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I grabbed the bowl just in time and everything in my stomach came up noisily, filling my senses with an acrid taste. Flashes of heat and ice moved through my body and I gagged, trying to push bile up from my stomach. There was nothing left. It had been ages since I’d eaten anything.
My hand shook so much I could barely set the bowl aside and bring the glass of water to my lips. Ice cold relief spread over my tongue, soothing the pulsing heat in my temples.
Oh God, that was so much better.
I wiped my damp forehead and rinsed out my mouth, spitting into the bowl. Something trickled down my neck, a bit of sweat, and slid between my breasts. I looked down, realizing I was still in one of his shirts, this time a light blue one.
Anger bubbled. How dare he put his fucking shirt on me.
The doorknob turned and I scrambled back against the wall as it pushed open. For a second no one entered and then the sound of rapid French wafted through. Whoever it was, they were having a conversation just outside. Furtively, I glanced around the room, searching fruitlessly for an escape route.
There was none. The room was tiny.
My heart thudded. My ears rang.
The door pushed open and he stood there. Duran whoever-he-was, the man who had drugged and kidnapped me. My stomach warmed unexpectedly, confusion whirling through my foggy head. He wore a white shirt, halfway unbuttoned, and dress pants. On his feet were a pair of expensive shoes. He looked far too good to be so terrifying.
“Rise and shine, princess,” he said, dragging a chair after him into the room and shutting the door.
He locked it and the sound triggered a wave of panic in my chest.
“Where am I?” I whispered, voice cracking.
“On a boat,” he said.
He placed the chair in the middle of the room and sat in it, leaning back to spread his knees wide. A sudden memory of myself with the thick length of his cock in my mouth flashed through my mind.
Whore.
Wincing, I pulled his shirt tighter around my body, trying to disappear into the wall behind me. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing. He studied me and it felt like being raked over hot coals.
“So,” he said. “What should I do with you?”
I swallowed, the taste of vomit rising in my throat. “Are you going to kill me?”
He laughed quietly and shook his head. “No, I’m not. Unless you give me a good reason to.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said firmly, gathering my courage. “I wasn’t lying to you.”
He shifted, cracking his neck. “See…here’s why I don’t believe you, princess. You are a single female at a very expensive resort and yet, you said you were there for work. What kind of work do you do that could pay for a stay like that?”
I bristled, despite being at a complete disadvantage.
“I’m an influencer,” I said, drawing myself up.
His jaw, covered in a trimmed beard, flexed. “So you’re an Instagram model?”
I nodded. “Kind of. I just take pictures of myself and sometimes brands pay me to try out products or go to places and advertise them. The resort paid me to stay for a week and then I had a brand deal with a lingerie company. It’s not a big deal, but it is my income.”
He reached into his pocket and took out my phone. The sight of it in his hand made my blood boil and I lurched forward, making a grab for it. Quick as a flash, he jerked it away and snatched my wrist.
“Sit back,” he ordered.
Cowed, I obeyed, but I pushed my lower lip out to let him know I was pissed. He gazed down at me for a moment and slid back, lifting the phone and swiping the screen.
“How did you get into my phone?” I snapped.
“I used your thumb and then I changed the passcode,” he said. “It’s not rocket science.”
