Cassandra's Revenge [Golden Dolphin 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Skye Michaels

  “Oh, all right. God, you are a PIA, BFF.”

  “Me? A pain in the ass? Never mind. We’ll have a good time. Maybe you’ll get ‘lucky.’ You never know who you will meet—maybe the love of your life. He might be just around the corner, or aboard a yacht.” She laughed, and Cassie had to smile. Devon was such a good friend.

  “I doubt that, but okay. We have to figure out what clothes to take and all. We have to make a list. We’ll need stuff for poolside-deck—bathing suits, cover-ups, sunglasses, sandals, not to mention casual or sportswear for excursions, and evening wear, underwear, and definitely jewelry. Ha! Free advertising. Hell, it just might be fun. At least it’s something different.”

  Chapter Two

  Savannah Harbor on the Savannah River aboard the Golden Dolphin, May 10, 2014—Saturday Afternoon, Day One of the Cruise

  Cassie and Devon boarded the Golden Dolphin at the Savannah riverfront at a dock behind the warehouse location of the Le Club Waterfront-Savannah BDSM club. As with all the Le Club facilities, it was a very private club open to a select number of members interested in the “lifestyle” and their guests as well as members from other affiliated clubs around the country. Its existence was not generally known in the community. Confidentiality agreements and club rules had to be signed before anyone could enter the premises, and there was no identifying signage outside the building. Before she had visited the club for the first time, Devon had explained that the acronym BDSM stood for Bondage & Discipline, Dominance & Submission, and Sadomasochism, which included Dominance and submission, spanking, role-playing, bondage, and other assorted consensual sexual activities.

  Cassie had thought it a little strange that the girl she had played dolls with as a child would be into the lifestyle, but when she considered Devon’s rather unorthodox upbringing by parents who were trust fund babies and latter-day hippies, it sort of made sense. Cassie thought it was all the mixed messages. In any event, she had gone along just to see what it was all about. She hadn’t dipped her toe into the pool yet, but she wasn’t horrified by the whole idea. The thought of completely trusting another person, other than her family of course, was a far more frightening idea than the kinky sex itself.

  The Savannah River wharves and waterfront warehouses had been used for the loading of cotton for export to England and the offloading of import trade goods since Colonial times far before the Civil War, and the channels of the wide river had recently been dredged and deepened to facilitate river traffic.

  The Golden Dolphin departed on schedule at four o’clock that afternoon just after the lifeboat and safety drill had been conducted by Gregory Dempsey and Natasha Romanova, the safety and security officer and his assistant, on the top deck. It had included the introduction of the dark-blue rubber bracelets containing GPS chips and the passengers’ personal identification without which the passengers and crew would be unable to embark and debark from the ship. The bracelets allowed the crew to track their whereabouts either aboard or ashore. The passengers had been introduced to Saltydawg, the ship’s mascot, a mud-brown, portly English bulldog who had his own blue GPS collar. Salty made friends with everyone. The passengers had been invited to visit the bridge and meet all of the ship’s officers, some of whom would be participating in the BDSM activities aboard, as indicated by the rubber bracelet system explained in the Golden Dolphin Pleasure Club Rules and Regulations pamphlet to be found in each suite along with a selection of colored bracelets.

  Cassie and Devon had been assigned the twin, mirror-image cabins on the fourth deck. They were thrilled because even though the cabins were smaller, they would afford them more privacy than passengers sharing the fifteen lavish and much larger suites while still allowing them to open up the connecting doors and be together.

  After the steward delivered their luggage, they opened the connecting double doors between the cabins while they unpacked and checked out the accommodations. “This is gorgeous, Dev. I thought it would be much more cramped. This cabin is bigger than some hotel suites I’ve seen, and it even has a little sitting room and a private deck. Wow.”

  “I knew it would be luxurious. The ship’s owner, Jamie Devereau from Le Club Beaudelaire-New Orleans, has quite a reputation around the clubs. Apparently, he’s a wild and crazy guy, although I understand he recently got married. Too bad. I would like to have met him while he was still sowing wild oats.” Cassie giggled. Devon was definitely a free spirit. “What are you going to wear?”

  “I think the short, white silk dress with the ruffled skirt. What about you?”

  “I think I’ll wear the purple cami dress to match my hair and nails!” Cassie had to smile at that. Her BFF was colorful to say the least.

  “Well, let’s get dressed and get going. We should get up on deck for the cocktail hour before the dinner buffet. That will give us plenty of time to see who else is aboard. I want to check out all of those hot Doms you keep promising me.”

  * * * *

  Captain Con Cortelis and chief mate, Alex Dragados, stood on the bridge as the ship prepared to head down the Savannah River toward the Intracoastal Waterway and eventually the open ocean. At the first port of call, Key West, Florida, they would refuel, and the passengers could debark to enjoy the shopping, sightseeing, and fun available in The Conch Republic. Then they would head west across the Gulf of Mexico toward the island of Cozumel and the Yucatan Peninsula, which boasted numerous rich, pre-Columbian archeological sites to explore. On the return voyage they would hit a number of the Caribbean Island hot spots including the Cayman Islands, Jamaica, and the Turks and Caicos Islands.

  They had confirmed that the navigator had input way points for the voyage into the navigation system, and the route had been checked and double-checked against the paper charts. Engineering had confirmed that the reverse osmosis or RO units were online, the fresh water tanks were full, generators were operating at full capacity, and all was ready for departure. The galley was fully provisioned, and all equipment had been loaded and double-checked. The sixteen-day cruise was not as long as most of their voyages, but the logistics of providing all the needs of thirty-six passengers and twenty-one crew members was just as complicated for a short voyage as a long one.

  * * * *

  Once on deck Cassie had to admit that the Doms were, indeed, hot. The stewards were passing trays of mojitos, margaritas, martinis, and scrumptious hors d’oeuvres to the eagerly imbibing passengers. Someone else was driving the boat after all, and no one had to worry about how they were going to get home that night. They could all just stumble to their respective suites and fall into their extremely luxurious beds.

  Cassie looked around with interest and smiled to herself. This could be fun after all. She was just leaning over to whisper in Devon’s ear when her heart all but stopped in her chest. She turned her face away as she struggled to take a breath. She clutched Devon’s arm so hard it left fingerprints and said, “Dev…tell me that’s not Beau Bainbridge standing by the rail talking to that group of women. Please tell me that’s not him.”

  “Christ on a crutch, Cassie. It’s been what? Fifteen years at least since I’ve seen him, and that was only once. I was away at school most of the time you were dating him, but I think you’re right. Don’t look. Turn your back and let me watch him.”

  Cassie began to tremble. “I have to get off this ship. I can’t face him.”

  “Cassandra Caitlin St. Clare, where is your backbone? Are you going to let that bastard ruin our vacation like he ruined your prom night? Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing you recognize him. Lousy bastard. He deserves a kick in the balls. Don’t let him see you standing here shaking in your boots. Buck up. He’s the one who should be ashamed. Take some deep breaths and try to calm down. We’ll keep out of his way and just watch for the time being. If we have to abort this mission, we will.” As Cassie continued to shake, she said, “Come on, Cassie. Get it together. You can do this. I promise I won’t let you down, but let’s not jump to any conclusions
yet, okay?”

  “Okay for now. How far is it from the ship to the shore? I might have to jump.” Cassie could feel icy tendrils of hysteria gripping her heart.

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. It’s a freaking long way down, and I don’t want to be the one to have to tell Hedy and Mike that you jumped overboard. Geez, there are five decks. I’m sure we won’t be required to abandon ship.”

  The ship was making its stately way down the wide channel of the Savannah River toward the outer end of the jetties and the Intracoastal Waterway several miles below the waterfront terminals. Cassie was familiar with the route as she had traveled it many times with her father on their weekend fishing trips when she was a kid. Mike had taught her how to read the nautical charts and about celestial navigation. She knew they would be crossing the bar through Tybee Road to the jetties and then it was another sixteen miles to the main channel turning basin at King’s Island and the U.S. Route 17 highway bridge. The channel was well-marked by lighted ranges, lights, and lighted and unlighted buoys. Then they would be crossing the main channel of the Savannah River at Fig Island and going under the Eugene Talmadge Memorial Highway Bridge near the western edge of the city waterfront and also the railroad bridge over the Back River. Next they would proceed past Port Wentworth and the mouth of the Middle River and finally to Elba Island Cut where the Intracoastal Waterway left the Savannah River before passing the southern side of Elba Island. This all swirled around in Cassie’s mind as she visualized the charts in her head—anything to keep her mind focused while Beau was standing behind her talking to those women.

  As they sipped their drinks and nibbled canapés, Cassie watched Beau from the corner of her eye. He was as good-looking and self-assured as ever as he made the rounds of the women on the deck. Ha. Checking out the offerings no doubt. The bastard. Cassie had to concede that he had matured into a stunningly handsome man. She hated to admit it but she wished he’d grown a big ole wart on the end of his nose. He would definitely be in demand on this singles cruise. No doubt about that. His hair was still just a tad long, and his tall, muscular frame was complemented by the loose, white linen shirt he wore over dress slacks and alligator moccasins without socks. She remembered that he had never worn socks from that long ago summer at the country club. The breeze ruffled his slightly wavy, dark hair and molded the soft linen to his impressive chest.

  Oh, God. Here he comes. Cassie took a deep breath as Beau approached them. “Good evening, ladies. My name is Beau Bainbridge. And you are?” He looked first at Devon. Cassie had to laugh. The purple streaks in Devon’s hair were eye-catching.

  “I’m Devon James. I’m an interior designer from Savannah.” At his astounded look, she continued, “I don’t have to like every design I draft. I may prefer the Avant-garde or modern industrial look myself, but I can certainly appreciate and implement all styles and tastes.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you. One shouldn’t make assumptions on short acquaintance.” His voice was deep, and he still had that sexy Southern drawl. “Or judge a book by its cover,” he said under his breath.

  He turned to Cassie and smiled his devastating, dimpled smile at her. Cassie had always been a sucker for that smile, and she had to steel herself against it now. She was incredibly relieved and somewhat surprised that he didn’t have the light of recognition in his eyes. She noticed that he wore the black rubber bracelet of a Dom. That was definitely something new. Of course, all those years ago she had no idea there was such a thing as BDSM and doubted he did either.

  Before Devon could introduce her, she quickly said, “My name is Sandy Sinclair. I’m a jewelry designer.” She neglected to say she was from Savannah and just let the statement drift. He smiled at her again, but she didn’t return the smile. She could tell he didn’t recognize her. Well, it had been fifteen years, and she was no longer the hopeful and excited seventeen-year-old girl she had been on prom night. She had never gone by the name Sandy. His memory might have been jogged if she had said Cassie. She just hoped Devon had caught on and didn’t slip up and call her Cassie.

  “Excuse me a moment.” She turned and walked over to another group near the buffet table and insinuated herself into their conversation. She wasn’t usually so forward, and that wasn’t her personal style. She just had to get away from Beau. She would avoid him like the plague from now on and pray he didn’t remember her. There was a chance she and Devon could still enjoy this very expensive and luxurious cruise if she could just keep out of his way. It would be a shame to bolt now. Devon was right. She refused to let him ruin this cruise. He had taken too much from her already, and the bastard didn’t even remember her. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sad about that. Obviously, the hurt he had caused her hadn’t meant a thing to him all those years ago.

  * * * *

  Devon was worried about Cassie. She had caught the change of name, and when Beau turned to her with a questioning look on his face and a cocked eyebrow, she just said, “Oh, I believe Sandy knows them and wanted to say hello.” He was obviously not used to having women walk away from him. She bet they all usually hung on his every word. “So what do you do, Beau?” She might as well pump him for information while she had the chance.

  “I’m an investment banker in Atlanta.” She could see he was definitely puzzled and intrigued.

  “Your friend is very beautiful. Is she attached or involved with anyone at home? Is she a sub? I didn’t see a bracelet.”

  “No. She’s unattached…” She realized too late that she should have said that Sandy was dating someone. Rats. She had missed a good opportunity to throw him off the scent, but she couldn’t backpedal now. He was obviously baffled. She could see the effect he had on all—except for two—of the women aboard. She also knew why he was so interested in Cassie. She was stunning—tall and long-legged with healthy curves in all the right places. The bone structure of her face was a gift from the gods, and her soft, pillowy lips were naturally rose colored and inviting. Nothing needed to be said about her striking turquoise-blue eyes—they spoke for themselves, and the glorious crown of golden ringlets that framed her face and graceful neck completed the picture. Cassie could have been a model, but instead she made beautiful things with her hands. Devon guessed she had inherited that talent from her dad along with the wild blonde hair and turq eyes that had now taken on a slightly hard cast. Devon knew her own petite and curvy body and cute face were appealing, and she loved her best friend, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t kill for Cassie’s beautiful face and gorgeous body.

  Cassie—ha! Or should she say Sandy—had definitely grown into the coltish body she’d had as a teenager. It was fortuitous that she had worn her curly blonde hair wild and loose around her shoulders. If it had been straightened as it had been in high school or worn in her customary French braid, Beau might have recognized her. The damp air on the top deck made any attempt to control it useless. Devon had always loved Cassie’s wild mane of corkscrew curls even though Cassie hated it and had done everything in her power to straighten it, subdue it, braid it, or tame it in any way she could, all to no avail. It had a life and a mind of its own. Devon giggled to herself. Cassie’s hair should have its own zip code.

  “Ah…maybe she and I can get together sometime.” Not very freaking likely, Bozo. She couldn’t imagine that Cassie would let him get within spitting distance of her, never mind kissing distance. Devon didn’t know what to say to that, but she had to say something.

  “Sandy is new to BDSM. She’s only visited my club in Savannah a couple of times. I don’t know yet whether she will be wearing a red or green bracelet for the cruise. I think she’s planning to take the new sub training with Alex Dragados before she decides. Well, nice meeting you. I have to join our friends.” She walked over and joined the group Cassie was talking to.

  * * * *

  It wasn’t often Beau got the cold shoulder, and he was puzzled. He knew the people Sandy and Devon were talking to. They were members of his Le Club affiliate in
Atlanta, and he was pretty sure they didn’t know Sandy and her friend Devon. What the hell was that all about?

  Chapter Three

  Aboard the Golden Dolphin at Sea in the Atlantic Ocean, May 11, 2014—Sunday Morning, Day Two of the Cruise

  Cassie awoke and savored the glorious feeling of luxurious silk sheets against her naked body as she stretched on the queen-size bed. She had had a restless night and dreamed about Beau Bainbridge. He had been chasing a young and naked Cassie around the decks of the Golden Dolphin. She rolled over and looked out the sliding glass doors to her private deck and beyond. All she saw were the swells of the open ocean in the distance and the bright, blue sky. Hmmm. Breakfast on our private deck would be nice, but I guess we should go up to the top deck to see and be seen. This is a singles cruise after all. She opened the connecting door to Devon’s cabin and called, “Are you awake yet, you lazy woman. Get up and let’s get going!”

  “You are a heartless witch. Let me sleep. Aren’t we at sea today?”

  “We are, but I bet there will be tons of things going on.” She knew Devon was not a morning person like herself, and she gloried in waking her up early just for the fun of it.

  “What is with this change of attitude? I thought you were planning to hide out and keep away from Beau.”

  “I am planning to keep away from Beau, but I am not hiding. You know what they say. ‘Changes in latitude, changes in attitude,’ or something like that.” She laughed. “Seriously, I am going to enjoy this trip, and I plan to take the sub training. I think that starts this afternoon with that hunky chief mate, Alex Dragados, in the dungeon.”

  “That’s right, according to the itinerary on my coffee table. I think that’s a great idea,” she said encouragingly. “Beau was wearing a black Dom’s bracelet, so he won’t be participating in that, unless he’s a Master Dom and an instructor, which I doubt. He told me last night that he’s an investment banker in Atlanta.”