Her heart pounded in her ears as she strained to hear sounds from the bathroom. Only the familiar groans of the ship, and the titter of a woman’s laughter from the hallway, broke the silence. Rain beat a rat-a-tat on the glass. The seconds dragged. Slowly, the bathroom door squeaked open.
Someone was in there.
The envelope slipped from her icy fingers and she ran. The lock clicked into place behind her as she hurried from the cabin. Exhaling a pent-up breath, she turned to run, but the hem of her robe snagged in the closed door. She tugged, but couldn’t free herself and didn’t have her keycard. She glanced down the hallway. It was empty so she tore off the robe and left it behind.
Appearances were the furthest thing from her mind as she made her escape.
Cool air hit her bare skin as she ran the few steps to Robert’s suite.
She pounded on the door. “Robert. Open the door. Please.”
When he didn’t answer, she wrenched the knob. Locked. She shot a glance toward her cabin. The door remained closed. She choked out a sob, relieved that she’d not been followed.
She couldn’t run through the halls of the ship dressed in her underwear so she needed to get into a cabin and call security.
She tried the door across from Robert’s cabin. It opened, and she lurched inside. Crouching down, she leaned against the door, her breathing rapid. The room spun.
Calm down. As she scanned the room, she forced herself to breathe evenly. A man’s white dress shirt lay on the satin comforter and a suitcase stood nearby on the floor. The bathroom door was closed.
She rose on shaky legs. “Hello?”
When no one answered, she exhaled and crossed to the desk where she found the ship’s directory card and security’s telephone number. She reached for the phone.
“Oh, this one is really good,” said a man with a deep polished English accent, from behind her. “Much better than a fruit basket.”
The receiver slipped from her hand and clattered onto the desk. She whirled to find the most handsome man she’d ever seen standing at the bathroom entrance. Every worry she had, left her on the exhale as she stared at him.
At least six feet tall, the Adonis raised muscled arms and casually towel-dried his dark blond hair. He looked to be in his late twenties, and he wore only a white towel draped around his sleek waist and hips.
He leveled his aqua-blue gaze on her. “Should I give my compliments to the captain? Or is this what thieves are wearing these days?”
Disoriented, she stared. Then remembering she wore only her new Victoria’s Secret bra and panties, she clamped her arms across her chest. “I...”
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Disguised with the Millionaire (Dangerous Millionaires Series Book 2) Page 39