On a perfect morning, Patricia woke up feeling unusually energetic, restless, even excited at the thought of getting back to work. Sitting up, she stretched with a soft yawn, her arms reaching toward the ceiling as her eyes slowly fluttered open to soak in the morning light.
But sothing didn’t feel right.
She blinked, her smile fading as she looked around. The room wasn’t familiar. Her brows furrowed, and a sense of unease crept over her. Was she still dreaming? Shaking her head, she closed her eyes tightly, slapped her cheeks twice, and opened them again.
Still the sa room.
Panic seized her chest. Was she kidnapped? That thought alone jolted her upright as she scanned her surroundings in alarm. But the space was... luxurious. Expansive. Feminine. There were beauty essentials scattered neatly across the vanity, and at the far end, a wardrobe sat half-open, one of her nightgowns hanging inside.
Her nightgown?
What kind of kidnapper brings along your clothes? Sothing wasn’t adding up.
But unease still lingered, especially when she felt a strange, gentle rocking beneath her feet. She turned in search of the door, imdiately heading toward it, hoping to find a way out.
Just before she reached it, the door burst open.
She gasped, instincts flaring, ready to bolt, until her eyes t a familiar face.
"Zara?" She called out cautiously, her heart still racing as she tried to process what she was seeing.
"Oh yes, you haven’t been kidnapped," Zara bead, striding past her and sweeping the heavy curtain aside. A cascade of sunlight poured into the room, revealing a breathtaking view beyond the glass.
"We are on a yacht-cation!" She declared, arms stretched wide as she took in the vast horizon with a grin.
Patricia stepped forward, montarily forgetting everything. Her eyes softened at the sight of the playful fish darting across the waves, the sea glittering beneath the sun’s warm kiss. The ocean spread out endlessly in every direction, and her heart swelled with a calm she hadn’t realized she needed.
It was beautiful. Too beautiful. And oddly perfect.
But the peace didn’t last.
Her gaze shifted to Zara, confusion returning. Why was Zara here? And why were they on a vacation together? Sothing didn’t add up.
"How did I get here?" Patricia asked, her voice edged with concern. "The last thing I rember was going to bed. How did we end up here?"
Zara turned with a knowing smile. "Ah, I thought you already knew. Apparently, your husband’s family and their close family friends go on a vacation every year. Two full weeks. There are four other families apart from the Blackthorns... well, five now, since your family’s tied to them."
The last part was said with clear disapproval, and Patricia’s joy dimd just as fast. Her family? On this yacht? The thought alone made her stomach turn. If they were here, it wouldn’t feel like a vacation. It never did with them around, it always beca about them.
Sensing the mood shift, Zara stepped closer and wrapped her arms gently around Patricia’s waist. "Don’t worry," she whispered. "I made Roman promise not to let them bother you. It was my condition for coming aboard."
"He invited you?" Patricia asked, shocked. Roman and Zara had never exactly been fond of each other.
Zara smirked. "Yeah. Said he wanted you to have soone familiar around. But honestly..." she shrugged, "it felt like more than that."
Patricia stared at her, surprised and a little touched, but didn’t know how to respond.
"Anyway," Zara said, playfully eyeing Patricia’s thin nightgown, "we are having a feast soon. Freshen up and co outside for so air. The sea’s too pretty to waste." She winked before strolling out of the room.
Patricia looked out once more, the ocean calling to her. Despite everything, the corners of her lips curled up again.
Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Looking down at her nightgown, Patricia just realized how open it was, barely clinging to her skin and she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her heart skipped a beat.
Wait... who had carried her here?
Her senses kicked in and flashes ca back to her, vague, disjointed. Soone had lifted her in their arms, soone strong. And unless a ghost had done it, the only person in that house with such a build was Roman.
Her jaw tightened. That cunning man! He could have simply woken her instead of carrying her out like a helpless doll.
Then again... he had ntioned a vacation five days ago in the kitchen. She hadn’t taken him seriously then, too much had been going on. Still, a little warning would have been appreciated.
But what was done was done.
At least he wasn’t introducing her as his wife, so she wouldn’t attract too much attention. Michelle was probably sowhere on this yacht too. Patricia figured it was best to keep her distance. With both of them around, this floating paradise could turn into a silent battleground. If she went missing out here, her body could disappear into the ocean without a trace.
Shaking the thought off with a sigh, she padded across the room and headed for the bathroom, eager to rinse away the remnants of sleep and the uneasy thrill that had settled in her chest.
...
anwhile, elsewhere on the yacht, Zara had her own plan in motion.
She had changed into a sleek, figure-hugging gown, light as silk, and only she knew she wore nothing underneath.
Silas had proven slippery, but this ti, she was determined to catch him.
He wasn’t in his room, nor anywhere obvious. A helpful maid had ntioned seeing him head to the wine cellar, so Zara adjusted the hem of her gown and made her way down.
When she reached the cellar door, she paused. No footsteps, no voices. Quiet. Perfect.
Slipping inside, her eyes found him instantly, tall, focused, holding a bottle and reading the label like it held a secret.
She leaned lazily against a shelf, one bare leg sliding out through the slit in her gown, her voice low and teasing.
"Are the words that hard to read?" She asked.
Silas turned and frowned when he saw her. His gaze dropped to her exposed leg, and sothing flickered in his eyes. A mory, a flash, maybe even a desire he had tried to forget.
Pretending not to see her, he looked away and walked off in the opposite direction.
But Zara was quicker.
She caught up in a breath, wrapping her arms around him from behind, her chest pressing lightly into his back.
"You can run," she whispered, her voice thick with heat, "but you can’t hide."
Then her hand slid down slowly, deliberately and when her palm closed over his arousal, a soft moan slipped past her lips.
"Mmm... already hard for , huh?" She teased, her voice lting into seduction, brushing the edge of his restraint.
"Let go," he muttered, prying her hands away, though his breath caught at the contact. "You shouldn’t be doing this here, there are families on board."
"And yet," she purred, undeterred, "it’s just the two of us in this cellar. Unless you would rather we take this to your room?"
She stepped in front of him, her fingers curling into his tie, dragging him down to et her gaze.
"I want you," she whispered, lips brushing his chin, "inside . Now."
Then, with a mischievous smile, she pulled hard, catching him off balance and sending them tumbling to the floor. She landed on her back, and he fell on top of her, breathless and stunned.
Her legs wrapped around his waist like muscle mory.
No more running. Not this ti.
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