Quiver (a Suspenseful Romance Novel)

Quiver (a Suspenseful Romance Novel) by Emilia Beaumont

Book: Quiver (a Suspenseful Romance Novel) by Emilia Beaumont Read Free Book Online
Authors: Emilia Beaumont
with a special key he plucked from his pocket.
    We stepped into a generous sized cabin, complete with a large bed, varnished cabinets, a small seating area and its very own porthole.
    “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back later.” And without another word, he left the room and locked the door.
    I ran to pull on the handle; it was useless. It wouldn’t move, and the lock mechanism inside the door wouldn’t budge. I rattled it, hoping he’d hear the noise and come back. I rushed to check the porthole on the other side of the cabin; it, too, was completely sealed.
    Trapped and defeated, I sat on the edge of the bed. The luxurious sheets, no doubt boasting a high thread count, crinkled under me.
    The activities of the night and morning had taken a huge toll on me, and it was catching up fast; I could barely keep my eyes open. I tried to resist the temptation to rest my head upon the inviting pillows, but sleep called my name and pulled me down without mercy. I yielded and told myself I’d be better off having a quick nap to recover, and before I knew it, I’d drifted off to sleep.

----
    T he cabin was encased in shadow when I woke up. I felt disoriented, and a rush of fear raced through me as I tried to remember where I was, as I didn’t recognise my surroundings.
    Reflections from the outside bounced around the room through a porthole above me. My sleepy mind finally caught up with day’s events as I breathed slowly to calm myself down. I must’ve slept for hours, I thought. I looked around for a clock but found nothing. My wrists were bare; I never wore a watch, and I’d unwillingly left my bag, with my phone buried in it, at the office.
    Taking a quick glance out the porthole, I could see the ship’s lights, white and twinkling upon the river’s surface. I was on the port side, looking out towards the opposite bank of the river. People in party dresses, suits, and Saturday night outfits were making their way across the bridge, heading for a night of drinking and dancing upon The Boat.
    That put the time well into the evening, I thought. How could I have slept for so long?
    There was no sign of Max. The room was still; nothing had been moved. It was exactly how it had been when he left. Had he washed his hands of me? Abandoned me? Given instructions to his thugs to deal with me?
    I had no idea how long I would have to wait to find out my fate, but I knew I couldn’t just sit here doing nothing. I resolved to make myself busy; even if that just meant cleaning myself up. Finding the light switches, I proceeded to strip and let my clothes fall to the plush beige carpet. I left a trail of clothing behind me as I made my way to the small but luxurious bath and shower room. White Italian tiles covered the floor and walls, and chrome fixtures reflected the light. I headed straight for the walk-in shower.
    I let the hard pressure of the hot water wash away the filth that clung to me. It would be good to feel clean and innocent again, I thought. The complimentary shampoo and shower gel frothed to life, creating suds all over my naked body. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was in some expensive hotel or on a grand yacht, holidaying in the Mediterranean.
    The subtle click of the cabin door closing brought me reluctantly out of my daydreams.
    Max stood leaning against the bathroom doorway, his eyes fixed upon my wet soapy body, streams of water trickling over every part of me.
    I felt a familiar buzz run up and down my skin.
    “Like what you see?” I asked, a slight bitterness in my tone. I was so angry with him for leaving me, for everything, but I was also relieved to see him; better him than the thugs.
    He nodded. His buttery eyes glided up and down my body, studying every inch of me; his jaw muscles tensed.
    I let my hands glide over my slippery soft skin, touching my breasts and tweaking my nipples. I allowed my hands to fall, tracing my torso, and then dipping them into the shallow beneath my bellybutton

Similar Books

Death of a Duchess

Elizabeth Eyre

IntheMood

Lynne Connolly

The Mystery of the Purple Pool

Gertrude Chandler Warner