Peyton’s Price: A Singular Obsession Novel

by Leroux, Lucy

  “Liam is going to kill me,” Trick muttered under his breath as his sleek Bugatti prowled through the piles of crates and shipping containers like a spaceship from another world. “And when he’s done, Maggie is going to have a turn. She’s had enough nightmares about you going missing as it is.”

  Peyton winced, clutching the Caislean-branded duffel bag to her chest. It held all her worldly possessions—a few changes of clothes and her passport, which had been waiting for her on the desk in the suite. “I promise I’ll call her as soon as I can.”

  She should have promised to call Liam, too, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Maybe someday he’d understand.

  “You better,” Trick sighed. “Are you even sure the Ormen Lange is still here? When we asked the guard back there, he didn’t seem to know what we were talking about.

  “I’m sure,” Peyton said. It was crazy, but she did believe it. Matthias was waiting for her. It was the only thing she was certain of.

  Trick studied her with troubled eyes. He didn’t have to say it aloud. Trick thought the boat was long gone. The gate guard hadn’t recognized the name. If a mega-yacht were parked at his work, he’d remember the name, wouldn’t he?

  Doubt trickled down her spine like sweat. She tightened her grip on the bag. He’s here. He has to be.

  It wasn’t until the low-slung Bugatti turned the corner that the Ormen Lange came into view. It rose up like a behemoth in front of them, tied to a massive yellow cleat at the end of a long pier.

  Peyton lunged forward, inadvertently straining the seat belt too hard across her chest.

  “Holy shit. It’s still here,” Trick said as he steered the car closer to the pier. “I was almost hoping it wasn’t.”

  “But it is.” Eyes dancing, she gave him a shaky grin and unbuckled her belt.

  He bit his lip, gazing from her to the boat and back again. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”

  Her heart was beating so loud she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. “I am. Are you going to try to stop me?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  His smile was sad. “Because I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

  Peyton threw herself at him. The long divider that separated the seats dug into her side, but she didn’t care. “Trick, you’re the best brother I never wanted.”

  He sniffed loudly. “I love you, too, pigpen.”

  Peyton pulled away from him with a watery grin. Trick hadn’t called her that in years. He tugged her toward him, planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m sorry for the way this ended up. You deserve so much better than my brother, but I didn’t warn you off because, well, I guess I wanted you to be my sister for real.”

  This time, her tears were happy ones. “Trick, I am your real sister.”

  Then she smacked him on the shoulder. “And stop acting like you’re never going to see me again. Despite what you read on the internet, the earth isn’t flat. The boat isn’t going to fall off the end of the world.”

  He snorted and nodded, his eyes gravitating to the glowing lights of the Ormen Lange. “Are you sure he’s expecting you?”

  Peyton raised a brow, and he chuckled silently. “All right. You’re sure. He better take good care of you.”

  She opened the door. “He will,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Trick followed suit, climbing out of the car and looking at her over the top. Peyton slung the strap of the duffel bag. “Maybe I should go with you. Give him hell like a big brother should.”

  She tapped the top of the car with the flat of her hand. “Trick, go home to your pregnant wife. I’ll be fine.”

  “You know, I think I believe you.” He smiled, but it waned quickly. “I just wish I could say the same for the rest of us.”

  Smiling, Peyton dipped her head. She started walking down the pier. But, before she knew it, she started running and laughing as she waved goodbye.

  Trick still stood at his open car door when she disappeared inside.

  * * *

  The porter at the door of the Ormen Lange took one look at her and stood back, admitting her aboard with a respectful bow. That was the easy part. It was dinnertime, so she searched for Matthias in the dining room, but it was empty. So was the pool, the gym, and, according to one of the steward’s, he wasn’t in his office.

  In the end, Priya found Peyton wandering the second deck. Priya took pity on her by leading her to Matthias’ stateroom, which occupied the entire prow of the third story.

  “Through there,” Priya said, pointing at the deck outside the French door, disappearing like a genie before Peyton could casually ask if Matthias had delayed his departure for business reasons.

  Heart pounding, Peyton stepped outside on the deck. Matthias was across the deck at the railing that faced the open sea. He stood still, but there was tension in his posture.

  At least he’s alone out here, she thought as she inched toward him. Imagine if she’d done this and he’d been entertaining another woman. Or a man. Now that would have been awkward.

  Her strangled laughter carried in the wind. Matthias started, spinning around, his face slack in surprise.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She stopped short, stricken into immobility. The hurt must have shown on her face because Matthias rushed to her side, reaching out to grasp both her arms. “I didn’t mean it like that, Peyton. I’m thrilled to see you. It’s just—well, why aren’t you with Liam?”

  Peyton shuddered, covering her beat-up heart with her hand. The poor organ couldn’t take many more of these jolts and shocks.

  She cleared her throat. “I assumed the Ormen Lange was still in port because you were waiting for me. I’m sorry that was presumptuous.”

  Matthias tilted his head. “I was waiting for you.”

  “Oh. Good.” Peyton stared up at him. Despite the shadows under his eyes, he looked amazing. She scowled. “Then don’t scare me like that.”

  Matthias moved to caress her hair. “I was only going to give you one more day, or so I told myself. I didn’t think you would come. Did Liam not call off the wedding?”

  “Nope.” She smiled.

  Matthias seemed genuinely confused. “Why not?”

  “Because the stars haven’t realigned.” Sighing, she shrugged, twisting to put her hand on his arm. “You just have to accept it… He’s not coming back to you,” she said softly.

  He laughed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  She dropped her eyes, focusing on the tantalizing bit of his chest visible underneath the small gap at the top of his button-down shirt. “You were wrong.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  He seemed so certain, but Peyton didn’t know how to convince him so.

  “What is it they say about one man’s trash being another man’s treasure?” She grimaced. “Not that you think I’m treasure or anything like that.”

  His smile was wry. “Well, you were very expensive.”

  Blushing, Peyton tried to cover her face with her hands, but it wasn’t easy. Matthias still held both her arms.

  “Peyton, to me, you are worth any price—a prize beyond measure. It’s obvious to anyone who meets you. And you can be damn sure Liam knows your value, too. He’s just too pigheaded to admit it. I don’t know what his problem is, but, and please pardon my language, fuck him. He had his chance.”

  His lips came down on hers—the briefest of kisses. But he raised his head before she even realized what was happening.

  Matthias fished his phone out from his pocket. “Captain Nilsen, this is Raske. Pull up anchor. We’re leaving. Now.”

  Peyton blinked at his hard tone as he hung up the phone. “What’s the rush?”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “You may not believe this, but Liam will come for you. So we’re not going to be here. Like I said, he had his chance.”

  More like a
lifetime of them. She would have argued he was wrong, but Matthias tugged her closer, putting both hands on either side of her face. His mouth came down again, demanding and hard.

  Overwhelmed by a feeling of gratitude, Peyton melted. The heat between them was real, and it was fierce. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue dipping into her mouth, and she moaned, clinging to him.

  He made a little sound and pulled her closer, obliterating all coherent thought. The fire burned away the past. Peyton forgot how they met, and who he’d been with before her. She even forgot she was supposed to be suffering from a broken heart.

  Chapter 20

  Liam shoved the stack of china pattern and flower catalogs aside. Why couldn’t Caroline keep all this damn wedding paraphernalia off his desk? She had been back less than a day, and they were already taking over again.

  Not to mention the fact there was an exceptionally large and empty coffee table at her disposal in front of the couch in the corner. Or better yet, she could leave these with his assistant. It wasn’t as if he were going to choose the bloody flowers. He had to work. Caroline knew that, and she’d agreed—repeatedly—to handle all details.

  He finally dug up the contracts he was searching for under a stack of upholstery samples. “What does she need those for?” he grumbled before giving up and tossing the lot on the shelves behind him.

  Liam settled down to work, but he stopped a few minutes later, unable to focus on the intricate clauses of the deal in front of him.

  Yanking at his tie, he all but strangled himself in his haste to get it off. Why was he having so much trouble?

  Yes, it had been a hellish few weeks. Peyton going missing had been a nightmare, but he’d gotten her back. It had only taken him betraying his personal convictions to do so, but screw it. Peyton was back, and she was safe. He could sleep again.

  So what if he got up a few times a night to make sure she was in her bed? She never woke up when he came in, not even last night when he’d reached out and touched her lips.

  I was only checking to see if she was breathing. “Fuck,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. He had to stop doing that.

  Eyes still closed, he noticed the silence for the first time. He checked his watch and the empty couch. Where the hell was Peyton? For the last few days, she had been camped out in his office, reading quietly in the corner so she wouldn’t disturb him while he worked.

  Well, you knew it was only a matter of time before she stopped that. Peyton couldn’t stay idle long. He’d heard Sam asking for her help on updating the security feeds just yesterday. No doubt she was helping him.

  Those small tasks weren’t going to keep her occupied for long. Trick was right. Peyton needed more of a challenge. He didn’t want her running back to Silicon Valley as soon as the coast was clear.

  How was he going to keep her here? A sneaky voice whispered in his head, You could start by not marrying Caroline. Liam gripped the pen so hard it broke.

  “Damn it, not again.” Where the hell was Constanza ordering these pens? They needed a new supplier, one that didn’t sell crap.

  His brother blew in like a storm gale. Trick grunted a greeting, closing the door. He went straight to the bar.

  “Hello to you, too,” Liam said, wondering if he and Thalia had a fight.

  His brother’s bride was the most even-tempered sweetheart Liam had ever met. Thalia was the most perfect sister-in-law he could ask for, but since falling pregnant, she’d developed the distressing habit of crying at the drop of a hat. His brother, an enthusiastic father-to-be, took every unfortunate episode in stride, so whatever was bugging him now was bigger than that.

  And that meant the fight was his brother’s fault. Liam waited, ready to read his brother the riot act for Thalia’s sake, when Trick spilled his favorite scotch all over the table.

  Hell. This fight must be a bad one. But Trick settled on the couch instead of running after his runaway bride, so it would eventually blow over. “What did you do?”

  “I drove.” Trick waved the full glass of Scotch at him.

  “Don’t spill on the leather,” he said, glancing down at the contract he hadn’t read.

  Trick ignored him, downing half the contents of the glass. “Congratulations by the way.”

  “For what?”

  Tricks’ eyes narrowed, but his expression wasn’t hostile. More like resigned. “For driving away the only woman who will ever truly love you as you are.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m supposed to forgive you by the way, but I don’t feel like it at the moment, so let’s table that until tomorrow.” Trick downed the rest of the glass. “I don’t know when Maggie will forgive you, but Peyton was right. We have to accept Caroline and move on.”

  Liam sat up straight. “Wait, what about Peyton?”

  His brother rubbed the rim of his glass, but he only succeeded in making a terrible squeaking sound. “She’s gone.”

  “Shit!” Liam bolted upright, grabbing his coat. “Where the hell did you take her? The airport?”

  Was she returning to California? Had she not taken Priya’s advice to heart? It was too soon for her to reconnect with her old life.

  “You can forget that. Where she’s gone, you can’t follow. Matthias will make sure of that.”

  Liam froze, then scowled. “Wait, are telling me Matthias is behind this? Did she ask him to set her up somewhere else?”

  Fuck. He should have known. Peyton was too independent for her own good. She hated depending on anyone. After getting kidnapped, she was going be forced to start over, but the hardheaded woman was determined to do it all on her own.

  “No, jackass. She left with him.”

  Liam blinked rapidly, a narrow but endless pit opening in his stomach. He couldn’t say anything, but his brother didn’t require an answer.

  “Peyton has sailed off into the sunset in search of a happily ever after—literally,” Trick said.

  “With Matthias?”

  Trick gave him an incredulous look. “What did you think was going to happen when you called in a young and conveniently single Nordic billionaire to come to her rescue?”

  Liam stared at his brother, but it was as if his voice were coming from a long distance away. “Not Matthias. That just isn’t possible.”

  Trick threw up his hands. “Un-fucking-believable.”

  Liam shook his head again, even though it was making him dizzy. “Peyton can’t leave.”

  Disgusted, his brother sighed and stalked to the door, throwing it open.

  “Liam, stop being so fucking dense. She’s been in love with you her whole life, and you’re getting married to someone else. All these efforts to hold onto her are only hurting her. Cut her loose. She deserves a chance to be happy, too.”

  The door closed behind Trick a moment later. Liam pushed away from his desk, then grabbed his coat. He didn’t know where the hell he was going, but he couldn’t stay here.

  Chapter 21

  Peyton stretched out in the sun under the white sheet, glorying in the luxury of a professional massage under the Caribbean sun.

  Hmm, this is the life. It was mid-November and she was basking outside, surrounded by crystal-blue water while being rubbed down until she was almost boneless.

  “Please turn,” the masseuse said in an accented voice Peyton couldn’t pin down.

  Approximately half Matthias’ staff hailed from Scandinavian countries, mostly his home Norway. But the other half was a mixed bag. Priya was born in Bangladesh, while Polina and Demetre were from Estonia and Georgia, respectively. She thought Ha-eun, the boat’s masseuse, mentioned she was Korean, but once the massage started, she stopped talking, only responding to questions with low hums of acknowledgment.

  She would ask Priya later, Peyton decided as she flipped over on the table. Ha-eun adjusted the sheet over her naked body, taking care to preserve her modesty in case another staff member interrupted—not that they would dare. When Matthias welcomed h
er aboard, he made a ship-wide announcement she would be his guest indefinitely.

  At first, Peyton had been nervous, concerned the staff would continue to act the way they had during her first voyage. But this time around, they seemed far more relaxed, as if they had realized her return was a sign that the underground—overwater?—railroad wasn’t restarting.

  Oiled-up and deliciously relaxed, Peyton let her mind drift as her body was kneaded and pulled like taffy by Ha-eun’s skilled and strong hands.

  Speaking of which. Peyton’s lashes fluttered open, startled as those hands moved under the sheet, grazing the tops of her nipples. She almost giggled aloud, but then it happened again.

  Blushing, Peyton held her breath, but the contact didn’t happen a third time. The massage ended soon after. Gathering the sheet close around her, she thanked Ha-eun in a rush, nodding and ducking into Matthias’ stateroom just as he walked in.

  He looked good enough to eat. His suit was linen in deference to the warm weather, but it was neatly pressed and fresh-looking as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a high-end magazine, summer edition.

  Still red in the face, Peyton turned to peek out onto the deck, making sure Ha-eun had departed before hurrying to him.

  “You’re not going to believe this.” She laughed, her tingling breasts growing heavier at the sight of him. “I just got felt up.”

  Matthias paused. “Did you get a massage from Ha-eun?”

  Peyton gaped. “You know?”

  “That she has a habit of tweaking certain portions of the female anatomy? I heard a rumor about it, but it’s been years since anyone has mentioned it. I thought she had stopped.”

  “Well, well…” Ha-eun had struck her as proper and self-effacing, but what did Peyton know? She’d just met the woman. Then she wrinkled her nose, scowling at him. “Is she perhaps in the habit of giving you a special massage? The kind that end ever so happily?”

  “No,” he said, laughing.

  “And I’m supposed to believe you why?” she asked, the corner of her mouth turned up.