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He kicked his legs and feebly moved his arms in a parody of swim strokes, but it was like trying to push Jell-O through quicksand. But there was no need to try and swim after all. Look. Todd was bringing the boat to him.
Only thing, he was running it too hot and too fast for safety.
“Hey!”
It was a nightmare’s yell, when you open your mouth and try to scream but you can’t utter a sound and that intensifies the horror of the nightmare. He tried to wave his arms, but they weighed a thousand pounds apiece. He couldn’t even lift them out of the water.
“Todd,” he croaked. “Turn to port! I’m here! Can’t you see me?”
He could see him. He was looking straight at him through the plastic windshield that protected the cockpit. Control panel lights were making a Halloween mask of his bruised and swelling face. His eyes glowed red. Torches of hell.
Roark screamed one last time before fear sent him plunging beneath the surface. In seconds he was engulfed in churning, strangling waters. Then the terror gripped him. Undiluted terror. The kind that few men ever have the misfortune of experiencing. Terror so absolute that death seems a blessing.
Terror championed only by pain. Excruciating and immeasurable.
Pain that splinters the body but slays the soul.
Chapter 32
Nadia arrived at the martini bar wearing a snug black dress with a deceptively demure neckline and a cocktail hat, one of those saucy numbers with a veil that covered half her face. A black feathered handbag hung from her shoulder on a slender gold chain. Very fetching. Very femme fatale.
Heads turned as she made her way through the bar. It was packed with Manhattan’s in crowd and wannabes. People spoke to her as she passed by. She waved to a party of three seated at a corner table.
When she reached Noah’s table, he was inflated with pride that the most exquisite woman in the room was joining him. He embraced her warmly but circumspectly. Pecking a friendly kiss on her cheek, he whispered, “I could fuck you right here.”
“Ever the romantic.” She slid into the banquette beside him.
“Martini?”
“By all means.”
He placed their order with the waiter who had rushed to the table within seconds of Nadia’s arrival, then turned to her with a smile. “You’re known here.”
“I’m known everywhere.”
He laughed at her conceit. “I’ve missed your sharp comebacks. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.”
“That silly quarrel.”
“Ancient history now.” He inhaled deeply. “Ahh. Your provocative scent.”
“Chanel.”
He shook his head and grinned slyly. “Sex. Too bad you can’t bottle it. You’d make a fortune.” His adoring gaze moved over her face. “You look sensational. I like the veil.”
“Thank you.”
“It lends you a mysterious air that’s incredibly sexy.” Beneath the table, he pressed her thigh with his.
“You’re coming on awfully strong tonight. You haven’t been getting any, have you?”
“I’ve been otherwise occupied.”
“Yes, you have.” She seemed to become fascinated with the layered arrangement of the feathers on her handbag. She ran her finger over the smooth, iridescent plumes. “You’ve been busy laying your father-in-law to rest.”
“What a lot of folderol.”
“I thought the eulogies were rather moving.”
