DEFENSE

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Who has the dirty mouth now?”

  He pulled me closer to him at the same time he buried his fingers in my hair, tugging my head back. “I don’t give a shit what Claire thinks or feels or wants. All I can think about right now is how much I’d like to get you back to our room and test out the mattress on that impossibly large bed.”

  His lips were on mine before I could think of a retort, or even catch a breath. I sighed almost unwillingly against his lips, opening to him the moment his tongue asked for entrance. My body remembered his touch even if my heart was desperate to forget it. What a show we must have put on for all the reporters and other wagging tongues watching us. But, in that moment, I didn’t really care. My body was snatching control away from my logical mind, and there wasn’t much I could do to stop it.

  His hand slid slowly up over my back, and then down again, enjoying the curves that were so well hidden under the silky folds of my dress. The music changed, a heavy beat bursting around us, but we were practically standing still, lost in each other in a way I had thought would never happen again. How could he still have this power over me? How could he turn me into a puddle with a single touch? It was so unfair, this thing he did to me. My only consolation is that I knew I had a similar power. I could feel it in the rigidness of his body, in the quick pulse of his breaths, and in the desperation of his kiss.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered against my ear.

  I nodded, aware of what a fool I was being. He knew now that he could use and abuse me at his whim. He knew that all he had to do was kiss me and I was putty in his hands. I swore to myself the day I packed my things and moved out of his house that I would never let another man use me and toss me away the same way he had done. Yet, here I was, rushing off to let him do it all over again. I knew I was in for an even deeper cut than the last time. However, this part of me kept whispering, At least I’ll have this part of him. I’ll have this memory to keep me warm on the multitude of cold, lonely nights that lay in my future. You got to take what you can get. That’s what my aunts always told me. Was this me taking what I could get? Or was this me being a stupid, weak girl?

  He took my hand and led the way toward the doors, headed right into Claire’s path. I don’t know if he planned it that way, or if it was just the way things happened, but she grabbed his lapel as we began to pass.

  “I need your help,” she said.

  Miles barely glanced at her. “Talk to Joan like everyone else.”

  “This is private. It’s about Robert.”

  That made Miles hesitate in his step. He tightened his grip on my hand even as he turned to her.

  “What about Robert?”

  “He’s here, in our state room. He’s injured.”

  “Injured? How?”

  Claire glanced at me and then behind her, as though she was looking for someone. Or maybe something.

  “Did you know Dominic is onboard?”

  Miles gave her a cursory nod. “I didn’t know you and Robert would be here.”

  “We boarded at the last minute. Robert thought you would appreciate his help with the press and everything.”

  “I told him to stay away. If not for him…”

  Miles glanced around then, too, clearly not willing to have one of the many noisy reporters in the room to hear what it was he hadn’t quite said.

  I was quite lost. Why was Dominic so important? And how did Claire know him? I was beginning to think there was something big brewing on this ship, something I was going to wish I had never been a part of. And it clearly had something to do with Dominic, Robert, and Miles. Even Claire seemed quite aware of this secret that seemed to be getting ready to bite us all in places Miles would rather didn’t see the sun.

  “What’s your room number?” Miles asked between gritted teeth.

  “We’re in the Sky Suite.” She grabbed his arm. “I’ll take you up.”

  Miles glanced behind us again, but he didn’t pull away. Maybe it was because of the people behind us he didn’t pull away.

  The three of us walked in tandem out the door, both Claire and Miles concentrating on the corridor in front of us. I started to pull away, an excuse on my lips. However, Miles clung to my hand the same way he had at his mother’s funeral, and I felt a certain need in that touch. He didn’t have to look at me, didn’t even pause in his step. And I, like that same lovelorn pre-teen I’d acted like throughout our marriage, followed.

  The Sky Suite wasn’t far from the suite Miles and I were sharing. Claire shoved a keycard into the lock and stepped aside, gesturing for Miles to go in first. He pulled me along as he glanced around the sitting room. There was nothing out of place. We both shot Claire an annoyed glance. She ignored me, but gestured toward the bedroom door in answer to Miles’ glance.

  “In the bedroom. I made him as comfortable as possible, but I think he’s going to need more than my limited knowledge can provide.”

  “Did you call the doctor?”

  “The doctor would ask questions I’m not sure we want asked right now.”

  That was when Miles let go of my hand. He strode across the room and pushed the bedroom door open with only a hint of hesitation. Claire was right behind him. I’m not sure if she was concerned enough about her husband to want to rush to his side, or if she just wanted to be close to Miles. Her behavior was odd to me. If her husband was so badly injured, why did she dress before coming to the ballroom? Why did she stop for a glass of champagne? Why did she watch us dance for so long?

  Then I heard Miles swear quite loudly, using words I’d never heard come from his lips, and I knew whatever it was that plagued Robert, it couldn’t be good.

  I went to the door and all I saw was blood. Blood on the bedsheets. Blood on towels. Blood on bandages. It was everywhere. And it was still oozing out of a round hole on Robert’s shoulder.

  “What happened?” Miles demanded.

  “We were running late for dinner. We were just rounded the main deck, and we ran into Dominic. Dominic said something about his sister, Robert said something back, and Dominic pulled a gun.”

  I turned and ran from the room, even as Miles pressed his hands to the wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

  “If she tells anyone,” I heard Claire begin to say, but then I was rushing down the corridor, desperately trying to remember where to turn and where to keep going straight. I somehow managed to find the ballroom with only two wrong turns. Lisa was still there, thank goodness, laughing as Colin lowered her into a deep bow.

  “I need you,” I said as I rushed breathlessly to her side.

  Lisa took one look at my face and whispered something to Colin before following me back out the door. By the time we got back to Robert and Claire’s suite, Robert was unconscious and Claire was drinking all the vodka she could find in the mini bar.

  “Great,” she said. “Mention that we can’t let anyone else know, and she goes and brings an audience.”

  But Lisa was already pushing Miles out of the way, assessing the situation and yelling instructions to anyone who was listening.

  Did I mention that Lisa’s in medical school when she’s not tending bar?

  Miles, his face pale and tense, mouthed the words thank you.

  I just nodded, as I moved past him on my way to the bathroom to try to find some of the things Lisa needed.

  There was a story here. The moment Robert’s situation was under control, I was going to hear it if I had to lock Miles in our suite and tie him to the bed to get him to tell it.

  It was the least he owed me after this.

  Chapter 20

  Miles stood at the sink in our stateroom, washing blood from his hands.

  How could a simple arranged marriage turn into such a horrifying, out-of-control mess?

  I was supposed to marry a man, a complete stranger who just happened to be part of one of the most famous, most beloved families in the country for a few months. I only had to pretend to be the perfect wife at a few dinner partie
s and business get-togethers and I’d walk away with the deed to my aunts’ house, the use of his name to get a good job, and a million dollars to boot. What could possibly go wrong?

  How about the fact that I fell in love with him?

  Or the fact that I thought he was in love with me, too?

  And then there was the whole he-forgot-to-deliver-the-divorce-papers-to-the-court-so-we’re-still-legally-married thing after he tossed me out on my rear when he decided he didn’t need me anymore. And the fact that he conveniently forgot to turn over the deed to my aunts’ house to me. Or the fact that he convinced my aunts to give me a ticket to this cruise, supposedly to bring me out of the funk I’d been in since the divorce, just so he could trap me into pretending to be his wife for a group of reporters covering the launch of the new cruise line he was—for reasons I couldn’t quite figure out—running for his father.

  The last I heard, his father blamed him for everything—from his mother’s cancer to global warming. Why would they work together?

  But they were. And I had to sit through a boring dinner, pretending to be happily reunited with my husband while my best friend sat across from me with the man of her dreams. It was suffocating. I had to get out of there.

  Who did I run into when I left the dining room? The one guy who represented the only pleasant date—the only pleasant evening—I had after Miles kicked me out, Dominic. Only, of course, Miles knew Dominic and threatened to kill him if he came anywhere near me. Apparently, Dominic and Miles have history that involves Miles’ brother, Robert, because later in the evening we happened to run into Miles’ former fiancée, Claire, who is now married to Robert, and she announced that Dominic shot Robert in the gut.

  The wound turned out not to be as bad as everyone initially thought. Lisa, my best friend, who happened to be a medical student, was able to sew it up under crude conditions. However, it was a long night. Miles was clearly concerned, watching closely—even helping where he could—as Lisa worked. I stayed close, too. But Claire? Well, she was nowhere to be found during the whole ordeal.

  And now? I was so confused. And watching the blood run in circles around the marble sink was making me nauseous.

  “Are you going to tell the captain?”

  Miles looked up from the sink, his eyes a little weary, as though he’d forgotten I was standing there.

  “Why?”

  “So he can have the police waiting when we get to Spain.”

  Miles’ eyebrows rose, and he regarded me as though he thought I’d lost my mind. “We can’t get the police involved in this.”

  “Your brother was shot!”

  “Yes, but he’s going to live, thanks to you and Lisa.”

  “That’s not the point, Miles.”

  He turned back to the sink, lathering up more soap to clean his hands. There was a lot of blood on his hands. It was coming off slowly, in layers, but there was still so much.

  “Here,” I said, snatching my toiletry bag and digging out a body wash that had pumice ground up in it. “This will cut through the layers better.”

  “Thanks.”

  I leaned against the counter, tugging the loose edges of my dress around my legs.

  “Why would Dominic shoot Robert?”

  Miles glanced at me. “Because Dominic is part of a very dangerous family that has a beef with Robert.”

  “Why?”

  Miles turned off the water, stepping back from the sink with his hands held up like a surgeon on a medical drama. I tossed him a towel, and he quickly rubbed them dry, careful not to touch the white towel to the bloody cuffs of his suit jacket.

  “It’s very complicated, Riley.”

  “You always say that whenever you don’t want to tell me something. But I think I’ve earned the right to know.”

  He brushed past me and went into the bedroom, dropping the towel on the floor and pulling his jacket off. When he began unbuttoning his shirt, I cleared my throat, trying to remind him I was still there, still waiting for a few answers.

  He ignored me. Instead, he tugged his shirt from his arms and tossed it to the floor with the towel and began to undo his pants.

  “Miles.”

  He glanced at me. “As I recall, you’ve seen me undressed before.”

  “Yes, well, things have changed since then.”

  “Have they?” Again, the arch of his perfect brow. “You seemed pretty willing to come back to the room with me and check out the bed earlier.”

  I blushed, the knowledge of just how right he was burning where the world could see it.

  “That was before we ran into Claire.”

  He sat heavily on the end of the bed. “I know you have a lot of questions,” he said, suddenly weary, as he looked up at me with dark shadows under his eyes, “but I’m exhausted. Aren’t you?”

  The truth was, my exhaustion rested heavily on my shoulders. I wanted nothing more than to snuggle under that incredibly soft comforter and forget reality for a few hours. However, reality had become this soap opera of characters—who all seemed to circle around the two of us—and I desperately needed to know how they all fit together.

  “I promised I would explain everything,” Miles said, lifting his hand toward me. “And I will. But can we get some sleep first?”

  I reluctantly took his hand and allowed him to pull me onto his lap. He ran his hand slowly up my back, his other hand slipping under the hem of my skirt.

  “I missed you,” he whispered.

  “Did you? You seemed pretty happy to see me go.”

  He groaned, as he pressed his mouth to my shoulder, biting down just hard enough to send a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

  “Whether you believe it or not, I was trying to protect you. To keep you out of the exact mess I seemed to have just dragged you into.”

  He kissed my neck, the heat of his breath taking mine away. I knew I should move away and set some ground rules to keep myself from falling into the same trap I fell into after his mother died. I knew he only needed me now because he was worried about Robert, just like the first time he came to my bed was because he was grieving for his mother. It was a deep, dark trap that I was only beginning to climb out of. If I fell again…

  But how could I resist the feel of his hand on my hip, the taste of his lips on mine? How could I refuse him the comfort he so desired when my heart was screaming out for him, when every nerve in my body was aching for his touch? I was lost the moment I walked into the bathroom and found him standing there in nothing but a towel, that goofy smile on his lips.

  I touched the side of his face, drew him closer to me, and buried my fingers in his hair. How could I have thought I could get over this? That I could stop wanting this man? How could I have thought that going on a single’s cruise could ever make me forget his touch, his smile, his sense of humor? I was never going to forget. And I was never going to get over losing him when he sent me packing again. But he was mine—right now. And he wanted me—right now.

  Right now was all that mattered.

  That’s why I didn’t argue when he slipped my dress from my shoulders. And it’s why I didn’t protest when he lifted me and carried me to the bed, setting me down in the center of its overstuffed mattress and silky soft sheets. And it’s why I welcomed him when he lay with me, when he slid inside of me, when he took me to a paradise that I could only visit in his arms. And that’s why I curled up in his arms afterward and slept more peacefully than I had in the past six months.

  Chapter 21

  Miles was gone when I woke the next morning. A part of me wasn’t surprised. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

  I climbed into the shower and stood under the spray for a long time, trying to let the heat take the knots from my muscles. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blood circling the sink before it went down the drain. I couldn’t believe how much blood there had been, how much blood came from a wound Lisa insisted wasn’t that bad. It looked bad. And Robert was unconscious all night.

>   I tried to imagine Dominic—the sweet, romantic guy who took me to a play in Dallas and this restaurant where they had violinists walking through the dining room, playing whatever romantic serenade a couple might request—shooting my brother-in-law. As much as I disliked Robert for everything I knew he’d done to Miles—such as marrying his fiancée—I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to shoot him. Let alone someone like Dominic.

  None of it made sense to me.

  When I was dressed, I left the room, searching for the dining room. The brochure my aunts gave me said they had a breakfast buffet until noon, and I was starving. However, just as I turned the corner, heading to the lovely smells emanating from the spread, two very large men stepped out in front of me. One grabbed my arm and the other pressed some sort of cloth to my mouth. In seconds, my knees buckled, as the world went dark.

  ***

  I woke with a horrible taste in my mouth. I immediately sat up, coughing, my throat scratchy and sore.

  “It’s the chloroform,” a voice in the darkness said. “There’s water on the table beside you.”

  “And how do I know there isn’t something in it?”

  “If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

  I knew the voice. It was Dominic.

  “You shot Robert.”

  “He killed my sister.”

  Those words hung in the air for a minute, heavy, like the proverbial elephant. I reached for the water, drinking it down quickly. Gratefully. It didn’t completely wash away the horrible taste, but it made my throat less scratchy.

  Dominic switched on a light. We were in a small stateroom, probably one of the ones in the belly of the ship, as there were no windows or portholes. But it was nice. The bed was a king size, the sheets a little less luxurious than those in the suite I shared with Miles, but still a good quality. There was a thick carpet, a comfortable-looking, straight-backed chair, and a heavy chest of drawers. And the open door to the bathroom showed a smaller version of what was in my suite.

  “Why am I here? What have you done?”

  “I had my guys bring you here so that I could talk to you.”