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Chapter Seven
Honor
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IDON’T WANT TO TAKEa shower.
I thought I could do this, so full of inner bravado while outside, but now, in the house, just me and Don...it’s a lot more intimidating than I had imagined.
I run the water and stand in the middle of the bathroom, still fully clothed. I’m hugely conscious of Don on the other side of the door. He’s said he’ll give me some privacy, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that’s the truth. Not after I teased him, for sure. God, what was I thinking? My bravery seems to have vanished.
My heart flutters, and my pulse seems to be bouncing around inside my veins. I’m lightheaded from lack of sleep and the adrenaline flooding my system. It all makes it hard to think straight. To focus.
I need to stay alive long enough for them to find me, but perhaps my earlier idea about seducing Don was stupid, as well as naïve as to how easy I would find it. If I give him what he wants, he won’t have anything to keep me around for. Will he?
Despite the numerous locks on the front door—ones Don must have installed himself, as I can’t imagine any normal rental needing to provide that kind of security—there is a distinct lack of them on the bathroom door. A groove in the wood above the door handle indicates a spot where a simple sliding bolt must have been jimmied off. There isn’t even a chair in the room that I can use to wedge under the handle, but again, I expect that’s deliberate.
A frosted glass window is to my left, and I go to it, hoping to find a way out. If I have to jump from a second story window in order to escape, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll break my legs and be in an even worse position than I am now, but at least I’ll have tried to run. I could wrap a towel around me and try to break the glass, as I’ve seen that in TV shows, but the glass is double thickness and I doubt I could do it without breaking something. There’s also the question of the noise repeated attempts would make. Noise which would alert Don to what I am trying to do.
The window isn’t going to provide my escape, however. It only opens at the top and is too narrow for me to fit through. I could try to break the rest of the window, but there’s nothing in the room for me to use. Other than the toiletries bottles and the towels and bathmat, everything else is attached to the floor. I’m in no way strong enough to wrench up a toilet or sink and use it to smash the glass.
The room is filling with steam.
I’m still shaking, cold to the bone with both fear and the long trip exposed in the boat. The thought of a hot shower is inviting, and Don is going to be able to tell if I don’t take one. Then he’ll question why I’ve lied to him. He has every reason to be suspicious of me. Haven’t I spent the last few months doing everything I can to escape him?
No normal person would think for a single second that I’d be interested in him that way, but Don isn’t a normal person. He’s got an ego the size of the Arctic, and deep down, he believes everyone should love him, including me.
But he also knows thatIknow what he’s capable of.
Murder.
Feeling I have little choice, I quickly strip off my clothes and hang them on the ladder-style radiator to dry out. I yank my hair into a high knot—not wanting it to get wet again—and step under the hot spray.
The jets of hot water pummel my tense muscles, and I exhale the air from my lungs and relax, just a fraction, for the first time in hours. I close my eyes and picture myself back at the resort, in my own bathroom. The memory has my eyes pricking with tears.
I’m still haunted by the death of Edwardo and the knowledge that I’m with a man who thinks nothing of shooting someone. I’ve always known Don is dangerous—he killed my mother—but having it happen right in front of me like that has rocked me to my core. I can’t help blaming myself, too. If I hadn’t persuaded him to help me, Edwardo would still be alive. I want to convince myself that Edwardo must have been as bad as Don if he was working with him, but Don is a master manipulator, and he doesn’t only hold that influence over the women in his life.
Over the water hitting the stall, I hear the crack of the door opening, and the change in the air as steam is released. I don’t want to look, because it will only confirm what I already know—that Don has entered the bathroom.
I should have known he wouldn’t keep his promise.
I lean out of the shower to grab a towel from the heated rail to cover myself, but he’s too quick for me, and he whips it out of my reach.
“Now, now, Honor,” he says. “You know I like to watch. I think maybe you like it too, if your earlier words were anything to go by.”
I’m on a tightrope right now. Give this man enough to keep him invested, but not too much. I use my hands to cover my body as best I can—one hand and forearm across my breasts, flattening them, the other hiding my pussy. My back curves like a bow as I hunch to try to protect my naked form from his gaze. It’s a natural instinct, but also something I think he will like because he’s sick.
“Soap yourself down,” he instructs.
His lips part, and his tongue flicks out to swipe across his lower lip. His eyes darken with raw lust, and a whimper escapes my lips, and not one I have to force; it’s entirely natural. I’m such a fool. Did I really think myself capable of seducing this man?
