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Her stomach roiled. She hadn’t eaten much at dinner and nausea rose in her throat. She’d never had much seasickness as a child, but clearly the years had stolen away her seaworthiness. She decided she couldn’t stay in bed any longer. Maybe it would be easier to get some medication – a patch or some tablets from the medical centre – than to suffer in bed. It might also be enough to send her to sleep.
She waited for a pause in the rise and fall, then swung her legs over and crawled down the ladder.
She paused at the bottom, trying not to disturb the others. But somehow they were still managing to sleep.
Again, timing it with the swells, she crossed the cabin floor. She opened the door carefully, making sure it didn’t make a sound as it shut. The hall was deserted.
She kept one hand on the brass railing that ran along the edge of the hallway, gripping tightly in case the ship made an unexpected move. Somewhere down the hallwas the cabin she would have shared with Aaron. They would have laughed and clung to each other as the waves did their worst, and when she was scared, he would have comforted her. She hoped the honeymooners were appreciating their time together.
As she thought of them, someone in a navy Pioneer-branded polo stepped out of cabin sixteen, wearing a pair of white gloves. A cabin steward. He had a mostly shaved head apart from two straight lines of hair above his ear.
There was no denying it this time. He looked exactly like the man who had been watching them outside the restaurant in Ushuaia.
She let out an involuntary gasp. He looked up sharply. She caught sight of his eyes – a pale, watery blue. They narrowed, and he strode towards her.
Her bravery deserted her and she fled back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. But as she released her hand from the banister to cut the corner of the landing, the floor disappeared beneath her feet. The ship lurched and bucked, and she was thrown. Her foot missed the next step, skidding instead against the edge and sending her flying backwards, arms wheeling.
Her head cracked against the rail.
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‘Don’t move, Olivia,’ the man growled.
She winced, clawing at the back of her head. She opened one eye, then cried out with fear.
He was staring down at her, his hand raised. This was it. He’d been searching for her in the wrong cabin and she’d stumbled right into his path. Now she was at his mercy. She kicked out, scrambling backwards, but the stairs blocked her. There was nowhere to go.
‘Hey! Are you OK?’
She tilted her head back and saw Liam leaning over the railings in the stairwell. At the sound of his voice, the other man growled, before fleeing through a ‘CREW ONLY’ door.
Liam’s warm brown eyes filled with concern as he raced down the stairs to help her. ‘Did you fall?’
‘Th-that crewman,’ she stammered out. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Hmm, sorry. I couldn’t tell from the top of his head.’
‘He chased me. He caused me to fall. He was going to attack me.’
Liam frowned. ‘A member of the crew? I don’t think so.’
‘He’s about six foot tall, bald – with these two strips of hair above his ear. I saw him in Ushuaia as well.’
Liam chuckled. ‘Sounds like my roommate. A “hair tattoo” he calls it. He’s quite meticulous about it. What amuppet. But you wouldn’t have seen him in Ushuaia; he’s just come off another sailing and we didn’t have much time on shore.’
‘Then why did he run?’
‘He’s not supposed to be on the guest floors during his duty. He probably saw I was coming and let me take over rather than risk a bollocking from Captain Enzo.’
Olivia chewed on her lower lip, but she couldn’t drop it. ‘All right, then tell me how come he knew my name?’
‘We’re all given binders with passenger information. He probably recognized you from that.’
She blinked, the information taking a while to sink in. Maybe that was the man from Ushuaia, but more likely not. In the end, all he had really done was tell her not to move – probably good advice given her potential head injury. As the adrenaline faded, the pain came back in full force. She groaned.
‘That was quite the fall you took. Shit, and you’re bleeding. Can you stand? Come with me.’
‘I’ll be OK—’