out into the Bay, and towards Alcatraz and the Golden Gate beyond.
“What types of things do you import?”
Whitmore had reclaimed his wine glass and stood beside Derek. “Basically anything I think I can get a good price for on the wholesale market. I don’t do any retailing.”
“I’ve never been in eastern Russia there. Do you like it?”
“It’s okay. Colder than hell in the winter and the women aren’t anything to brag about.” He grinned. “Unless you know the right places to go. Then you can find good looking broads that will do literally anything if you promise them a way out of Russia.” His brows rose. “Know what I mean?” He sipped the wine and strolled to the open doorway as they headed under the Golden Gate Bridge.
On the Pacific side of the Golden Gate Derek turned the boat north.
Howard continued, “The main attraction in Russia for me is that the market is large for the number of people looking to sell combined with the large number of people here wanting to buy. I sometimes go into North Korea if I hear there’s something specific to examine. I’ve found the trips to be profitable at times.”
“Korea, too. You’re really the traveler. Where do you market your product here in the States?”
Whitmore finished off his wine and preened. “That’s the beauty of it. I bring my merchandise back here and three or four people buy it for resale. Couldn’t be easier, and I live like a king.”
“Sounds interesting. Maybe I’d like to invest in your business. What would I be buying into exactly?”
Whitmore laughed. “This is a one-man deal, I’ve no need for a partner. I’m not what you would call a ‘publicly traded company.’” He laughed again, his face reddening with the exertion and the wine. “Or then again, maybe I am. The public sure does trade it.”
Just let me punch him, one time. “Let me get that bottle of wine. And now that we’re on auto-pilot I can step away. Be right back.” Derek went below.
In the galley, Derek found the transmitter. “Sorry, Jim. I know this wasn’t in the plans, but I promised my woman.” He switched off the electronics, imagining Jim turning blue and calling him every name in the book. Derek would calm him down later. Right now he went for Thia.
Opening the door to the storage compartment, he asked, “Have you been listening?”
She removed the earphone and accepted Derek’s hand to rise from her cramped position.
“Yes. I heard every slimy word.” She stretched and twisted, took a deep breath and then seemed ready.
“You’re okay, right?” Derek grasped her shoulders and studied her eyes. “My butt’s in a sling here, just letting you come with me, so go out there and blast him with every angry thought you’ve had this past year. Get it all out of your system, but keep control of yourself.”
“Thanks, Derek. I know you put yourself on the line for me.” She gave one quick nod. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”
He smiled and kissed her. “Shout at him, scream at him, give him hell, but remember I have to turn him over, so don’t get violent, okay?”
“Got it.” She smiled back.
Derek entered the salon ahead of Thia.
“Where’s the wine?” Whitmore asked.
“I’ve got something better to add some zing to your life.” He stepped aside.
Thia sped past Derek and started to attack Howard. “You God damn bastard. I’m going to kill you!”
Derek grabbed her from the back trapping her arms. He lifted her, pulling her back and trying to avoid her kicking feet as she struggled to reach Whitmore. Derek turned, separating the tornado in his arms from her target.
Searing, ragged pain penetrated the right side of his head and he fell forward, first knocking the wind out of Thia and then trapping her beneath him.
* * * *
Thia struggled to get loose, but not with the same vigor she’d just used to get at Henry because with Derek on her, she couldn’t get air. Italian leather shoes came into view.
Henry crouched, letting a nasty looking gun stay boldly in view. “It looks like your boyfriend isn’t going to be much help.”
“You fucking asshole. What have you done?”
Howard watched her struggle until she finally dragged herself from under Derek. Then he moved back and aimed the gun generally in her direction.
Thia felt Derek’s neck for a pulse. She looked up at Howard, fighting tears and a sinking feeling. She’d let Derek down, in every way. In the worst way. Protecting her from herself had gotten him killed. “You’ve killed him, God damn you.”
He shrugged. “Self-preservation. He was a cop, wasn’t he?”
“No! He was—” She’d almost blurted out the truth. “He was an artist. A painter. He was my friend.” She shouted the last.
“Right,” he said on a snort. “I smelled something right up front, but let it go because Oglethorpe recommended him. Fucking Oglethorpe,” he said with real venom. “But then you show up? This has got to be some kind of fucking trap. And when I feel cornered, baby, I take whatever way out I can find.”
He pulled out his cell phone. “Damn, no signal.” For a moment, he stared out at the ocean, too far for Thia to tackle him and too menacing for her to want to try.
“Even if they’re at Oglethorpe’s I might be safe,” he said out loud. “They’ll have trouble tying anything to me.”
“That’s what you think. You don’t have anywhere to run. Your picture will be everywhere and they know your trick of ‘dying.’ That won’t work another time.” Thia sat next to Derek and tried to gain her breath. “You’ve destroyed my life twice. Once when you faked your death and now by killing Derek.” She laughed humorlessly. “I guess I’m next. You’ll destroy my life literally. What kind of man have you become?”
“A happy one. I have everything I ever wanted.”
“So you never wanted me. Our marriage meant nothing to you? What about the business?”
“At first, I think the marriage did mean something. But mostly it was something I thought I had to do. And the business was one big fucking pain in the butt. All those headaches doing the books for other companies? But I didn’t want you to have it, either. That’s why I paid Bates to screw things up for you. But like everything else—” he waved the gun at her and leered “—if I want a job done right, I have to do it myself.”
She gasped. “Not yet! I-I want to hear more about you, what you’re doing.”
“Not much to tell. I don’t have to work, get to travel, I have any woman I want with the snap of my fingers, and money like you wouldn’t believe. Tax-free, of course.”
“All by being a rotten drug dealer.”
“What do you know about it?
” He took another step forward and raised the gun.
She could take him, damn it, she knew she could whip his skinny ass, but he did have that gun. Her wits would have to win the day.
“I know a lot about you. Like how you’re blackmailing Sylvester and Lilly to make them bring the drugs back from Russia.”
“Blackmailing them with what?” His eyes glittered suddenly and they roamed her body. Her skin crawled with only his visual contact.
“The Chinese girls they bring back. Not that they are doing anything wrong. After all, the girls would die otherwise.”
“You mean you think turning girls into sex slaves is a good thing?” Disbelief tinged his tone.
“They explained how it works to Derek and me. It’s not all sex and the girls are protected in a way.”
“Believe me, it’s a lot of sex, in every position imaginable.”
The Mojave was moister than her throat. She shouldn’t tempt him—she really shouldn’t. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He was leading up to her death. But sooner, or later? She’d keep him talking and hope for later. Surely Jim was on his way?
“I understood it was more than sex. The girls used their language skills, and they could leave if they felt it would be better for them.”
“So if I give you the same deal you would be my sex slave? You could talk any damn language that came to mind during sex, if your mouth wasn’t full, that is.”
“Since you didn’t seem to like our time in bed when we were married, I might have to think about it. Lilly’s girls have advantages. What’s my advantage?”
“Let’s see, instead of killing you and throwing your body overboard, you would stay with me doing whatever I want. They get money, but you get your life. Fair trade?”
Later. She wanted to die later—if she had to die at all. “What about money?”
“What about it? Oglethorpe’s girls are young. Some are virgins, though not for long since they command the highest price. You’re old by their standards.” He grinned. “I’ll share some drugs with you, though, and then you’ll forget all about being a slave—for me or anyone I give you to.”
She turned icy cold with fear. Where the hell was Jim? He should have been out after them as soon as Derek turned off the mikes.
A loud buzzer sounded. “What is that?”
“The autopilot. It’s about to turn off.”
“Shit, I forgot about it. Stay right where you are and I’ll take care of it. Then we can get back to what we were talking about.”
He sat in the pilot’s seat and began operating the instruments as though he’d done it before. Where he was sending them, she had no clue. But she knew Derek had GPS on board, so Jim would still find them.
Megalomaniac that he is, Henry hasn’t considered that he won’t get out of this.
The gun was in his lap, too far for her to reach it. She tested each muscle, determining she’d be able to move when the opportunity came. When the bastard was dead, she’d find a way to call for help or get the boat back to shore.
“Let’s see how ocean worthy this tub is, shall we? It’ll give us time, anyway. Now where were we?”
Thia studied his eyes. They gleamed but not with reason. He did know he was in a losing position—he knew he wouldn’t come out of this a free man.
Which meant, he had nothing to lose now.
“Oh yes,” he continued as though they were on a pleasure cruise, “you were going to be my sex slave. Come over here.”
Slowly, she stood. “What do you have in mind?”
“Does it matter? If you're going to be my slave you'll have to do what ever I say, or you die, right?”
“I guess that’s true.” She looked down at Derek, so still, so pale, and said her goodbye. Then she walked to where her husband stood. “How do you want me?”
“This might be fun. Come over here and do exactly as I say or I will expect you to submit to punishment. First, say ‘Please master, do with me as you wish for as long as you wish. My body and soul belong to you,’ and say it like you mean it.”
The words were ashes in her mouth, but she said them.
“Ask me to fuck you hard.”
“Please fuck me hard, master.”
“Strip naked and let me see if you are still worth fucking. As I remember, I’d gotten pretty bored with you shortly after our wedding, so God only knows what the last year has done.”
She removed her shorts and blouse, fighting the urge to cover herself. She wouldn’t have in front of her husband, but this monster was not her husband in any sense of the word.
“You don’t wear underwear anymore? My, my. Who taught you that?” Then he cackled. “Oh, right, you’re dead friend. Well, he did me a favor. Turn around and let’s see if your body turns me on.”
He stood and closed in on her, running his hands up and down her sides, brushing her breasts and rubbing his erection against her butt.
I guess I can still turn you on, asshole. Now if I can just keep you distracted until help arrives.
Breath stuck in her throat when Henry pressed a finger between her pussy lips. “Very nice. I'll have to do more with that.” Then his hands moved around to her ass cheeks feeling how firm they were, before giving them several strong smacks. “And I can definitely have fun with those.”
She tolerated his strokes and gropes, but her heart pounded with fear when his hands wrapped around her neck and squeezed until she had trouble breathing. She raised her hands to pull his away and tried to move.
“Stay still and drop your arms to your sides. I’ll do what I want or how will I know you meant what you said about being mine?”
He was losing all reason now. His voice shook as much as his hands did. She didn’t dare provoke him. Suddenly she realized he’d used both hands on her. Where was the gun? She tried to steady her breathing. Lowering her hands, she closed her eyes and put up no resistance to his choking.
“This makes you come better, did you know that?” He whispered next to her ear, his breath blowing her hair and tickling her cheek. “It makes you come harder. You’ll see.” He released her neck and Thia slumped against him in relief.
He took hold of her ass cheeks, pushing his rock-hard dick against her. “Tell me you want me to hurt you then fuck you.”
Shit, this guy is sicker then I ever thought. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“If you don’t say it I will just kill you now.” She stayed silent. “Say it!”
She stifled a sob. “Please hurt me and then fuck me.” Thia looked around for the gun and saw it on the other side of the instruments.
She stood still, waiting for an opportunity, watching him take off his shirt, exposing his skinny chest and arms. He was so unlike Derek in every way. Why hadn’t she seen he had this side? How could she have slept with him for years, shared his life, his business and his bed and not seen he was pathetic? And horrid?
He pushed at his waistband, staring greedily at Thia’s pussy. When his pants reached his knees, she darted for the gun. He fell over his own feet, but grabbed for her, catching a leg. He roared, pulling her to the floor and back, but not before she’d knocked the gun off the counter.
Oh, God, oh God! She stretched, her fingers aching to reach any part of the weapon. The fall did nothing to Henry’s strength but Thia’s adrenaline and motivation were greater by about half an inch—the half inch of her index finger that hooked the trigger gate.
With a single surge of strength, she jack-knifed her body. He went for the gun. She pointed at his chest and without another thought, emptied the weapon.
He jerked and jumped and then fell still. She scooted away, breathing hard with fear and triumph. Pulling herself up, she examined what she’d done. Blood spattered everything—the deck, the furniture. Her.
She’d killed her husband, the man she’d promised to love forever.
No, you killed Howard Whitmore. You should be given a metal.
But she wouldn’t. Jim would ki
ll her. After he killed Der—. “Oh, God, Derek!”
Struggling to her feet, she stumbled to his side and dropped to her knees. Tears she’d kept at bay finally coursed down her cheeks. Here she was, two dead men and alone several miles out at sea. Where the fuck was Jim?
From the corner she saw movement—a tiny movement—from Derek. Newly-found energy enabled her to turn him and lift his head to her lap. She held him as he regained consciousness and looked around. He raised his hand to the side of his head and winced.
“What happened to Whitmore? Why are you naked? And is that blood? Oh God, did he hurt you?”
Thia cried with happiness. “No, I’m fine, but how are you?”
Derek looked into her gaze, “Some morphine would be nice, but just hold me for a minute. It feels really good.” He sighed. “How long was I out?”
“I’m not sure, maybe thirty minutes. Do you have morphine on the boat?”
“No, but right now I wish I did. There is some aspirin.” Derek tried to get up, flinched and reached a sitting position for only moments before falling back into her arms. “Is the boat still on autopilot?”
“Yes, it shut off but I think the bastard reset it to head out to sea. But never mind. I can tell you everything later. I’m just happy we’re both alive.”
“I am too. I need to reach Jim and find out what’s going on with the Oglethorpes.”
“I think we have a more pressing matter.” She indicated her now-dead husband.
“I see what you mean. He looks good for having been dead over a year, doesn’t he?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Do we need his body to close the drug smuggling case?”
“I don’t think so.” He smiled. “You must have been motivated. Looks like you emptied the weapon.”
“You don’t even want to know.” She shuddered, though the ordeal was ended.
Derek reached up to stroke her hair. “You’ll need to talk about it, and I’ll be there.” He heaved a sigh. “But I need to get to the controls.” Dizziness overcame him when he tried to stand again and he fell back. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“I wish I knew how to handle the boat,” Thia said.
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