Page 111 of Nowhere to Hide

It became holy in a way that made me lose time and sense.

I tried to pull him on top of me, but he shushed me as the flames between us smothered into a misty bliss. He tugged me against him. “Sleep.”

“No, you. I need to...”

He buried his face in my neck. “Sleep Cilla. You’re worth the wait.”

It was the last thing I heard as I surrendered to the overwhelming emotions of the day.

And this man.

When I woke, he was gone.

Daylight poured from the skylight and my skin felt tight and salty from the heat of the day creeping into the bedroom hull. I rolled over and found a book and a note.

Charting a course to Maine.

Find me upstairs.

L

It was then that I realized the boat was moving. I was so used to the easy rocking of when we were anchored it was almost a lullaby. There was a definite pull of the wind working overtime on our speed.

I gingerly rolled out of bed and checked the porthole. The white capped wake of the boat and the limitless blue of the ocean and sky at odds with the breakneck speed had me stumbling a little.

That and my well-used body.

We hadn’t even had sex yet.

I pushed my hair out of my face and stumbled against the bed as we hit a wave. My thigh throbbed from both last night and the healing that felt like it was taking forever.

I grabbed my towel from the back of my door and tucked it around me as I grabbed onto the doorknob to stay upright. Evidently Locke wanted to make tracks.

My shower was a lesson in balance and creativity. I didn’t bother with washing my hair. With all the sea spray he waskicking up it was easier to just stuff it under a ballcap and worry about it later.

Knowing he was distracted with his charts and plans I lounged in bed as I dried off and read a few chapters of one of the new books he’d picked up for me. Even the fast-paced mystery couldn’t hold my attention for long.

Not with my stomach rumbling.

I slid into a flowy skirt with ridiculous peacock feathers all over it and a red bikini top. Feeling a little bold, I left the bottoms of the bikini in the pile. I braced myself on the walls of the hallway and stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Locke?”

I yelled up into the main part of the boat, but he was probably up on the top deck.

I nibbled on my lower lip.

I had to try the stairs eventually. Of course while the boat was going Mach 3 probably wasn’t the best idea, but I really wanted one of those breakfast sandwiches he had stashed in the freezer.

“Now or never.” I bent at the waist and stretched out my back and leg muscles. The pull of the mending muscles of my thigh left me hissing out a slow breath.

“It’s just five stairs,” I whispered.

The railing was sturdy and I used it to pull myself up, letting my left leg go lax as I used my right side. I made it up two stairs and gave an annoyed growl at how much it hurt.

I was tired of being an invalid, dammit.

Not that I didn’t enjoy getting carted around by Locke, but I was used to being independent. Even when engaged to Marcus, we’d kept separate places. It probably should have been a red flag. Regardless, I was used to doing most things on my own.