Watching Her

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Watching Her Page 9

by Harlem Dae


  After dumping my clothes and paraphernalia into a few cupboards and drawers, I headed into the bright sunshine.

  Marion and Sutton were still studying a map. Sutton had put on a pair of Raybans that had silver arms and a slight bronzy sheen to the lenses. I was glad he’d ditched the ridiculous over-sized ones.

  “Where are we heading?” I asked.

  “Clearwater,” Sutton said without glancing my way.

  “Clearwater? Florida?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Why?”

  “That doesn’t concern you.” Still he didn’t look at me.

  “Er, I think it does.” I frowned and put my hands on my hips.

  He straightened and set his attention my way.

  “This is my life,” I said. “And you’re supposedly protecting me. I think that gives me a right to know why I’m going to a random port on the west coast of Florida.”

  He kind of sighed. “It’s easy to get to from here, and there’s somewhere we can stay.”

  “Another hotel?”

  “No, a house. But we’ll have to keep our heads down. I don’t want us being noticed when we arrive.”

  “Noticed by who?”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “What?”

  He glanced at Marion, who was watching our interaction.

  What the hell has he told her?

  I pressed my lips together. My thoughts were swirling. He could have said anything, anything at all. And one thing was obvious, he hadn’t told her that he was rushing me away from a crazy Russian Albino who was bugging and stalking me.

  Why wouldn’t he tell her the truth?

  Because maybe it isn’t the truth.

  Nausea gripped my stomach, and the slight rocking of the boat made me giddy.

  I sat on the hard bench.

  “There’s food in there,” Marion said, pointing to a cool box by my feet. “Eat now before we get going if you’re going to spew.”

  “I’m not going to spew.” At least I hoped I wasn’t.

  Sutton pulled out his mobile phone and tapped the screen. He’d switched his polo for a plain black T-shirt, and I studied the way it hugged his shoulders and how the sleeves caught on his biceps. He was strong; there was power lurking in his body that I hadn’t particularly noticed before. If he truly was my bodyguard then I could have done worse.

  But what if he wasn’t? What if, as the Albino had suggested, I shouldn’t be trusting Sutton?

  What if Father had sent the Albino to protect me? Maybe he was my bodyguard and that’s why he’d left the device in my purse, so he could tail me. I thought back to the horrendous experience in the shantytown when I’d believed I’d been about to be raped and murdered. It was the Albino who’d been there to save me. If he’d been out to get me, he’d have let those men do his job for him.

  Nice and easy.

  Sutton hadn’t shown up until a few minutes later. It would have been too late if he’d been the one I’d relied upon for my safety.

  Some bodyguard.

  I popped the lid on the cool box and pulled out a chicken wrap that was stuffed with mayo the way the Americans liked so much. I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten, breakfast probably, and one thing that would make me queasy on a boat was hunger.

  Linus had returned on deck after storing my cases in Sutton’s crappy car. The boat was clearly big enough for me to keep my luggage, and I could only assume Sutton had some other reason for me not having my suitcases. More bugs and trackers? Or maybe Marion just had some weird thing about too much weight on her boat. I couldn’t be bothered to analyse the reasons anymore so shoved them from my mind.

  I bit into the wrap and felt Linus watching me as he set about his tasks—untying ropes, pulling anchor, and dragging the buffers over the side.

  “Are we leaving now?” I asked Sutton. It was an unnecessary question. The preparations were underway.

  “Yeah.”

  Should I be going with him?

  Possibly heading farther away from the man who was really there to save me?

  But why would Father hire a Russian? And one who was so strange-looking at that. Someone who stood out so much. He’d know that would make me uneasy.

  I finished my wrap and checked my lips for crumbs.

  Marion started the engine, and the exhaust coughed a few chugs of oily smoke into the air.

  I stared at the harbour while the puffs of smoke dispelled. If I were going to change my mind about going with Sutton, this was my last chance. I could just about make the jump now the gangplank had been stowed. Then I could sprint away, get lost in the village, and hide out till morning.

  My legs twitched; adrenaline spurted into my veins. The chicken spun in my stomach, and my thoughts were at war.

  Stay or go? Stay or go?

  “Don’t look so worried,” Sutton said, sitting next to me.

  The boat pulled away from the pontoon.

  I studied his face. I was unable to see his eyes, and my anxiety levels skyrocketed further.

  But it was too late now.

  I’d put my faith in him.

  “I’m not worried.” I hoped he hadn’t heard the shake in my voice. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was scared, out of control.

  “Good, because it will be fine. Marion is a very experienced sailor.” He paused. “As long as you don’t fall overboard, that is. The Gulf of Mexico is shark soup.”

  I suppressed a shudder. I’d seen the black tip and the reef sharks before. Their desolate eyes and sleek, silent way of slipping through the water gave me the creeps.

  Sutton was sitting stooped next to me, his forearms on his thighs and his hands dangling as Marion steered the boat into open sea.

  Soon, both she and Linus were hoisting the sails and the wind buffeted us along on our journey.

  “How long will it take?” I asked.

  “We’ll be there by morning.”

  “And then what?”

  “I’ll hire us a car.” He tapped the side pocket in his shorts that held his iPhone. “We’ll head north.”

  “How north?”

  “As far as possible. Now the tracking device has gone we should be able to shake him from our tail.”

  “Will I be able to source flowers on the way?”

  He twisted his neck to look at me. “That’s hardly a priority.”

  “It is for me. I’m supposed to be doing research for my business, you know. That’s why Father sent me on this trip.”

  He was silent.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Maybe there was more than one reason he wanted you away from Juniper Hall.”

  His words confused me. “What do you mean? Juniper Hall is my home. I’m perfectly safe there.”

  He turned away and appeared to study the polished wooden deck, his hair tousled by the wind now that we’d gathered speed.

  “Sutton. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated! Too damn right it’s complicated. You’re talking in riddles, you have from the beginning. Why the secrecy? Why the cloak and dagger? Just tell me straight: Why are you here? Why the hell am I here? And what is going on with the damn Albino?”

  “Calm down.”

  “No.” I stood. “I won’t calm down because…” I sucked in a deep breath. Shit. I’d shown him my hand. Now he knew that I was on the back foot, floundering, out of control.

  “Because what?” he asked.

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “Because I don’t fucking trust you, okay, Sutton. You’re shifty as hell.”

  “No I’m not.” He removed his glasses.

  Seeing his eyes, his kind eyes, made me feel marginally better, but I was on a roll. “What’s your real name? Where are you from? Why didn’t you tell Marion why you were whisking me from St Lucia to Clearwater?”

  “What has Marion got to do with anything?”

  “Who is she, really?”

&
nbsp; “The skipper of this boat, and I’m paying her to take us somewhere.”

  “With whose money?”

  “Mine… No, expenses. Your Father’s money. He’s given me cash to protect you.”

  “Hah. See? You’re getting in a muddle. Liars always do. You forget what’s the truth and what isn’t.”

  “Claudine.” He stood.

  “Don’t use my name. On here it’s Anna.” I stepped back, gripping the table. The boat was slicing through the water and stealing some of my balance.

  A knife, with jagged teeth, caught my attention.

  Should I stab Sutton? Take my chances with the Albino if I arrived in Clearwater and he was there waiting for me?

  But what if I’d taken out the man Father had sent to protect me?

  I was muddled, my thoughts jumbled and chaotic.

  I needed to know the truth.

  Is Sutton on my side or not?

  A wave of certainty washed through me. There was only one thing for it. I needed proof.

  I grabbed the knife and held it over the delicate underside of my wrist.

  “Fucking hell, Claudine, what the—?”

  “Am I really your job?” I asked, pressing the mean teeth against my skin. “Or are you an imposter?”

  He paled and held his hands out, fingers splayed. “Stop.”

  “Are you here to protect me or dispose of me?”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  He took a step closer, but I backed up, nearer to the stern. The cool side of the boat pushed onto my legs, exposed because of the wild flapping of my skirt.

  “Put that down for heaven’s sake.”

  “No.” I shook my head, pressed the knife harder into my skin. Tiny spots of blood appeared.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He lunged for me, but I dashed to the right and he missed me.

  “I guess we’ll see who you really are.” I pulled the serrated edge of the knife over my flesh. It tore angrily at my skin. I didn’t make the cut deep enough to sever anything essential, just enough to draw a bright stream of blood. “Either you’ll come and get me or the sharks will.”

  Flinging the knife to the deck, I twisted and propelled myself overboard.

  The churning ocean rushed towards me. I sucked in a breath and stretched out my arms.

  The chill of the water seemed to cut my skin the way the blade had. It bellowed into my ears and flashed between my legs. The cascade of bubbles that had accompanied me brushed over my cheeks as I kicked out and worked to reach the surface.

  Gasping in oxygen, I spun around, getting my bearings.

  The boat was still moving away from me.

  So that was it.

  I was a woman overboard and about to be forgotten. I’d be lost without a trace. But perhaps that was for the best. Father would likely be glad of not having the bother of me anymore. Sutton certainly would, and the Albino could go and find another rich girl to stalk.

  I huffed out my breath, emptying my lungs and making myself heavy. Shut my eyes and stopped all movement. Within a second I was submerged again, the biting cold of the sea slinking its strong arms around me.

  I saw her—blonde hair catching in the wind, smiling as she blew the seeds from a dandelion. Did she like to do that? Her eyes, blue the same as his, her skin dewy and soft. My greatest creation. My biggest regret.

  Suddenly a vice-like grip wrapped itself around me.

  I went to scream.

  My mouth filled with water.

  Shark?

  No. A person was dragging me upwards, to the surface, the force of their body and powerful kicks impossible to fight against.

  I didn’t want to…

  I didn’t want to die.

  Not really.

  Once at the top, I spluttered and coughed, dragged in air.

  Staring at me, eyes wide and hair flattened to his brow, was Linus.

  “Are you crazy? No, don’t answer that, you really fucking are,” Sutton shouted as Carpe Diem drew level with us.

  I didn’t answer.

  Linus helped me onto the swim deck, and then I stood, made my way to the seating area.

  My skin had bobbled with cold, and my chest was tight, my mouth full of bitter water.

  “Fuck.” Sutton reached for my forearm and pressed a towel over my cut wrist.

  The blood had mixed with the sea and it ran in a diluted rivulet to my elbow and dripped onto the deck.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” he asked angrily. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Why didn’t you jump in and save me?” I suppressed a shiver.

  “Because bloody Crocodile Dundee beat me to it.” He nodded at Linus, who was rubbing his hair with a towel.

  I pushed Sutton’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “But—”

  “I mean it, Sutton. Stay the hell away from me.” I wanted to add that he’d failed the test, but I didn’t have to, he knew.

  A flash of pain went over his face, then he turned away.

  Clearly, he couldn’t look at me now that I knew the truth. Either he wasn’t really my protector or he was a coward. Regardless, neither one was any good to me.

  “Here.” Marion held out a white bandage. “Let’s sort that out. Doesn’t look too deep, luckily, but that knife is for gutting fish, not for female histrionics. You’d do well to remember that, love.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered, allowing her to patch me up.

  Once she’d done, I glared at Sutton. He was sitting stooped again, arms resting on his legs. The boat was bobbing on the current, and the evening sun glowed golden on his skin.

  “I’m going to my room,” I said. “And I won’t be out till morning.”

  “I think that’s a good plan,” he mumbled.

  I looked at Linus and raised my eyebrows.

  “Go dry off, Linus, you’re dripping all over the place,” Marion said.

  Linus stepped past me. Disappeared below deck.

  I followed him, through the kitchen area and into my room. Once inside, I flicked the lock, sealing us in.

  The silence pleased me as I leant back against the door, not caring that I was still dripping. The boat shifted, the sails refilling. Soon we’d be speeding our way to Clearwater once more.

  Linus stood before me, smiling, his damp chest rising and falling with his fast breaths.

  “Thank you,” I said, “for saving me.”

  He shrugged.

  “But you’ll get more than words of appreciation from me,” I said. “I’m going to thank you with sex.”

  He shoved at his wet shorts—he wore nothing beneath—and kicked them aside. His thick cock sprung upwards, rising from a dark thatch of pubic hair that sparkled with water droplets.

  I smiled. This was my territory; this game I could play. I knew the rules.

  “Get on the bed.” I didn’t bother to keep my voice down. I couldn’t care less if Sutton knew I was fucking Linus. Sutton could go and screw himself for all that it mattered to me.

  With swift movements, Linus stretched out on his back. His feet hung over the end of the mattress, and his width filled the small area. It crossed my mind that it seemed an odd profession for such a big man, one that meant he had to live in such tiny spaces.

  Quickly, I slipped out of my clothes then manouevred onto the bed.

  Surprise stole his expression as I placed my legs either side of his head so that my salty cunt was just inches from his face.

  “Your mouth is useless for talking,” I said, looking down at him. “But does it know how to please a woman?”

  He nodded and poked out his tongue.

  “I like it nice and firm, and use your fingers, too. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

  He slid his hands up the backs of my thighs and scooped my buttocks into his palms.

  “And then,” I said, “I’ll make it good for you, really good.”

  I lowered, and the heat of his breath washed over my cool pussy.
Gripping the brass bar that circled the room, I stared out of the small porthole in front of me.

  While Linus spread a long, luscious lick over my folds, a pair of jean-clad lower legs appeared in the window.

  It was Sutton, facing away from me, looking out to sea.

  I ground my clit against Linus’ nose and held my breath as he jabbed his tongue inside me.

  The terror of moments ago, the images of her that had rushed through my brain when my life had unfolded before me, slipped away, forgotten.

  Chapter Ten

  We arrived in Florida unscathed. I said that because there had been a tempest during the night, the wind and rain sudden and battering the boat. We’d risen on the waves, and I’d stared at the ceiling, my stomach revolting at the undulations. I’d contemplated going to find Linus—for comfort, that’s what I’d thought at first—but realised quite quickly that we’d have ended up having sex again.

  And we’d done it once, gone for it like a couple of rabbits, every position we could think of including one that was new to me. The fucking Linus box had been ticked, well and truly.

  The boat was now moored at a private pier, a sleek white wooden jetty with one other boat tied to it. We were obviously somewhere exclusive; millionaire row on the riverside. And it was quiet, too, no one around, just a pair of pelicans sitting on posts that rose from the water near the bank.

  Had Father instructed Sutton to take us to this place, away from prying eyes? Or had Sutton come up with it all by himself?

  I stood on deck, waiting for Sutton to join me. I could have stepped off the boat, gone to stand on the jetty, but, much to my chagrin, I was apprehensive about doing that. Which annoyed me. I’d always gone into things at one hundred miles per hour, and this stalling, this tapping my feet to the brakes was anathema.

  I supposed I’d have to get used to it until I could return to normal living.

  Linus was busy at the stern, performing some task or other essential to docking, I was sure. I had no idea where Marion was. For all I knew, she could be below deck giving Sutton the time of his life. A pinch of jealousy griped my insides at the thought of that.

  Was she his type? Really and truly? Did her dumpy legs and pot belly really do it for him?

  I couldn’t believe that for a second.

 

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