Disguised with the Millionaire (Dangerous Millionaires Series Book 2)

by Debra Andrews

  He clamped his hand on her waist.

  “No.” Kate tried to hit him with the spike of her high-heeled shoe, but only scraped his pants leg.

  He yanked off her shoe. “You force me to do this, but you won’t be able to tempt any more men. Don’t worry about drowning later, you’ll be dead before you hit the water.”

  “No,” she cried.

  He placed the knife at her throat and scratched the blade across her skin. He didn’t cut her, but she took the warning and ceased struggling.

  Marc ran his hand up her side. “Nice bruises. From your husband?”

  When she didn’t respond, he held the knife to her breast, “Answer when I ask a question,” he snapped.

  “No!”

  He chuckled. “Ha! Fooled you. I know they’re from when I tried to run you off the road. You wouldn’t be alive if Mrs. Farrington’s pet Cecilia hadn’t been in the car. Now your lesson begins. It’s what you deserve, taunting me with that face and with that ass.”

  “I don’t taunt anyone.”

  “If I say you do—you damn well better agree.” He slipped a rope loosely around Kate’s neck and tied the ends to the chandelier. “Here are the rules, when I ask a question, you respond and you say ‘yes, sir.’ Do you understand?”

  Trembling, she nodded.

  “You forgot ‘yes, sir.’ Failure to follow orders…” He made a tiny cut on her chest. Kate cried out. “Like this and then cut.” He reached up and sawed just a little through the rope that bound her hands. “My game of ‘chicken’ for sluts. You don’t want your hands to become untied now, or it’s, ‘tada,’ you’ll hang by your neck. Your choice is to accept me as your commanding officer and obey orders.”

  He trailed his lips over the two-inch scar on her abdomen just above the edge of her skirt. “Nice scar.”

  Kate shivered with revulsion.

  He drew the knife around her skin, seeming to take delight at playing with the blade where her breasts mounded over her bra. She raised her knee to kick him, but couldn’t get any leverage.

  “Rules are rules. You lose on that one. You know, eventually this rope will give.” He sawed a little more through the rope that bound her hands. “So you have two choices, and after you’re marked, and you beg me to cut you down, you’ll do anything I ask.”

  Kate trembled as he lowered the knife to her neck. “I’m studying to be a psychologist. I can get you the help you need. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me down and we’ll talk—”

  “Doctors?” he roared. He raised the knife to her lips. “Talk like that again and those will be the last words you ever speak out loud. Do you hear me?” he shouted those last words in her face.

  She nodded weakly. “Yes, sir.”

  Marc lowered the knife again, trailing down her skin to her skirt. “You should already be at the bottom of the ocean,” he said, more calmly, “but you provoked me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered, shaking with fear. Her arms ached, from her weight and from lack of circulation.

  “Do everything I say and I’ll cut you down, alive—at least for a while. Makes no difference to me.”

  He was going to torture her, rape her, and kill her, and she didn’t even know in which order. And there was nothing she could do to escape. Her pepper spray was in her jacket, and even if her hands were free, the rope hung around her neck like a noose…

  Marc ran his palms up her stomach and touched the fabric between her bra cups. With the knife, he sawed at the thin material.

  His eyes lit with excitement. “Don’t move or I might accidentally cut you.” He chuckled. “We wouldn’t want that to happen. I’ll get you out of the rest of your clothes and then you can pay for your sins for seducing me, slut. I’ll tell you just how bad of a girl you’ve been… And then when I’m ready…” Marc chuckled as if making a joke. “I’ll give you a special gift for Christmas.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Trent steered the speedboat away from port. He hoped Eden and Marc would believe that he searched elsewhere so they could overtake the yacht. He didn’t want them to know he suspected them and was on their tail. Thanks to the secret GPS tracking units installed on all Farrington boats, the recovery feature would help him find them in the night.

  Several hours before dawn, the ocean traffic held only a few boats going in the same direction. He had to get to the yacht before daylight.

  Gaining on them, he spotted a yacht’s running lights in the distance. The device on his console indicated the vessel was his grandfather’s yacht.

  Trent pushed the engines to a higher speed. “Roland, radio the Coast Guard and the police department and tell them we’ve arrived. I can’t wait and I’m taking the dingy and going in.” Trent released a deep breath. “Now I just have to hope I can surprise Marc and Eden and rescue Kate, which might not happen if the Coast Guard arrives first.”

  He was thankful for the light traffic on the water this morning. While he’d never get the speedboat near the yacht without being detected by the yacht’s surveillance system, he might be able to get there undercover in the rubber dingy. He grabbed his weapons and a flare gun and put them in the pockets of his jacket.

  * * *

  At a knock on the stateroom door, Marc stopped humming ‘Mary had a Little Lamb’ and stopped sawing at the fabric of Kate’s bra. She sagged with relief.

  He opened the door and let Eden into the cabin.

  “Why the hell do you have her hanging from the chandelier?” Eden planted her hands on her hips and threw him a nasty look. “Damn it. Are you losing your marbles? Throw her in the water before daylight as we agreed. We’ve got to get rid of her, and you have to drive. There are more boats out there, and something’s going on with one of the engines.”

  The man headed out the door. “Queen Bee, I told you I’d take care of her. Now, get back to the helm and drive the boat, while I check the engine room.”

  Once the door closed behind them, Kate, who’d nearly been hyperventilating, caught her breath. She had to get loose. She stretched her fingers and managed to grip a metal part of the chandelier. She swung her legs, trying to rip the light fixture from the ceiling, but it held fast.

  * * *

  Trent motored the dingy alongside the yacht and cut the engine. Thankfully, it was still dark, but soon the sun would be coming up over the horizon. He had one chance at this. With the dingy line in one hand, he jumped onto the back diving platform of the yacht, then tied the dingy to the stern of the boat.

  He climbed up the ladder and headed down the walkway on the port side. Marc Simpson and Eden came out of his grandfather’s stateroom. Trent hid in the shadows as they continued walking in the opposite direction. They parted ways when Marc opened the door to the engine room and disappeared inside. His mother walked on toward the pilot house.

  Where was Kate? His intuition bristling, he opened the door to his grandfather’s stateroom. Tied by her wrists, Kate dangled from the chandelier in the middle of the room. Her shirt off, a tiny rivulet of blood stained her bra and ran down her stomach.

  “Kate!”

  “Trent!” she cried.

  He rushed to her and clasped her in his arms, supporting her. “What the hell? Let me get you down. Wrap your legs around me to take some of your weight, and I’ll cut the rope.”

  “Hurry, he might be back any minute.”

  “I’ll do this as fast as I can.” Trent began sawing through the rope around her neck.

  She sagged against him. “Your mother…she wants to kill me! And you!”

  “I know. Who else besides her and Marc is on the boat?”

  “Just your mother and her assistant, I think.”

  Once the rope around her neck was cut lose, he began sawing at the rope binding her hands to the chandelier. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I’m okay. But I didn’t think you would come for me.”

  “Yes, and damn it, Kate, I didn’t think I’d see you again
. If you ever pull another stunt like that and go off to some place dangerous alone, my brave girl, I’ll—”

  “You’ll do what, Mr. Farrington?” she said through chattering teeth.

  “I’ll reprimand you sternly and tell you to take me with you the next time,” he said, finally cutting through the last of the bonds. “We’re almost done.” He blew out a breath of relief.

  She chuckled through her tears, her face pressed against his chest. “I promise you I will.”

  Once he had finally freed her from the loosened ropes, he held her in a bear hug. “You sure, you’re okay. He didn’t hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing serious, but he’s crazy.”

  He nestled his face in her hair. “Let’s get out of here.” He slid her to the floor. “The dingy’s at the back of the boat.” She grabbed her discarded jacket and slipped it on.

  Trent took the time to kiss her forehead. “Stay close behind me,” he ordered as he opened the door. He kept her hand tightly in his.

  The weather was serene, and the pink horizon indicated dawn was breaking. They crept down to the back of the boat and toward the dingy. “So far so good. You first, Kate,” he whispered.

  “Son of a bitch,” Marc swore above them on the top deck. He raised his gun and fired. Shots whizzed by them. Trent and Kate ducked. Trent fired several rounds in Marc’s direction and then his gun was out of ammunition. Marc fired and hit the dingy and it fizzled and slumped into a collapsed mushroom.

  Trent took Kate’s hand and they ran down the outside passage of the yacht on the starboard side. “We’ve got to find more weapons.”

  * * *

  Minutes later, Marc was trampling down the stairs at the bow just as Trent located another gun. Kate’s heart pounded ferociously.

  “Put the gun down on the deck,” he said waving his weapon toward Kate. “Or I’ll shoot her, Farrington.”

  Trent gave Kate a pensive gaze, then laid the gun on the deck.

  “To the helm.” Marc marched them to the pilot house.

  “Ship’s on autopilot.” Eden stepped onto the open decking. “Why, if isn’t Trent? Didn’t expect you.” Hatred glittered in her eyes.

  “You don’t have time for long good-byes, Eden,” Marc said in a cold voice. He reached into his jacket and handed her a gun. “You’ve been waiting. Take him out. He’s all yours.” He kept his arm tightly around Kate’s shoulders and squeezed. “The girl is mine…for a while.”

  “Damn, Marc,” Eden said. “I don’t care how you get your thrills with women, but it’s interfering with your business with me. Now, you shoot them both and get rid of them over the side. You were supposed to take care of this and not involve me.”

  “Trent, Eden hates you,” Kate said, searching for words to distract them. “That’s why she wanted me dead. It was to hurt you. Everything she’s done—has been to hurt you. And she hired Marc to do it.”

  Trent eyed Kate for a second, then glanced at Eden. “My grandfather finally told me the truth. He coerced you into adopting me—and that made you hate me.”

  “You’re right, you bastard, but you were too stupid to figure it out.”

  “Not too stupid that I didn’t learn early on what a cold-hearted bitch you were.”

  Eden pursed her lips. “You’ve ruined everything, as usual. You were supposed to marry Cecilia.”

  “No, Eden, you’ve ruined everything for yourself. You don’t want to go to prison for murder. Give it up. Roland is not far away in the speedboat. The Coast Guard will be here soon.”

  “You’re lying,” Eden snapped. “You take care of them both, Marc. That’s what I’m paying you to do. I’ll drive the boat.”

  Kate retrieved her keys with the pepper spray from her jacket pocket and aimed for Marc, but he slapped the device from her hands. “Puny. Doesn’t work in the wind.”

  The pepper spray attempt was just enough of a distraction though. Trent jumped Marc. They rolled around on the deck, wrestling for the gun.

  Her heart pounded at a rapid rate as Kate searched for a weapon. She opened a long white trunk and found fishing supplies. She grabbed a spear gun and a pole with a huge metal hook.

  Marc wrestled the gun toward Trent’s face. “You’re going to die now, Farrington.”

  Afraid to use the spear gun because she might hit Trent, Kate set it aside and whacked the long, hooked end of the pole into Marc’s back.

  “Hell!” Blood spurted from Marc’s wound and the device stayed implanted.

  Trent forced the gun back toward Marc. A piercing shot rang in the morning air.

  Marc struggled to his feet. A gunshot wound at his shoulder also bled profusely. He reached behind his back, trying to grasp the hook, but it was thoroughly lodged in his flesh. He gave up on trying to remove the hook. With anger etching his features, he pointed the gun toward Kate.

  Fear ratcheted through Kate. She stared at the weapon and backed away.

  A flare shot past her and rocketed into Marc’s stomach. Marc’s face gawked in surprise as he slammed back against the railing, then flipped over into the ocean below.

  “Trent!” Kate cried. She looked and saw he had the flare gun in his hand. “You got him.”

  Eden stepped out of the helm room. “What the hell? Marc?” She aimed a gun at Trent and Kate. “Where is Marc?”

  Weaponless now as the flare gun’s one shot had been used, Trent and Kate backed away from Eden.

  “Your grandfather manipulated me, just like the rest of you. Blake’s been paid back for his treachery, and now you will be paid back, too. Your death will destroy James. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Cecilia’s pregnant with someone’s child that I’ll claim is yours, and we can keep this bastard tradition alive.”

  “Give it up. You’ll never get away with killing us, Eden,” Trent said. “The police know everything, and they’re on the way.”

  The gun shook in her hand. “They can’t prove anything.”

  “You have motive. You hated me and you hated Blake after he used you years ago to get company secrets. You tried to make him look like he sabotaged the company, when all along it was you and your assistant.”

  Eden shrugged. “I hoped you would kill each other. I’m glad Blake died at your hands.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Trent blasted. “He fell on the scaffolding that Marc rigged because you hired him to sabotage the building. Now put down the gun, Eden. You don’t even know how to use it.”

  Eden thrust the gun toward Trent’s heart. “Pulling the trigger shouldn’t be too hard. I didn’t do all this to let you live and prosper, while I go to prison. I hate you. You, your grandfather, and your cheating father.”

  Eden cocked the gun. Her heart hammering, Kate rammed into Eden with all of her strength to block the gun’s aim at Trent. The next thing Kate knew was excruciating, burning pain. So much, she fell to her knees.

  Trent dropped beside her on the deck and put his arms around Kate. “Kate, no! Why did you do that?” She barely heard him through her anguish.

  She clamped her hand over her upper arm. “I couldn’t let her shoot you.” she said, trembling all over.

  He staunched the flow of blood.

  “Enough of that nonsense,” Eden snapped. She’d recovered and now pointed the gun at Trent.

  Trent grasped the spear gun that lay nearby beside them on the deck and pointed it at Eden. “The Coast Guard is arriving. Put the gun down.”

  Eden glanced toward the horizon. The sun, coming up on the eastern horizon, sent fiery light across the water. The other Farrington boat was easily spotted on the ocean now. More boats were headed in their direction.

  She shook the gun at them. “Not before you die—and I’ll get away with it—or if I have to I’ll launch one of the yacht’s dingies. I’ll say Marc was out to do us all in. That he worked for Blake. They’ll believe me. That Mark killed my beloved son.” She put the gun closer to Trent’s head.

  “Don’t make me do this, Eden. I don’
t want to shoot you… I could have been your son—the son you wanted—but you just never loved me. In spite of everything and how you hated me, I loved you because you were my mother.”

  With a shaky hand, Eden pointed the gun at Trent. He aimed the spear gun at her as if equally determined.

  Coast Guard’s sirens blared. Their vessels roared toward the yacht and surrounded it. Bright lights flooded the yacht. Over a megaphone an officer yelled, “Drop your weapons. Put your hands over your head. Preparing to board.”

  Eden blew out a disgusted breath, “I can’t go to prison… You wouldn’t dare send me there.”

  She backed up and tripped. They watched her as if in slow motion as she soared backwards. She struck her head on the spike of the same anchor she and Marc had planned to use to drown Kate. Eden lay lifeless while blood pooled around her.

  Kate trembled in relief as Trent encircled his arms around her and brought her face to his chest in a protective gesture to shield her from the horror.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  An abundance of red roses abounded, and their sweet scent permeated Kate’s living room in her little bungalow.

  When the doorbell rang, Kate strode to the door. “Is he sending me more flowers?” she muttered to herself.

  She opened the door. Trent. His Porsche was parked in the driveway.

  “You’re finished with the police already?” she asked shyly as she stepped outside onto the porch. It was a beautiful, tropical December day in South Florida.

  “Yeah, and I’m looking for my wife.”

  “Trent, you don’t have to do this. You can have the divorce or annulment. I’ll sign the papers.”

  “I have other ideas of what I want to do with you.” He pulled her down on his lap on the porch swing. “The Coast Guard couldn’t find Marc Simpson’s body. Although with all the blood he was losing, they think it’s a sure thing the sharks got him.”

  Kate shuddered. “That’s what he planned to do with me—feed me to the sharks.”