Harmon was looking pretty chipper after having been fed a decent dinner and now breakfast for the first time in several days. “I don’t have to sign that agreement. I’m going to make a fortune with those pictures.”
“What pictures?” Harper raised her eyebrows as if in consternation.
“The ones on my cell phone. What a bunch of perverted…”
“What cell phone, Harmon? I didn’t see any cell phone. Do you have it? Let me see the pictures.”
“They took my cell phone, and I want it back.”
Harper just looked at him like he was the stupidest human ever since men started walking upright. “You’re kidding, right? Do you honestly think you’ll see that phone again? If, in fact, there ever was a phone, which I sincerely doubt. As I said, I never saw a phone. It could be anywhere. Maybe in several thousand feet of saltwater by now. Who knows, what with all the excitement last night.”
Harper thought Harmon looked crushed. She had no doubt he knew she spoke the truth. He was probably imagining his precious cell phone floating down through thousands of feet of water to settle on the bottom of the ocean. He probably also saw a shark nose it around a few times before the screen light went out forever. Then he probably imagined the same shark nose him around as well…She could only hope.
“You know, Harmon, it’s quite common for ship’s masters and crew to dispose of the problem of alien stowaways over the side, so to speak. It avoids a morass of bureaucratic paperwork and repatriation and deportation expenses, which are unfortunately born by the ship owners. They usually are not anxious to extend hospitality to stowaways.”
She saw his Adam’s apple bob a few times. “You wouldn’t let them do that, would you? You couldn’t…”
“Harmon, I don’t think I could stop them if they decided to do that. I would strongly suggest that you sign the same confidentiality agreement your editor and publisher signed, in order to avoid an international incident. I can show you a copy of the signed agreement if you doubt me. If you show some good faith, I might be able to convince the captain to release you in Boston and not press charges. If you get off this ship without your ass in a sling, you should consider yourself lucky indeed. You have no idea of the precariousness of your current position—physically as well as legally. You could spend a couple of years in jail. To put it in the vernacular, Harmon, your ass is grass.”
He looked around the small cabin as though he expected to see an answer to his dilemma written on the wall. “What’s it going to be, Harmon? The captain has to turn the ship around and make for Boston, or continue on to Canada, where he can turn you over to the Canadian authorities as an illegal alien.”
He looked sick. Apparently he was watching his big windfall float away in his mind. “I’ll sign and get off in Boston.”
“You need to be aware that the ship’s owners, as well as the passengers, some of whom have very long reaches, take the terms of the confidentiality agreement very seriously indeed. Should you or your paper breach the agreement, the consequences would be very severe. I would sincerely advise you never to speak of this to a living soul. Forget it ever happened. You wouldn’t want to cross these people.” She grinned to herself as she continued, “Some of them have bent noses if you know what I mean.” That was totally untrue, but Jamie Devereau would get a kick out of being thought to be “connected” so to speak. The billionaire investment banker certainly had a kinky side. She smiled to herself. That might turn out to be Jamie’s next role-playing adventure.
* * * *
When Harmon was ushered off the Golden Dolphin later that night in Boston Harbor, he was only slightly the worse for wear. A couple of Greg’s special security team helped him down the gangplank and gently reminded him of what could happen should he break his confidentiality agreement or try to come back aboard the Golden Dolphin.
“Get out of here before we decide to give you a real lesson. There are no officers around now to save your sorry ass.” The AB called Sam was built like a brick shithouse, with bulging muscles, and he looked really intimidating.
“I almost had it all…What a bunch of perverts. I never saw anything like it.” He shook his head. He just couldn’t believe he had been so close to his dream and then lost it.
“Hey, asshole! That’s no news flash. It’s what people do. They sleep together and have sex. What’s your problem with that? There’s nothing new under the sun.”
“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you? Open your mouth about anything you saw aboard the Dolphin, asshole, and you’ll regret it. Rest assured the consequences would not all be ‘legal,’” the one with “Tommy” on his uniform shirt added.
They had put him ashore without his cell phone or camera equipment. He realized he was lucky he still had his skin in almost whole condition. He did still have his wallet with his driver’s license and credit cards, and he made his way to a coffee shop near the wharf where the Golden Dolphin was currently berthed. He had to figure out what to do next. He needed a new cell phone, first of all, and he had to get back to the city. He wondered if he still had a job. Cullen wasn’t going to be too happy with him. He had caused the paper a lot of trouble, and he had failed to get the story, and more importantly, the pictures to prove it. He wondered if there was any way to salvage any of this situation. From where he sat now, it didn’t look too promising. Son of a bitch. I was this fucking close, and now it’s all gone. If only I hadn’t waited to send some of the pictures to Cullen.
Chapter Fifteen
International Waters, on board the Golden Dolphin, November 17, 2013—Sunday Morning, Day Eight of the Cruise
The Golden Dolphin had bypassed the ports of Halifax, Sidney, and Charlottestown in order to make up the time lost in backtracking to Boston to unload Harmon Burke. Captain Cortelis was glad to see the back of him. The ship had entered the St. Lawrence River estuary and picked up a river pilot to continue on to their next port of call, Saguenay, Canada, expected arrival eight o’clock Monday morning.
Con turned to Alex. “We’ll hit Charlottestown, Sidney, and Halifax on the trip back down river. Thank God we’ll be officially back on schedule when we reach Saguenay on Monday morning. Devereau has arranged an impromptu stop at Sugarloaf Island Sunday night for a formal dinner and a visit to their dungeon to make amends to the passengers for all of the upset caused by Burke.”
“That should be interesting. Does that invitation include crew?”
“Yes. Anyone who wants to go is welcome to use the dungeon. The dinner is for passengers only.”
“That’s a relief. No monkey suit for me.” Alex grinned at Con.
Con had briefed Jamie Devereau and the company’s attorney, Jason Steele, on the Harmon Burke situation. Neither had been happy, and Con had not had a satisfactory answer as to how the stowaway had gotten aboard.
“I don’t know how he got on board, Con. The little wharf rat only admitted to slipping up the gangway when the guard on duty had turned away for a minute. That doesn’t sound right to me. The men on Greg’s security team are very vigilant. I’ve watched them.”
“Well, from now on, we’ll do a full sweep of the entire ship before leaving any port where we’ve been docked at a pier or wharf. Thank God for Harper’s legal counsel and that the passengers have been as understanding as they have been. They were promised absolute anonymity and privacy aboard the Dolphin, and we weren’t able to deliver that. I view that as a personal failure.”
“It could have been worse. This could have been a clusterfuck of major proportions if he had gotten an e-mail out before we got him. Those pictures could have been on the front page this morning. I’m glad Tasha had her eyes open.”
* * * *
Morgan and Harper shared a cup of coffee on the main deck with several other couples who were all waiting for breakfast to be served. They had been discussing the stowaway, and everyone was glad that no really serious ramifications had surfaced from his intrusion.
“Personally, Morgan, I’m n
ot sure we have seen the last of him. He thought those pictures were going to make him a fortune, and I don’t think he’s willing to give up on it.”
“I certainly hope you’re wrong. The amount of trouble he could cause would be astronomical.” Morgan could see the damage that would be done to a lot of people’s careers, should pictures from the ship find their way to the tabloid press, not the least of which would be Harper’s. Her firm was very conservative and traditional, to say the least. He was already known to be eccentric and didn’t have to rely on anyone else for his job or livelihood. That was not the case with a lot of the other passengers.
They had been watching the river pilot board the ship and now were enjoying the fabulous scenery along the riverbanks. The foliage colors, while definitely starting to fade, were still beautiful. Some of the trees were already bare, but others retained their red and yellow leaves. They would be traveling on the river all day Sunday, arriving in Saguenay, Québec on Monday morning. Morgan and Harper were both looking forward to the magnificent scenery in the Saguenay Fjord.
Natasha Romanova was making her way among the different tables to advise all the passengers that the ship’s owner, Jamie Devereau, had made special arrangements for any of the passengers who wished to go to visit a private island northeast of Saguenay that evening. Apparently, the island boasted a castle-type mansion that had been turned into a BDSM club, also loosely affiliated with the Le Club group. There would be dinner and an invitation to use the club’s dungeon.
Morgan looked at Harper and raised one eyebrow. He was letting her decide. She smiled at him and gave a slight nod. He could see that she was excited. They had slept together every night since Wednesday, and while Morgan had enjoyed the sex, he was anxious to scene with her again. He wanted to cement the progress they had made on Wednesday night before Harmon Burke had interrupted their evening. She had opened up to him a lot since their scene, but he knew there was more work to be done there. He wanted to help her forgive herself and jettison the unhappy memories that haunted her. He also wanted to teach her to accept as well as give pleasure in a scene.
They enjoyed watching the scenery and the wildlife and birds on the river. Once Harper thought she saw a beluga whale, but Morgan thought it was a little too late in the season. They enjoyed a late lunch in the master suite and took an afternoon nap. Both wanted to be fresh for the excursion to Sugarloaf Island. The dinner was black tie, so they would bring a bag with their dungeon clothes to change into later in the evening.
Chapter Sixteen
Sugarloaf Island, the St. Lawrence River in US Waters, November 17, 2013—Sunday Evening, Day Eight of the Cruise
That evening, Harper and Morgan were aboard the Riva on its second trip to Sugarloaf Island. The Golden Dolphin was anchored off shore of the island in deep water. The water at the island’s dock was not deep enough to accommodate the ship, and the river pilot and ship’s navigator wanted to avoid the rocks and shoals just below the water’s surface. The charts and chart plotter told them it would be wise to stay in or very near the main channel.
The view of Sugarloaf Castle from the top deck was beautiful. The setting sun shot sparkling shafts of light off the many mullioned glass windows. The gray stone castle had been built on the small island near the beginning of the last century by a wealthy timber baron and boasted a collection of turrets and widow’s walks. Although not technically part of the Thousand Island chain, which was located mainly southwest of Montréal, they could see several other small islands in the distance. The extensive gardens were still colorful, with plantings of bright fall flowers. The property had come to one of the club’s founding members by inheritance several years ago and had been renovated and converted to its current use as a private BDSM club.
“I have to tell you, Morgan, you look exceptionally handsome in that tux.” She reached up to kiss his jaw and run her fingers through the wavy black hair that was starting to get a little long and slightly shaggy. The classic lines of the traditional tuxedo with a cummerbund and bow tie suited him to a tee, and the black and white complemented his coloring. She enjoyed just looking at him—he was definitely a piece of eye candy, and she was ready to bite.
“And you look beautiful. I love your hair pulled back like that. It makes me want to kiss that long, graceful neck of yours—as well as certain other areas of your anatomy.” When he grinned at her like that and his dimples popped, she was putty in his hands. It was a good thing he didn’t know it. She wasn’t planning on letting him in on that little secret just yet.
“Well, apparently you are going to get your chance later tonight.” Harper smiled back at him. She had decided to wear a sleek, black silk halter dress with high slits on the sides and strappy, high black sandals. She wore a lightweight pashmina shawl to ward of the chill on the water.
After they had gone ashore, they made their way with the other passengers to the entrance of the castle and the grand hallway. The antique furnishings and oil paintings displayed over the mahogany wainscoting gave the room an elegant turn-of-the-century look. They were greeted by Jacques Dubois, the club’s manager, and ushered into the library for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Dinner would be served in the formal dining room.
Jacques gave them a brief history of the property. It had been built as a wedding gift for the timber baron’s fiancée, who had died in a riding accident before the wedding, and it was purported to be haunted. A shiver ran up Harper’s spine at that, and then she laughed at herself. That’s just plain silly. There are no such things as ghosts.
“There are also many secret passageways and hidden stairways throughout the castle. The castle’s ballroom has been converted into the main dungeon, and there are a large selection of private theme rooms and a costume department, all of which you are most welcome to use.”
Con and Casey, who were joining them for dinner, told them that Jamie Devereau liked to plan little side trips as surprises for the passengers. “He arranged a trip up river to a rubber plantation on the Amazon on our last trip,” Con said.
Casey grinned. “That was after one of our passengers was kidnapped in the central market in Santarém by her boss’s jealous ex-fiancée. That was hairy. Thank goodness Greg’s team was able to get her back unharmed. The moral of that story is ‘always wear your blue bracelet,’ whether it complements your outfit or not. If she hadn’t been wearing her bracelet, Greg would have had no way to locate her after her kidnapper took her upriver in a boat.”
After the delicious French cuisine and excellent wines, the ladies adjourned to upstairs bedrooms to change into their dungeon clothes while the gentlemen enjoyed cigars and brandy in the library. Harper had chosen a black leather bustier that laced up the front, a short black leather skirt to be worn sans underwear as required by club rules, and the spikey black heels she had worn with her gown. Casey and the other passengers wore a selection of BDSM wear ranging from leather to satin, all of it revealing and tight.
Gregory and Natasha had elected to remain on board the Golden Dolphin. The intrusion by the stowaway was still on everyone’s mind. Harper knew the captain didn’t want the ship to be left solely in the care of lower-level officers, stewards, and ABs while most were ashore on the island. Gregory Dempsey was currently looking into the installation of motion detection cameras on all gangways, tender garages, cargo bay openings, and passageways. Everyone agreed that Harmon Burke would probably have been spotted sooner if they’d had better surveillance.
* * * *
Morgan was waiting impatiently for Harper in the main dungeon. He was anxious to get started, and he wanted to see how much progress she had actually made since their initial scene together. The room was beautiful and well equipped with the standard BDSM paraphernalia. The walls were lined with an assortment of ornate gilt-framed mirrors to highlight the action in each scene as though it was happening on a movie screen. The effect was elegant and rather surreal.
When Harper entered the room, Morgan caught his breath. Her long,
silky black hair cascaded over creamy breasts pushed up into temping mounds atop her black bustier. He wanted nothing more than her mile-long legs wrapped around his waist while he fucked her until she was a boneless puddle in his arms.
He had donned his mask and stood with his arms crossed over his chest while he watched her scan the room looking for him. He knew it was an intimidating stance, but nonetheless, he felt her hot, challenging gaze as soon as her eyes found him. Her demeanor was not in the least submissive. Her icy-blue eyes raked over him in an almost insolent, if not hungry, gaze. He had known she had a deep well of grit, but this insubordination would have to be dealt with. Morgan immediately morphed into Dom mode and stood waiting for her to approach him. He had to get a grip and take control of the scene. He would remind her that he was the Dom and she was the sub, forcefully if necessary. He obviously still had her Domme mentality to deal with. She wasn’t going to give him her submission without a battle, and he was ready to storm her walls and take it. Morgan knew her underlying emotional problems were still there. They had not magically disappeared. He had to firmly rout them from her head and her heart. He knew that Harper would try to take control of the scene, but he couldn’t allow it. She was definitely the most challenging sub he had ever dealt with, and he knew it would take all of his skill to subdue her.
Michaels, Skye - Harper's Submission [Golden Dolphin 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 8